good stuff

the rules we make

our under-evolved PFC is the place in our brain that gives us social control. it also makes up predictions and rules based on past experience. the PFC works with and against our primitive brain, particularly the amygdala, as it's function is fear-full and storing emotional memories. these two parts of the brain, in my understanding, work together to construct some of the important rules we make for ourselves.

these rules can be simple (ha!), e.g.: the coffee at L'Autre Cafe is always delicious.
       how might this rule come to be? you had a lovely trip to paris. the ambiance was unlike your experiences at starbucks. you had a tasty and sugary cup of joe and went on your way.
       now, that memory is special and you created a little rule that will probably never be broken. you will probably never have that rule put to the test. rest assured, it is safely tucked away.

but what if a rule is broken? what if some of our self constructed rules are untrue to the rest of the world. untrue to the laws and theories of math and physics? i suppose it doesn't matter as long as the self constructed rules don't permiss unethical behavior or put others in danger. but what if they do? what happens when the rule i have created for myself fails me? my under-evolved PFC doesn't know what to do with this. i recently had a few of my rules broken, torn down... and i don't particularly enjoy the rules that my brain is trying to make to replace them. unfortunately there has to be a rule in place regarding these things in my life.

i have tried to contextualize my rules by comparing them to other failed rules. i have previously written about a friend who has an addiction, here on my blog. he has fascinating rules regarding his life and the way he lives it. noticeably different rules than when we were young. his rules go directly against the set of rules i have regarding substance abuse, and for the most part life in general. to add: they don't seem to be working for anyone else but him. does it matter? maybe not. however, when you become a parent and make rules that are security rules, they do matter. it is the matter of safety, a biological and emotional desire to keep your offspring and therefore DNA alive and well. one of my recently broken rules explicitly failed my children. i failed my children by having a faulty rule in place and one of them had to endure trauma because of it.

and i feel fucking terrible.

dasein as a douchcopter

Here is a short list of things that I think would be difficult but not impossible to do:

1. Solving the the Riemann Hypothesis.
2. Talking a socially conservative politician into believing my uterus belongs to me and not god.
3. Finding a solution to the world's starvation problems.
4. Running an Ultramarathon.
5. Getting through the Rig Veda.
6. Winning a wit contest opposing The Oatmeal.
7. Swimming across the English Channel.
8. Becoming fluent in Greenlandic Norse.
9. Playing an instrument as fluidly as Bela Fleck.

Here is an even shorter list of things that would be quite easy to accomplish:

1. Not being an asshole all of the time.

The latter of the two short lists seems a little unreasonable to some, but to me and my relative existence it is completely obtainable state of not-being. Yet for some people it appears they have no other state of being but a douchecopter. I am not really sure if it is an ego problem (given to you buy your parent/s), or if people that are consta-assholes are suffering from some mood disorder, but it is rather unpleasant.

husserl and heidegger sects

Husserl and Heidegger’s comprehension of phenomenology reminds me of schisms that occur in the great religions. buddhism was born from an elder hindu and accepted a few basic presumptions and rejected other, high modes of abstracted realities in particular. for Husserl, phenomenology is based on intentionality of the conscious. he adopted Descartes' philosophy and i get the feeling that Heidegger outright rejects Descartes in his methodology. Husserl begins his phenomenological journey with the reduction of living world; while also accepting the natural attitude, of which all science is found. he says that by using the epoche you are keep opinion and misperception clear from understanding. Heidegger does not agree. Heidegger’s investigations were not about objects whatsoever, he intended to look at how the conscious encounters objects. Heidegger’s magnum opus is almost the continuation of Husserl’s inquiry into that which is intentional and cogitio. cogitio then becomes Dasein to Heidegger:  clearer distinction into a fundamental constitution of existence.

although, i read Husserl’s adaptation of the natural attitude as non-cartisian. he poses the question: is the life world the same as the natural attitude? the Lebenswelt is the horizon for which all things occur. the horizon is the a priori, fundamental round work for the natural attitude. the natural attitude is grounds for empirical observations, how things present themselves in profiles to the conscious. the collection of observable data is then correlated and sciences are born. the Lebenswelt is the horizon for which all things occur and the natural attitude is an occurring thing within consciousness. it cannot be a part of the natural attitude because it is not an occurrence, rather a framework for understanding all that is in existence.

to Heidegger, formal structure begins with what is being sought to be known. one must already be aware at least of the existence of the information being sought. Heidegger states that every inquiry looks at both the question and the object itself. the object stems from the real world but the question at hand is from the mind. Heidegger talks about this in his preliminary introduction into the investigation of Being and Time. 

a brief compilation of beliefs

the beginning of a hopefully extensive compilation of belief systems briefly compilation explained:

A: "I view god as the sum of all living things, both physical and non physical. No separateness. I think god existed and was perfect and the only way to become more perfect was to understand why it was perfect in the first place, and the only way to do that was to break into smaller non perfect pieces of consciousness that strove to return to their original state of perfect. In that way there is no 'god' just the sum of all conscious experience."

 L (paraphrased): "I believe that JC existed and had these values that I think we should live by [love, understanding, compassion, caring for those less fortunate] When and if I meet my maker, I want to be able to say, 'I lived by these values regardless of JC's status of god or not." Also, "spreading love, understanding and helping people that actually need help is so much more important than misusing energy to "help" gay people."

tolerance is for bad socks not people

i read this article on the integrated ethnic segregation occurring in bosnia. please read if you're interested in the area or not, it is informative and to me is indicative of the history repeating itself in the area.


a couple songs that you should take a listen to...
I Will Follow You Into the Dark
Imagine (Neil Young style) 

guest blog: j. alfred potter

I've known Ruby since she was in middle school in Hammond, Indiana. While we lost contact after she moved to the Colorado area, the wonderful world of Facebook allowed us to get back into contact. When she approached me about being a guest on her blog, I was floored. I have always had the utmost respect for her and after reading her weblog, I knew this was an opportunity I had to leap at.


Before I dive into the latest edition of "The Ramblings of the Deranged" (which is something I call all my writings), I feel that it's pertinent to give a little background information about myself. I am twenty eight years old and living in New Orleans, Louisiana. I finished high school at a prestigious all boys' Catholic School where I was the first physically disabled student to graduate from there in their 127 year history. I have a strong background in football equipment maintenance and repair. I attended the University of Louisiana at Lafayette for sports' management and worked with the Ragin' Cajun football team during the 2003 season as the first physically disabled equipment manager. I am an avid writer and aspiring stand-up comedian.


As I have stated twice in this already short entry, I am physically disabled. I have a disease called spina bifida occluta It's a degenerative condition of the spine that has severe neurological, orthopedic, and urological problems associated with it. Sad fact of the matter is, I have been told several times in my life that I don't have much time. I do my best to pack in as much awesomeness into the time, and that's how I live. 


I always tell people I have one major rule. “Don’t ever call me a cripple”. Simple enough right?

Wrong.
First off, to explain why I have this rule, you must know what the word means to me. But even before I can do that, one must know the literal definition of the word cripple. The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines the term as the following:

1. a sometimes offensive : a lame or partially disabled person or animal
   b :  one that is disabled or deficient in a specified manner <a social cripple>
2. Something flawed or imperfect.

This word comes from the Middle English cripel, which in turn is from the Old English crypel. This is akin to the Old English wordcrēopan, which means to creep. This word first made it’s way into the English vernacular just before the 12th century.


Today this word carries a heavy connotation-especially for the disabled. People traditionally hear the word and think of those disabled that do nothing for themselves and wallow in their own self pity. The “cripple” is mean and vindictive and blames the world for their disability. They’re content with being miserable. They view their condition as a curse that defines them. They hate themselves and those around them because they feel they’re trapped.


That’s why I hate the word. I have worked hard to deal with my disability to the best of my abilities and move beyond them. Sure, I probably don’t deal with them as best as someone else with the disability would, but there is no panacea when it comes to the day-to-day physical and psychological trials and tribulations of debilitating diseases.


I used to think that I wasn’t that. I thought I was already well adjusted for someone with spina bifida occulta. I am honestly now thinking that I am wrong. I am very angry with the world. The truth is, I hate everyone who isn’t disabled.


If you all only knew. If you only knew what it was like to watch as your life slip away from you, both literally and figuratively, in a way that you cannot stop because of things that have nothing to do with choices you have made or actions you have taken. It makes me mad. Mad with a bitter rage that could fuel the sun.


I pity myself all the time. I watch a football game and realise my body can’t do what those men are doing on the field but my mind tells me it can. That’s the gods' greatest trick-make someone crave something more than anything, get them to learn every possible thing about it they can, allow them to get close enough to take it, but keep it just out of reach, forever. Live like that and try not to feel sorry for yourself.


Writing this, I think about more than just this. We each have things we’re completely angry about. We all have things in or about our lives we absolutely hate. It’s true of all of us. If you say differently about yourself, you’re not very well adjusted at all-or you’re Jesus Christ. We all pity ourselves.


That said, we’re all cripples. Each and every one of us are. There’s nothing special about any of us.


I will still hate the word and it’s connotation. I still won’t tolerate it when people call me a cripple, but now that I know that each one of us are cripples, it won’t sting as much.


Or maybe I am just talking out my rear. Either way, it’s been said.

Comedy is very important to me. It's become how I deal with the trials and tribulations of my life. I firmly believe that we all have things that make us uncomfortable, sad, afraid, lonely, and less than human. If we take those things and steadily laugh at them, they no longer have the power to hurt us.

So I get billed as a comedian, which isn’t true. I am more of a song and dance man. If you could see me or have actually seen my act, you’d know why that joke is funny.

I am actually sad. I was watching television the other night and learned that video killed the radio star. This is made especially sad because a DJ could have saved her life. To be fair, I don’t know why I am sad about it. You see, she didn’t dance, and if you don’t dance; you’re no friend of mine.

Speaking of friends, my friends and I live in our house—in the middle of our street. One of my friends walked five hundred miles. Then he walked five hundred more to be the man to cum on Eileen. He knows that girls just want to have fun.

You know what girls don’t want? They don’t want to be disabled.

Now I know that no one wants to be disabled, really. I mean, why would someone? There aren’t many perks…

Actually my friend, there are. We can cut in line at Disney World for rides that we cannot go on and enjoy. We get the bigger stall in the public bathrooms that someone is either always using or has left a mess. We get that blue parking space that costs the rest of you jerks four hundred bucks to use. We can call each other “cripple”, much like black people can call each other the “n-bomb”. Get used to it.

I get applause when I walk down the street. Just the other day I was walking down Frenchman Street in New Orleans and was showered with praise by this really nice black lady. “You go sweetheart!” “Yeah! Look at you going wit yo’ bad self!” I got the best self-esteem boost one could possibly get. You see people expect you to just walk down the street. Me? Crap, I get a standing ovation like I am Jeff Dunham playing to an audience full of Down's Syndrome kids from rural Mississippi while they’re trying to eat the invisible shoulder cookie. I swear getting applauded for doing stuff that I am supposed to do is like having a government job.

Now some of you don’t want to laugh at this concept or even at the disabled. Screw you; the disabled are funny as hell. You try to imagine Michael J. Fox playing “Jenga” or Stephen Hawking singing Rio by Duran Duran. Now yes, Fox playing “Jenga” would leave the playing area looking like Haiti.

Now I have offended you. I know it. You probably liked me more when I was tastelessly stringing together poppy songs from the 80s. Eat it. I will not be politically correct. Politically correct language has ruined the First Amendment of the Constitution of the United States. We cannot say that they’re fat anymore; now they’re “geometrically challenged”. They’re not “faggots”, they’re “male fellatio enthusiasts”. He’s not a “janitor”, he’s a “floor technician”.

I am not disabled, I am “alternatively engineered”. Seriously folks. Now I am badly built and designed bridge, much like the Huey P. Long Bridge of the New Orleans area, that was built by the lowest common denominator, also much like the Huey P. bridge. Seriously, the term “alternatively engineered” brings up memories of bad episodes of The Six Million Dollar Man, excuse the redundancy. The new show opener could be “we can build him slower, less efficiently, and with missing parts”. I swear because of my over sensitive politically liberal brethren, I now feel like my parent’s bought me from a Swedish “build a baby” company.

Honestly, don’t be politically correct. PC language is more dangerous than a Florida voting booth (there’s a callback to 2001 for you).

I thank you for taking the time to read my guest entry in Mrs. Matheny's blog. If you wish to contact me you can e-mail me at jap1879.jap@gmail.com, contact me at Facebook by searching "J. Alfred Potter", looking up "roguestoryteller" on YouTube, or following me on Twitter at @Rogue_Bard.


Thank you kindly. 


Semper Servus,


J. Alfred Potter