Bad Medicine

So I've been watching the GOP convention...if watching is the appropriate term for it. It's all I can do to sit through speeches full of lies and CNN's coverage that is devoid of any fact checking. I look at the faces, almost all white, on the convention floor and I see the same glassy-eyed devotion to a lie that I see in churches. It got me really thinking about what it is that bothers me so much about "them".

It's the disingenuous facade of it all. It's people voting against their own financial interests just to oust the black guy from office. It's people cheering policies that make us less safe so they can feel more safe. It's the false choice offered every year between D and R. It's the same reason I dislike the "faithful" who are no different from me in their flaws, faults and follies and yet hold themselves up on a pedestal of smoke and mirrors.

Honesty is the most important quality I can seek in a person. Honesty to others and honesty to yourself. It's why I dislike almost all politicians. It's why I'm so disappointed in the religious. It's why those who can't even be honest with themselves garner my disdain.

I would have a much higher respect for the GOP if their convention were all about making corporations stronger, making it harder for minorities to vote, lowering Mitt's taxes, endless war and the inevitable black-lung we will all die from once pollution regulations are eliminated. I mean, I wouldn't vote for them, but I could respect them.

I also find my personal relationships strongly influenced by this. I can switch gears from adoration to aversion in a matter of minutes when I see that somebody is unable or unwilling to be honest. In the end, being true to yourself, knowing who you are and loving that person, is hard to swallow but it isn't going to change. Afterward though, comes a liberation that few will realize because they're not just afraid of the big bad world, but of themselves.

All About Mormons

Not really...but that is an awesome South Park episode.

The other day I was the very pleased recipient of two Mormon missionaries who came to my door. I was overjoyed to have the opportunity to speak with them. I mentally clapped my hands...at least I hope it was only in my mind.

As an atheist, and a rather proud one at that, I love when people try and convert me. But more importantly, I love when people of a faith I know nothing about try and convert me. I'm always open to the option that I might be wrong, so this was another learning experience. The doorbell rang and I was pleased to converse with two nice young women about their faith and my lack thereof.

The conversation went so well that we had another meeting a week later at the house of one of their members. I learned a lot about what they believed and I can see why a lot of Christians don't consider LDS to be a Christian faith at all. I also experienced their conversion tactics and I have to say, they're good.

Apparently, Mormons rely very heavily on the Book of Mormon. And I mean..for a lot. Almost daily scripture study, Sunday services that last 3+ hours. They immerse themselves in their Book like Christians claim to. When talking to somebody new, they do their best to get them to read passages from the Book as frequently as possible (I declined). They hold an opening and closing prayer, of course inviting the new person to participate and even offer their own words (I also declined). It isn't exactly cult-indoctrination behavior, but it is an excellent example of social pressure. I hope I wasn't smiling all too much.

You see, there was a time when I would have bowed my head, said the words, faked my way through it and in the end, maybe even gone along with a conversion experience in the long run. I was not as strong in my non-faith as I am today. Their suggestion that I pray to a being I don't believe in and listen for an answer (thereby assuming there might be a being to provide an answer) was a suggestion that might have had some power before. I hope I was not actually as "aloof" as one of them suggested I was.

I can't say that I didn't understand the appeal of what they had though. They were quite happy in the shackles of their faith. They accepted circumstance as God's will and trials as a passing moment of suffering before an Eternity in Heavenly bliss. As nice as they were, the doe-eyed expressions were ones that haunt me more than any imagined Hell. They had found peace. They found a peace in not having choices, in not having responsibility for their actions, in servitude. I hope my life is one of constant chaos by comparison.

Proper Alignment

We all know how important it is to keep your car's alignment in order. There's all the benefits of improved tire life and gas mileage, but I'm especially focused on improved control. I like to know exactly what my car will do when I tell it to do it. It struck me that while I'm an absolute nazi about my car's performance and expectations, I hardly give a shit about my own.

There is something fundamentally wrong with one's soul if they aren't able to do what they are passionate about. There is an even bigger problem when they are able to do it, but choose not to. That's the position I've been in now for...however long I can remember. I can sit down any time I want and write, but I don't. Nearly every weekend there's a racing event to attend, and I haven't been going. I haven't been doing the  things I really want to do. Not terribly smart of me.

So, it's time to rearrange some priorities and get some more mileage out of myself before it's too late. I've had this story idea in my head since high school. Time to write it out. I need to stick to the straight and narrow path that brings me happiness. And next year... back to the track.

Endless Cycle

I have a smartass line that won't leave my head. "The best thing about life is that it will be over soon" I know, I know, it's so emo that it's cliche. But let's face it, something has to change or tomorrow will be as useless as yesterday is.

The core of my frustration comes in the pattern that continuously pops its head up again and again. This has been going on for years and is the only evidence I have for the existence of God. And let me tell you, he's a dick.

From time to time, months or years apart, there is a glimmer of hope that something amazing is about to happen. It could be a lucrative job, a wonderful girl, that dream vacation or just a lucky break that lets me pocket a couple hundred bucks. Every time, things go wrong...and every time I'm left holding the very empty bag.

I would think I have bad luck, if I believed in luck. I can't tell you what it is, other than exhausting. It has come to the point recently where I don't want to put effort into anything because in the end, it will just be another miserable failure. I don't even have terribly high hopes that this blog post will make any sense.

I feel like all effort is wasted. Why care about the world's big meta problems when no individual can change them? Why express my opinion when nobody even listens? Why get up out of bed? To be fair, I have a super comfy bed.

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PS: I just noticed what a difference this was from my last post. Amazing what two months of constant bullshit will do to a guy, huh?