Mummy issues

When I was younger I used to have a go at my parents for how they brought me up.

I would criticize them for not making me fit in more.

I think this is a common thing with us humans.

It takes many guises but all the forms it takes share a common theme. You are blaming someone for you.

You are saying that because your parents did this you’re a fuck up.

That because you didn’t have parents you’re a fuck up.

That because this person did this horrible thing you are a fuck up.

So you have a go at these people or parents. You’re angry at them.

But say you get what you think you want.

You have a go at them and they cry. They get down on their knees and say “sorry”.

What good is that to You? You’re still a fuck up right?

All of us can do some things and can’t do other things. Every one of us knows what we should do and to varying degrees don’t do it.

This is universal and this is why you think you’re a fuck up.

Everyone reacts to stimuli differently. A thing a parent does to one child that makes them happy could traumatize another.

Human interaction is a game of roulette.

All that we are doing when we blame other people for ourselves is avoiding the issue.

You don’t like yourself. That is the problem. You think you are a badly made human being.

Even if this is true what good is an apology? After all it would just be someone else agreeing with your self loathing. “I’m sorry I fucked you up.” Is just “You’re a fuck up” wearing a smiling mask.

Why do you think you’re a fuck up?

According to whom?

Where did you get your standards from? Do you even know?

Don’t you see that as long as you operate within this framework you will never stop hating yourself?

That even if you manage to be who you think you should be there will be that little voice at the back of your head that says “You’re a fake.”

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A Well Intentioned god.

A well intentioned god came along and made people. He meant to be the hero but couldn’t stop being the villain.

He thought people were “good” (deep down and naturally) but just didn’t know what “good” was. He reasoned to himself that ignorance thwarted their desperate attempts at being “good”.

“A ha” he said with a light bulb above his head “I’ll teach them what “good” is!”

So he went to start and just before the first word left his mouth he realized that he didn’t know what “good” was.

What was he to do?

“A ha” he said again “I’ll find the “good”

So he searched and he searched.

He criss crossed a basket weave over all of existence and at the end of his trials he stood empty handed because “What is” when asked concerning the “good” said nothing.

“A ha” he said yet again “I know what I shall do. I shall make the “good””

With nothing to base the “good” on except his own preference he based it on that.

Of course he was more coy about that fact to both himself and the people he’d made.

He would sometimes say when asked “oh that’s good because, er, because it allows you to harvest more, or stops you being sick” but mostly he just said “it’s good because it’s good”

Once the good was set up (the people called them laws) he thought to himself “my work is done. Now they have been told what to do they can carry on without being told anymore”

Many generations of the people were born and died when he thought “I’m going to go check in on those “good” people. It will be “good” to bask in my prior accomplishments.”

So he went back and discovered it was somehow worse than he left it.

What had gone wrong?

He wiped the people out.

“Start from scratch.” he said.

So he made the people again and gave them the “good” he had made again. Now though he stayed to see what would happen.

Silently he watched from the ether. He watched and he saw.

He saw that it had nothing to do with the content of the “good”; nothing to do with what the particular laws said.

There was a surface and a depth to the application of “good”.

On the surface the “good” worked. It told people what they could or couldn’t do and what they could do to the people who did what they couldn’t.

Below that though the law had taken on another function unpredicted by him.

The “good” became synomous with trust. People trusted “good” people and they knew who was “good”and who wasn’t by looking at the law.

“All well and good, ” mumbled our protagonist “or at least it would be if some people didn’t have the cheek to disregard my “good”.

“Now there are people who want to harm other people or exploit them and I’ve given them the perfect disguise!

“They can hide behind the “good”. If I hadn’t made the good in the first place they’d have nowhere to hide and everyone would see their rapacity.

“And that’s not all! Their sacrilege knows no bounds because those very men who want to bind others to their own interests have re-fashioned the “good” as they see fit.”

He stared around him at the mess he’d made. He was about to wipe the people out again but then thought better.

“That’s enough meddling for me don’t you think?” He said through the 4th wall.

What if you were God

Let us play a game.

A game of pretend.

Only at the end of the game if you win you’ll realize that it wasn’t a game.

That really what you thought wasn’t a game was a game.

So to begin I want you to close your eyes. Well I don’t because you won’t be able to read what I write if you do.

But anyway pretend to close your eyes.

Now I want you to imagine what it would be like to be God with a big G.

You can do whatever you want, you know everything and you are everywhere.

Question: what are you going to do?

Well come on. What would you do if you won the lottery so to speak?

Imagine the questions that would bug you in this state.

What is the point? What am I to do?

It’s all well and good being poor you know. These questions don’t really come up.

What is the point? To get rich of course; or at least make it so I don’t have to worry about food and shelter anymore.

What am I to do? Another easy one: try to get rich, build a hut or whatever.

It’s all very well being in a state of need. The need sorts those questions out for you.

But now I’m asking you what do you do when there is no need? After you’ve got that house and you’re rich and you have slaves to do everything for you. What do you do?

In a sense owning slaves is a lot like the power we ascribe to god. I speak “give me steak!” And voila my employee brings me steak.

God speaks “Let there be light” and voila there is light.

The only difference is that the universe in this way of thinking is God’s slave.

Well what would you do if you were God?

I’m not really looking for an answer to the question. It would be different for everybody anyway.

But that this question seems the most appropriate question one would ask oneself if one were God is interesting.

Why? Because it’s what we ask ourselves all the time.

That is to say that the most fundamental question man can ask “What am I to do?” Is the only question it makes any sense for God to ask also.

“Well I am. I want to be. Obviously I want to be otherwise I wouldn’t be. I’m god after all I can not be if I didn’t want to be. What on earth am I supposed to do?” Says god.

“Well here I am. I’m alive. Obviously I want to be alive because it’s easy to not be alive. I just chuck myself under a bus. But what the hell am I do with myself” says man.

Everyone reaches this state. Once you’ve put the time in at work to feed and clothe yourself you get home. You can do stuff but all the stuff you need to do has been done.

What are you to do?

Easy

I lived my life
Trying to control
But really

 
it wasn’t easy;
I struggled and strived
denied myself my…
Self. Tried to be…
someone else.

 
I didn’t know it
but the truth is
that laziness
is the way to
the truest self
expression.

 
The easiest path
is the easiest path
because
you want to walk it.

 
Everywhere
people strive
to be what they are not.

 
They live a lie of strife
a life of effort
for no reward.
No-one claps
there is no applause
and if there was
so what?

 
what can I do with applause?

 
This need we have
to convince people
to proove ourselves right
is nothing but a
struggle to hand over
our freedom to
come under
dominion.

 
See when you see
that seeing is a slow
slow journey to
clarity,

 
That
All people walk it
few of them know it
and eventually
everyone knows this.

 
If only for the moment
when your grandma dies
and leaves a wound and
you know, you
really know that
what matters doesn’t matter
that these standards
don’t matter!

 
That mattering can
smatter itself
scatologically
across the cistern.

 
That what “matters”
has placed a barrier
between me and you
between me and my family
because I fail
I try and I fail
To live up to the
Standard.

 
I feel guilt
that I’m not
what they admire
what they respect.

 
And this guilt
with downcast eyes
and stammering lips
weaves a disguise
before our very eyes
that hides from us both
the ones we want to know.

 
Not secretly
but openly
a family is fed upon
by a guilt
that restrains the lips
from uttering trivialities
and we watch
powerlessly
as our loved ones
disappear into
anonymity.

 
But death comes
and it shows us
through the tears
in the heart of the wound
that nothing matters
like we think it matters.

 
That my flaws are
just excuses for conversation
just things to say, admit
not to hide and justify.

 
That by being me
unabashedly
without restraint
is the way into the bosom of my family
because we’re all of one stock,
one blood, one lineage
let us compare notes
not give advice.

 
Let us come together
find what we have in common
uncover the stutters
and how we have dealt with them;
The social dis-ease
the low self-esteem
that doesn’t go
however we seem.

 
For me personally
it surrounds woman.
I hanker
for the female
anchor.

 
The feisty female
who
unbidden
solicits my advances;
but I stay back
because
In my eyes
I’m despised.

 
How could a woman
with hips and thighs
ever want to stare into these eyes?

 
I know,
I know,
I could wear a disguise
of adidas
and live a life
of work and strife
but that would
lead to a ball and chain
not a woman who’s mine
and who wants me.

 
Me!
Not some fiction
I create just to get
a whiff of fanny.

I lie sometimes

There’s something funny and absurd I have noticed about myself.

It’s something about which I feel shame; so I’m going to shove it in your faces just to spite my ego.

I lie; for the stupidest reason: to look good in front of others.

For instance I recently met up with a friend in a coffee shop who had gone to university and got a degree.

He now runs stand-up workshops tailored to academics so that they can express the complex ideas they produce to a wider audience through humour.

Recently he said that he had referred my blog to someone who was setting up a magazine that wants to publish humorous and engaging articles on philosophy.

So far all that is true; but here comes the lie.

I told my family and friends; the people whose opinion I care about, that he got his degree from Cambridge university.

He didn’t actually tell me what university he went to because I forgot to ask. So it might be true.

But that’s not the point is it?

Here am I writing about how pride is silly and a bad thing lying because of pride; because I want my family to be proud of me.

What a silly billy I am!

Now I don’t think lying is bad or good. It depends on the context: if a lie leads someone to act against their best interests then you could say that lie was bad; if a lie leads someone to act for their best interests you could say that lie was good.

A verse from the bible springs to mind “…be ye therefore wise as serpents and harmless as doves” Matt 10:16

That lie caused nobody any harm.

I’m not obliged to tell the truth (I refer you to the contract paradox: I promise not to lie; I promise to keep my promises and I promise to keep the promise I just made to keep my promises and so ad infinitum).

But I know that trying to big yourself up is a silly thing to do; but yet I do it!

That’s the thing with us humans: it’s not that we don’t know what to do; it’s that we don’t do what we know we ought to do.

Ha ha ha what a bunch of silly billies we all are!