Did I do the reverse Schrodinger’s Cat?
Can you do a reverse deja vu, or is that just, you know, everyday living?
You don’t remember any of it. Is reverse deja vu all the shit that you forget that you did, because it was so unremarkable?
Target: 1300 words
Written: 1784 words, novel: Bad Neighbours
Read: Magician: Apprentice, Raymond Feist
Comics: Napalm Lullaby 8, The Seasons 1, The Sacrificers 14, The Holy Roller 9
Music: We Built This City - The Very Best Of Starship, StarshipI had this in my notes about the nature of “alternative facts” and how conspiracy theories, no matter how insane, can go viral and I thought: that’s exactly the mentality the right takes towards reality.
Schrodinger’s cat is basically a thought experiment where if one puts a cat in a box, so one can’t see or hear it, one doesn’t actually know if the cat still exists.
The idea is that the fact of the cat’s life or death is entirely unknown, until the box is opened and facts are gathered. Until that point, the cat is neither dead or alive, but could simultaneously be either.
In right wing land, the opposite is true. As facts are revealed, the right wing becomes increasingly convinced that the entire proposition, whatever it is (the economy tanking, concentration camps, the illegality and immorality of masked men abducting people off the streets in the name of “law”), is entirely false.
However, the fewer facts there are, in this land, the more likely a right winger is to believe a thing is true (Haitians eating dogs in Springfield, the Bowling Green Massacre, 2020 election bullshit).
Basically, in a right winger’s mind, the fact that you can’t see the cat is proof of its existence – the cat must be alive. Ironically, opening the cat and showing it as it is, either way, dead or alive, is proof that the cat does not, in fact, exist.
I mean, it’s not a perfect theory, but you get the gist.
The stupider and less proven a conspiracy is, the more likely it is to be true, according to the right wing. See: Pizzagate.
The more logical and factually proven a conspiracy is, the more likely, in their minds, to be utterly untrue, a total cover-up, entirely fictional: see, Trump and Epstein, or any of the various grifts that piece of garbage has run on the American people.
One can only hope at some point that reality asserts itself, but the reality of their unreality is currently shaping the direction of the rest of our reality, creating an insane cognitive dissonance between where to draw the lines of real and unreal, which is what they want.
You can’t fight insanity with logic, and you can’t fight bullshit if you don’t know where to draw the line of truth.
I mean, we all know where the line is, and what’s bullshit, but we’re not the ones that need to be convinced.
Reality will come for us all, but whether it’s the reality of reality crashing down on their heads, or their unreality going scorched earth on our disbelief, either way, it won’t end well for somebody.
Or anybody, really.
Fuck.
Target: 1300 words
Written: 1349 words, novel: Bad Neighbours
Read: Magician: Apprentice, Raymond Feist
Comics: The Sacrificers 12-13, Grommets 6, Napalm Lullaby 7
Music: We Built This City, Closet MonsterI’m a contrarian. I don’t do it on purpose. There’s just something in my brain that hears an opinion or a thing accepted as fact and can’t help but play devil’s advocate and ask: what if it wasn’t?
It’s an absurd desire to see the other, that I can’t quite avoid. I used to call it opening worlds, and that’s a good an explanation as any, but it comes down to this. Whatever the view is, I want to see the other one.
Or another one. There’s rarely just two. It means constant growth, and it avoids dogma, but it does tend to put one on the outs with everyone else.
Always asking the question: what are the other ways to look at this? What if it’s not?
What if there’s another way?
What if there’s a hundred?
What about a thousand?
What if it’s infinite?
It’s taken me a long time to get used to the idea that this will never end, that there can be no end to perspective and questions.
And if puts me at odds with humanity, well, so fucking be it.
Target: 1300 words
Written: 1026 words, novel: Bad Neighbours
Read: Hammered, Elizabeth Bear (finally, enjoyed it, but too much interference)
Comics: The Sacrificers 6, The Holy Roller 2-4
Music: Wasting Light, Foo FightersBeing up north, as frustrating as it can be at times (family, am I right?), always leaves me introspective, and as we wound back down highway 11 toward home, I could help but think:
Has chastising someone for saying something politically incorrect ever actually worked?
My mom said Indian; my sister-in-law barked INDIGENOUS at her, with vitriol, like my mother was some raging bigot who wasn’t just stuck in the habit of saying Indian for over seventy years.
I see this all the time online and every time, I think, and you wonder why people radicalize away from you?
One could say, “I think they go by indigenous now,” in a nice, non-condescending tone, thereby sparking a conversation and education that ends amicably with at least one party elevated with an updated viewpoint, to hopefully, do better the next time around. If that party still resists at that point, and won’t listen to an updated viewpoint, well, then, yeah, okay. Maybe you got a bigot.
But most people aren’t that bad, and by escalating so quickly, and implying that they are horrible people right off the hop, well, you’re invalidating everything they are in favour of a label of bigot, fascist, whatever other horrible thing you’d like to use, over something that more often than not, is more micro than macro-aggression.
Think of it like this: you probably don’t think you’re a bad person. You likely don’t think you’re perfect, you might even think of yourself as being flawed or broken or screwed-up, but you probably don’t think you’re evil. You might think you make everyone’s lives worse, but that’s because you’re a fuck-up who can’t get their shit together, and not because you’re, you know, Hitler.
But let’s say one day that you use the word (and let’s keep it kind of ridiculous here) “ginger”.
And maybe a family member immediately turns to you and escalates, labelling you an absolute bigot, and telling that they go by “rouged” now, and that using ginger makes you a horrible racist and probably supportive of all the anti-trans, homophobic, sexist nonsense out there, and a Republican while you’re at it.
Now, you, even thinking you’re kind of a loser, probably don’t think that of yourself. And so, how do you respond?
Like pretty well everyone does when they feel they’ve been unjustly accused – defensively.
You get your back up. You get defensive because this person is trying to invalidate all the good parts of you, that no matter how screwed up you are, at your core, you know you’re not that, not EVIL, and reduce you down to this one thing – rougephobic.
And with that, all the other nonsense that gets conflated with one level of bigotry. If you’re transphobic, you must be anti-gay as well. You must hate lesbians and black people and Latinos and women. If you’re a women, you must be a TERF and probably pro-life as well.
Of course, you know you’re not that, so even if you don’t say it out loud, you push back. You internalize your indignation and all of a sudden, all these disingenuous assholes talking about the elitist left looking down their nose at you, start making a bit more sense. And you’re sucked in, a little more each time it happens, until you’re a full blown Trumper (I mean, hopefully not that far, but imagine this isn’t just one person doing this to you – it’s a million people, a literal million, in some cases, online, constantly, without cease. How far down the rabbit hole might you go in your anger at being unjustly labelled Evil).
And all this is knowing that if they’d just said, “I think they go by rouged now” in an informative and non-judgmental way, sparking a brief, but important conversation, you might have avoided any of that, avoided the defensive trigger response and even possibly, gained an ally.
Education, not condemnation. These are the keys to winning back those on the edge, those that just maybe need a little bit of knowledge, rather than vilification.
These are the things I think about as I drive.
And they’re the things that are killing the left – why we get smaller every day, while the lunatics swell in size.
Target: 1300 words
Written: 1256 words, novel: Bad Neighbours
Read: Hammered, Elizabeth Bear
Comics: A Righteous Thirst For Vengeance 10, Deadly Class 54-55, The Scumbag 14
Music: The Warrior's Code, Dropkick MurphysI spent much of the day on the water, trying to ignore everyone. I could float forever.
The sky was giant blue; there was beer on the shore.
My dogs seem tired, but happy, a little nervous.
The water is cool and refreshing. How nice it must feel to go deep.
Would that I could settle into a soft buzz.
Sadly, I don’t do drugs (anymore).
I do kind of miss them, though; just not all the shit around them. A whiskey to sharpen the edges, a cold beer to take it off. A nice glass of wine to sparkle, a long, low rum to get happy, man.
Nothing beats mushrooms.
Except mushrooms while staring at the great white North, falling into endless stars, rapt with aurora borealis.
I will miss here.
I hate the fields.
Target: 1300 words
Written: 256 words, novel: Bad Neighbours
Read: Hammered, Elizabeth Bear (maybe someday, maybe someday)
Comics: Deadly Class 52-53, A Righteous Thirst For Vengeance 8-9
Music: Everything Will Be Alright In The End, Weezer (how did I somehow miss, like, seven albums?)I’m playing in the land of metaphor this morning, detailing exactly where the left coincides with the right and the metaphors that bind them, in the context of Bad Neighbours.
Ironically, it ended being filtered through the judge’s verdict on the Hockey Canada sexual assault case acquittal, in which she posited that while we are all on the train of believing victims, doing so without examination essentially means applying the doctrine of guilty until proven innocent, when our system runs on innocent until proven guilty. There was enough conflicts, contradictions and assertions that didn’t agree with established facts in the case for the judge to reasonably decide that she could not say there was a crime committed, beyond doubt.
Reading the specifics of her verdict, I would probably make the same choice.
And it’s important, the distinction of innocent until proven guilty versus guilty until proven innocent. How many of us had listened to someone make assertions about the behaviour of their ex, or a coworker, or a friend or enemy that had no actual bearing in reality, even if we didn’t know it at the time? How many of us have had someone assert that their significant other was mistreating them, or playing the role of victim, or rationalizing away bad or regrettable behaviour on their part, because they didn’t actually want to take responsibility for what happened?
Most people don’t want to be responsible for their own actions. They live in denial. They falsely equivocate, they exaggerate, they outright lie, often to the point of deluding themselves as to what’s actually real, in order to avoid accountability for what’s ultimately on them.
You say you want freedom? You want truth?
You have to accept two things then: understand that total freedom comes with total responsibility – these are inseparable – and secondly, that reality is not what you want it to be, it’s what is, and if you want truth, you have to be willing to suspend your beliefs and the little fictions you tell yourself about yourself, or about the way things “should” be, and surrender your open, empty mind to what is, no matter the consequences.
Freedom is responsibility. Freedom is accepting consequence. Truth is what is, it’s not what you’d like to to be, or how you want to frame it. It’s what is.
So, innocent until proven guilty is the better way to go, because believing the accuser means automatically accepting their version of the truth, which we all know can be a highly creative, even self-deluding fiction at times. It can also be true, but that’s what the process is meant to find out (and admittedly, that depends on the competence and relative framework of the process, whether truly fair, fact-finding mission or kangaroo court). But guilty until proven innocent It’s not about what is; it’s about what’s asserted; it’s hypothesis without testing. You claim donkeys can fly, you have to prove that they can. The people you’re telling they can don’t.
That’s the way it works.
And that’s infinitely better than someone shouting, “Donkeys can fly!” and then having everyone that heard them run around scrambling to build wings for mules to make it true.
Target: 1300 words
Written: 2749 words, novel: Bad Neighbours
Read: Odds On, Michael Lange (John Crichton)
Comics: Low 22, Black Science 40-41, Deadly Class 39
Music: War On Errorism, NOFX (legit one of the best punk albums ever written)I once saw a chart that showed someone who worked super hard but made no connections versus someone who didn’t work, but made nothing but connections, and basically, it stuck them in two categories.
All work and no connection creates self-imposed martyrdom, while all connection and no work creates charlatans. Bullshitters versus drudge horses, with those that can find the balance (working hard and creating worthwhile things versus connecting with fans, with industry leaders and insiders, in a genuine, non-bullshit manner) as the true exceptions, the step above the rest. A martyr can find its work recognized and suddenly reach popularity, only to flame out over time (but still leaving behind good work).
A charlatan can become popular for nothing, and lose everything and be leave nothing behind.
I’m a martyr right now, that’s for sure.
May I never be a charlatan.
May I someday find the balance.
Target: 1300 words
Written: 1114 words, novel: Bad Neighbours
Read: Odds On, John Lange (Michael Crichton)
Comics: Deadly Class 37-38, Black Science 39, Low 21
Music: War, U2I had originally named the street my bad neighbours lived on Sigmund Avenue, but now, given the material, I rather think I’d like to find a name that is more fitting of the analogy of dichotomy I’ve made with this book.
With that in mind, I’m trying to track down the father of modern political dichotomy, the man most responsible for creating the left-right “split” that we’ve got going. I’m not talking about someone who exploits it, like Trump or Reagan or Bush (Junior or Senior).
I want the philosopher. The modern political thinker.
I’d considered Descartes, but the hunt continues.
Who started all this shit? Jesus?
Who was originator of us versus them as viable political theory? It has always been such; someone must have codified as proper, and watched as all these murderous assholes latched on to it. Who created authoritarianism, in its current sense?
Who is the son of bitch that said there’s only two sides to every issue, and third party be damned!
Which founding father is responsible for this shit?
Should that be a theme, a running theme? Things named after founding fathers who turned out to be assholes?
Who thought putting guns in the Constitution was a good idea?
I bet they’re one and the same.
Our way or no way. Us or them. Till death do us part.
Target: 1300 words
Written: 1413 words, novel: Bad Neighbours
Read: The Grass Is Singing, Doris Lessing
Comics: Seven To Eternity 6-7, Black Science 30, Deadly Class 29
Music: Extras: A Collection Of Rarities, The JamSly Stone dies and my sister lives another year. Good for her.
Not that she shouldn’t live another year. Like all the people I love, I hope she lives until I die, at least. After that, well, I hope for her sake she lives a long time, but hell, I’ll be dead. What would it matter to me?
Then again, there’s always reincarnation. Maybe I’ll come back as a vibrator.
Assuming I’m bought by a Hollywood starlet, that’d be cool, I guess.
Or a carrier of the Republican virus, in that it only targets individuals who voted Republican, and rewires their brains to be permanently set on Mr. Rogers.
Now, wouldn’t that be a nice cleanse?
Sometimes, I think the stars aligned and decided: there is something truly, profoundly wrong with this guy.
Target: 1200 words
Written: 1715 words, novel: Bad Neighbours
Read: Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card
Comics: Fathom v6 1-4
Music: Equal Strain On All Parts, Jimmy Buffett (fuck you, it's better than you think)I’m not really sure what that means other than a continued reaffirmation of the cycle of life and death, or the misconception that I had that he was already dead.
Not that I’m the biggest fan of the Family Stone, but there was some good stuff.
Death in obscurity; life in obscurity.
Death in Cheers; everyone knows your name; in life, as well.
Which end of the scale? Do we all forget Angela Cartwright and her sister? Do you know her sister’s name?
Who ran IBM in the Seventies? Who stood in front of the tanks?
Whatever happened to P.J. Soles?
There’s a strong chance I’m losing it; obscurity within the family unit has me lost.
Target: 1200 words
Written: 1510 words, novel: Bad Neighbours
Read: Blackbirds, Chuck Wendig
Comics: Aspen Universe: Revelations 2-5
Music: Eponymous, R.E.M.