Such a wonderful, beautiful, frantic place.
I am certainly nothing approaching a world traveler.
I hardly get out of my house, and furthermore, I hate flying. So it is only with a grain of salt that I advise you to accept my statement: San Francisco is one of the most beautiful cities in the world.
Of course, I base much of this on disconnected photographs of global cities I’ve seen, but some of it is based on personal trips and observation, as well. It is prettier than New York City, Orlando, even Vancouver (which is astounding in its own right), just a tad prettier than Tijuana, and nowhere in the same league as the great hairy mole by the sea, Los Angeles.
San Francisco, undulated by surreal topography and the meteorological conditions of a hallucinogenic dream, presents a landscape that, at least for me, has always been out of this world. All those hills compressed into a small harrowing zone of human density mounted precariously over the ocean makes me remember how, as a child, I enjoyed playing with sheets and pillows which I scrunched up into walls and roofing and pretended was my own private other-worldly shelter, a refuge from a really ugly, dirty world.
Oppressed and victimized crybabies living out their aimless anarchy again. Branching out into the dangerous territory of shooting da policemenz.
This is the last paragraph from the Guardian’s news account of the double shooting in Ferguson. It regards the Fed’s hypocritical condemnation of the small city:
In their report last week, justice department officials concluded that police and court authorities targeted black people disproportionately and frequently violated their constitutional rights. They were accused of operating the criminal justice system as a generator of city revenues.
You know, why don’t we just all protest human nature?
Why don’t we take up arms against it? Human nature is innately foul, ruthless, opportunistic, corrupt and greedy. Let’s tear apart villages and cities (those we live in, of course, because nothing screams “childish” like cutting off the nose to spite the face) and do it in the name of reprehensible human nature. And better yet, let’s attach an “-ism” to the word as applied to our own personal sense of victimization and White people will roundly support our despicable behavior as the smart and socially aware thing to do.
It’s a win-win as long as we surrender all sense of self-respect.
I’m trying to reconcile some torn feelings I have. It’s about Disneyland.
There’s a difference between visiting the park once every few years. You do it for friends, family, a significant other, etc. But you aren’t so enthralled with the occasion that you make a habit or fetish of it. You can take it or leave it. You go to be gracious to those who matter to you.
This is how I imagine men, in general, relate to Disneyland. They tolerate the silly flippancy of the place with tired smiles. They eat, get on a few rides, grit their teeth and brave the loud, colorful crowds. They exhale in relief as they leave the park late at night after doing their periodic good deed, realizing that they won’t have to return for a few years. This is what I imagine men think of Disneyland. I like to think of a typical man as having a sense of gravitas which precludes enjoyment of such overpriced, childish folly. Men are dark of spirit and stern of nature. They don’t enjoy suspending rigors of maturity for such immature amusement and playful levity.
I know of several men who love Disneyland.
I guess they are good guys. I don’t know them particularly well and I don’t relish speaking ill of them or calling their motives and natures into question. But I must wonder honestly. Why would any man enjoy Disneyland so much?
I bring this up because I have learned of a man who goes to Disneyland with his girlfriend quite often.
He enjoys it way too much from what I can make of it. In fact, he went this weekend and returned yesterday because they had a promotional free ticket they wanted to use. I joked with the person who relayed the story. I’m not amazed by the money involved in this expensive habit as much as I’m amazed anyone could go to Disneyland so much.
Especially a man.
There is nothing appealing to me about Disneyland. It is games, it is unreality, it is boring. There are so many other practical, useful ways I’d rather spend my time. But I’m a guy. A man makes his time count, and make believe does not count. I totally accept women enjoying Disneyland. Women are children at heart. They are not serious or grave and they worship levity. Women enjoy fantasy and fictional embellishment of a life they see as staid and banal, the very same qualities that make normal men embrace the drudgery of existence.
But I hear about men who love Disneyland.
I don’t get it. Are they immature? How does a man suspend masculinity in order to enjoy such hollow diversion? Does he, in fact, need to suspend masculinity? Is it possible to be a man and enjoy Disneyland? Or, more accurately, a real man. A man of fortitude and backbone and strength? Doesn’t the shrill foolishness of Disneyland disqualify all semblance of manhood? Shall we be leery of men who enjoy Disneyland as much as women?
Has foolishness become a man’s right now? Does a man now reserve the right to think and act like a child in order to be the female equal? Whereas women have become “harder” and “tougher” in order to find equilibrium with men, have men surrendered their strength and moroseness in order to mimic the glib female persona, including the assumption of empty-headed playground mimicry?
My first reaction to the statement was flabbergasting. To me, alone, perhaps. I expect everyone to note it, see through it. Alas, no such thing happens.
Instinctively, my mouth fell agape. I even volunteered a snarky-ass comment. Then the sad realization dawned. It does not strike many people as absurd.
“The habitable zone of our galaxy.”
How is that again?
Do people have a sufficient concept of astronomy which, at the very least, informs them of the ludicrousness of this phrase?
Is scientific ignorance this pervasive in so-called modern society? How is it people know more about Suge Knight or American Idol or the Bible than know to raise an eyebrow at such a postulation as “habitable zone of our galaxy?”
It’s not the fact that people don’t know how misinformed it is to say something like “habitable zone of our galaxy,” but of what it portends for our mediocre fate as a species, and what it signifies for the level of human intelligence I must interact with on daily basis. Times like this, I’m so ready to live in the middle of the forest where I can be my sole company.
Apparently, most people are content to wallow in ignorant blindness. Sadly, society ultimately asks nothing more of us. Our grand civilization coasts along on the rickety, oblivious path of non-immersion. Collectively, we volunteer and devote as little hard work as possible so we can enjoy stupid shit that means nothing.
BTW: our galaxy is so immense, so astronomically unchartered, that it won’t be thoroughly “mapped” out in our generation. Or any generation for hundreds or thousand to come. We, as a scientific community, have no concept of habitable or not when overlaid against such infinitesimal cosmological distances.
Such a supposition as habitability when posed within the context of the Milky Way is, at best, a level of scientific gullibility that borders on retarded.