Myriad

(This was originally written on Monday 3rd June 2002 as a journal entry. It has been edited here to protect the innocent and reflect more recent events)


I have no idea about anything. The older I get the less sure I am and the less I know (or think I know). No plans, no ideas, no prospects, no desires. No life?
I'm not depressed.
I'm quite happy actually
I'm happy being single.

Random thought: If the world was at peace would we still be able to produce the great art and science that conflict produces? And if we weren't, would it be worth it?

I regret being brainwashed by my parents and the church during my formative years. I regret not being more sexually active and aggressive. I regret being so timid when it comes to women. I regret not pursuing my musical and acting dreams. I regret doing what I was told to do. I regret my apathy towards causes that should force me to action. I regret being the lazy by-product of a materialistic consumer driven 20th century. I regret the 21st century has brought war and not peace. I regret that it took me so long to be deflowered. I regret to see my health and fitness declining. I regret not making out with Elissa in the 7th grade. I regret not having sex with Michelle after the Uni-ball. I regret that my cousins no longer have a father. I regret that four of my greatest friends lack the same. I regret the difficulties my niece has faced. I regret not following through with the guitar in the way I should. I regret never asking Kristina to go out with me. I regret being blind to the women who found me attractive. I regret all my racist, sexist, homophobic and bigoted remarks, thoughts and actions. I regret not being more genuinely accepting. I regret the words that caused pain. I regret putting on so much weight after high school. I regret not looking for more life affirming employment. I regret my shyness in all its manifestations and senses. I regret not taking that girl back to my hotel room. I regret pissing in the sink in primary school. I regret all the breakups. I regret not getting to know the one-nighters I've been with. I regret ignoring Diane the way I did. I regret the enemies I've made. I regret permitting evil to be done in my presence. I regret not remaining friends with the ones I've lost touch with. I regret that more people in my life and in the world don't pursue higher ideals. I regret that I never knew my father's parents. I regret that money is the world's prime motivator. I regret that even though I recognise money's evil influence I still derive joy in possessing it. I regret that even though my thoughts may occasionally be enlightened my actions are generally lurid and common. I regret that I have no one to share my intimate thoughts with. I regret my inabilities to share my deeper thoughts and emotions. I regret getting that speeding ticket. I regret that I continue to have lustful thoughts about the sisters and girlfriends of my friends. I regret that I cannot tame or control my sexual thoughts. I regret being a slave to my hormones. I regret being a physical animal. I regret the contradictions I discover in myself. I regret my hypocrisy. I regret that it took me so long start again. I regret not pursuing the dream. I regret not making plans. I regret that I can't talk about such things with my parents. I regret that sex is perceived as something unclean. I regret that only politicians go into politics. I regret that every day there is always some new way to die or be killed. I regret that George Lucas chose to direct Episodes I, II, and III. I regret that sex so dominates my thoughts. I regret jerking off so much. I regret that pleasure is often considered a crime. I regret that people are awarded money for being stupid. I regret the lies that I've told. I regret telling the truth. I regret being a 27 year old boy. I regret the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. I regret that women are still 2nd class citizens. I regret that people being killed just makes others want to kill. I regret that I want love. I regret my regrets. I don't regret that I believe I've come to the end of my regrets.

Well that was certainly enlightening, not to mention entertaining. So many regrets. Still I seem happy with the way I've turned out. I think. It's just not all smiles and sunshine. I am glad I did that. It was slightly cathartic. Hell if you can't be honest with yourself than really what's the point. I may as well write fiction.

When you have something to say, it is often the case that someone has said it before and put in a way that you could never even begin to approach.

For examples, please see the following...

We live in a twisted world, where right is wrong and wrong reigns supreme. It is a chilling fact that most of the world's leaders believe in nonsensical fairytales about the nature of reality. They believe in Gods that do not exist, and religions that could not possibly be true. We are driven to war after war, violence on top of violence to appease madmen who believe in gory mythologies.

These men are called Christians, Muslims and Jews.

Osama bin Laden is insane. He believes God whispered in the ear of Mohammed 1,400 years ago about how he should conquer Arabia. Mohammed was a pure charlatan -- and a good one at that. He makes present religious frauds like Pat Robertson look like amateurs.

He said God told him to have sex with as many of the women he met as possible. I'm sorry, I meant to say "take them as wives." God told him to kill all other tribes that stood in his way or that would not placate him with assurances of loyalty or bribes. God told him, conveniently, that everyone should follow him and never question a word he said.

He sold this bag of goods to the blithering idiots who lived in the Arabian Peninsula at the time. If that weren't shockingly stupid enough, over a billion people continue to believe the convenient lies that Mohammed told all that time ago -- to this very day.

We live in a world full of insane people. Sanity is an island battered in an ocean of frothing delusion. The people who believe in science are the minority. The people who believe in bloody fairytales are the overwhelming majority.

George W. Bush is the most powerful man alive. He is a class A imbecile. He is far less intelligent than the average Christian. But like most of the others, he believes Jesus died for his sins. That idea is so perverse and devoid of logic it should shock the conscience. Instead, it gets him elected, and earns him the reverence of a great percentage of America. America! The most advanced country in the world -- run by a bunch of villagers who still believe Santa Claus is going to save them.

There is no damn Easter Bunny. There is no Jesus waiting to return. Moses never even existed. These were all convenient lies from the men of those times to gain power. Their actions were rational -- they wanted to deceive their brethren so that they could amass power. I get their motivations. But I cannot, for the life of me, understand our motivations, thousands of years later, still following the conmen of yesteryear into our gory, bloody, violent end.

Jesus is said to have said on the cross, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" Because Jesus was insane and the God he thought would rescue him did not exist. And he died on that cross like a fool. He fancied himself the son of God and he could barely convince twelve men to follow him at a time when the world was full of superstition.

Excellent marketing by some of his followers would later rescue his botched effort. How many people saw his miracles? One? Twelve? Eighty? Why didn't he show the whole world? Not because this is some giant pop quiz by God to test us -- but because he did not perform any miracles!

Even his apostles can't agree on what miracles he supposedly carried out or when he carried them out. Or whether he returned after death or he didn't. Whether they saw him in person or just as a vision. Rational human beings shouldn't believe this kind of nonsense. Yet most of the world does.

If a man today killed his only son to show how much he loved other people, he would be considered a madman, locked in jail and earn society's contempt. Yet we think this is some sort of noble act by our Father in Heaven.

In Heaven? What, with the harps and the winged angels and the 72 virgins? My God, how stupid do you have to be to believe that?

I know most of you don't actually read your religious texts, and when you do, you assiduously try to avoid the parts that make no sense whatsoever or hide underneath the comforting grasp of your religious leaders who have concocted a bunch of circular logic (a crime to even use that word in regards to Christianity, Islam or Judaism) to shield you from the obvious folly of the written text.

So, I'm not calling you stupid if you haven't really read the material. And I know how powerful brainwashing is. We all received it when we were young and it is exceedingly difficult to break its grasp. But people dance around the issue out of politeness because they don't want to call you what you are -- ignorant.

There are a lot of people I love dearly and respect wholeheartedly who believe in religion. I hate to do this to them. But we have killed far too many people, wasted far too much time on this nonsense for us to keep going in this direction for fear of offense.

Jesus was a lunatic. God is not coming to your rescue. He hasn't come to anyone's rescue in thousands of years, including Jesus. Mohammed was a power hungry, scam artist and ruthless conqueror. Moses and Abraham were figments of the imagination of some long dead rabbi. He would probably laugh his ass off at all of you who still believe the fairytales he made up thousands of years ago. He probably wouldn't even believe it if you told him.

Did I mention Judaism? The chosen people? Come on, get off it. People walk around in clothes from 18th century Russia, thinking they have been chosen by God when they look like a bunch of jackasses. I'm tired of all the deaths because we did not want to give offense. Orthodox Jews are wrong and ridiculous.

As are the orthodox and fundamentalists of all of the religions. It says in the Bible that it is an abomination to wear clothes made of two different cloths or to eat shellfish. If you think God will hate you because you mixed wool and linen or because you ate some shrimp, you are insane.

How long are we going to dance around the 800-pound gorilla in the room? The world is run by madmen. It's not just Bush and bin Laden. It is the leader of all of the countries in the Middle East, almost all of the Americas and most of the rest of the world.

Have I offended you? That's too bad. Stop killing each other in the name of false and ridiculous Gods and I will stop ridiculing you. Trust me, your offense is much worse than mine.

Right now as you read this, there are ignorant, hateful Muslims teaching other ignorant Muslims how to put on a suicide belt. There are orthodox Jews telling other Jews how they must never leave their "holy land" no matter what the consequences are to other human beings. They assure their followers -- remember, they are not the chosen ones, we are. If we crush and oppress them, don't worry, God will excuse it, and even desires it, because He is on our side.

There are maniacal Christians who are praying for the end of time. Who are hoping that most of the world's population is wiped off the face of the Earth by their vengeful and murderous God. Whom they believe is, ironically, a loving God. Unless, of course, you make the fatal mistake of not kissing his ass and appeasing him, in which case he will slaughter you and condemn you to eternal torture. What kind of sick people believe this?

The kind who live next to you. The kind who voted for George Bush. The kind who send their religious leaders to the White House to argue against even-handedness in the Middle East because it would prevent their sick prophecy. The kind who have undue influence over how we use the greatest and most lethal army ever built by man.

If you don't want to be called ignorant or misinformed, then get informed. Learn the real nature of our universe and put aside old wives tales about resurrected Gods, omniscient prophets and a guy who could split the Red Sea but couldn't find where he's going in the desert for forty years.

- Cenk Uygur

- Percy Bysshe Shelley

You are a nice guy. I really, really like you. But...


Most guys have heard this.

I wasn't surprised. It was obvious that she was the type of girl who wanted, needed a proper relationship. And that just wasn't me. At least not with her.

She's cool and all, but not worth the effort of an actual relationship.

Truth be told, not many women are worth the effort. At least not to me. Don't get me wrong. It's not like I'm turning away pussy left, right and centre. In fact quite the opposite. Times are starting to get desperate.

But that doesn't mean I'm gonna start dating every dumbshit that comes along just 'cause she has a vagina. I've done that. It's really not as much fun as it appears. At least not anymore.

I want a relationship. Don't misunderstand. But I need someone I can connect with on a intellectual level, more so than a physical one. She doesn't have to read Plato and Aristotle, but she has to of at least heard of them. I'm not looking for a genius, just someone who isn't a complete moron.

Is that so much to ask?

Some say the internet is like a series of tubes.

Those people are idiots.

The internet is an invention. A tool.

A tool that allows disparate pockets of humanity to connect with one another.

And download porn.

You know, all the important stuff.

Putting porn to one side, for the moment, if you can. Making connections is what this is about.

The human animal has been evolved over millenia to seek out emotional attachments. We form emotional bonds with anything and eveything. From pets to inanimate objects to abstract mental constructs.

Our strongest bonds, however, are reserved for other member of our species.

Friends, lovers, family members, sympathetic characters. We get attached. We hold on. We never want to let go.

All of our greatest fears, our sadness, our ugliness is based on the disconnect we feel when someone leaves us. They die, they disappear, they find someone new. It's one of the primary themes of human existence.

As is connection. The two facets of our existence that act most strongly on our psyche.

We do all in our power to make connections with like minded people. We try to improve how we look and who we are, in order to make ourselves more appealing. Not necessarily to the world at large but rather to the pockets of humanity we feel comfortable with.

So when something like the internet comes along, that allows you to connect with all kinds of people, from all over the globe, it's perfect.

Whatever niche you fit in, you can find your place online.

If you love to have your left pinky toe sucked to the theme of mighty mouse, you will find someone who shares your passion online.

You will connect and form bonds and be opened up to new ideas. You will find virtual friends and lovers and it will be good.

You will tell her you love her. He will profess his undying devotion.

You will swap pics, and webcam and email.

You will feel exactly as you would in real life. Same butterflies, same cold sweats, same dopey smile on your face.

The only trouble is, it's not really real. Because you're in Boise and she's in Bhutan.
And no matter how open and honest you are, or claim to be, you can never fully realise the entirety of that person.

Yes they could be flat out lying to you. Definite possibility.

What's more likely is that your perception of them is simply wrong. Assuming you do ever meet, who they are and who you perceive them to be are two completely different things.

In all relationships, particularly romantic ones, we idealise the other person. We filter out the flaws and the smooth out the rough edges in our minds. We put them on a pedestal and bask in their radiant glow.

The thing is, in the real world, reality has a tendency to burst our fucking bubbles and bring us crashing to earth in a pile of our own regret and sorrow. Because in the real world there are no barriers. When you are lying naked with the girl of your dreams, there are few secrets left to divulge. Every scar, every pock mark, every part of her is revealed to you.

Beyond even the physical aspect, you cannot hide who you are. When you are actually with a person, living with them, being with them, they cannot help but reveal themselves. It's true that there are some parts of us that never see the light of day but most things don't. Because they can't.

But in the virtual world, everything is filtered. Yes you love him, you care about him, you think about him all the time, you want nothing more than to be with him. But you don't really know him and he doesn't know you.


So am I against internet relationships? No.

I am totally for any relationship that will bring you joy and make you feel a little warmer in this cold, uncaring universe.

Like I said, one of humanities primary motivations is the desire to connect with others of or species. We are hard wired to do so. And it is fantastic when we do. It is when we feel most alive, most human.

Because let's face it kids, loneliness is the knife that keeps twisting until it leaves you cold and broken. It leaves you clamouring for any kind of warmth and affection. Leaves you willing to take anything, anyone, boy or girl.

Take your chances kids, whether in the real world, or this one. Yes you will hurt and yes you will feel pain. But no pain is worse than the pain of nothing. Of emptiness. Of loneliness.

If hell really did exist it would not be fire and brimstone. It would be the lack of heat. If would not be piles of screaming humanity. It would be empty and alone.

Stay warm my friends, and if you can throw some warmth my way once in awhile I'd be more that happy to reciprocate.

So the first thing I remember is I'm standing in the hallway banging on the door.

It's late, or early. Depending on who you ask.

I'm standing there knocking/banging and I'm standing there in boxers and black socks and a white singlet. A wife beater.

And I'm busting to take a piss. Absolutely fucking busting.

I don't know how long I was out there. I don't even know why. I just knew that I needed a toilet, or similar, fast.

I began to look around the halls for a pot plant. Something. Anything. But no luck.

Back to the door. Keep knocking. Louder.

It's started to get cold now but all i can think of is my bladder.

It's full to the brim with the remnants of the night's alcohol intake. Jack Daniels. No ice. No mixer.

I'm very rock and roll.

I rock quite hard. Which is how I found myself in that state. An evening of loud rock and roll music and copious amounts of alcohol. All the elements of a pleasant evening. Including the missing memory.

And it was a pleasant evening. Very much so. But it doesn't change the fact that I'm locked out of my hotel room in my underwear and a bladder full of booze.

Hoping, praying to a fictional deity that my room mate isn't a heavy sleeper.