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Ugly Shoes

Getting caught unprepared is always a risk when you have ADHD.

Even in high school, I was lucky to be asked to speak to a crowd during events, at times. This one day, I had a soccer game before the big assembly night at my school. Well, I had remembered most of the things that I needed to remember for that day – I had my soccer uniform, I had my suit.

I only forgot my dress shoes.

It’s possible that I would have been able to get away with wearing soccer cleats with my suit, while I went up front to speak at the assembly, were it not also the case that it was held in the gymnasium, and that the wooden floor – and the risers that the choir was standing on (I was also in the choir) – didn’t amplify all the click-clacks I made when I walked.

Okay, so that time, it didn’t work out so well.

I did get a little mantra for myself from that experience, though, which has actually helped me throughout the years when I have performed or spoken in front of a crowd.

If you can keep people’s attention on your face, no one will know that you have ugly shoes.

Any performance, any speech, has to draw people in. It has to be engaging, and even entertaining. It has to tug on their curiousity, their minds, their hearts, their spirits.

So it may help, when you are performing, to pretend that you are wearing ugly shoes.

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Story of a Book Never Read

About 40 years ago, I learned of or watched a documentary about the writing of a book I have never read, and it has stuck with me.

The book in question was Malcolm Lowry’s “Under The Volcano.” I did a bit more research now, to confirm the details. Lowry, a brilliant writer and serious alcoholic, began writing the book in 1936. He lost his manuscripts several times, and it was destroyed by fire at least twice, mainly due to dubious decisions Lowry made and consequences that followed.

What amazes and encourages me is that Lowry never gave up. Under The Volcano was finally published in 1947, more than a decade after he began writing it. Publishing the book did not substantially change Lowry’s life – he still died in squalor, under questionable circumstances. However, that book, which emerged from his mind and his own living hell, had been important enough to him that he saw it through, despite his many setbacks.

The story of Lowry writing and getting his book published matters more to me than the book itself.

I cannot compare myself to Lowry, neither in circumstances nor in giftedness. The story of the writing of his book, however, encourages me to also not give up.

I have been very lucky, or blessed, in many ways. I’m very happy with so much of what my life experience has been. What does gnaw at me, however, is that I, too, have unfinished projects that have occupied my mind for many years. It took far too long for me to recognize the significance of my ADHD on my work habits, and to find ways of successfully and efficiently completing important tasks. I feel like I’m ready to take the next steps, now. I’m almost 60 years old now, and every time it seems that there’s opportunity on the horizon to take the time to complete the projects that I have begun and worked on in discrete pieces, the timeline gets pushed back. We have to move, or health issues arise, or other unexpected events require a reshuffling of priorities.

It is possible that I may never finish these projects that I have set out to do. There are more important things to attend to than my books or my music. However, I take solace and encouragement from the fact that Malcolm Lowry faced greater obstacles than I, and went through more hardship than I ever have, and he kept returning to the manuscript that was eventually published, and which became his masterpiece. On some level, Lowry must have felt that his persistence and determination was worthwhile. Given the opportunity, I hope to do the same.

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Commentary For A Future Olympic Sport

“Bill Erfsnog and Teresa Fillypogget here, covering the very first Olympic Epiglottal Shmergmakking.”

Bill; “Teresa, ES has been growing in popularity all around the world over the past 2 and a quarter years, and there’s no doubt of the vestigiousness of these athletes.”

Teresa; “Kudos to the Olympic committee, Bill, for double-strafing the compompom and showing that the modern Olympics is relevant to what’s really happening around the globe.”

Bill: “Teresa, you’ve perped the elliglabbit there. Excammating the poofalfabbit has become mainstream, and everyone knows exactly what it means to eeplehaggit the plampf.”

Teresa: “Our first competitors are stanleyking to the crapplepottom now, awaiting the starting pifflecup.”

Bill: “And there they go! Oooh what a glorious shnerpenpeef out of the epselblommet from Flackselstan! How can anyone else respond to that?”

Teresa: “The style points there could oomple the kleekanbassen, for sure! But wait? Ohh, we’re coming up to the poffalfabbit, and there’s a tight race to the plampf….”

Bill: “They’ve Excammated the poofalfabbit flawlessly… Oh no! Peevilken has frottercised. Now it’s a 3 shneepen epfilly!”

Teresa: “All 3 have negurciated the Plampf, but only Flackselstan has done a full eeplehaggit…”

Bill: “Flackselstan replaggelates Purfen and Oobletrausen simultaneously! That will be a DQ for Flackselstan.”

Teresa: “Purfen and Oobletrausen are both down… the winner will be whichever one tumbles and slides through the sickeepenickee first… and it’s… Oobletrausen!”

Bill: “Medics and medals arrive at the bottom of the Berfian together. There’s Oobletrausen in a stretcher is at the top of the podium. For the silver, there’s Purfen in their stretcher. And Peevilken is limping half-merkenshnooped to the bronze.”

Teresa: “It’s a repeat of the World Championship Epiglottal Shmergmakking, and the powerhouse represented by Oobletrausen retains their top status.”

Bill: “That’s all from Ikselboog. Back to you, Purvy!”
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Worship of Power

On Worship of Power
Fascists do everything with a cudgel, and call it efficiency.

If their goal is to lower costs, they will decrease demand and raise supply.

They decrease demand by defining their political opponents, or at least by creating targets that are feared or misunderstood by a majority of their supporters. They then reduce the number of their opponents or targets, by criminalizing them or deporting them or outright killing them.

This means that, eventually, there is more land available for their supporters, and more housing, etc., because they have gotten rid of the occupants. So one group benefits from the destruction of another.
They increase supply – for themselves – by force, as well. They reduce the amount of public space, owned by the many – confiscating public parks. They become colonizers, simply taking over land and countries at their whim, starting wherever they perceive either the greatest possibility of support or the easiest victory over perceived weakness.

When fascists use words concerning justice or truth, those words are mere rationalization for the application of brute force on a group or in a place where they hope to achieve support from whatever combination of self-serving temporary alliances they need to achieve their particular immediate goals.
Fascists have little to no concern for truth, justice, human rights, or love, as ideas. Their primary concern is power for themselves. They believe that they have power as some kind of divine right or fate, and that they deserve this power. They believe in ‘power of the fittest’, and define themselves as the fittest, by virtue of their achieving power. They are anti-democratic and anti-human-rights, because democracy plus human rights implies equality, and they believe in their having power and in maintaining it, no matter how they get it. They do not believe in equality, of opportunity or of anything else.

They are certainly opposed to sharing resources in any way, regardless of cost to a society.

For them, there is no intellect of value except as applied toward their goals, and no beauty except as a prize.

Our society is moving toward fascism. It’s a vulgar and brutal paradigm. We need to see that.

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New Favourite Hockey Player

It was a response to an interview question that made goalie Devin Cooley, of the Calgary Flames, my new favourite hockey player.

The query wasn’t even all that unusual. How does the backup goalie stay calm in net, during the game?

Cooley’s response was “…Nothing matters. Nobody cares. We’re all gonna die.’ I just say that over and over and over again so that way, I don’t get too excited.”

I don’t know whether Cooley has ever studied philosophy, but that’s a mix of nihilism and existentialism, put to service in sports psychology.

It’s not even that I agree with Cooley, on a strictly philosophical level – except for the “we’re all gonna die” bit, which is not especially controversial.

Nihilists would say “nothing matters,” which they would relate to the fact that “we’re all gonna die.” That’s really not a headspace that I find especially useful in the long term, but it’s a headspace most of us occupy for a while. I’m not interested in debating the validity of that, at the moment.

Existentialists would say “nothing matters – except the moment in which we’re living right now.” It is the fact that we’re all going to die that lends a sense of urgency to the moment; like all commodities, time is limited, and therefore is valuable – is, in fact, the most valuable commodity. Existentialists believe that we as individuals all have to define our own sense of meaning.

Christian existentialists (yes, these exist,) would define eternal value as a combination of meaningful moments that are strung together across time; that it’s not time itself that matters, but time redefined as moments of meaning. And meaning, they might contend (depending on who you’re talking to), is a matter of moments of authentic human relationship – so there’s a social reality there as well. So it’s certainly not – for them – a situation wrapped up in “nobody cares.”

Anyway, although as an overall philosophy to live by, I have some qualms about Cooley’s response – I think it’s a pretty awesome response. Because that, as a way to calm yourself down in a tough situation, totally encapsulates a person’s position. Hockey is a sport – it has meaning for those who play and those who enjoy it, but it is not all life. A goaltender is important in the context of a hockey game, but not more important than the team or more important than everything else that is going on in the world. And, when the game is over, life goes on… until it doesn’t. So, Cooley’s response to pressure, as a succinct personal mantra to re-establish perspective in moments when all eyes are on one millisecond’s interplay that represents victory or defeat – that’s pretty awesome, in my books.

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