When I Get Enlightened
Enlightened people always say something like “You’re already enlightened.” Since they’re enlightened they must be right about this, but it’s not very helpful. I promise not to say this to you when I get enlightened.
Protecting the Good Crystal
One cold icy night in New Jersey I escorted our dinner guests out to their car, which was parked in our driveway. I brought my glass of wine with me. While standing on the slippery surface saying goodbye to them I realized this: If I were to slip and fall on my butt I would hit the ground with the wine glass still held in my upraised hand – I wouldn’t just throw it and use my hand to protect myself.
And I think this kind of behavior might even extend to more dangerous situations (e.g. I’m driving a car while holding a cup of soda, an emergency crops up, I continue to steer with one hand so as not to spill the drink). There’s some strange wiring here, and I think that other people may be wired like me. What kind of beings are we if we’ll die to avoid spilling the Coca-Cola?
Baseball Caps Worn Backward
I suppose one advantage of wearing a baseball cap backward is that it protects the back of your neck from the sun. But why else would you do it? It’s harder to put on that way, and is even uncomfortable. I suppose there’s some kind of “I-don’t-give-a-shit” communication in it, or “look-at-me-I’m-a-cool-wiseguy.” I’m not sure what’s going on. What statement are all these people making?
The World is a Mutt
Ultimate reality is symmetrical and perfect. I take this as a given. (Know it or not, so do you.) Why then does our world appear so disjointed? For example, take a look at the produce section of your local supermarket. The vegetables are a motley assortment of objects, with colors and shapes that seem totally arbitrary.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
Five Short Pieces
Bass Solos
In a jazz piano trio the piano is far and away the lead instrument. However in most songs each player, including the bass, will get some sort of solo. But a bass is a lousy solo instrument!!! Listening in the car, a bass solo is often no more than a dull thumping sound, and even in the best acoustical situations the bass is way boring compared to the piano. It’s a case of “Look at how well that man can play that boring instrument!” A curiosity, something to be “appreciated” rather than enjoyed. So should there be no bass solos? Well that doesn’t really work either; it seems that everyone should at least get their turn. We want the bass player to have his solo even though, truth be told, it’s boring. This is a paradox.
Throw the Spaghetti in the Waiter’s Face
A teacher of mine used to say, “If you get bad service in a restaurant don’t just slink out leaving a small (or no) tip. Throw the spaghetti in the waiter’s face!”
No Two Snowflakes are Alike
How can anyone possibly know that? Why do we buy ideas like this and become so fond of them?
It Takes All Kinds
There are so many different types of people in the world, and I sometimes get sad when I realize that lots and lots of them are those with whom I’ll never have much rapport. They’re just not my type, and I’m not theirs. For example, I find it hard to imagine being great friends with someone who thinks professional wrestling is real.
Candid Camera
Times change, and change radically, but Candid Camera is still on the air. And everyone’s got their favorite bits. I remember an old one where a VW Beetle was rigged so its normally 10-gallon gas tank could hold about 50 gallons. Imagine the gas station attendant’s quandary when he proceeded to “fill it up, please.”
Where was the gas going? It must be leaking onto the ground, but it wasn’t! Something that couldn’t be happening was happening.
We appreciate Candid Camera because we love our reality being shattered. Though we’re almost inextricably committed to this reality, we know at a deep, deep level that it’s a sham.
In a jazz piano trio the piano is far and away the lead instrument. However in most songs each player, including the bass, will get some sort of solo. But a bass is a lousy solo instrument!!! Listening in the car, a bass solo is often no more than a dull thumping sound, and even in the best acoustical situations the bass is way boring compared to the piano. It’s a case of “Look at how well that man can play that boring instrument!” A curiosity, something to be “appreciated” rather than enjoyed. So should there be no bass solos? Well that doesn’t really work either; it seems that everyone should at least get their turn. We want the bass player to have his solo even though, truth be told, it’s boring. This is a paradox.
Throw the Spaghetti in the Waiter’s Face
A teacher of mine used to say, “If you get bad service in a restaurant don’t just slink out leaving a small (or no) tip. Throw the spaghetti in the waiter’s face!”
No Two Snowflakes are Alike
How can anyone possibly know that? Why do we buy ideas like this and become so fond of them?
It Takes All Kinds
There are so many different types of people in the world, and I sometimes get sad when I realize that lots and lots of them are those with whom I’ll never have much rapport. They’re just not my type, and I’m not theirs. For example, I find it hard to imagine being great friends with someone who thinks professional wrestling is real.
Candid Camera
Times change, and change radically, but Candid Camera is still on the air. And everyone’s got their favorite bits. I remember an old one where a VW Beetle was rigged so its normally 10-gallon gas tank could hold about 50 gallons. Imagine the gas station attendant’s quandary when he proceeded to “fill it up, please.”
Where was the gas going? It must be leaking onto the ground, but it wasn’t! Something that couldn’t be happening was happening.
We appreciate Candid Camera because we love our reality being shattered. Though we’re almost inextricably committed to this reality, we know at a deep, deep level that it’s a sham.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Why "Short Pieces?"
By nature I’m relentlessly philosophical, and am always observing and analyzing. I especially like questions that seem to lead to paradoxes. I remember as a little boy being totally intrigued by the Paradoxes of Zeno. Over the years I’ve become quite interested in certain seemingly paradoxical questions, and for a long time planned to write a book, a “collection of essays about life,” in which I would thoroughly explore and resolve these intriguing puzzles, one by one. I collected many titles about which I wanted to write, along with very brief notes to remind myself what the content of each would be.
However, each time I sat down to write one of the essays I could never finish it. I couldn’t answer the questions I was asking. I would get off to a good start, but could never reach a satisfactory conclusion. For a long time I thought it was writer’s block or just some kind of resistance, but an insight finally came: the human mind, in its current state of evolution, cannot solve these problems. When I saw that, it felt like a revelation. As human beings we stumble around trying to solve problems and questions we’re just not equipped to solve. Put another way, we are 3-dimensional perceptual beings immersed in a multi-dimensional reality which our minds cannot grasp. (See my article, 11-Dimensional Mind.)
When I saw that, things became much easier for me. Since I didn’t need to answer any of these questions, I found that it was valuable and interesting just to ask them. And the questions themselves were already laid out, in the form of the titles and notes I had prepared for myself. Hence, the “short piece”: a title plus some brief commentary. I edited them so as to make each one complete in itself, and very much liked the result. They were quirky, and packed a lot of punch.
This brief, no-frills way of communicating suited me and my temperament. And I saw that the short piece form didn’t need to be limited to deep, paradoxical questions. I could write brash, opinionated pieces about anything, to my heart’s content! Being a judgmental man of few words, I had created for myself a very satisfying form of self-expression.
And though these fiery pieces may confound you and/or piss you off, I offer them to you, with love.
However, each time I sat down to write one of the essays I could never finish it. I couldn’t answer the questions I was asking. I would get off to a good start, but could never reach a satisfactory conclusion. For a long time I thought it was writer’s block or just some kind of resistance, but an insight finally came: the human mind, in its current state of evolution, cannot solve these problems. When I saw that, it felt like a revelation. As human beings we stumble around trying to solve problems and questions we’re just not equipped to solve. Put another way, we are 3-dimensional perceptual beings immersed in a multi-dimensional reality which our minds cannot grasp. (See my article, 11-Dimensional Mind.)
When I saw that, things became much easier for me. Since I didn’t need to answer any of these questions, I found that it was valuable and interesting just to ask them. And the questions themselves were already laid out, in the form of the titles and notes I had prepared for myself. Hence, the “short piece”: a title plus some brief commentary. I edited them so as to make each one complete in itself, and very much liked the result. They were quirky, and packed a lot of punch.
This brief, no-frills way of communicating suited me and my temperament. And I saw that the short piece form didn’t need to be limited to deep, paradoxical questions. I could write brash, opinionated pieces about anything, to my heart’s content! Being a judgmental man of few words, I had created for myself a very satisfying form of self-expression.
And though these fiery pieces may confound you and/or piss you off, I offer them to you, with love.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
We'll just get right to it. Here are:
Bumper Sticker Self-Expression
For many people today, communicating “who they are” consists in purchasing the right bumper sticker, and affixing it to their vehicle. Same with greeting cards – just pick one you like, and give it to that special person. As if self-expression were some sort of multiple choice exercise.
Sell Your Soul at the Old Ball Game
The Knicks were in town to play the Nuggets and my son Lionel took me to the game for my birthday. The spectacle at the “Pepsi Center” was nothing but shameless, automated, heartless marketing. Robotic cheers led by electronic scoreboards, giveaway promotions on the loudspeaker, and live “cheerleaders” doing their schticky little dance numbers which were obviously timed to precisely fit the TV commercial breaks. (And they did the exact same routine at least a dozen times during the game.) Trinkets thrown into the audience. Everything completely slick. And the fans didn’t seem to know that they were being fundamentally, royally disrespected.
No Package Goods
When I was a kid growing up in New Jersey, bars could be open on Sundays but they couldn’t sell “package goods,” i.e. alcoholic drinks in bottles or cans to take out. However they were allowed to sell draft beer “to go” in these rather large white cardboard cups with white cardboard slide-on lids.
Draft beer doesn’t take well to the confines of a cardboard cup. On multiple occasions I remember riding home in the back seat of our car with a paper bag of 2-3 cardboard cups foaming beer onto the floor. It happened every time.
How could we have created and tolerated a system of laws that had us spilling beer into our cars?
Three Short Pieces
Bumper Sticker Self-Expression
For many people today, communicating “who they are” consists in purchasing the right bumper sticker, and affixing it to their vehicle. Same with greeting cards – just pick one you like, and give it to that special person. As if self-expression were some sort of multiple choice exercise.
Sell Your Soul at the Old Ball Game
The Knicks were in town to play the Nuggets and my son Lionel took me to the game for my birthday. The spectacle at the “Pepsi Center” was nothing but shameless, automated, heartless marketing. Robotic cheers led by electronic scoreboards, giveaway promotions on the loudspeaker, and live “cheerleaders” doing their schticky little dance numbers which were obviously timed to precisely fit the TV commercial breaks. (And they did the exact same routine at least a dozen times during the game.) Trinkets thrown into the audience. Everything completely slick. And the fans didn’t seem to know that they were being fundamentally, royally disrespected.
No Package Goods
When I was a kid growing up in New Jersey, bars could be open on Sundays but they couldn’t sell “package goods,” i.e. alcoholic drinks in bottles or cans to take out. However they were allowed to sell draft beer “to go” in these rather large white cardboard cups with white cardboard slide-on lids.
Draft beer doesn’t take well to the confines of a cardboard cup. On multiple occasions I remember riding home in the back seat of our car with a paper bag of 2-3 cardboard cups foaming beer onto the floor. It happened every time.
How could we have created and tolerated a system of laws that had us spilling beer into our cars?
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