The astronomers say that on April 25th, the moon and the planets will align to smile upon us.

There's something that used to be important to me about that date, and now I can't remember what it was. Regardless, it will be a pretty cool thing to see.

How I feel about Palestinians now

 

To Hamas, other terrorists like them, all Islamists and Jihadis, and those who support them.

"Among stupid people, watch for a chance to leave." -- Eccl 27:12

 

Wow, what a performance. Poor Fiona. She's had to deal with a lot in her life, and she deserved better.

Speaking of which, I recently unintentionally became involved a conversation in which people were talking about rape as if it were funny, and making jokes about it. I'm a pretty nice and easy-going guy these days, but I just couldn't let that go. And I want to repeat what I said to them here for anyone else who might see it, and is either an idiot who thinks it's funny, or a deviant who thinks it's alright, or a monster who actually does it: You think this is funny. Or ok. Hopefully it's because you're 14 and haven't learned to act like a person yet. If not, you're something worse: a sub-human; an orc; a morlock; a troglodyte. You're making the world worse, and it would be a better place without you and everyone like you.

Thinking of recent events in Israel. And Fiona. And others.

 

Handel: Messiah | Voces8 and Academy of Ancient Music

This is perfect. How often in your life do you get to say that without qualification, equivocation, or hesitation? I don't recall ever having experienced complete perfection before. Well, once...but let's not go there.

I hardly ever listen to classical music anymore. Or to any really great music. I mostly avoid things that evoke deep emotion. 

I'm walking on ice, and underneath, there's an ocean of sadness and pain. And it's fine: I like the cold. I'm okay. Just, I don't want to drown down there, because I almost did. It's not thin ice: it will support my weight. But there are thin spots, and I know where they are, and avoid them. Mostly.

I'll be a wreck for a week, or a month, now. But it was worth it.

I have decided that I identify as a king. 

I've always felt like a king inside, but an intolerant democratic society has forced me to repress it, and now I'm coming out. 

Therefore, we shall henceforth refer to ourselves in the royal plural--our chosen pronoun. All must bow to us, and address us as "Your Majesty". If you do not, you are guilty of a hate crime.

Also, you are all behind on your taxes. 

It's just a joke I thought was funny. Relax.

Comedy isn't always about being nice. Sometimes it's about airing out the ugly things. 

The joke here is that men in lipstick are playing women's sports and showering in women's locker rooms, and it's exactly because of 50+ years of caterwauling feminists forcing their way into every institution, organization, military branch, club, sport, and whatever else they can find, not leaving men with one single space in the entire world where they can not hold back and just be men. This insane state of affairs is the end result and logical conclusion of that course of action: e.g., if boys' football teams have to let girls play, then this is only "fair". Reductio ad absurdum. It's a grim jest, because these things are actually tragic and horrible, but that's what makes it funny. If you have that kind of dark sense of humor. 

I love women. I hate feminism; one of the chief reasons being that I believe it's actually bad for women. I don't know about Dave, but for me, this is directed towards them, the feminists who have made such a God-awful mess of things for everyone else. 

Knowing about my neurodivergence has given me the key to what I've been looking for...basically my whole life. I've always known that there was something wrong; why did I feel so awful all the time? Why did nothing ever work out? Why did everything I ever tried end in heartbreak and tragedy? And most importantly, how do I change it?

And I did feel horrible. I mean, I knew that I felt bad, but I didn't even know how bad until I felt something different to compare it to.

That's what all of it has been about. The searching, the studying, the journeying, the questioning, the mysticism and asceticism, the writing on this blog: everything was a quest to find an explanation for and a solution to my suffering.

I don't know why simply understanding what it is makes such an enormous difference. But it does. I mean, there is the fact that it enables me to get the right pharmaceutical aid to get my neurotransmitters properly balanced--and that alone is huge. But it's not all of it. Somehow, knowing what it is has made me able to come to terms with it. To find...well...not peace, exactly, but balance...perspective. I feel centered. It's like I've been surrounded by dementors all my life, and have finally learned to summon a patronus. Only it's not exactly a happy thought that does it: it's more like Sirius in Azkaban--it's the knowledge of the truth, even if it's not particularly wonderful, rather than some pleasant memory.

Now, also, I find it much easier to comprehend other people's communication. I am still not, and never will be, adept at it. It still takes effort and reflection; but I can get it. Unfortunately, now that I am more able to see in that way, I can see more clearly all the times in the past when I hurt other people without meaning to. Especially in dealing with girls. I mean, there are enough problems with communication between normal men and women. But with this added factor, it's been an absolute disaster. So many hurt feelings, when I never intended to be hurtful; I just always said the wrong thing, or said it in the wrong way. And the worst part is that so often, what I was trying to say was exactly what she was wanting to hear, only I'm not able to say it in a way that she can hear it. And vice-versa. She'll be trying to tell me something important through hints, and suggestions, and inferences, and other indirect means, as girls do, and I'll be utterly clueless.

But in all cases, I never wanted to hurt anyone. I'm thinking back, and I honestly cannot remember a time when I intentionally said something for the express purpose of hurting someone. No, wait, there's one; during the divorce. But even that was coming from a place of pain and betrayal, not malice.

And I see how living with neurodivergence without realizing it forced me to develop layers of defense mechanisms and coping strategies that were dysfunctional and ineffective. And the longer I went, the more twisted and deeply-embedded they became. Maybe that's where understanding has its effect; in allowing me to unravel all of that and come up with new ways of dealing with things.

But I don't think that's all of it, either. There's something which is hard to articulate. It's like, from the time I was a small child, I was made to feel different; alien; other; unacceptable; unlovable; a freak. Not as much (but still a bit) within my family, but definitely outside it. I don't know how to convey the effect it had. But it left a mark on how I saw myself, and how I felt about myself. Over the years, it became buried under those layers, but the wound was always there. The self-doubt and self-hatred. To oversimplify it, I guess it could be expressed as "Why am I Unlovable?" 

Try to imaging how you might feel about yourself if every interaction and relationship, starting in childhood, ended in criticism, judgment, hostility, and rejection. So yeah, I became sensitive, and defensive. 

I have had very few genuine human connections in my life, so the ones I do have are extremely precious to me. But it always ends up that those people mean more to me than I do to them. It's not easy for me to make those connections, so once I do, I don't want to let go. But they seldom seem to have a problem with tossing me to the roadside. It's almost impossible for me to communicate with people without grave misunderstanding; so I developed the habit of trying, and trying, and trying, to explain myself. But people always heard something different than what I was wanting to say. I've never had a single relationship of any kind which didn't end up breaking my heart; so I became skittish, and hesitant to open myself up, and eventually just quit altogether.

But now I'm...well, working on it, at least. I haven't really gone back "out there" into the world, and don't know if I ever will. But I've at least started to get involved in some things, in a limited way. I'm kind of done with normal people, though. Only interacting with other freaks and weirdos. 

 

I went into college intending to major in English Lit., thinking that I was going to study the great thoughts of the great thinkers by wise and kindly (if a bit crotchety and sharp) old men in tweed jackets with elbow-patches. Instead, I found that English departments had become the epicenter of feminist post-whatever, anti-everythingism, and that anything written by a "dead white male" was to be scorned and spurned. In one of my first classes, this poem was used as an example of...you know, patriarchy, blah, blah, and held up for ridicule and hate. I changed my major.

Just a lovely reading of it here by Lloyd, aka Lindybeige, another slightly crotchety, hopelessly out-of-date old white man, like me. Thanks, Lloyd.

Dear Everyone;

I don't want your app. I Don't Want Your App. I DON'T WANT YOUR APP. I DON'T WANT YOUR &*^%$@ APP!

Sincerely,

A Private Person who wants Peace

P.S. I don't want to be on your damned mailing list either.

P.P.S. I don't want to sign up for your "loyalty" program or carry your stupid card around.

P.P.P.S. No, I won't like, share, subscribe, or follow. Shut up about it.

 

Sweet Patricia

I've just learned that lovely Patricia Janeckova has passed away at the age of 25, from breast cancer.

I am heartbroken. She was so beautiful, so charming, so vivacious and captivating. And her voice! I have never heard anything like it. It was phenomenal. I seriously think she's the most gifted soprano since the invention of recording. 

Often I would watch her when I was feeling low, and it lightened my heart, just knowing that such a wonder was in the world. And she is gone. A light has gone out of the world.

Requiesce in pace, Patricia. I will miss you.

 

I guess I'm not the only one after all.

 

"In other matters also it seemed that fortune was unfriendly to him, so that often what he designed went awry, and what he desired he did not gain; neither did he win friendship easily, for he was not merry, and laughed seldom, and a shadow lay on his youth."

-- Tolkien, The Children of Hurin

 I'm always hearing about this "white male privelege". It sounds really great--where do I sign up for it? I seem to have been missing out.

 

Hoo-ah. Amen, brother. The world needs more Arabs like this. The world needs more men like this.

An answer to the gender identity crisis:

Take your clothes off. Look down. What do you see? That's what you are.