Critical criticism is crucial...or so I thought

OK so you all know me. My brain runs at ten billion miles a second when working on some kind of creative puzzle, and about one mile a year on mathematical or logical problems. And I pride myself on my ability to 'insert a giant banana' into any creative problem and find a solution. Although of course last week I couldn't and that got me down. And all you wonderful people rallied and said that I'm sometimes to harsh on myself.

Now I want to know am I too harsh on others? For example this past week I've been writing proposals for SABC and company and working with a producer whom I only met on Wednesday. Each day he'd come into my apartment - thankfully clean now that the maid has returned - and we'd brainstorm ideas from 0900 till 1800. We'd attack one another's ideas furiously, looking for weakness, uncertainty, and most of all better angles from which to tell the story.

I like stories. I like hearing them, and I like making them. I think I do a pretty good job at both. So when I get presented with a story I like to make sure it works for me - which means it needs to be captivating, and niggly details need to be in place. But crucially the tale needs to told by someone who believes in their story. So this producer and I would make sure that we believed in the idea first.

Once you believe in your story you can fight out the details later. So when someone discusses their ideas with me - story, life plan or other idea - I look for the belief in the story first, and then the actual story. I know my boss does the same, and until I learned that is what he was looking for, I was damned irritated by it. I couldn't work out why he was interested in some minor point rather than the bigger picture. Now I realize he's attacking the small points to see if I remain true to myself. The correct answer of course to someone picking up a thread of uncertainty or weakness is: It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things because X.

However what I also learned, and what came to be painfully true but from another friend of mine was that sometimes those loose threads will unravel the whole plan, no matter how good it is. And the loose threads need to be tied up, sometimes before the rest of the plan can be put into action. In fact he was so negative about all my plans, that - and I remember it clearly - as he walked down my drive way I told him about some hair-brained scheme or other, and he shot it down. I remember telling him that if shot all my plans, my dreams down, I didn't need him in my world anymore.

Thankfully he realized that dreams, that plans, are sometimes all that we have. All that we can call our own, and genuinely believe it. Those little schemes, which might not lead anywhere, have at least opened us up to a different perspective, a different way of seeing things. And that might very well lead us to completing one of our dreams. Which would be fantastic. Now I'm forced to admit that I use my mental faculties far to often - again as some of you, and my therapist pointed out - and so whenever someone presents an idea to me, those little grey cells flare up, and begin building patterns of narrative, looking for angles, both good and bad.

What I learned today from my office staff, is that the good angles, the praise, is often put aside, and only the negative, the bad options vocalized. So instead of giving the originator of the story hope and encouragement, all that comes out is a barrage of possible weakness's, potential faults, and solutions to problems which may never arise. Whereas it should have been a barrage of encouragement, and of support, with the voicing of the negatives delivered later, or perhaps only upon request.

But that leads me to my dilemma. If I can see problems, shouldn't I voice them? As friend, employer, lecturer, general busybody is it not my responsibility to voice issues if I see them? The balance I suppose is called a shit sandwich. A term my students begged me to use, and take to heart. For those of you, like myself, the idea of a shit-sandwich, was a little repulsive. But this is what is means: It means you start with something nice, a supportive comment, then you hit them with the negative comments - the shit - and finally you finish off with a good compliment to bolster spirits. Now personally I think whomever came with the idea of a that was an idiot. Firstly, bread, almost regardless of the contents of the sandwich, can at best be described as neutral, not good. Secondly bread comes with crusts, which is a tough, nasty bit.

But I get the point. I sometimes just find it difficult to include the bread with the sandwich it seems. So to all of you who have presented me with an idea or a plan or a dream, that I've just shat on without providing any pastry (is bread a pastry? or is it a dough? or what? who cares? But for those who do, I encourage you to answer [see I can do it... although I think we all hear the sarcasm in that sentence... sigh, back to the drawing board.]) I do apologize. But then I think - and this is my last thought for the week I promise: Surely we should believe enough in our own dreams that the words of others, that the shit of others should count little? I know all that bumpf about us being social and genetically required to seek approval from others, but you get some people who can take shit, look at it, absorb some of it, and toss the rest back. OK I agree. Time for another metaphor, there's too much shit here...

When should we as humans step back and accept criticism, and change, and when should we defend to our dying breath our idea? Isn't that the problems with religion? Politics? Family? We can't define it. Some people are good at accepting criticism, some seek it out (some to their own determent), whilst others take it so personally that it causes great strife and rifts. Why are some more open than others? Is it all to do with self esteem? Is it to do with the fear of rejection? Or is it the ultimate fear that the dream is just an illusion?

I don't know, and I hope that when I get critical responses to my ideas that I am gracious enough to look at the criticism and learn or adapt or defy it. How one chooses which of the three options to go with, I do not know. So what are you then dear reader? A shit-sandwich salesman? A shit sandwich eater, or just a shit stirrer? Or like me just a shit?

(I am only joking about the last bit, I'm not a shit, I'm a pompous git... who thinks rhyme at this time of night is funny...)

Failure...finally

This isn't going to be a long one. I promise. But I feel it needs to be written, perhaps as a confession, perhaps as a way of absolving myself. I don't know. For much of my considerable life ( considerable in comparison to say a field mouse or a gnu) I have bull-shitted (Bull-Shat?) my way through. Whether it's lying about being able to do something, lying about facts, lying about information, lying about how I feel, it has all really been a smoke-and-mirrors type of game with me being able to pull a rabbit out of the hat at the last moment and save myself.

There are certain times for sure when I've realized that I couldn't do something. Loose weight for example is one of those things that I doubt will ever happen. Or giving up milk. That certainly will never happen. But when it comes to my profession, the thing that I love doing the most because it allows all my bull-shit to work, I have never encountered something that has been impossible. Oh I've worked hard, and that is no bullshit. I've spent sleepless nights working to get something done that others would have never dreamed of attempting. But I did it.

And although a lot of the work I do is really just bull-shit dressed up in fancy clothes, people buy it, and comment on how nicely it works. It has always been a secret fear of mine that someone will see it for what it is. And some of my friends do point it out, painfully so. And it causes me deep shame when they do because no matter how I try to bull-shit my way it's merits or values (implied, or non-existant) I know deep down that they are right.

So for a con-man, a bull-shitter, to be caught out, and not be able to worm a solution is a very humbling thing. For it is the mark of the ultimate fail. A piece of work that is held together with smoke and mirrors, promises of delivery delayed through words and loop-holes, these are in many regards successes. And Heaven forbid a bull-shit that actually works. That's just heaven. I'm very close to achieving one of those, with the aid of some hard workers that I've managed to con into believing I know what I'm doing.

But tomorrow I have to admit that there is something in my profession that no matter what technical trickery, what magical smoke I blow across it just will not work. I cannot do it. I couldn't do it if I spent a week doing it. And yet I said I could. I know perhaps I'm being too hard on myself, and that no one else can do it either. There might be some arsehole out there who'll spend his whole weekend doing it, and get it right, or some other cunt who will do it half-arsed and it'll be accepted because of time pressure, but I cannot get the work done to my usual level of bull-shit.

Which of course makes me stop and think: If my bull-shit is a little more polished, a little more dedicated to being a better kind of bull-shit, does that make mine worth more than some other bull-shitter? Does that make me a better person? Or just a slightly better bull-shitter? I don't know. I really don't. I guess that's also why I can't trust other people - intrinsically, and possibly why relationships are doomed to fail: I see everyone as being a bull-shitter. Some good at it, others not. I also see some who are perhaps not bull-shitters, but who are real. Who are honest. And although they are really nice people, they don't seem to have a spark.

The spark of course is the excitement of carrying a bull-shit beyond just a thought. The spark is putting something out into the world, and watching it grow, change, develop, and turn into something solid that others then use. It's like a perverse way of altering the universe. It's sad to think that the only way I'll alter the universe is by smearing my bull-shit onto it. And yet, sometimes my bull-shit is meant with the very best of intentions. So perhaps bull-shit is the wrong term? What could I replace it with?

To bull-shit is to offer up something that is not real, as being real. The reason for offering up something can be motivated by a few things: Greed, envy, social pressure, love, hatred... there are many reasons for bull-shitting. When we offer a sympathetic ear to a friends woes, and offer them advice that it'll be better, or that their decision was a good one - technically we don't know for certain (we can't right) so we're bull-shitting. When we accept more responsibilities at work, we're bull-shitting that we can do it, either to ourselves or our bosses. When we have children we bull-shit everyone (we're capable of raising other humans). I mean which parent on Earth raises their first child with complete confidence?

No we all bull-shit to some degree. Could I replace bull-shitting with: Decision making? I make a conscious decision to exaggerate my abilities to a client in the hopes of getting business? I make a decision to make my friend feel better by saying to him that he's a wonderful dresser? So why bull-shit? Why lie? Because we're programmed to do it. Only some of us have little moral codes that jump into the way: I don't lie. Really? Tell your mother-in-law what you really think of her?

I don't lie - so keeping silent about the affair you know of is not lying? It's what? None of your business? Surely the other person would say: if you knew why didn't you say? No I think evidence far outweighs all arguments: As Humans we lie. Social requirements. So it's just some Humans who say that certain types of lying is good or acceptable and other types are not. Oh God I know, I've spoken about my lying before. It's irritating. I lie. I don't like it. I can't help it. It just happens. Well tonight I lied and now tomorrow I have to admit it.

And if fucking sucks. So why do we do it? Ah fuck. Humans! Who fuck'en want's 'em? I don't. So how do you bull-shit? And how do you feel when you're stuck in a lie? And it keeps going? Or growing? Who are you lying to at the moment? And is it really necessary? (Stop shaking your head, of course you think it's necessary, cause you're bull-shitting yourself that it is...).

Anyway, all of you wonderful people have a great evening (see how easy it is to lie. I don't care if you have a great evening or just a normal evening...) and think about it: If you stopped bull-shitting for a day how many friends/family would you have to politely tell to go fuck themselves? Really...

Sperm... and its results...

Sperm. Eeeeewwwww... Ick! Sis... Gross! Hand me a tissue... What's that on your face? I first discovered sperm whilst in the bath tub. I must have been around 12 or so. For a few years before I had managed to achieve erections, but without anyone around to tell me what to do, I'd just kinda stare at it. Then in the bath one night, I was lathering myself up with soap... all innocent when Johnny one-eye pops up. So I soap him up. Suddenly my whole body spasms and I feel sick in my stomach. But in a good way. My first ejaculation.

Well... that was the start of a whole new world. I could suddenly jerk off. If I was religious I'd say it was God's gift to mankind. Ironic then that most religions say it isn't... I knew by then that I was gay. It's difficult not to. So it was only a matter of time until I tasted it. Yes, yes... stop squealing.

This blog is about that very reaction.

I never had the 'wet dream' that is the eternal embarrassment of most young boys. I guess I either didn't get horny enough or and this is my feeling: I was so self conscious of being gay, and what gay sex represented that I didn't allow myself the option of getting to the point of physical ejaculation whilst sleeping. Until I was about 22 all my erotic dreams involved me watching other people have sex. I was never a participant.

Sex, and all it's associated fluids, were so taboo, so evil, that I daren't associate myself with it, even in my wildest fantasies! Oh when I was conscious I could whack off with images of my best friends, male actors, hell... anything. But never with myself as one of the participants in sex. Always as an observer. Of course by the time I was 16 I had the internet at home, and black and white pictures of naked men would slowly download themselves in front of me and my frantically jerking hand. Sometimes being left handed and using a right handed mouse has it's advantages...

Anyway I digress. So one day I decided instead of blasting my load (how many different words are there for sperm?) onto my stomach and then mopping up with a cum-shirt (I had an old t-shirt which was used exclusively for clean-up operations) I thought... let's taste this stuff. Well I tasted it. For those of you who have not it's nothing special. It's a salty, slick taste. Sure different food groups change the after-taste slightly, but in general it has a fairly bland taste. I nearly threw up though. And not because I don't like salt.

The idea of it in my mouth was what repulsed me.

How stupid is that? I don't vomit when tears run down my cheeks and into my mouth. I don't vomit when I swallow my own spit. It's not urine or shit. It's not a by-product, a waste product. It's an excretion. Like sweat. Like tears. Like spit (shut up I know some are called secretions but you get my point). So why then do we freak out about it? Just because it's salty? Or because it represents life? I mean we're all here because our mothers allowed our fathers to blast their man-goo inside them. Should we be repulsed at our own beings? For heaven's sake: we're made from sperm and egg. Why should ingesting either be repulsive? (Are we afraid it's a bit cannibalistic? Or would that be pre-cannibalistic? Or proactive cannibalism: before the womb! Fresher is better?)

We eat other animals fluid/sexual bits: Milk, Eggs, caviar... I'm currently eating nut granola (muesli to the uneducated apparently) and milk. Plant sex bits, washed down with cow excretion. Surely I should at least be eating those nuts with human milk? Home made fresh from the breast. Isn't that more appealing than from some other animals 'breast'? No? Why?

I couldn't ejaculate with another man next to me. I didn't know why. No that's a lie... I couldn't help myself even though I knew why. I was still ashamed/embarrassed t o cum in front of someone else. I couldn't see myself in as a sexual participant, even though I was, technically! It was only with the help of a very special person who refused to leave until I'd splooged myself. He was very dedicated to making sure it happened. Since then, I haven't had a problem. In fact it gets easier each time.

(I hope you're keeping track of all the words for sperm and ejaculation...)

Now, since moving up to Johannesburg my scope of sexual experience has increased. I've slept with all the major racial groups on the planet: whites, blacks, Indians, Chinese, and all those in between. It's not that many people but it's across the board. I like that I can sleep with any male, it means I can appreciate beauty for beauty's sake. I'm not aesthetically racist. Or should that be sexually racist? Each group has a totally different approach to sex. And to sperm.

What I also find interesting, and this is just an aside - I've only slept with non-circumcised men. I long to sleep with a cut man. The reason being is that the uncircumcised boys are very delicate when dealing with the penis. Cut men, being less sensitive due to constant exposure of the nerves would be a bit more... rigorous. Which is more my cup of tea. But anyway, that's perhaps another blog.

Stereotypically it's true: blacks have bigger penises, indians and chinese have small ones, and whites are in between. What that says about evolution and the human male I do not know. Some research here may be interesting. I'm sure its been done, I'll leave it up to my resident researcher to find it. But in terms of semen... it all comes out the same way, and all looks the same. I haven't plucked up the courage yet to swallow another man's sperm. Again with the eeeew? Surely by now you'd be used to the idea? No? Me neither. Why does it represent another level? A newer type of intimacy?

I kiss other men, and swap spit like it's going out of fashion. Why not swap jizz? What is it that keeps us so rigid... har har about spermatozoa? I can only assume it's because since the time of Jesus it's been bad. Apart from the idea of swallowing thousands (if you catch it all) or hundreds of potential babies (OK, even I'm grossed out now) it's really just a salty substance. Tequila, lemon, and salt with a dash of Amarula cream... or as it's know Woman's Revenge (it's a shooter) comes pretty close to approximating the taste, without the burn of the cheap tequila.

Now something that has always fascinated me is: What do straight boys do with their wad? If you angle your penis away from you, it jerks and spits in all directions and you end up wiping little bits of crusty hard white substance off your computer monitor for weeks. Aim it towards you and you hit yourself in your hair, and the back of your chair... and the oppose wall if you're good. I hate cum hair. It really does stick together. So what do you do? Throw a sock over it? Aim for your stomach? If you don't have as expansive a one as I do, that's a narrow landing strip. Or just hold some tissue in place? I really don't know, and I'd love to know - once the eruption of the one eye'd trouser snake is over then what? Klenex as the recent film 'Kick Ass' suggested? Do straight guys get freaked out about touching their own baby batter? (Isn't that a lovely one?)

Or do they quietly mop up without thinking? And what about all my women readers out there? What do you do with your mans jism? Lick it up? Mop it up? Tell the bastard to clean up his own mess? Hope it doesn't make it's way all the way up and found a new child? Just what do you do with spattered protein shake? And why are we all so terrified or repulsed by the stuff? So dear reader... just what do you do with yours?

The Human Paradox

It occurs to me after much reading and discussing and talking and thinking and crying and bemoaning that the human condition exists in a state of constant paradoxical flux. We aspire to being better than we are, and we have established clearly defined ways of getting there. We have societal maps for how to become better, we have religious texts that give us mortal and immortal ways of getting to where we want to go (or in some cases how we should get there).

Any culture has these basic 'This is a Human' plan. We are raised, we grow, and we become 'Good Human'. But I think that we are doing it incorrectly. Because we constantly have these rules, we update them, and adapt them as we change as a society, and as a people. Pre-Bibical mass duplication (printing of the bible) stoning, hanging (even post), death through dueling was all perfectly acceptable. Then we updated.

We are at a point now where we are as liberal as we're going to get, in South Africa, anyway. I'm fairly certain I could win in the Constitutional court that I should be allowed to walk around naked if I should so want. But what are all these laws for? Why do we have them? What exactly does law do? Well one thing that it does is (and this is the only area I'm interested in this blog, so those of you already adding 'what law does' to your list of things to argue about, fuck off) or should I say, it's designed to do, is to control our Human nature.

And it is here that we find the paradox. It is the Emotion versus the State. In nature animals have emotional wants and needs. To be part of a pack, to mate, to eat, to perhaps bond for life. Those emotions are kept in check by natural means: You can't shag anyone when you're horney because A: You only get horney when someone is in heat, and B: the alpha male of the pack will fuck you up first (Bonobo's, Dolphins, and that weird type of sloth are except from this). Or in other cases, you can't have the desire to mate, because you don't have a penis (or vagina or both). It's fairly straight forward. Females only become aroused (generally, stop looking for holes in my argument...[har har] fuck off) when they come into heat. How easy would that be?

Humans however started out like all the other wild life (sorry Christians and others, if you're right then I'm just stupid and I apologize) and so the dominate alpha male could fend off the horney guys and homosexuality wasn't a word, just a good time with the guys (bonobo's engage in all kinds of kinky sex acts, but unless eek is their word for gay homosexuality doesn't exist for them either, they just know how to have a good time). But as we grew dominate over the animals and as the need to settle down developed (through agricultural discoveries) our numbers grew and our means of control changed.

For millenia, violence prevailed. Want something take it. If the owner disagrees club one another to death. Then family developed and inter-family marriages happened. And suddenly we had to learn self control. Where and when we decided 'mine' is 'mine' and won't be shared I do not know, but that is - in my humble opinion - the root of all evil. I suppose it came naturally. The lazy in the tribe would benefit from the hard-working and so the hard-working would get pissed off. Why should I, Ug, spend (why are cavemen always called Ug, Org, Og, Zog, or Arg?)... let me rephrase: Why should I, Mammothhunterkillerwithonespearwhilstshaggingchiefswife, why should I - have the share the meat that I killed with Ipaintalldayandmakeprettypicturesandsleptwiththechiefswifeyesterday? After all, he just says he made the mammoths appear. Hmmm. It is mine now. And if he tries to take it, I shall fuck him up.

And so the lazy ones realized - shit we need a plan, we're lazy and still thin. Lets invent law. Now Jared Diamond presents a much clearer argument, but I've wildly summarized it in these above paragraphs. Laws came (as did writing) to ensure that what Mammothhunterkillerwithonespearwhilstshaggingchiefswife did was equally measured next to the lazy Ipaintalldayandmakeprettypicturesandsleptwiththechiefswifeyesterday. In doing so a kind of harmony was restored to the tribe. And once you have a rule for one thing, the next set of fifty (forget ten) is so much easier.

'He did what? Right! Henceforth it is illegal to shit on another mans sleeping mat.' Advance forward 12 000 years and this rule is still in effect. It is illegal in almost all countries of the world to defacate on another persons property. Are we not advance!

What is my point? Well as a society we've become so obsessed about creating rules that govern our interactions with society (other humans) that the religions stepped in and developed some rules about how we interact with ourselves - but still on a socially acceptable level. There are many religious rules about how we should be kind, compassionate, love one another (plutonically) and so forth. So we spend our lives trying to A: learn all the rules, B: Follow those rules, C: Breaking the rules and then looking for rules to hide behind, D: Inventing new rules, and E: Changing the rules.

I have been told that I over-analyize my thoughts. That I look to deep. I've been told that it's bad not the analyize your thoughts and just act. I've been told that sometimes you just have to act. And that other times you just have to take it.

Why do we spend all our time trying to learn rules for something that we made up, as opposed to understanding our fundamental natures? We don't have rules on love. Why? Because we forgot about the important things - the fundamentals, and just made some rules about who can love who, how, when, and for how much. There are literally hundreds of rules and regulations on the act of sex. Mentally disabled people cannot have sex - ever. It's considered rape. Even if they have sex with one another. You can't have sex with someone in a coma, it's rape (non-consentual even it's your husband/wife/life partner). You can't have sex in public, even through every single one of us on the planet is a direct result of two people having sex.

What though are the rules on why you want to have sex in the first place? Rule out external influences like peer pressure, alcohol, drugs etc. What draws two people together to have sex (in the cerebral sense) and what then makes them want to stay together (in the cerebral sense). The answer is sadly: nothing. We are acting on chemical stimulants. In a non-externally induced sense of arrousal our bodies are reacting to instinctual urges. (cerebrally we can choose not to act on those instincts) but physically it's not our brains (higher functions - the arrogance of calling it that) it's our genetic make-up (including but not limited to DNA, RNA, Prions, etc).

Then you throw into that bag all the mental baggage that comes with it. If someone was raped, they are arroused but mentally withdrawn perhaps. If someone is clingy then post sex they'll want to hang around, drawing mental energy from their partner in a vain attempt to fill their own lost energy. Why don't we have rules for these? Some guide or training session that every human (we are after all the same at birth) should go through. I'm not talking sex education here, I'm talking self awareness education. Develope the abilities of the individual to understand how their brain is working first. Once you know - Oh shit, I'm a needy person. Then you can work on changing that. If however you go through life concerned about paying your taxes on time, you'll never understand why your husband left you, or why your son thinks you're a demented old cow.

I think that we as humans grew up too quickly, and found a 'quick' fix far to easily in the form of social pressure to contrain and trap our inner Emotional states. We couldn't handle it so we worked around it. And then got trapped in the working around. Why is my seven year old crying when I won't buy him a sweet? He's a greedy pig. No. There may be far more to it than that. Imagine if from the ages of six we began helping children to explore emotions and to learn how to express themselves? By the time they reach puberty and we're teaching them sex education it is not a taboo, it's merely another part of being human - one that they are better prepared for, because it is not seen as something evil.

What a world. And those of you who say that kids are not prepared for it? Really? How do you know unless you try. Actually... fuck off, I don't like the way you think you fucking rules lawyer. Fuck off to your own little corner and go feel guilty about wanking this morning or whatever it is you do to survive the social pressure you put on yourself.

Anyway, my whole point of this long post is that what I've realized from my dilemma about relationships is that you can think too much about them, not enough about them, you can choose to make a choice or not. You can weigh up the 'pro's' and 'cons' and you can make lists and pie-charts (not that I've done these). In the end all you can do is make a decision and hope it's the right one. You can't take another persons feelings into account, you don't know what they are, and the sad truth is, you don't really know what your own are either. You only think you know.

I've realized it is not the little things, or the big things, (smoking or farting in church or whatever) it isn't about the history or the good times and the bad times. It is about what you feel. And since we are inadequetly trained on how to evaluate those feelings in terms of quantitative reasons for existance, all you are really left with is the 'Human Paradox' which is to follow social rules and norms, or to follow your own fucked up emotional urges. The two are very often in complete opposition to one another. One is for the good of others, and the other is for the good of yourself. We don't have rules on when which one should take precidence.

I'm going to called this the Human Paradox and I've just realized I've left off the one part that makes us more 'Human'. The concept of doing things for others. Self-sacrifice. I think we've taken this concept too far. The idea that one man might sacrifice himself to save others (or everyone) is as far as I'm concerned a really great idea for the lazy people to send stupid people out to die. It's become as entrentched in our 'How to be Human' teachings. I think self-sacrifice is fine if a horde of evil zombies is threating to eat the last surviving colony of humans. I don't think it's a good or justifiable idea for one human to surrender a part of themselves for another - for the sake of .

So the idea of curbing your emotions for the sake of your sister who hates to see you publically kiss your boyfriend (mine is awesome, so doesn't and if she does she can fuck off and die :p). Because it upsets her? Because that then upsets your mother? Or your own boyfriend? Or girlfriend, or itfriend. We have become far to intolerant of one anothers personal emotions and I believe ultimately that is a result of us not understanding ourselves first, and then making up rules to cover it up.

I know this is a long one, and everyone who reads this to the end will get a cookie. So where does that leave me and my world? Just as frustrated and irratated and deflated as before... kinda. At least now I know: We don't have rules for this kind of stuff, and that it is a good thing. And the rules that we do have, shouldn't apply because they're based on false precepts. I am me. Only one person can tell me what I want, what I don't want, and what I should want. Apparently thats: Steven Mulp of 54 Jerry Lane, Crovenfield, Maine, USA. It's me. Will that stop me from writing these blogs... nope sorry. Will that answer stop me from questioning everything I do? Nope. So what has it achieved? What is the payoff for these last couple hundred thousand words? I've learned that there should be no rules when it comes to emotional internal me states. Only theories of what I feel to be right and wrong. Those theories need to be interrogated in each circumstance, need to be maliable, need to be adaptable, and most importantly of all, need to be understand.

So here is to my next blog - the Theory of Guy, according to Guy, by Guy... for Guy. Dedicated to Guy. Preface, introduction, prologue, and preamble by Guy, with extracts from Guy. It will however contain - I hope - significant contributions from people not called Guy...

This weeks question then is - do you have theories for yourself and where did you theories come from?

Insight into Humans...

OK. Wow. A lot of responses both here and via FB which is a pity as I like to share all responses with readers. My blogs are after all an out-pouring of my mind, plus an in pouring of yours. And I do truly thank all the contributors who take time to respond. And all responses are read and thought about and reviewed, even if not mentioned by name.

Basically if I can sum up what has been sent through thus far:

1 - Compromise needs to happen on important things. These things need to be recognized by both parties as being important and therein lies the crux (recognition of important of others needs/desires/wants).

2 - Change is subtle and may not actually happen, but we seem to constantly strive for it. We should be aware of this and attempt to curb overt behavior (attempts to change partner) and merely act as support.

3 - I think too much. This may be a way of dissociation from reality, an attempt to ignore my emotions, or simply from the fact that I think too much. Other humans may not do this.

So where does all of this leave me? It's an interesting question. Let me be honest about where it leaves me:

For some reason, a reason I don't know, I find the idea of doing things for others fine, provided it doesn't interfere with my present desires. For example I don't mind dropping a gaming acquaintance off in JHB involving an hour of traffic, provided I didn't have alternative plans. And these plans seem to take up chunks of time, which are precious. I don't like spending more than about 40 minutes (less on some days) engaged in small talk or minor action. It irritates me to be so unproductive/non-creative. Do I suffer from ADD? I don't know. For me, small talk is so easy, so surface, that I get mentally bored. This boredom then translates into frustration and ultimately resentment of those I'm engaged in small talk with.

So those tenets/rules are really there to allow me a way of stepping out of boredom, legally. And I really don't know why I have such a hang up about having 'social rules' to live by. Sure my Grandmother and mother were obsessed with protocol and doing the right thing, but I have frequently rebelled against that. But not the simple ones. Not the time ones: Arrive at 11:30 for pre-lunch drinks. Leave at 13:30 or you overstay. Tea is a 1600. I like to know my time frames. Small talk should be governed by rules as well because otherwise you get stuck.

I don't know why. WHY WHY WHY WHY!

Am I such a selfish, self absorbed arsehole that I don't give a fig about others or their problems? That I only have time for myself, and expect others to give all their time to me with nothing in return? I don't think so. I listen, I try to help. But I don't want to have others dictating time to me.

So why is time so important. This was one thing my therapist and I couldn't resolve: Time to me is more valuable than anything else. Particularly 'me time'. It takes highest priority. Again I don't think this makes me self-absorbed. I expect everyone else to have a strong desire for 'me time' as well (only their time naturally). I can't understand people who don't seem to treasure it.

But what do I do with it? What is so precious about it? I play games, I muck-about. I do stuff. (I am always active and will never spend more than 10 minutes sitting doing nothing). What is so important about that? I feed my curiosity during 'me time'. I can do whatever I want to do. When I have others around me, I can't. My curiosity must remain in check as I devote my energies to that other person.

So why shouldn't I want to devote my energy to that person? Because I'm not interested in people? We all have the same issues - our hierarchy of needs. I am far more interested in learning about how NASA designed a space pen, or discovering what is around the next door in a computer game, or painting a Roman solider or reading a book. These are unexpected surprises, not cyclic worries and concerns. I get bored over my own problems, why should I be any more interested over someone else's?

In short I think because I get on with people so well, because I can listen to their talk, and respond and ask them questions, I never get into anything deeper. After all, how can you if the person you're talking to can't go deep, or has never been deeper? Or doesn't want to go deep. I share my most intimate of thoughts with people, strangers even, because I have realized none of us have anything to hide. Others however cannot. So they exist with a surface regallation (to regal in active sense) of their day to day 'safe' stories. I find this dull.

I realize though that we cannot always talk on this deep level. This is fine. So during those non-deep level moments why talk at all? Why waste time? And I know what you're thinking: Because people need time and surface conversations to get comfortable enough to swim in deeper water. Fine. Let them socialize and grind through the banal existence of humanity. I open up from word go, and that's what I expect from others. Don't do that, and I really don't have time to wait. Now that may be my real problem.

And here's another problem: I don't care. It didn't take a miracle for me to realize that if I tell you I once set my testicles on fire by accident during a hot-wax session you are not going to think anything more or anything less of me. In fact some of you may go out and get some candles tomorrow as it sounds kinky. Some of you might now avoid open flames. Others may smile, giggle, think - fuck Guy's completely nuts (half baked har har) and move on. Others may even nod sagely and remember back to their own little 'incident' of genital flambe.

My point is, if any of my friends stop being my friend because of what I did/do/think/act in private then they can fuck off. And if any of them revealed to me that they did odd things to themselves I wouldn't think twice of it. I'd be curious to know more, find out motives, details, possibly take notes for self use later. I'd devote more 'me time' to your story. I'm open, why can't the rest of the population be? Or at least the part of the population I meet?

Oh and Patrick, if you read this, here's your mention: I love you dearly as a friend, but it's pronounced ROOT... not ROWT. Damned Americans.

So 'me time'. It's a new concept that I need to explore further. It has ... implications. If I can learn to ... curb 'me time' time, it may give me more time for 'others time'. But thinking on what Hugo said - and I disagree about what he said about some individuals we know - sometimes we can't change who we are. And I suspect 'me time' may be one of those selfishly immutable internal LAWS that I will find very, very, hard to change.

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OK you can stop reading now but below is something that I have to add, as it links to 'me time' about drug takers and alcoholics.

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With the concept of 'me time' comes another important concept. 'Real time'. And this a complex idea so hang in there. When I spend time with others I like to hear the 'real stories' inside their heads. I don't want lies or illusions. Yes. I can hear the sighs and see the grins: I lie. I lie all the time to everyone. Deal with it. I only lie however for three reasons: 1 is to impress people for sake of appearing more competent, knowledgeable or understanding than I am. 2 is to entertain people, and 3 is to protect people from the cold hard truth. But this isn't about that. When I write these blogs, or talk about my own inner feelings those are all open, honest, bald truths (or as near a truth as I can get at the time). Because that is important to me: Those 'real' thoughts are what are interesting, the surface thoughts, the petty lies, are not. They are useless, time wasting bits of junk that should be forgotten.

So when I meet people and look for 'real time' spent I must trust that 'real' answers have been given. What this leads me to then is my deep seated and long held aversion for people who drink excessively over time (alcoholics) and drug users. They, by confession, experimentation, and self experience, do not present 'real' truths. They may present 'actual' truths. Told you it was tricky. A drunk man may confess he is madly in love with his pet poodle, and shags it every night. That's an 'actual' truth. But he is not cognizant of that 'actual' truth be shared to others. He's drunk. If he was sober and he said the same thing it means it is 'real' to him, and to his listener. Does that make sense? Someone on weed, or other heavier drugs, can espouse 'actual' truths but it isn't 'real' it isn't their naked vulnerable and highly self aware self telling the 'real'. It's a chemical that makes it come out. Not self emancipation.

But why do I want that? Why do I want only 'real' truths and not 'actual' truths? I don't know. They just seem worthy of my time. Anyway, that then is why I don't like people who are addicted to substances that alter their perceptions of the world and inhibit self motivated confessions. Just a thought.

Five Tenets worth...

As usual my wonderful friends have offered their words of wisdom. Yes it seems that I am hypocritical about my 5 rules. I make other rules, then break them, but stick to ones that serve me best. Everyone has urged me to re-examine those rules by which I'm so fixated and to see if I truly believe them or not.

Well for a while I wasn't sure how to do this exactly... oh excuse me I'm burning supper again. BRB.

Only burnt my tongue. Supper I'm sure will taste great, but without my tongue I'll never know. sigh. But I digress, back to the matter at hand:

These were my five basic points:

1 - I have always maintained that no boyfriend of mine will ever change me, and I shall not attempt to change them.
2 - I have always maintained that the art of a good relationship lies in being able to do different things seperately as well as together (couples).
3 - I am a magnificent manipulator (either through others not wanting to fight, not caring, or being manipulated)
4 - I have always maintained that should I have prior plans, no partner would ever supercede those plans.
5 - A 'scoring' system in a relationship is as far as I'm concerned the first warning bell.

Now lets break each one down and look at it.

1 - I have always maintained that no boyfriend of mine will ever change me, and I shall not attempt to change them.

Right, devils advocate - As humans we should learn and grow from one another. Others should inspire us, lead us to better places, and be there to allow us to stumble and start again. Sometimes a loved one may be hurting people or themselves and we need to step in and take action. We need to change their mindset. What if ones partner is a racist. Should one not try to change them? (this is pro people changing one another just by the by.) Can I think of any other good reasons to change someone? OK, time for the 'against'. If I am doing something that is harming another or myself (alcohol, heavy drugs, anger management issues) would it be changing me if my partner took me to rehab? I do not think so. It would be bringing me back to my old self, getting rid of the externally induced horror. What if I am racist? Should my partner constantly tell me it's wrong? Or only occasionally? Would I change as a result? Yes I would. But that's again EXTERNAL. It's how I perceive other humans.

How about religion? Should I try to change my partner to my religion so that he can be saved? Well we all know that was a cheap shot. I don't have a religion, and I wouldn't go out with someone who did. But what about someone who is a recluse. Should I try to change them? Try to get them to enjoy the world more? Go out, you'll see, it'll be fun? Now I know I say this to a few of my friends on a fairly regular basis. So perhaps I am a little hypocritical. I try to change them... to a way of thinking that I feel is best for them. And there is the crux of the matter I suppose.

What is best for them, as I see it. Thus I must admit others must be doing to me with the same intent. OK, so lets try this amendment:

1 - I shall not attempt to change how my boyfriend sees the world externally, but I shall try internal salvation...

Crap this doesn't really hold true. OK. So how about this: I won't try to change someones fundamental viewpoints? Fuck. That one goes to. Guilty. Right - how about this:

1 - No boyfriend of my may overtly or covertly attempt to alter ME without my approval.

There that reads...truer. Now why?

There are three things I do not like about myself:

A - My body. But I lost 3 kilos at gym and so am working on it, slowly.

B - My inability at self - control. I keep trying but give in to impulse (har har). OK so that's a big one.

C - My cowardness. I hate confrontation. I will do anything to avoid it. Lie, cheat, write letters... anything.

What I do pride myself on though is my conviction that what I hold dear is as true as I can get it, for now. I'm willing to learn, to adapt, and to change. But I suppose it has taken me so long to get to a place where I accept myself for what I am, to challenge what I am is to make less of my struggle to gain acceptance of the flawed self.

No doubt I have flaws. But I would just like a couple decades where I can learn how to be me, before I have to relearn how not to be the not-nice me. I don't need a reminder. So perhaps lets change that point number 1 again.

1 - I shall allow my boyfriend an intermittent, subtle attempt to change me, and will be more accepting of others and also intermittently attempt to change them.

Wow. That's a bit more grey isn't it? But it allows for Carmen's 1st rule of Hogwash. Rules are flexible and designed to be questioned. OK, so now that that is cleared up, I am happier with it. We are all going to try to change one another, but it shouldn't be a battle of wills, and it shouldn't be constant. Support is more important than dominion perhaps... god did I just say that?

shit the dinner. BRB

So burnt mince is on the menu. I believe in the olden days people purposefully burnt food to give it a crunchy... burnt taste. Viva le histori! I say.

So I guess a relationship must be some kind of compassionate acceptance of another. But with the caveat that one must be there to offer guidance, sometimes with a hammer, sometimes with a feather. Even if it seems a battle, it should always be treated as support, never attack.

Shit. Thanks friends. Another magical moment of self realization at how far I still need to get before I can call myself human. My alien overlords will be happy with this progress...

The 'We' syndrome

So I had my first experience of the 'We' syndrome last night. But where to begin? Well, let me establish a few things:

1 - I have always maintained that no boyfriend of mine will ever change me, and I shall not attempt to change them.
2 - I have always maintained that the art of a good relationship lies in being able to do different things seperately as well as together (couples).
3 - I am a magnificent manipulator (either through others not wanting to fight, not caring, or being manipulated)
4 - I have always maintained that should I have prior plans, no partner would ever supercede those plans.
5 - A 'scoring' system in a relationship is as far as I'm concerned the first warning bell.

So those are what I have clung too, and I think blogs past will testify to this. Those blogs past however were written as a single person, not someone who'd experienced a relationship. So now I am in a relationship, and as you guessed, have had to revisit some of those 5 tennets above.

I'm going to deal with option 2, 3, 4, and 5 first. Apollo told me yesterday that a good friend, in fact his closest friends were having a dinner party that evening. I had already made plans with another friend of mine (my flatmate) for dinner. Furthermore I didn't feel like going out, but rather wanted to stay indoors to work on a new project that had arrisen that day before.

So I enacted option 2: You go to dinner, I'll stay at home. In my opinion this seemed fine. But the 'we' card was played: I'm not going to dinner if you're not going to dinner because I want to be with you. This takes us into the realms of option 3 and 4, and possibly 5. My immidiate defense was that I didn't want to go because it (the prospect of dinner and meeting new people) was a bore. I meet new people all the time, and really just wanted a quiet evening.

Now as a master manipulator I became aware of Apollo's tactics quite early on. I'm not going to go into them, but needless to say I couldn't get out of going to dinner. I even predicted the manipulation to Apollo. You can't fox a fox as they say. What this then did was put me in violation of all my sacred laws.

2 was broken. 'We' is more important than 'I'.
3 although not broken had been played in the open (which violates the rules of manipulation).
4 withered. These friends at the dinner party were from Cape Town and would only be here for the night. How could I refuse with the 'We' and denying Apollo a visit with his good friends? (I shall revisit this later).
5 Although both of us deny that a scoring system is in place, it is so easy to fall into it. 'I' went to 'your' dinner so now 'you' will come to 'my' opera... This is dangerous. If just one point is dropped on either side, resentment can build.

So this takes me back to item 1.

Changing another person. I warned yesterday that if I did go to the dinner. If I allowed points 2,3,4, and 5 to slip it would set a precident. One which said: These rules can be broken with no consequence. I was wrong. The consequence is that I'm now blogging about these 'rules' that have been broken. What does it mean?

I like my rules, because they give me flexibility, and they also give me grounds for behaviour. I don't have a religious book to work from, and science doesn't touch the 'squishy human shit' emotional stuff. So I have no guides except for what I feel is right. But if what I feel is right, seems to fly in the face of everyone else (I've observed most couples don't observe my rules, except occationally or begrudgingly), should I attempt to change?

But change what? If my fundamental building blocks are wrong, should I now seek to change them? And if I do, do I replace them with something else? Some kind of co-dependence? Have I just discovered one of the deeper results of my parents divorce? A fundamental detachment of self from the 'we' syndrome? Am I avoiding becoming a 'we' because I'm afraid of what will happen if the 'we' collapses?

I cannot believe that.

If intrisically I feel that it's right for me to shag or be shagged by men which is as far as I'm concerned the most 'me' centered I get (ie. untainted by society norms/religions requirements/sexual stereotypes), then surely that feeling - that 'knowing' must serve as a base from which to judge my other feelings and convictions? After all, it's all I've got to go on, and all that I fundamentally know to be true (for a given value of true). So where does that leave me?

Believing that my 5 tenants are right. To do otherwise would be hypocritical. I might as well roll over and say that 'gay' was a phase of rebellion, and now I'll conform again with what the rest of the planet wants. Now if I believe my 5 tenants I have to rely on them being right. But what if they're wrong? And this I feel is the existential question: I think there for I am, but what if I what I think is wrong?

How can you challenge what you hold to be right? Careful exploration of those ideals perhaps. But I can't compare them with others because that's like asking me to compare my version of vermillion with someone elses (that's a shade of colour by the way). A million people can say to me - you must embrace the 'we'. If I don't understand it's point or how to do that because I don't feel it's real then how can I embrace it? But then I have pause for thought (which admittedly doesn't happen all the time) if I don't have a 'we' mentality, what do I have? An 'I' mentality? Is there no other middle-ground? An 'us' perhaps? I don't believe in an 'us' either. It's too restrictive. 'I' can't move forward because I'm waiting for 'us' to all be ready. God shackle me to a post an beat me, how frustrating.

But I think the real spike that got this whole thing spinning through my head was my flatmates comment: One of the things that grates him is how I change plans so quickly (and don't tell others [that was the subtext I took from the statement] and how that really frustrates planners [ie. the flatmate]). But I've always considered myself to be a planner. I like plans. But then again, I like plans that suite me. A plan that doesn't work for my own amusement or that is't a requirement for the planet to continue spinning (like work) don't hold much importantce. That is whole can of worms on it's own.

So how to solve my dilemma? Am I and 'I' person because I don't want to be a 'we' person in case the 'we' becomes an 'I' and I get hurt? Or am 'I' an 'I' person because that's how I'm wired (like my great aunt who is an 'I' person). And if I'm an 'I' person does that mean that my quest for a partner is now that much more difficult? Do I now have to say to the present Apollo that his 'we' and my 'I' don't see eye to eye? Or do I look for a complex synthesis of the two ideals? Except one in my opinion isn't an ideal but a prison?

This is all so complex. I then look at the words that I use in this blog, and since I don't edit what I write (as evidenced by the spelling/grammer/sentences) I see words like prison, and intrinstic, and cannot, and rules... These are very negative words. And here we all thought that I was nearing the end of my blogging as I was content. Ha!

I can almost feel myself dissociating with the conflicting emotions so that I can conduct this 'study' of human social interactions, but I know I must fight that. I must experience these feelings, hold on to them. Even that though, has a certain... detatchment for me. As an actor might 'get into character'. I often wonder if perhaps I am an an individualist embodied? Or do all artists suffer this? This desire to be creative because one can control that (an illusion if you've ever tried controlling how you draw) unlike a relationship which is bi-directional and not so controlable. Is this the torture that an artist goes through? Wanting a partner, but not wanting a partner's requirements (which are valid by the way)?

How do you handle your relationships? What are the rules? If any? Where does your guidance of self resign itself to the collective. Why do you want a partner and not just close friends? Are you a 'we' or an 'I'? And do you believe it?