You Have Been Chosen

So gmail provided an interesting link in the advertisement section next to the body of a recent e-mail. I typed a short message of concern for a friend, "I hope everything is alright. I know you're busy, but let me know how you're doing when you get the time."

Gmail uses an ingenious algorithym which scans the words of an e-mail for clues which generate the most appropriate advertising links. Apparently this system is one of the worlds most advanced methods of gathering and organizing information.

Next to the body of my concerned e-mail, I couldn't help but notice what Gmail concluded from my two sentences of concern. A single, lonely link was posted: Desperate?

The word, colored in blue hypertext font strangely reminded me of an Alice in Wonderland trip ---take the blue pill--- but you can never return.

Desperate?
Surrounded by troubles?
Overcome by problems?
If you want to see how to save a hopeless situation,
See below

I was only mildly surprised that there was no obvious place to click and send money. What are they selling? Drugs? Books? Videos?

But I went along reading, down a small ladder of logic that was designed to make the reader feel as though their pains are common to most humans.

I often wondered why I respond to a situation the way I respond. Interestingly, I have responded to the same event in different ways at different times, to the extent that one response can be opposite to the previous response. Why?

I have searched for answers. Nothing seems to be final, but I think it is something to do with my beliefs. If my belief about the situation changes, my response changes, even if the situation is the same.

Very systematic...

Why do I choose to believe the way I believe? Most times it is based on experience of the same type of situation in the past and whether it was beneficial to me.

To believe one way or to believe another way is merely a decision based on my belief at that point in time.

Why do I believe what I believe? Because I decide to do so. Making a choice is a decision. I can choose to decide I no longer believe in what I used to believe in. I can choose to believe in something else, even the opposite.

Can I believe in anything? Yes, I merely decide to believe in it.
Am I free to decide to believe in anything? I believe I am free to do so.
I believe that any belief is only one decision away.

Of course this gets to the nature of the question: what is belief?

Belief is created through reasoning and perception whether consciously or unconsciously. The idea that one can choose what to believe is surely a curious position. It stands that if one chooses what to believe, then human reason must have the ability to compartmentalize. For instance, one could reason that all reality is simply temporary beliefs, or an acceptance that patterns will continue uninterrupted until proven otherwise, at which time the belief changes to include the new patterns. But one could also reason that basing one's idea of reality on ever changing beliefs creates an unstable environment which may make one uncomfortable. Since a human may strive for comfort, it is reasonable that one may choose to believe in a steady, unchanging reality in order to maximize comfort and therefore productivity, health, etc.

This is a case in which reason provides two very opposite conclusions once compartimentalized to include the benefits to the one doing the reasoning.

Notice the brilliant encoding of the writer's position in the last few lines highlighted. "Can I believe in anything? Yes, I merely decide to believe in it. Am I free to decide to believe in anything? I believe I am free to do so. I believe that any belief is only one decision away.

The suggestion is that one could take advantage of the maleable nature of belief. The structure of the essay has so far been:

1. Are you depressed? It is likely due to your outlook.
2. Your outlook is based on a system of beliefs.
3. Although beliefs are created through reason, it is compartimentalized reason.
4. The choices you make will adjust the outcome of your reason.

This begs the obvious question. What is one choosing from?

1. Feel good.
2. Feel bad.

Suppose I tell you a fantastic story. It is fantastic because even by stretching my imagination, it sounds too good to be true. But why not hear me out. It may prove to be interesting.

The writer then goes on to explain, quite concisely, the Old Testament's story of creation followed by the history of man leading up to the Messiah.

A few parts are real gems:

There is a catch to this story. Who the creator chooses to hear and to believe this story is entirely up to the creator. Selection is entirely by grace or favor. Nothing I do or don’t do can influence the creator to select me. Interestingly, the selection has already taken place at the foundation of the universe.

Once I believe this story, I stop fearing death. I am enabled by an agent of the creator called holy spirit to focus on the creator’s son, Yeshua. Holy spirit enables me to cast all my cares to Yeshua. When I meet up with a problem, my attitude is as follows. “Hey! I didn’t ask to be created, so it is not my responsibility to solve this problem. Therefore, Yeshua, please take over.”

The extent that this attitude is employed is the extent of peace of mind I enjoy. The problem may not change immediately but the burden of responsibility is instantly lifted off my shoulders. Many a time, circumstances change and the problem shifts from appearing as a curse to appearing as a blessing.

Should I believe this story?
What if it is fiction?
So what?
What do I have to lose?

What I find particularly interesting is the existence of choice. But the nature of this choice may be very different from one person to the next. Those who acknowledge that their beliefs are based on a reasonable conclusion, whether conscious or not, that every belief originated from some evidence (how much or little depending on the individual's degree of skepticism)and some reasonable sorting of information from there on out, may find this choice to be... well...

humane.

To make rational decisions which are chosen to best serve the characteristics of the human require special study of the human. Yet how does one best understand the nature of a human, as a human? Some say that the study of archetypes reveal universal patterns of desire and fear, therefore revealing deep rooted human characteristics. Some say that intuition is our truest knowledge, and a quieting of the rational mind is in order.

Then some say: everything in moderation.

*gulp*

On Heroic Myth

Moyers: But aren't many visionaries and even leaders and heroes close to the edge of neuroticism?

Campbell: Yes, they are.

Moyers: How do you explain that?

Campbell: They've moved out of the society that would have protected them, and into the dark forest, into the world of fire, of original experience. Original experience has not been interpreted for you, and so you've got to work out your life for yourself. Either you can take it or you can't. You don't have to go far off the interpreted path to find yourself in very difficult situations. The courage to face the trials and to bring a whole new body of possibilities into the field of interpreted experience for other people to experience-- that is the hero's deed.


Furthermore...

... we have not even to risk the adventure alone, for the heroes of all time have gone before us. The labyrinth is thoroughly known. We have only to follow the thread of the hero path, and where we had thought to find an abomination, we shall find a god. And where we had thought to slay another, we shall slay ourselves. Where we had thought to travel outward, we will come to the center of our own existence. And where we had thought to be alone, we will be with all the world.

The Golden Age of Advertising

What does my mother have to do with this? Why do those chimey pop songs make me want to be simple and cool and wear light blue and khaki and drive Volkswagons and listen to i-tunes? Why do I have an overwhelming desire to love a sneaker?

Screw it, where's my wallet?

These people are brilliant. This is where the talent has been going. Mixers, engineers, composers, visual artists, are on top of their game. The great artists of our day filtered through the most advanced consumer psychology have created a body of work that is nothing to sneeze at.

MLK

Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.

I get chills when I read these lines. And so ended the last speech of Martin Luther King, April 3, 1968.

Ugh

I've been slowly recovering from a diet rich in high fructose corn-syrup, foreign chocolates, and whitman's samplers. Christmas treats provide me with enough calories to cut out most other meals, and the means to melt dark, white, and milk chocolate in my mouth at the same time. What's really crazy is if you throw a tootsie roll in the middle of that mayhem. The combination of texture is just mind-blowing. Of course apples taste like cardboard for about a week.

With this disclaimer I justify ode to broccoli, both in lack of skill, quality, focus, as well as my desperate longing for nutrients.

Fun though... for a bit. It was a good ride. Until next year.

Ode

Crunchy, tender broccoli
with a hairy brain
naked, except for the hairy part
from one, come many

You remain
green for about a week
then you sometimes turn yellow
in the hair area

and after the yellow,
you wrinkle at the stem
and your leaves turn to black
and your hair turns to soup

though you still throb with A
C, B, and Z-
inc, I will not eat you
if you remind me of soup

but sometimes soup reminds me of you

and all hail
the king of vegetables
the queen of earthly delights
the vacuum of heavy minerals
the only with eggs breakfast food

do yourself a favor
don't fight
surrender to me
dissolve into my blood
bond to my cells
share my Dee eN ey

and keep my brain
from becoming pale

that way you will be rewarded
with sons and daughters for all time

long after the demise of collard greens

Laughing is funny

The art of observational comedy is endlessly fascinating to us all. So many observational comics are horrible, or annoying, but when it works, it's funny because it's true.

Thats why I present you today with the work of the late, great Mitch Hedberg. I'm just sorry we can't hear his delivery. If you never heard him, imagine an over-articulated, minnesota man, with the delivery speed somewhere between droopy and winnie the poo. He sounds especially funny when he does not use contractions. I do not know why. It is just that he does. Enjoy:

I was in a casino, minding my own business, and this guy came up to me and said, 'You're gonna have to move. You're blocking a fire exit.' As though if there was a fire, I wasn't gonna run. If you're flammable and have legs, you are never blocking a fire exit. Unless you're a table.

Alcoholism is a disease, but it's the only one you can get yelled at for having. 'Damn it, Otto, you're an alcoholic.' 'Damn it, Otto, you have lupus.' One of those two doesn't sound right.

I don't wanna have my face on the cover of a Wheaties box. I wanna have my face on the cover of a Rice Krispies box. Snap, Crackle, Mitch, and Pop. "Hey, how the fuck did he do that?" "Hey, in Hollywood its all who you know, and I know Crackle."

I want to climb a mountain -- not so I can get to the top -- cause I want to hang out at base camp. That seems fucking fun as shit. You sleep in a colorful tent, you grow a beard, you drink hot chocolate, you walk around... "Hey, you going to the top?" -- "Soon."

All McDonalds commercials end the same way: "prices and participation may vary." I want to open my own McDonalds and not participate in anything. I want to be a stubborn McDonalds owner. "Cheeseburgers? Nope. We got spaghetti!...And blankets. But we are not affiliated with that clown, he attracts too many children."

I went to a restaurant and I ordered a chicken sandwich, but I don't think the waitress heard me 'cause she asked how I'd like my eggs. So I tried answering her anyways. "INCUBATED! Then hatched, then raised, then beheaded, then plucked, then cut up, then put onto a grill, then put onto a bun. ...., it's gonna take a while. I don't have the time. Scrambled!"

When you go to a restaurant on the weekends and it's busy they start a waiting list. They start calling out names. They say, "Dufresne, party of two. Dufresne, party of two." And if no one answers they'll say their name again. "Dufresne, party of two. Dufresne, party of two." But then if no one answers they'll just go right on to the next name. "Bush, party of three." Yeah, but what happened to the Dufresnes? No one seems to give a shit. Who can eat at a time like this? People are missing. You fuckers are selfish. The Dufresnes are in someone's trunk right now with duct tape over their mouths. And they're hungry! That's a double whammy. We need help. "Bush, search party of three! You can eat when you find the Dufresnes."

A lollipop is a cross between hard candy and garbage.

I have a cheese-shredder, which is its positive name. They don't call it by its negative name, cause no one would buy it: sponge-ruiner. Because I wanted to clean it, and now I have little bits of sponge... that would melt easily over tortilla chips.

I like swiss cheese. It's the only cheese you can draw with a pencil and identify. You can draw American cheese, but someone will think it's cheddar. Swiss cheese is the only cheese you can bite and miss. "Hey Mitch - does that sandwich have cheese on it?" "Every now and then!" I got some swiss air on that bite.

I bought a doughnut and they gave me a receipt for the doughnut. I don't need a receipt for the doughnut. Man, I'll just give you money, then you give me the doughnut. End of transaction. We don't need to bring ink and paper into this. I just can't imagine a scenario where I would have to prove that I bought a doughnut. Some skeptical friend: "Don't even act like I didn't get that doughnut, I've got the documentation right here. Oh wait, it's at home, in the file... under D... for doughnut"

A waffle is like a pancake with syrup traps. It says to the syrup "You ain't goin' anywhere!"

I make instant oatmeal in the morning then I don't do shit for an hour. Makes me wonder why I need the instant oatmeal. I could make the regular oatmeal and feel productive.

I don't have a microwave but I do have a clock that occasionally cooks shit.

I took acid, and when I took acid, I finally understood that butter is way better than margarine. I saw through the bullshit.

I got some tartar-control toothpaste. I still got tartar, but that shit's under control. If the tartar gets outta line, I'm like, "Come on, man, you know the deal. Fall in! You crazy-ass tartar..." I got so much tartar, I don't have to dip my fish sticks in shit! ... That's actually kinda gross. After I tell that joke, I clarify that I'm just joking. I don't know how much tartar I actually have.

I booked myself at Las Vegas, in a casino, the Riviera Hotel, that has a comedy club. There were 4 comedians on the bill and we all had similar hair because we were all using the Riviera in-house shampoo. So we all have equal shine and bounce. It was a 2-in-1 shampoo and 2-in-1 is a bullshit term because 1 isn't big enough to hold 2. That's why 2 was created. If it was 2-in-1, it would be overflowing. The bottle would be all sticky and shit...

I was in my hotel's shower, and I started washing my hair, then I looked at the bottle, and it turned out I was using body wash. It was like a scene from one of those action movies where they get real close to the object. I was like, "Body wash... BODY WASH?!?" And then I realized my hair was part of my body and I didn't even care.

If you get lost in the woods, fuck it, build a house! I used to be lost, but now I live here! I have severely improved my predicament!

I get a cold sore. I hate to say it, Minnesota, but in a cold sore I put Carmex on it 'cause Carmex is supposed to alleviate cold sores. I dunno if it does help, but it will make them shiny and more noticeable. It's like cold sore highlighter! Maybe they could come up with an arrow that heals cold sores.

See, I'm a dreamer, man. And when I was a cook I'd always work with people who weren't dreamers. Like, I was cooking at this restaurant and I put a hot dog on the grill and my kitchen manager came over, and he said, "Mitch, put the hot dog up here, in the right hand corner of the grill, so in case you get a whole bunch of orders at once you have all this space available." See, that's how I knew he wasn't a dreamer, 'cause the day I give up my dreams is the day I have strategic grill locations. A dreamer has a philosophy: the entire grill is hot.

I bought myself a parrot. The parrot talked. But it did not say, "I'm hungry,"... so it died.

Baby Boomers Turn 60

And Paul McCartney officially sold out. We all knew it was going to happen. No, not the bit on Sir Paul. Rather, Baby Boomers were gonna get old sooner or later, and the resources of our collective marketing machine were going to be focused on more conservative, plan-to-party-before-you-die type things like retirement accounts and viagra. If you wanna get rich, invest 10 years ahead of a generation, and wait for the demand to catch up. I mean, I bet Depends diapers for adults is pretty cheap stock right now.

But seriously folks. If the Baby Boomers had one thing going for them, it was their awe-inspiring neo-spiritualist movement. There was an awakening, a collective search for humanitarian roots which rebelled against the poisons of ominous corporate rule. They were resourceful enough to use the tentacles of mass-media to spread the message. Folk/Pop/Anthem music was healthy, fresh, virile, and above all, readily available for consumption. Included in this army of honest souls were The Doors, The Birds, Bob Dylan, and of course, The Beatles. Now, I'm not going to say that the Beatles achieved the most honest, in your face, get up and see the world yourself you lazy, brainwashed, product of military-industrial complex mommies. But I would venture to say that next to the military, The Beatles were the most successful deliverers of a universal message. I didn't live during their time, yet even two generations later, I am greatly impressed with their influence. Once the Beatles hit it big, I'm sure most people felt a sense of relief, believing that we had the closest thing to leaders who could not be bought. I recently read that Sir Paul is worth a sum of $1.5 billion. So tell me, please, someone, why is Paul doing commercials for Fidelity investments? Does he really care about my IRA? Does he even have an IRA? Or are old age and money really the two things we can count on to shrivel the idealist streak in us all.

Please, Paul, tell me you're saving up for a giant air filter, designed to take us back to pre-1930 levels of air pollution. Or maybe this will all go to the McCartney prize, awarded to the developer of the best plan to keep the human population in check while still saving children from starvation and disease.

Oh Paul. When I'm 64, indeed.