but it didn't impress the girl

Getting the feeling Leanne wasn't too impressed with my little argument yesterday. Not the fact of it, the content. She hasn't come right out and said anything, but I'm getting a pretty clear vibe. Maybe I should have been warned by the archery thing, but it never occurred to me to see archery as a form of violence. I mean it's ... well, you know ... Robin Hood and his merry men; it's medieval.

Yeah, I know, kinda naive of me. I guess I was so taken with the whole meditation thing; I mean that's how it was for me. And it's romantic, isn't it? Not in the hearts-&-flowers sense; in the knight-doing-heroic-deeds sense. I assumed it was the romantic aspect that attracted her.

I over-analyze things, don't I? What does it matter why she was attracted to archery, and if she maybe disagrees with me on the war against terrorism? I mean, it's not as if I'm really that black-&-white myself; it's just I have this complicated relationship with violence.

But the point is, we're just going out, right? We're not talking about a lifetime commitment here. So, live and let live, right?

Humans, eh?

I got into a political argument today. If there's one thing I avoid, it's talking politics. Or religion. Or arguing with a bigot.

Okay, they're all the same thing really. What I mean is, I avoid getting into an argument with one of those blinkered, I-am-the-follower-of-the-one-true-way (religious, political, fanatical way of seeing the world, eg all whites are God's creation and morally physically intellectually superior -- never mind that people who think like that are usually not superior to anyone ... sorry, was I ranting?)

Anyway, I guess I didn't want to back down in front of Leanne, because the guy was really determined to have it out, and, as I say, usually I'd gracefully weasel out of it and disappear, but this time ...

You know that feeling you have when you're beating your head against a brick wall? It was like that. I'd give a reasoned, rational argument; he'd tell me it was war. I mean that was his answer to everything. Everything's justified because it's war. Granted war's hell, yet I seem to recall some people deciding that war doesn't justify doing some things. I thought that was what the Geneva Convention was about (although part of me says that's just turning war into a game, with rules, and maybe if we didn't pretend it was a game, people would see how horrible it was and wouldn't do it anymore. Of course the problem with that argument is that most people don't want war; it's not going to stop until we get leaders who don't want war. Leaders who actually empathize with the "little people" - ie anyone outside the magic circle. And of course, we need that to happen on both sides).

Sorry. I am ranting. I guess I'm still worked up from this afternoon. It was really frustrating, y'know? Oh why can't people be rational? (and kind and generous and never hurt anyone ... Hah!).

I love the human race.

an ancient haiku

The world of dew
Is a world of dew, and yet,
And yet

It's by an 18th century Japanese poet called Issa. It's always ... resonated with me. I mean, I've tried the Buddhist nothing-matters, the-world-is-an-illusion, thing. It's one way of dealing with the nastiness of the world, isn't it? So I've tried it. You can do it if you're sitting alone, spaced out. But as soon as you interact with the world ...

I guess if you meditate for years and years, if you're one of those Buddhist monks, maybe you can do it then. But, like Issa said (after the death of his last surviving child),
And yet,
And yet

is this spooky or what?

Cue X-files music; we're talking major spooky here. I keep thinking this has got to be a joke. Well, I don't know if it is or not, but there it is in breaking news: scientists have succeeded in creating "zombie" dogs. Seriously.

The dogs were clinically dead. The scientists sucked them of blood (okay, emotive verb there; I'm sure machines were involved), then replaced the blood with some sort of salt solution, then gave them an electric shock (am I the only one seeing Frankenstein raising his arms to the stormy heavens, lightning flashing down? I don't think so.). Three hours after being dead, the dogs were "perfectly normal". So, zombie maybe a misnomer there; on the other hand, brought back to life after being seriously dead ...

Also ... perfectly normal? We might be back on that what-is-normal kick.

They reckon they'll be ready to try it on humans within a year. Betcha there's going to be some fallout they're not bargaining on though. I mean, if you believe in a soul, and most Americans do by all accounts, what happens to it in a situation like this?

That's where the zombie thing comes in, doesn't it? Or am I getting confused with vampires? I guess none of them have souls. And Frankenstein's monster, that whole created-life thing -- I guess that's where the monster bit comes from; because he had no soul (Man can create life, but only God can create a soul; I guess that's the argument).

Well, I don't care what anyone says; I believe werewolves have souls! And ghosts. And dogs. And trees.

Or noone of us do. One of those.

trust only those you can make yawn

I was reading an interview with Temple Grandin today. It was in a dog magazine (hey, I'm pre-Vet; I'm allowed). If you haven't heard of her, Temple Grandin is autistic. She's made a name for herself by being successful despite that. She's got a PhD; she's an associate professor; she's written books. The books are the main reason for her fame, because most autistic people can't communicate very well. Most of what we know or think we know about autistic people comes from observation and guessing. But here she comes along, and she can tell us exactly what it's like to be autistic.

I haven't read her books, though I might now. I have read a recent bestselling novel where the character who tells the story is autistic -- The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime -- which was terrific. It's quite a slim story, about a dog that someone has killed, and the "hero" of our story -- a 15 year old autistic boy -- finds the dog, and decides to try and find out who did it. The point of the story is really the whole getting into the head of this autistic boy, seeing what's going on around him and understanding it when he doesn't. The author isn't autistic, so I don't suppose he really knows, but it's an impressive feat of imagination. And, if you think about it, interesting in that the author is doing exactly what autistic people can't do, that is, putting himself in someone else's head.

Reading about the way Dr Grandin thinks (in pictures not in words), I was reminded of the way my brother thinks. Not that he's autistic! Quite the opposite, actually. You see autistic people have no empathy. Well, that's how I understand it; I'm no psychologist! But from what I've read, they seem to think the one of the problems with autism is that they have no "Theory of Mind", which basically is what we use when we put ourselves in someone else's shoes.

Actually, I don't think there's any either/or about this. Autistic people might be at one end of the spectrum, but there's plenty of "normal" people who would fail an empathy test. Which is interesting, because the academics say that's what's special about humans, that they have this "Theory of Mind"), and they do experiments with other primates, and very small children, to try and find out when it arises.

I think it would be more to the point to look at all the successful men (and yeah, I'm being sexist here, cos I think this is more a male failing) and see how many of them would qualify (not as being autistic; as failing to have a Theory of Mind). And then we should make it a requirement of public office that anyone have to demonstrate a "good" Theory of Mind!

I just remembered a test, that anyone can do. This was probably offered a little tongue in cheek by researchers, but you know how contagious yawning is? It's been suggested that how responsive you are to other people yawning is a good indicator of how well-developed your Theory of Mind is. So all we have to do is gather all the politicians together and yawn at them!

Who wants a leader who isn't affected by other people, right?

worn out laughing

Just watched a couple of movies. They were showing back to back -- old movies, by Mel Brooks'. He walks a fine line, Mel Brooks, but most comedians do. One man's humor is another man's ... I don't know, blank stare? Some of Mel's movies I could take or leave, but I have to say, when he's on form, he's side-splitting. These two are his best, I reckon (okay, I haven't seen all his movies, but ...). Blazing Saddles and Young Frankenstein. There's this part in Blazing Saddles, when the black sheriff is confronted by a mob and he whips out his gun and holds it to his own head and says, "Don't move, or the nigger gets it!" And this holds them, while he argues with himself, then drags himself away (using himself as a hostage).

I know. You can't describe a joke. But take my word for it; it's hilarious.

It's a long time since I laughed so much. Actually I don't think I've ever laughed so much. Maybe it wasn't just the movies.

I'm worn out. I think I'll crash. Amazing how exhausting 3 hours of laughing is!

psycho-babble rules

There was a survey reported earlier this month -- you maybe heard about it; it got a certain amount of media play, and fair enough too. The survey claimed that about half of all Americans would at some time suffer from a mental disorder (okay, no anti-American jokes, please). I've missed the critical part: according to the the psychiatric bible, the DSM-IV.

So what does that mean, exactly? That the DSM-IV is a load of crap? (Don't get me started on psycho-babble). That America is a mentally deranged society? (Well ...) . That modern society is hell? (let's all go back to hunting our own food; and who needs to live past 30 anyway?)

Maybe it means "mental disorders" are normal. I'm normal; you're weird; he's mad as a hatter -- isn't that how it goes?

Well, I'm not afraid to say I'm not normal. What is that, "normal"? And if hardly anyone's normal, who decides what's normal? I reckon every generation since the Sumerians has thought the younger generation were all crazy, or confused, or dangerous.

So what have we got? Well, "lifetime prevalence estimates" (whatever they are) were 46.4% for any disorder, 28.8% for anxiety disorders, 20.8% for mood disorders, 24.8% for impulse control disorders, and 14.6% for substance use disorders. I'm guessing that means your chance of getting an anxiety disorder sometime in your life is around 30%.

The most prevalent lifetime disorders were major depressive disorder (16.6%), alcohol abuse (13.25), specific phobia (12.5%), and social phobia (12.1%). So, like, if you're phobic about spiders or meeting people, there you are, you've got a mental disorder.

Or children that have "separation anxiety" (what, they don't like being dumped in care?), they've got a mental disorder.

Actually, when you think about it, it's a wonder the rates of mental disorder aren't a lot higher! Do you know anyone who hasn't got a phobia, been anxious, depressed, used alcohol or drugs to excess, had trouble controlling their temper ...

I'm not trying to downplay these problems; I'm as screwed-up as the next guy (probably more). But don't you think it creates a whole anxiety in itself, when you make these problems out to be worse that they are? Not to mention the overstating kinda puts down serious mental disorders. I can't help feeling they're just wanting to increase their client base! (did I mention I have this phobia about "mental health professionals"?)

A zen moment

Well, I did something new today! I guess that's one of the high points (and low points) of a new relationship. You do things you wouldn't usually do. This one worked out. Really well, actually.

I didn't even realize people still did this stuff. Okay, I suppose I must have heard about competitions, or something, but it never registered. I just thought ... kids playing cowboys and Indians, I guess. I know, not politically correct. I suppose kids today play elves and evil wizards. I understand Legolas caused a big jump in interest in the sport.

Okay, you must have guessed what I'm talking about now. Archery. Yeah, grown men and women standing around with bows, shooting arrows. I have to say, it's actually really really cool!

It's weird, because when ... my new significant other (heavy irony here; I hate this expression. Anyway, I don't think we've been going out long enough to be SOs) said she was into archery, I was ... a little startled. No, not because she's a girl, which was what she thought, too. I just didn't know anyone was into archery. Anyone grown, that is.

But I was wrong (he said magnanimously). I admit it freely. Standing there, pulling back this bowstring (and yeah, a lot harder than it looks, particularly when your role model is that Lord of the Rings super-archer elf), you feel ... cool. And the arrow thunks into the target, and you start to get this obsession about getting it into the bull, and you stand there, doing it over and over again, and when your girlfriend, who dragged you down there, finally manages to pull you away, you realize your arm's falling off, and a couple of hours have passed, and you have no idea where they've gone. The Zen of archery.

Must do it again.

I met a girl

Slipped away from me again, huh? Not so long, though. And this time I've got a better excuse. I met a girl!

Okay, I meet plenty of girls. I even talk to them. Actually, if you met me, you'd probably assume I was out dating every night.

Maybe not. But I do get on well with girls. And guys. I've kinda made a career out of getting on with people. And what's wrong with that? Nothing wrong with not loading all your griefs on other people. You don't have to invite everyone into your head. And I'm not a misogynist like brother Mike; I really do like people. Even if I don't trust them, particularly.

Anyway, back to the point. This girl. She's ... Okay, nothing more boring than someone going on about someone else you don't know. Like being forced to watch someone's holiday video. Let's just say, I met someone. I'm spending a lot of time with her. I'm ... feeling happy. What would that be? Pleasure, Gratification, and Positive emotion about the future, I guess (see my earlier blog entry on happiness).

I don't mean long-term future. It's just ... I'm a one-day-at-a-time kind of guy (emotionally, I mean; I've got my career pretty much mapped out). So it's exciting, and scary, to have this ... I'm-looking-forward-to-next-Tuesday-cos-we're-going-to-(go rollerblading/picnic/go to the movies/whatever) ... feeling. There's this ... subliminal buzz. You know what I mean?

I don't know whether I'm falling in love, or just enjoying the possibility of falling in love. But I'm gonna take my brother's advice and not think it into the ground. Just enjoy it, for however long it lasts.

positive things about humans

Okay, I promised I'd find something positive to say about my species.

Well, there are a lot of people I like, I don't want to make myself out some sort of misogynist. It's just the whole species thing I guess. As a species, what's to like?

Wow, this is a tough one.

Yeah, I'm heavily biased in favor of non-humans.

There is something, now I come to think of it. We do things knowingly. I mean, that's the really terrible thing about humans, but it's also the amazing, wonderful thing, isn't it? That they do good things, things they themselves will never benefit from, things for a future they know they'll never see. They know they'll die, and they do those things anyway. To help people they'll never know.

I'm not talking about people acting to protect their own bloodline, and I'm not talking about people who act to protect their own future - the one they think they'll have after death. Nothing noble about doing good because you think it'll earn you brownie points.

Maybe I'm wrong, maybe everyone doing good is doing it for selfish reasons, but I don't think so. And those are the people who justify the human race.