Friday, December 2, 2016

Secret Lives – We All Have Secret Lives

Secret Lives – We All Have Secret Lives

I didn’t see one of my very best friends for a couple of weeks.  Then she showed up at my local coffee shop and signaled that she’d been through another low bout and tried ending-it-all again.  We know what I mean.  Yess … the unmentionable “suicide”.  Ooh ooh – did he really just say (write) that?  Oh no!  Oh no!  Oh no!  Oh no! 

Well, he did.  Sure, it’s a horrible (taboo) topic.  But suicide is a part, a fact, of life.  I say that again – “suicide is a part of life.”  So is “addiction”.  Addiction is a part of everybody’s life.  Just open up, admit it.  Everybody is addicted to something, most people to several things.  Religion, religion is an addiction.  I know people who would crawl to church after a compound fracture on Sundays.   They would take Communion if it was served on a sh*t platter.  They would put their Prayer Rug, facing east, on a lava field, if that was where they were when the Mullah calls.  They would never pass through any door without tapping the Mezuzah. THAT is an addiction, no matter how you look at it.  But it is how they get through their day(s).

Of course, the biggies, after religion, are alcohol, tobacco, drugs and, I would add, firearms.  And ALL of them kill, eventually, in one way or another.  Now suicide kills and that’s that.  But many more people attempt suicide than we have any way of knowing.  Sure, there are a lot of statistics on this, but how many people are telling the truth?  Some comedian, or other person who people quote, once said, “90% of all people masturbate and the other 10% are liars.”  So, while that is kind of funny, how do we know if it is actually true? 

Part of life is knowing that life is not a ray, as defined by mathematics and physics.  It is not a straight line, starting at one point and continuing for infinity.  There is simply no way we can know that.  We do know that at some point we all did become aware and we know for sure, that at some point we, each one of us, will die.  Or, cease to be aware.  That’s really about ALL we can truly say we DO know.  As far as I am concerned, those are the only two facts that exist.  Everything else is malleable, even our understanding of gravity.  EVERYTHING. 

It is totally historically evident that as human knowledge grows, what we like to call facts freakin’ change.  Facts are rewritten ALL the time.  SO, while a successful suicide is tragic, humans do do it.  And, while for them it is the end of their lives, as soon as it occurs, it becomes part of the life of everyone who is related to, or ever even knew, them.  And, (again, the and) it becomes part of many Secret Lives.  For many of the survivors of suicide, both the attempter and many of those sharing that person’s life, the tragic and taboo nature of the act devolves into a secret.

If anyone ever openly admitted to attempting suicide, they would never be able to get a job – anywhere.  And, they would immediately be dropped from just about every social group they had been a part of.  And yet, being discriminated against for having a disability is against American Law.  And, a mental disability is included in this law.  In fact, it is not a requirement that any person has to disclose this information to anyone they do not want to disclose it to.  And, what does this mean?

I have a ton of experience in mental disabilities, no certified expertise, but a shipload of experience both with my own and the Mentally Disabled Community.  Within the secret lives of many, many of the mentally disabled, attempts at suicide are as common as orange juice at breakfast.  For most it really fits more into the genre of self-mutilation of some sort – like what is called cutting.  It’s just an attempt to stop the crazy in their brains for just a few minutes.  A little physical pain diverts that brain from the intense crazy for just as long as the physical pain lasts. It’s a stop for breath on a long uphill run.  That’s really about all it is.

So, again, what does it mean?  It means it goes into the secret vault.  “Don’t ask, don’t tell.”  Which is a concept that has also been debunked and ruled not only politically incorrect, but also illegal.  In other words, if anyone tells you they happen to be Gay, or whatever gender or sexual identity or practice they happen to identify with, you aren’t allowed to do anything about it.  That’s come out of the Supreme Court. 

Secret Lives, secret lives.  We ALL have them.  Or, at least 90% of us have them and the other 10% are liars.

 "Face the sun and you will not fear the shadows." - Ancient Aboriginal saying ...

Thank you Dear Reader and Joy be unto you.
Books on Kindle by Dale Clarence Peterson
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Note: for the brave among my dear readers, I offer a new, separate but different blog:
study in a matter of theory and conjecture about human brain-mind development towards retaining ever increasing meta-cognitive development.  Based on Mathematics, and I refer to Base 3 Calculus. I wouldn’t expect a whole lot of people to give it a try.  But if you are in any manner open-minded and intellectually curious, the Math used is truly only a tool to condense the theory proposed. 

Just published  “Twelve Roses for Kathy – A journey on a motorcycle out of the darkness of bipolar disorder”

Monday, November 28, 2016

Exiting the Back Side of the Moon - Depression

Exiting the Back Side of the Moon - Depression

Depression as diagnosed in terms of being a real medical condition by ALL of the groups, organizations (and such) – just about worldwide – that deal with psychiatric or neurological conditions, state that this is a true existent condition.  This is NOT just sadness, not just moodiness.  NOT “just feeling down or blue”. 

Of course, everybody knows this by now and, by and large, accepts it.

A big question is what to do about it?  A ton of material on that is out there on that.  The heroic struggles we, as the ordinary public, are deluged with.  Heroic struggles with depression by famous people, or worse yet by people who become famous by making the public-at-large aware of their story (read: Heroic Struggle).  Note: Dear Reader, I am not famous, nor trying to be.  Actually, writing this blog is just part of my therapy and my own very humble manner of trying to help. 

All of that aside; getting off of “the dark side of the moon” seems truly impossible when you find yourself waking up there.  The medications?  Not my field. 

Writing?  Just spending an afternoon writing gets a small light shining.  A small ember in some dry weeds, waiting for a breath of wind, or just a breath of breath.  Getting it to turn into a small blaze.  Enough light and warmth to see at least to the end of my arm.  Writing is a creative outlet to help calm the bully-beast that seems to be my artist’s lifeblood.  It’s like having a passive-aggressive co-joined twin.  A pushy bully that is permanently attached to my spine.  Separation would be death, but daily life with this attachment is hell.

So babbling along on the written page is one method.

For me, is also what I call journaling.  Sort of a sketchbook with some poetry and random diddly thoughts as they cross my mind.  Although I do date every entry, or at least each day, I don’t think of this as a diary or as a sketchbook.  I have found that thoughts, thinking, can drive me just mental (wait!  I AM mental. “ha-ha”).  Just the intense ramblings of my brain, that never seem to stop – EVER!  Getting as much of that stuff  out of my head and on paper helps.  Partly because some deep part of me is horribly narcissistic and thinks thinking and wowy! My brilliant thoughts are world changing and super-didooper-important. 

That narcissist, and he’s a big one, inside me truly believes I’m a genius.  I can't help it if nobody else has realized it (smiley-face).  Note: Part of beating a bully is to face him.  Admit he’s there and you HAVE to deal with him.  So I basically use my journaling as a means of just dumping all that genius into something.  Amazingly, once it’s there in those journals, my brainiac narcissist lets go of it. It will allow me to let go of it and move on.

However, some years ago I did make the dedicated decision to avoid, as much as possible, negative ramblings.    

The problem with the mind, with human memory, is that it never really goes away.  The human brain is more like the Internet Cloud, once uploaded, it can never be truly erased from existence.  Once writ, it is carved in the stone of the ether.  So, keep the smelly crap out of your journal.  There is no need whatever to enscribe  (sp) the negative.  It just stinks up the good stuff.

The negative thoughts, the negative alien beast that attaches itself to your soul, a parasite can only be scraped away, occasionally sanded back, like a cetaceous mole.  It’s roots go deep, too deep, attached to the bone marrow deep.  Those thoughts will never go away.  BUT, all that can be compartmentalized.  Writing those thoughts, those experiences down, just gives them credence – it somehow gives them value.  I put them in a kind of like a mental old moldy gym bag and toss it into the back of the brain-closet.  There is actually kind of a pile of those old brain gym bags by now.  I don't know, I avoid looking in there, these days.

That being said,

 "Face the sun and you will not fear the shadows." - Ancient Aboriginal saying ...

Note: for the brave among my dear readers, I offer a new, separate but different blog:
study in a matter of theory and conjecture about human brain-mind development towards retaining ever increasing meta-cognitive development.  Based on Mathematics, and I refer to Base 3 Calculus. I wouldn’t expect a whole lot of people to give it a try.  But if you are in any manner open-minded and intellectually curious, the Math used is truly only a tool to condense the theory proposed. 

Thank you Dear Reader and Joy be unto you.

Just published  “Twelve Roses for Kathy – A journey on a motorcycle out of the darkness of bipolar disorder”

Thursday, November 17, 2016

New Shoes

New Shoes

One of the reasons, it is my theory, that Ancient Rome was so successful in conquering the Western World of its time, is their footwear.  Yeah, they built really the best roads of their time.  I say, of their time, which means they laid down stones, since paving technology was centuries away in the future.  I have been to Rome and I have walked and even driven on parts of the Appian Way, one of their major roads in, around and out of Ancient Rome.  It is still there!  Parts of it anyway.  Lots of it are cordoned off as Historical Archival Cite, but parts of it have, out of necessity, still have to be used.  Like around the Coliseum, like what else are ya gonna do?  Can’t like move the Coliseum – it’s still a bit big for that and most of the buildings around it date from the same period.  Can’t move those either. 

That old Roman road is bone-jarring bumpy!  It is car suspension destroying and nearly lethally slippery when it rains.  But parts of it are over 2500 years old!  That is good engineering and construction.  And, if you want to move large weaponry, tens of thousands of military troops and other needs for conquest and control, he who has the best roads and/or transportation is most likely gonna come out on top.

However, a big however, is those troops on the march, have to march on their feet.  Now, human feet are .. like .. human and subject to .. like .. pain!  Bare feet (no shoes) can march, even run, on grass, dirt, forest paths, even mud.  Bare, non-shoed, feet do not do well on f’ing stone!  You can roll your heavy weaponry and stuff on wheels on stone roads.  It’ll clatter, it’ll jar around and the wheels may break down from time to time – but the wheels are not flesh and bone.  Wheels do not feel pain! You can put iron, or steel if your tech is that far along, around the wheels and get more milage per break-down on stone.  Iron and steel don’t do well on human feet.

So, what is the answer?  If your goal is to reek warfare and/or move profitable commerce efficiently, what do you do about the human feet that have to deal with those great stone paved roads?  The answer is, of course, good shoes.  Invent new shoe technology that can deal with the new road technology.  Very quickly that is precisely what the Ancient Romans did. 
Caligae, heavy-soled military shoes or sandals which were worn by Roman legionary soldiers and auxiliaries throughout the history of the Roman Republic and Empire. Wikipedia

Bare in mind that these Roman Soldier Shoes were not .. like .. Super-Nike competition marathon running comfortable.  The best ones were hobnailed, in that they did have iron studs riveted on the bottom-most sole.  Over that was another thick piece of leather.  These boot-sandal like shoes were pretty thick leather and it has been determined that they were probably kind of heavy.  In cold weather they are noted to have possibly added some kind of fabric sock, or other type of insulating materials (thinner leather sock). 

All-in-all this Roman Soldier footwear, like their roads, were better than anything their opposition had.  It was the custom of the times, that professional military had to supply their own uniforms.  Or, if you got paid to commit warfare, you were expected to provide your own stuff, or at least pay for it.  As a consequence, a lot of the Roman Soldier Dudes bought all the useable stuff the dudes getting out of the military had.  This meant, by and large, that shoes that were still serviceable were cheaper and pretty well broken in. 

Heavy, hobnailed, urine cured leather (no pleather or artificial leather was available) shoes were not made right and left either.  Or, new, these shoes would have just plain killed any person’s feet until they were broken in.  What does all this mean?  It means, new shoes are within a very unique category of technology and clothing; or clothing technology.  Not a matter of History often thought about or even broadly considered.  Not much scholarly effort has been put into this little bit of consideration.

Some great General once said, “An Army travels on its stomach.”  Which is kind of bullshit.  An Army mostly travels on its f’ing feet.  Oh yeah, ya gotta have food or the foots don’t work good, but the first thing to hit the ground is the f’ing foot.  I have also heard that in trench warfare the most valuable item is not food, but dry socks!. 

I have done a lot of on-line research on this topic and it surprises me how little study has been done on this topic; at least in English.  I have searched Google.  I have searched hi & lo, large text and regular in non-fiction History in my local library, which has network to four other libraries.  Almost nothing – well .. nothing .. actually.  There is one book I have found which is title 10,000 Years of Shoes – and it’s out-of-print and available only from Specialty Bookstores!!  And, it ain’t cheap and I ain’t got the money to buy it.

Which, makes all of my writing in this little blog pretty much conjecture.  I’m openly admitting that.  I’m more of a conjecturizing philosopher than any kind of historical researcher and I openly admit that.  Still it makes sense … right?  I mean .. like .. the new shoes bit?

More, later, in New Shoes II.

Note: for the brave among my dear readers, I offer a new, separate but different blog:
study in a matter of theory and conjecture about human brain-mind development towards retaining ever increasing meta-cognitive development.  Based on Mathematics, and I refer to Base 3 Calculus. I wouldn’t expect a whole lot of people to give it a try.  But if you are in any manner open-minded and intellectually curious, the Math used is truly only a tool to condense the theory proposed. 

Thank you Dear Reader and Joy be unto you.

Just published  “Twelve Roses for Kathy – A journey on a motorcycle out of the darkness of bipolar disorder”

Saturday, October 15, 2016

How Do You Keep Going?

How Do You Keep Going?

I have a million other things to do, but I must take a minute and ask, “How does a person keep going, when everything that comprises their overall situation seems to be going to hell in a handbasket?”

We are in a situation as a species, where we simply cannot continue to function as these distinct groups; i.e. Nations, Races, Religions, Genders, Political Factions, etc..  Our own ingenuity, inventiveness, basically evolution has brought us to a place where anyone can be just about anywhere on this weird rock in rotation around a burning ball of gas, can be in constant contact, including visually, with anyone else on the same rock.  I have a brother who lives in Australia.  I have gone there for a visit and it took nearly 36 hours of extremely exhausting travel to get there.  And, that is because we can now travel across an ocean that would have taken years just about one hundred years ago (okay, maybe 150 years ago), in less than a day.

That was 20 years ago.  Now I can hit one button, with one finger, on a device I can hold in one hand and be basically on his back porch with him and we can drink a glass of wine and watch the Australian fruit-bats fly overhead together.  He can be right there with me when I am riding my motorcycle in Virginia and see just what I am seeing – as I am riding.  I have attended business meetings with people in Minneapolis, San Francisco and Beijing; not from Minneapolis, San Francisco and Beijing, but each of us en locus (in those places!).  We see each other, converse in real time and exchanged important documents, altered, edited and voted on final drafts in real time.

I have seen a new device advertised that is capable of translating any language, on the fly, into any other language and is the size of a standard hearing aide.  While this may not be quite ready for International Marketing, you just know it will be, and soon. 

I have six grandchildren.  I am Caucasian (full blooded as far as I know).  NONE of my grandchildren are.  In one generation we have become a Rainbow Family.  As a High School teacher for 30 years, I have seen my general student class make-up change from mostly white to just about an even split and the last few years to kids who were multi-racial.  Many of them a mix within two generations of multi-colors and ethnicities.  I had one student whose mother was a French Black woman married to an Arabic man who had parents who were Asian, Black and White jumbled all together.  His mother was Catholic, his father was Muslim and one of his grandparents was Jewish.  This ten-year old spoke five languages, two dialects of Egyptian, played the piano and the violin and was a member of the “Pi 100 Club”.  He was great kid.  He was one of several with nearly this kind of family.

I just don’t see how it is possible to stand in one place anymore and not realize that you can instantly be anywhere else on the whole planet, at least in perception, and believe that there can exist an US and THEM. 
I had to retire from teaching because my own responsibilities went from writing one basic report on each of three three-month grading periods and attaching a letter grade for each student to – an on-line report on each student after every class.  And to do so within the ten minute change period between classes or receive a reprimand.  To do this and clean up and prepare for each successive class and then do all the prep for the next day after work (?), well, the stress became just too much. 

And, I know I am not alone with this kind of daily work stress.  The general global daily stress load for every single human has quadrupled, by my own observation, within my lifetime.  In Developed Nations every single action by every single human can be, and often is, observed by every other human in those places.  It is digitally recorded and stored in-the-cloud for fucking forever!  Currently, in today’s world, if you are born in just a reasonably Developed Nation, you had better never fuck up (sorry for the language) EVER!  From birth! 

Hospitals, by law in this country, used to take a footprint of the right foot of every infant born and stick it on your Birth Certificate.  That was it.  A single copy of a hand type-written document, signed by Doctor and parents, with a little black ink footprint.  The only proof you existed.  When you turned 16 you could get a Social Security card with a number on it and a Driver’s License.  The Driver’s License didn’t even have your picture, or anything on it, when I was sixteen.  When you needed to prove you were who you said you were, you just showed your Driver’s License and said you were who this limp cardboard card said you were.  And the response was always, “Okay”.  I am 5’ 7”, my brother is 6’ 2”.  We have the same last name.  I could have flipped out his card and unless they bothered to read the tiny, tiny print, nobody would know!!!

When I was in College I got in and out of Canada AND Mexico, by walking across the border … !  If I was stopped I could have shown any kind of card that said I was George Washington (!) born in 1725 and nobody would have really questioned it.  Of course, now they take a DNA sample, record it in about a thousand databases and you can be identified with 99% accuracy with a dab from the inside of your mouth.  Or a hair follicle.  Soon by a single skin cell left on any surface, anywhere, at any time.  GEEZE! 

All in all, even if the population doubles (which would not be a good thing actually) every human could be instantly located, almost instantly, almost anywhere, at any time.  And, their identity be 100% established, instantly.   WE have become a single beehive, with a single identity and truly a single purpose – to survive.  The sooner as a Global Population, we recognize this as nearly fact … or soon to be a fact, the better our chances of not going down the dinosaur route. 

So as a species, humans become one mind in billions of separate bodies.  However, Free Will will always exist, as long as we are not actually physically co-joined (which is not only impossible, but would be a logistical nightmare).  How would we get on and off the subway?  Or decide on what to restaurant to go to – since part of us would already be there?  It would be a problem.   And since, Free Will would still exist, things like religion and indigenous cultural differences would still exist.  With language ceasing to be a barrier, and language has been the actual greatest barrier for the length of our existence as a species, we are just going to have to learn to be tolerant and get along. 

There really IS no other way to avoid an apocalypse.  We have the capacity to also instantly kill each other by the millions in thousands of absolutely horrible ways.  You never feel the urge to take out your family and true friends, so that is what WE have to become; accept each other as Family.

That’s it, really.  That’s the ONLY way forward and out of the conundrum we find ourselves in.