brendanmd

I need to write.

2008-07-24T03:01:00Z

But I have no inspiration. I've asked for it before, but does anyone have any suggestions?

Things to write about, rants of mine they'd like converted to text, or just general advice to remove writer's block? Anything would be appreciated.

The New Silent Generation

2007-02-27T19:46:30Z

The original Silent Generation was the generation born between 1925 and 1942. As a whole the generation was "withdrawn, cautious, unimaginative, unadventurous and silent." They came of age too late to be war heroes, and too early to be free spirits. These are of course broad generalizations, as people like like Paul McCartney, John Lennon, Bob Dylan, Hunter S. Thompson, Jimi Hendrix and Jerry Garcia wore born during the period, and undeniably fostered social change in the 1960's and beyond. However, they were the movers and shakers. They responded to the inaction of their generation, and they were mentors to the baby boomers, rather than being peers.

They are the ones who came to their primes during the late forties and early fifties, solidifying the social structure and norms established by their predecessors. They took up the arms of their fathers in the Korean War, which was fought to a tie. According to David Foot, the best year to be born in America was 1938, at least in terms of economic success. But this only furthers the idea. It's a stable average, it's a silent generation that does not create an impact on society in any form. They're a bookmark between real generations.

It's been proposed that the generation born in the late nineties or early twenty-first century is the New Silent Generation, but I believe the marker goes back further than that. I believe my birth-peers are the New Silent Generation. . We lack the cynicism, lack of beliefs and trust in traditional values that characterized Generation X, but we still cling to their traditions, like body piercings, tattoos, grunge rock, overeducation and underachievment. Growing up we didn't think of the dangers of communism, and we only watched MTV because it used to be cool.

However, we're not the generation that will revolutionize the world having grown up with the internet and cell phones. These were technological innovations that started becoming standardized during our transition from childhood and adulthood. We remember the popularization of internet and cell phones, as it characterized our growth into adulthood.

We are the meaningless choice generation. The generation that feels the need to define themselves with the trappings of the generations that surround us, without the meaning behind it. We're devotely political, though we won't do anything to further political agendas other than bitch. We're the voters who, despite all of the screams about dubya being a moron, showed up to the elections in record-low numbers for his second term. We dye our hair and get tattoos and piercings, not because they indicate our seperation from the state, but because they're acceptable now, and still have a tinge of rebellion. We grew up too late for punk rock to have meaning, so we listened to Blink 182 and made pop punk what it is today. We're the standardizing generation, too meek to try out anything new, but more than willing to hop on every bandwagon that rolls around.

The New Silent Generation has nothing to say, but needs to speak loudly to say it.

Four Dimensional Universe

2007-02-10T00:21:52Z

When I stare into the sky, listen to the rain, or just try to exist in a natural state with my environment, I consider the nature of connection in a universal where I think personal connections largely exist in four dimensions. And no, that does not include time.

What I mean is that there's more to life than we see. There are nuances and complexities that cannot be explained through traditional logical means. The universe functions in ways that are incomprehensible to us. We use science to try and explain causality in all affairs, but our inherent perceptions of the universe are flawed and biased. We're trapped in our bodies, and more importantly in our own minds and souls. Just because humanity has the inability to explain something does not mean its unable to be explained, it means we lack the capabilities to see the way things really work.

Okay, that's a bit more obtuse than I intended for it to be.

We understand why things happen. We understand that chemical reactions occur, that stars live and die. We understand how matter behaves in a basic, scientific manner. We know that if we put certain elements into a certain enviroment, certain reactions will occur. That's science. Predictable, explainable results. But we don't understand WHY these things happen. While we can explain that Hydrogen and Oxygen combine to form water, and can explain it's because of covalent bonding, we lack an explanation of WHY covalent bonding works. We assume covalent bonds have worked in the same way from the beginning of time to the present date, and will continue to function in a similar manner tomorrow. But we never know for sure, because there comes a point where science fails us. Where faith is required. It may be rational faith, but it's faith. If you're looking for flaws in the above example, they're readily apparent. Don't post a comment about a further explanation. Just pretend I posted a response asking you to explain the explanation, then explain that explanation, and so on and so forth.

Or for the calculus inclined amongst us, I like to think of it as taking the limit of science. But that might be more art than science.

To get back to the original point, the universe works in unfathomable ways. Call it whatever you like, but everything cannot be explained with science. In this way, I believe there is a fourth dimension dictating the behavior of our lives, and the universe in general. Sometimes we feel a connection to individuals we cannot explain. Even if there aren't any rational factors for the connection, they exist. Hell, even if there are rational feelings for the connection, everyone has a point where their feelings of connection to an individual exceed what can be explained. There's just something there.

To provide a literal, more "understandable" interpretation imagine a room with all of humankind in it. This is a three dimensional interpretation of the fourth dimension. I'll be sitting in a corner. As people wander around the room, I watch them. Occasionally someone approaches me, whether through direction action, because they're walking away from something else, or because they're just wandering. And sometimes they'll stick around, getting close to me. The rest of the room might be miles away, but these people are close to me. And since these are fourth dimensional physics. it's entirely possible for someone to be close to me and be close to someone I'm entirely far away from. But their manifest representations in the three dimensional universe we live in, can be perceived in terms of connection. Not necessarily emotional, but something more. Something. And obviously the fourth dimension does not exist in isolation, the effects of the three dimensions we understand can have ramifications in the other world. Lose your job, and who knows what the representation will be in the other world. It might be a slight change of pace, a shove in one direction, or nothing at all, much in the same way that moving up or down CAN influence whether or not you move in one of the cardinal directions, it depends on the conditions of the world you're in at the moment.

My rendition of reality is just a fragment inside of my soul. My eyes are closed, my head is spinning and I don't know.

I don't know.

A matter of Brains

2007-01-23T09:57:27Z

Some people always argue in favor of mother nature. They think mushrooms are better than acid because they're "natural." Honk honk! Welcome to reality! You're a moron! Man spends time to develop and improve upon natures existing creations. If you think the natural version is better, it's probably because you're just not into the ideal. People are aware. People manipulate. People create their own environment. As a society we're able to manipulate it directly with money. And while chinchillas probably wouldn't worry much about fur coats, I'm sure as fuck they'd like to manipulate their environment enough to not be killed for their fur.

The problem is the view of nature is too limited. Because mother nature happens to provide you with some thing that provides a lot of the things you like, it's natural. What the fuck? The universe allowed some cosmic processes to happen and suddenly a smiling mother figure. The same mother figure could just as well be mother nature choking her little Asian baby with tsunamai in the background. Mother nature is a force in the universe. She is not necessarily aware of us as lesser forces, nor being able to combat it. It would be like trying to imagine the germs inside your body. Just because it's in your body doesn't mean you're fond of it and want to keep it around. It's how it affects you. And how it affects you isn't its fault, it's just watching out for itself. If that happens to make something it doesn't even comprehend, it's not good or evil. It's just acting in its own self interest. And if it could communicate with it's fellow germs I very greatly doubt it would argue that the human body had a benign presence towards it, or would really care about you beyond your usefulness.

No, the point because "nature" is just a series of processes we aren't able to manipulate. We can point to where we have established dominance, and displayed our graciousness in the ability where we allow nature to survive. Once we shine the light of science on our environment, the smaller the shadows that look like nature survive. But we'll take the limits of the shadow every time. Nature is only useful to have around until we outgrow its usefulness. An important thing to note, however, is that emotional attachment DOES happen. I don't really want to live in a space station, but there'd be a point where things would become so Blade-runner esque I'd want to leave. Don't forget everything has a life, where it is affected by forces beyond (or beneath) its understanding. For us to be attribute any characteristic to a germ, would be conceptually the same as trying to apply it to earth. Large, small, both by their scientific names, lifespan, and so on. But "good or evil" don't fit the bill.

And there COULD be forces beyond (or above, or beneath) our understanding that COULD be seen as good or evil. Who knows why? To them our lives could be lightbulbs. On one level of existence, our lives could literally be fuses being blown out. Point being, it doesn't have to make any sense, necessarily. It's a fucking higher level of being, it MAY be beyond our comprehension. Try to dig that for a second, our levels of relative power are so different its basic motivations dont make sense. And because of this, some things might have it out for us, and some might want to look out for us. And those reasons might be fluid. So, yeah, conceptual beings COULD have good and evil applied to them in a limited sense.

But Mother Earth is not one of them. If it's natural and it's better, that's fucking cool. But I think more often than not we can manipulate our environment enough to at least slightly improve what's handed to us. So if mother nature is that fucking cool, go become one of those raw food fucks. Or, even better, let me act as a force of nature and blow your brains out, since you're obviously not using them. Delicious, jellomeat brains.

Fortune Cookies

2007-01-09T12:34:26Z

I cracked the fortune cookie in half, and proceeded to shove its crumbling remains in my mouth as I unfolded my fortune.

"A friend will bring you a big surprise soon."

Immediately my heart sank. Surprises never work out. Surprises are never good. Even if the cookie wasn't hitting my true fortune, the possibility of it being even vaguely correct upset me. The cookie was mocking me with shit wrapped in goodwill and a larking attitude. So I rummaged through the Chinese food bag to find a fortune that might rival the other one. Maybe something that reinforced the status quo. I grabbed another cookie and repeated the process.

"Your heart will always make itself known through your words."

Damnit! Worse than before!

Wait, that's not even a fortune! The cookies are lined against me with their deliciousness! They know I'll never crack one open without overanalyzing the words inside. Call it superstition, chalk it up to my ability to remember inane details, or call it a self fulfilling prophecy, but the majority of my fortunes seem accurate.

What if I don't want my heart to make itself known through my words? What if I'd like my blackened heart to stay tied to the slab where the serpent drips poison on it? My brain didn't put an end to its mischief and tomfoolery only to have it express itself through my words all the day. That's where my brain is supposed to have control of the situation, thank you very much.

What if I don't LIKE my heart? What if I'm in purposeful opposition to everything it stands for? What if my heart is the thing that makes me question how I can be given free will yet be yet morally responsible?

My brain certainly doesn't turn my words into the angry, negative, angst-filled drek that my posts so often devolve into. That's my fucking heart. My brain makes sure the table is covered with a nice placemat, beautiful flowers and delicious metaphorical appetizers so it doesn't taste like so much shit when you get to the main course.

Oh fuck it, I'm already too embroiled in unrelated metaphors that reek of irony to even go any further.

The title is a bit of a foregone conclusion.

2007-01-04T17:07:19Z

I'm just going to exhale until I die.

Choice words which were probably not given very much thought by their speaker. But as usual such things have a way of sticking with me.

My sleep schedule is beyond fucked up. I'm falling asleep asleep at six PM in my clothes, then not waking up until 1 AM. Then I'm awake for an indeterminate amount of time, until I just randomly fall asleep again. Lethargy just overcomes me like a tsunami of molasses, and I'm unable to get away from its enveloping presence. I'd like to be able to make the claim that I'm only sleeping X number of hours a day, but I honestly don't even know. I'd say I'm living the nocturnal lifestyle but that's not quite right.

Is there a way to express a sleeping schedule that's completely irregular in its behaviors? My circadian rythmn is like an einsturzende neubauten album. The other day I was up for thirty hours. Then I fell asleep. I slept for four, then woke up perfectly rested. Then I wasted five or six hours, and fell asleep again for eight or so. And this is sobriety talking.

In short, my blog has grown declaratory and descriptive, as opposed to analytical. Wait, the previous statement is self-defeating. Good job, Brendan. Or did my lack of explanation of analysis show it to not be self-defeating. Oh fuck it.

I'm just going to exhale until I die.

Organic fucking response? This is my organic response. I don't feel like I have shit to say. My ideas are blase and banal. I have to further modify my own words because of the sheer ennui I feel when talking about my own thoughts. I might not have anything worth saying, but goddamn it. At least I sound good while I'm saying it. Now if I could say it three different languages I'd be a fluorescent beacon of our overeducated but underthinking generation. That our is all inclusive. We've reached critical mass as a society of thinkers, and thought has transcended the need for itself. Now there is only be. Hollow embodiment of intellectual concepts are fine, because chances are no one understands them anyway. As long as everyone can agree that life is a self-fulfilling prophecy if someone's life follows a self-predictive course, regardless of the overwhelming conditional evidence otherwise, we can all nod at each other and grin at our keen intellect.

And don't forget, you really are better than all of your friends.

But if that's the case, why are you friends with them?

Oh fuck, this is what happens when I'm awake at nine am. Someone inject my veins full of sedatives and tranquilizers so I can fall back into my dreams. Where analysis and explanation are foregone conclusions so enjoying the atmosphere becomes joy in itself. No logical center of the brain trying to eat its own tale, just non-thinking bliss. Bliss is too strong of a word. Satisfaction, but not in the usual meaning of the word.

Satisfaction like after several hours of great sex, where you just lie in bed while the endorphines march through your blood bestowing every cell in your body with perfect satisfaction. Except replace the sexual metaphor with some sort of cerebral concept.

What I'm trying to say is I don't even know where I'm going with this anymore. I feel like a metaphorical machine, but I lack an original design.

That metaphorical machine thing is a metaphor on a few levels. I don't like to tip my hat to the context of a lot of my stuff, but I'm particularly proud of it. Just enjoy it for that feeling of circuitous deja veux and the creeping sense that you don't quite get what I'm saying, but you understand enough to play along.

I'm just going to exhale until I die.

brendanmd @ 2006-12-08T03:49:00

2006-12-08T03:49:05Z

Livejournal is dead.

Goddamnit.

Spider

2006-11-09T17:58:04Z

My strongest emotional reaction in a long time? Finding out someone stepped on my spider.

There was an enormous spiderweb outside of my porch. It spanned across several bushes, and the spider has been steadily growing since I arrived. It was so noticeable people would come by my apartment and stare at the web for several minutes before leaving. Some reacted with disgust, some with fascination, and some probably contemplated knocking it down.

It was absolutely beautiful, watching her spin her webs. She was so meticulous, so focused on anchoring it in multiple places and establishing a multi layered, strong web. Shed work on it all night, and it was a joy to watch her work. It was a portion of nature I could admire in its joy. I kept telling myself I was going to take pictures of her one of these days. But I'd been lazy and not done so, assuming it would always be there tomorrow.

Today as I was walking back to my apartment from lunch I noticed she wasn't in her usual spot. I thought it odd, but she leaves her web every once and a while to lay foundations elsewhere so I didn't question it much. As I was walking out a few minutes ago I noticed her squashed on the concrete, and ants eating her body. I might have stepped on her. I don't even know. Why was she on the ground? Her web was intact. Theres no reason she should have been down there.

I feel like I've lost a lifelong pet or something, even though I've only been around her for two months. I don't know what to do with the web, and my digital camera doesn't have any batteries.

Goddamnit. This is one of the lamest things that could have happened today.

brendanmd @ 2006-11-09T09:11:00

2006-11-09T09:11:49Z

Fuck the daytime. I want to be awake during the night, when people are absent and the harsh florida sun is nowhere to be seen. When the more interesting people are up and about, and I don't have to listen to my neighbors practice their shitty instruments.

Oh, wait. It's hard to find anyone who's up and about anymore. Especially since I can't drive. My life is a cornucopia of delight. A little longer and I should be able to focus my scathing bitterness into a railroad spike to jam inside your brain.

Beginnings

2006-11-07T08:34:03Z

I need to change my enviroment. Jacksonville is not the place for me. Hell, Florida isn't the place for me. But I don't know where to go. I feel a calling towards Seattle, for some unfathomable reason. Probably just an inevitable wanderlust kicking in, forcing action in some sort of way. Complacency breeds contentment, and being content is more despicable than being miserable. I loath my contentness more than I loathe my misery. Give me mood swings, give me wretched sadness and loathing, but don't make me the walking dead. If I die I die, but I'd rather embrace living than live a half-dead existence. Which, in retrospect, seems ironic.

There's too much turmoil in my head, but it's still the best port in the storm. It has all my favorite indulgences, and all of the greatest risks. If I could suck myself into my own head I'd be filled with alternating states of joy and misery. It'd be a wonderland of morbidity and self-actualization. It's too bad I don't possess any artistic ability. I think expressing myself outside of words would be a pleasant change of pace. I'd probably learn something.

Maybe I'll change my mind. Change my perspective and my outlook, but I doubt it. I'm a nihilistic mystic and a casual abuser. I'm grounded in reality so far I can barely see my dreams anymore. And unless my brain pulls itself out of its proverbial ass I doubt that will ever change. My brainshit seems preferrable to most conversational feasts.

Welcome one and all to the show that never ends.