Dionysian Psychosis. Bar the Door.

On a Normal Day, I am Apollo…in the Neitzschean sense…(see:Birth of Tragedy). Reason dominates…cool, calm collective…unruffled. Clinical detachment.

Sometimes, though, Dionysius comes…and I am just the opposite.

A “Therapist” told me several years ago that I suffer from “Bipolar NOS”(not otherwise specified,lol)….and that my descent into Drunken Psychosis is my “Manic Phase”.

There are, apparently, Triggers that induce this state….and the Trick is to determine just what these Triggers are. No small task.

I have, from earliest times…although I was unaware of it…been quite shy. In hindsight, I chalk this up to being a Freakish Genius, among the Mundane. I was never like the other kids…and was unskilled at and bewildered by Social Norms and Constructs…

I clung to my Anomalousness… it was, and is, my defining feature.

Too, it turns out that I was/am what Jung referred to as “Innately Sensitive”…my sense organs function “Too Well”…which may sound great, but is really quite uncomfortable, especially in Crowds.

These two “qualities” set me apart…social situations were, in the main, horrible experiences. Our “Culture” is not very tolerant of Strangeness…and I have always been Strange…and, with the Vibe Antenna,I Grokked the reactions of others to my Strangeness.(how accurate this Antenna is, is unknown.)

Round and round.

Alcohol was the cure, it seemed…although, at the beginning, the side effects were a little bit worrisome. (These side effects have grown worse, over time…to say the least.)

I found myself drinking, before anything having to do with social interaction…and then, it was normal…kids drink, after all. But I was, unknowingly, drinking to cure something….social anxiety.

Later, after the Cop Crusade, the betrayal by Her, and all that came with it…drink numbed the (psychological) Pain.

I knew, from the time I was 19, that I had a “Problem”…and even sought treatment…but I was Anomalous in this, as in almost everything else. AA, and all the other systems and ways of Treating alcoholism, are geared, designed, to treat the Average Drunk …and I was anything but average. I could go for long spells without a drink…I generally didn’t “take a nip” in the morning…etc. I was a binge drinker. And, counterintuitively, I knew what I was doing…

I didn’t accidentally drink, like many of the folks I met at AA…I deliberately set out to drink…to get to the Sweet Spot(see Streetcar Named Desire)…where my control ended was after the Sweet Spot had been reached. This is where things got entirely out of hand, and I found myself to be very crafty in finding more drink.

Another anomalous effect that alcohol seems to have on me, is the stimulant quality. This is well known in the research…it acts as a stimulant on almost everybody…but in most folks, this effect diminishes…and it’s true nature takes over…folks generally pass out, at some point. I do not…

Wanna keep me up for 3 days? Keep the beer flowing.

For a long time, I’d drink after work, due to my legs…and this was mostly fine…

Alcohol is a remarkable analgesic.

These Reasons for procuring alcohol, and indulging, were very real…not excuses…the Pain relief, especially. I was, for a long time, quite unaware of the Social Anxiety…the nascent Agoraphobia…that I was, inadvertently “Treating”.

That didn’t occur to me till much later.

911, the birth of my Son, and the collapse of my Café…as well as the broad societal movement towards fascism…all of this contributed to my withdrawal from the world. Panic Attacks….and less intense Anxiety Attacks…I was bewildered by this. The Rightward turn of the country was particularly acute out here, in rural Texas. My inherent Anomalousness was more glaring than ever…and made ever worse by the drive to Understand what all was happening. The more I learned, it seemed, about the world…the more anomalous I became.

In decent times, Americans have a penchant for denial, and a general Fear of the Other…the different. In hard, confusing times, this Penchant grows worse.

And here is me….Anomaly, personified.

The long term feeling (not unwarranted) that I do not Belong…was confirmed at every turn. I withdrew.

By this time, my legs, etc had deteriorated to the extent that I could no longer work…and this increased my Isolation…self-reinforcing loops. Not only was it Physically Painful(and scary) to go among the Mundanes(I walk funny, and fall down)…it was often Psychologically Painful(and terrifying).(I cannot fathom “small talk”, and no one seems to understand what I think about.)

Now, life is all about avoiding Triggers…I cannot go to basketball games, for instance. I abhor long trips, especially back “Home”…too much memory and associations. ….Dionysius comes to attempt to relieve the pressure…

It usually fails.

After a Dionysian Drunken Revel, I often won’t leave the house(the depressive phase).

I wallow in self loathing…and drown in a well of self pity…and wonder what Dionysius did, while Apollo was away.

All of this is made more intolerable by the Far Place I find myself stuck in…like a moth in a web. If the country , as a whole, is intolerant(in varying degrees) to Anomalousness…a Podunk Texas Town is even worse. For 10 years, the folks around here have been instructed by Fox to Fear the Other.(there is no other “news”, is there?)

I know myself to be Other….and when I lift the basket from my Shining Mind, it is apparently apparent to them that I am Other.lol.

Ergo, I am a Hermit.

And try really hard to suppress the Dionysian Urge for Release.

I have been only moderately successful in this endeavor.

Apollo’s mouth is shut…knowing that Lofty Sentiments, Erudition, and even Logic, itself, are largely unwelcome in my part of 21^st Century Amerika…

Dionysius’ mouth is open…and all the pent up Rage, and Loneliness and Mike the Martian-hood…as well as the limiting effects of my Crippleness…burst forth, whether they are wanted , or not.

Something Hidden

Several years ago, my Dad gave me a canoe.

He figgered he was getting a little long in the tooth for such exertion, and had other watercraft, anyway.

I live between two relatively pristine rivers…the Llano, and the San Saba…that appear to be made for such things. Around the same time, also thanks to Dad, I got really into Fly Fishing….for which our Rivers are also made.

This was a year or two before my legs finally went, although, at the time, I still worked, and could as yet get around pretty good. I was aware of the approaching Disability, though…and I think that this awareness played a large part in my drive for Exploration…I became something of a Fanatic for the Rivers…especially the Llano.

There is a stretch, about 10 miles, of the Llano…between White’s Crossing, and the 87 Bridge…that I came to know rather well. Massive cliffs of billion year old rock…deep pools, interrupted by rapids (Class I, and one or two Class II)…Green water in the pools, clear as air, in winter…Rock Garden at the lower end of My Stretch…Caves!...Overhangs…both with evidence of Smoke on the ceilings…I once found a Folsom Point, just lying there in a little pool.

There was never anyone else on the river, at the beginning…now, one can often be interrupted by a flotilla of kayaks…city people from a fly fishing club… staring at the naked hippie Fly Fisherman waist deep in Ladder Hole(essentially Wearing The River…lol).

I know My Stretch like the back of my hand….and even have the distinction of having performed the only Comprehensive Biological Survey(unpublished, alas) of that part of this River…at least that I can find.From Copepods to Crayfish to Minnows to Kingfishers to Ospreys…I kind of glossed over the Flora…I had intended to do a separate Survey of that.

I camped! Sometimes with my Older Son, and his buddies…but mostly alone. I have tried to make a point of camping over Spring Break…often when it’s still quite cold…and on Father’s Day…but as my Bones deteriorate, I find that I must bring more and more crap with me…this year, a damned mattress!(sucks getting Old and Broken)(This is designated my “Camping Mattress”) No more simple bedrolls, and sleeping on the ground…

Too, I fear the days of Exploration are over…at least by myself. I fear getting stuck…my hip could break…and there’s no cell service in the River.

A depressing development.

The feeling of floating down, straining to see around the next bend…

(“Something lost, Go and Find it…”)

I had intended to get a kayak(my canoe is sort of heavy), and go upriver to find the source…and to float the whole length of the River…and I have dreamed of a large Expedition…from Mason, all the way to Matagorda.Llano merges with the Colorado, in Kingsland…What a trip that would be!(about 2 months worth) Epic.

If I could film it…or even just take many pictures…it would have been a good coffee table book.

400+ miles, from White’s Crossing to the Mouth of the Colorado.

Oh , well…

I must be contented with what I Can do…it’s a month and a half till Spring Break…and I’m making lists of what I’ll need to stay at the Lion Tree, at Soldier’s Crossing, for 3 days, without inordinate Pain…

What used to be Jeremiah Johnson meets the African Queen...is now more like the Snows of Kilimanjaro.

Piojo.

Sitting naked by the fire, hair full of olio olive…to smother the theoretical little bastards.

My kindergartener brought them, along with his homework.

Fruitbasket turnover…wash all the bedding…now I’m on mine…

Pillows take such a long time….and they always feel wet, even when they’re not.

I’m amazed that there is still a social stigma to this…but not really surprised.

There are so many Zelda Fitzgerald wannabe’s…who must look down their noses at everyone, in order to maintain the fiction of self worth.

My hair is too long and thick, and flecked with grey, and white(and perhaps dandruff?) to determine the actual presence of arthropods….and I fear a reaction of some sort from pouring permethrin onto my scalp….so it’s old fashioned, Mediterranean Folk Remedies.

Wiki says that the safest, most effective countermeasure is working Vaseline into one’s hair, and letting it sit there for a day….

Visions of Robert Burns, in Church…

The DNA studies of Head and Body Lice, are very interesting…they were the same thing…the same critter, ere we began wearing clothes. Now, they are still essentially the same organism, but do not comingle…and only deign to mate under laboratory conditions.

Hemingway said,”The world is a fine place….and worth fighting for.”….and I agree.

Such Wonders.

Wages of …Sin?

How many times in my life have I coasted into town on fumes?

Here is where the Myth meets the Reality, in the starkest of terms.

When I began working, in 1985, I made $3.85/hour…

When I “Retired”, in 2006, it was $7.50.

Figuring in Inflation, thanks to the Fed’s handy calculator, just to stay even, I would have needed $7.85.

That’s with no Real wage increase, in almost a quarter century.

The Bosses seem to see no great problem with this…a Job is a Job is a Job….

But it’s not. I was a Chef/Kitchen Ninja…20+ years experience…

Yet, in my last “Real” job, as Kitchen Manager of a Café “Run” by a late middle aged Widow, who had been to the Manor born…Offering me $8 was presented as if she was doing me a favor.

I was made to feel Greedy when asking for a raise, after 7 months.

She ran the place into the ground…only her great wealth kept it animated, after it’s demise…

My salary worked out to $9/hour.

It was the most money I had made in my life.

One is supposed to love one’s country, without question…unless one, presumably, lives in France….but I cannot.

Aside from the Evil Foreign Policy we have visited on the world in the last century…aside from the sneaky machinations of Spooks, on “My Behalf”…my country has, long ago, abandoned it’s Poor, as well as the lower end it's Middle Class. Now, it’s putting the finishing touches on the abandonment of everyone else…save the Super Rich. Will it, one day, abandon them, as well?

The aphorisms and advice from my Grandfathers, was no longer applicable, even as they were uttered. Hard work, sacrifice, taking Pride in the Product of one’s Labor…all of this was Moot, at the beginning of my working life. Only no one could see it. It was right there, stinking on the factory floor, but we couldn’t see it…wouldn’t see it.

The lower levels saw it first….but no one listened. Those on the bottom rungs were simply not working hard enough…or were spending beyond their means…or were drug addicted lazybones. Let them join the Legions, get some discipline…and a leg up. But the Legions were already, increasingly, relying on food stamps, and the like, themselves.

The Truth of the matter is that wages, across the board (except at the tippy top, of course) have been stagnant, relative to Inflation, since the mid-70’s. No one below the top 5%, or so, has had a real “Raise” in around 40 years…instead of Parity in Wages, we have all been encouraged and cajoled, and made desperate enough to fall for it, to “Take Advantage” of “Easy Credit” to make up the difference.

Official Numbers were cooked…Burger Flipping = Manufacturing, Steak= Hamburger,the Hiding of M3, Inflation didn’t include such luxuries as Food and Fuel, and folks like me, who fall off the back of the Hay Ride, are simply not counted, any more.

There are likely deep psychological reasons that so many are able to swallow this whole, while the Abyss grins.(see:Fromm)

The myths are clung to, like masses of fire ants (Invictus!), clambering atop their own dead, when the flood is come.

Perhaps this is due to the inclusion, in the Mythos,of the fallacy, that if you ain’t rich, it’s yer fault…God hates you, otherwise you’d be smiled upon, in the Marketplace( Hear, Oh Israel…). It doesn’t matter the circumstances, it’s you and your weathered bootstraps that are to blame…always. Welfare Queens in Cadillacs, Hawaiian Vacations paid for with Food Stamps (which no longer exist…it’s a debit card; and as fraud-proof as bureaucracy can make it), Lazy Stupid Drug Addicted (unwhite) Folks are so crafty that they routinely Game the System…and vote for those Librul Socialists in the Other Party(rats), who promise more largesse….wealth transfer from the deserving rich to the undeserving (unwhite) Poor….

It’s a fine narrative…and it was fine when it was first crafted in the mid-70’s(note the date), by a few rich white guys…

It is also total bull shit.

It carries as much Value as the current American Dollar.(around four cents, in 1913 $’s)

This is no big surprise(see the state of education in Economics, for elucidation. Economics= Balancing a Checkbook)…

What is a big surprise is that so many folks who have ,like me, fallen off the back of the wagon, still believe this…Evidence doesn’t matter. Math is a Librul Plot. It’s Socialism.(??!!)

This is Psychological…if we begin to admit that we, too, are fallen behind…that we, too, have spent beyond our means, that we’ve been suckered into upside down mortgages, just like the Evil Poor…that our kids will Not have it better than we did….then, under the Mythos, We are solely to blame. The Wages of Sin are Just, after all…and we must’ve sinned mightily…to be counted among those Untermenschen…

….and yet it still has to be, somehow, somebody else’s fault…likely the Great Librul Conspiracy, between the Poor and the Librul Elite, and Hollywood…and….France!

I never intended for this to be one of my favorite quotes…the man was the epitome of Evil, after all…but credit, where credit’s due; “What luck for the rulers, that Men do not think”.- Adolph Hitler.

Age of Release

Winter. Rainy and cold, yesterday…now it’s sunny….and colder. I cannot get warm…the cold has entered my bones. I feel as if I’m stacked wrong.
I’m Painful…Exhausted(I don’t sleep)….and Terminally Bored.

I’m thinking about Cold Frames…intending to construct a few at the earliest opportunity…weather and bones, permitting.

I feel a great Urgency to do this, and many other things…

This is not the run of the mill 2012-ism…that’s just one of myriad threads that make up this cloth…

The Framework I’ve been working on…of which this little Blog is like gliding on cloudtops…has turned out to be more accurate than the Conventional Wisdom Version….

Came across a less Drunken Poet Exposition of what I’ve been trying to point to…(http://www.dharmagaians.org/6-2.PosDis.html)

Interesting site…I agree, totally.

I’ve been re-reading Eisler’s “Chalice and Blade”…it’s the current Truck Book(kept in the truck for when I have to wait)…the Dominator/Cooperator Dichotomy is one of the foundations of the Framework…beyond L/R, D/R, Lib/Con…even beyond the idea of Progressive vs. Regressive….these are all too Simplistic…and too prone to manipulation…that Colonization of Memes….

The Fight is between the Dominator Paradigm, that has dominated for 4-7 thousand years, and has culminated in Us….and the Cooperator Paradigm that has been subdued, raped and pressed into slavery.

We’re all Indians, now…(R. Means?)

Clif High, I notice, is being more forthright than ever…and so much less cryptic…this, in itself, says volumes.

The End of the Dominator Paradigm, this March, according to Clif’s Spiders…seen in “Modelspace” as an end to Tension Building Language….and then Release Language stretching out for as far as Modelspace will go…

The Violent Parasitical Elite require Tension Building, in order to keep Us asleep and docile. I look around, and note that there seems to be a lot of Waking Up going on….must be very worrisome for the Machine.

The God, after Millennia of escaping his ordained Fate,… to be Sacrificed, so that the World can be Reborn…is caught in his own web…Goddess strikes the match…without Malice, but because it must be so.

There is a Unitive Thread to Things…I see it in Star Wars, in LOTR, in the Mythology of the world, and in the Mundane Political Philosophies, that seem to come and go….

Arthurian Romance , the demonisation of All Things Liberal…

…and now, at the End, the Machine is attempting to Fence Everything in to it’s Paradigm, it’s System of Belief…Too many have escaped…

Machine will destroy itself.

It reached too far, and the bough is breaking.

Perpetual Growth, on a Finite World…it’s telling that so many are surprised…and remain in Denial.