Things and Stuff

"No way," you say, "not a BLOG UPDATE."

These things, they happen.

Whenever I write things like blog posts, I write about what I'm thinking about. These days, I just try to avoid thinking about things, hence I haven't written any blog posts in a while. There exists a remarkable number of ways to completely shut out active thinking in this modern age. All I have to do is immerse myself in any of quite a few mind-numbing trivialities, and I can pass the time between when I wake up in the morning and when I go to sleep at night and enjoy myself at the same time. It's not exactly a fulfilling existence, but on the other hand it's actually quite pleasant.

Unfortunately, these nagging thoughts crop up during the times where I can't distract myself, especially when I'm in the shower or in the car. I've always used shower time as philosophy time, and music from my CD player is easily relegated to the background during my commute. So I still have some times where my mind wanders. And I think to myself, what exactly am I doing with my life? What's my goal?

Well, I don't have one. I'm not a goal-oriented person I guess. I have the vague understanding that I'm not where I want to be, but it's vague because I don't know what "where I want to be" is. At least, I think I don't know. Sometimes I wonder what I would be like to just pick up and go somewhere else, just to start all over like a real life game of Minecraft survival mode, except one with existing infrastructure and actual jobs instead of chopping trees with my bare fists.

I'm like a kiddie pool full of water--potentially useful, but stagnant because it's been so long since I've bothered to dump it out and clean it and put fresh water in. Wow, that analogy works way too well. I think I've finally realized that you can't use bitterness and anger as a coping mechanism, but now that I've realized it I've got to find a way to come to terms with some things. That's the tricky part, the thing that I'm avoiding, the proverbial toad that I don't want to swallow.

It's time for a quick aside on that last euphemism. Possibly one of the best pieces of advice I've received from another person was a rather strange one: swallow the toad. In my second-to-last semester of college, the spring semester of my senior year (because I completely nuked the fall semester and failed every one of my four classes, in case whoever chances to read this isn't aware) I was in a capstone class, which was a big group project that spanned the entire semester. About midway through, I started to flake on my group--I was that guy, yes--because I was a terrible student and an irresponsible person and I also thought I had nothing useful to contribute to the group. My professor caught wind of this from my group, and called me into his office for a private talk. 

He was visibly angry, and I didn't want to be anywhere near that office. I gave my weak explanation that I'd had a lot of personal stuff happen and I wasn't in a good place (which was true, but also worthlessly vague), and my professor was extremely understanding. He knew my exact predicament: things were starting to spiral out of control, because each time I encountered something difficult or daunting, I stuck my head in the sand to avoid it. "Swallow the toad," he said. What he meant was to take that difficult, ugly thing I had to do and just get it over with. Every day, to look at that thing I was really dreading, and just do it without pausing to consider its unpleasantness.My first step was to apologize to my group for being a useless group mate and move forward from there. I think this might be the singular thing I took away from any of my college classes. I wasn't one of those people that ever knew professors on a personal level, but I'm glad this one took the time to see a problem and talk with me one-on-one.

What I've come to realize is, instead of swallowing all the toads in my life, I've been finding other ways to avoid their unpleasantness. I want to just get it all over with, but it's hard. They're ugly. I'm afraid of the reactions. I know those things shouldn't matter, that I should do the things that are right to do, but I struggle with it. Maybe this writing will prove to be an exercise in moving closer to doing what I need to do. Maybe I'll spend some more time crippled by doubt and indecision. I don't know. But these things are catching up to me too quickly, and driving my life into the middle of nowhere. On the way I can find the driving enjoyable, sure, but the fact that it doesn't lead to anything useful means it's just a waste of time.

Whew, that was cathartic. I think I need some lunch now.

Rose-Tinted Baseball

I was really hoping that just starting a new blog post would give me some ideas. I only have my best ideas when I'm completely unable to write them down (typically in the shower or in the car).

I've decided that I'm entirely too topical about blog posts. Usually I end up coming here to vent about some current issue that's bugging me, but I'm tired of doing that (and there are too many issues bugging me at any given time). I'm putting away my soapbox, at least for the time being.

I was sitting on the couch last night, just listening to some music and really wanting to go to Cook Park to go on the swings. That's something I haven't done in quite a while. It would be like a throwback to summers past, when I spent a lot of my time at Cook Park.

Actually, that reminds me of something that's really quite sad: I don't miss announcing at Colonie Little League. I mean, in a sentimental sense I do. I used to really love going to the park and watching the games. But I'm glad I got out, and I actually think I stayed at least a year too long. That place is a depressing shell of what it used to be. By external appearances, it's just dandy; there's a nice new scoreboard, some bigger bleachers, fresh uniforms that have individualized player names on the back. But that's all there is to it. It's shallow. It's evident that no one cares. The level of competitiveness is pathetic. Few children are actually learning how to play baseball. Player participation is low, which is obvious from the number of teams that have been cut over just a single year. In 2004 there were ten teams in the Major division, and eight in the Intermediates. Now there are six and four, respectively. The Pee-Wee division used to have kids pitching, striking out batters by their own effort, or walking them. Now the coaches have to step in to help, once the pitcher throws four balls. From time to time they would make double plays and hit home runs. Eight- and nine-year-old kids, and their coaches, used to bring their A-game to the field. And this is not just nostalgia. I played in the league for eight years, and stuck around to watch for the next twelve. I've seen what kids are capable of doing on the field.

Contrary to what might seem like common sense, high-scoring games are the mark of really bad teams, not really good ones. I can name exactly one game where an incredibly dominant team played a very good team and won in a massive blowout, and that was in 2009 when Vellano Brothers beat VFW by a score of something like 21-3. And that was due to no fault of VFW's; Vellano Brothers simply had some of the most terrifyingly good hitters I have ever seen, and their pitching staff was brutally effective.

It's not like that anymore. That's the glorious past, something I don't expect to ever see again. In some ways, this is a weird parallel for how life feels, though not necessarily how it goes. I know we tend to look at the past through rose-tinted glasses. (The difference, of course, is that I have every single scorebook I kept between 2005 and 2011. I have physical records that paint a picture of the decline of Colonie baseball. It's not just my memory reconstructing things differently than they actually were.) But it's still sad, and sometimes I really do wonder if the unreachable past really was the best life was ever going to get. And I'm not just speaking on a personal scale. I don't like a lot of what's going on in the world around me. Things are downright discouraging. I honestly don't know what I can do to make things look better for moving forward.

I want to just go on the swings, like I used to do, but I know that won't change a thing. Trying to emulate the past won't just bring it back. I'm unhappy. I'm bored. I want something more out of life, like that feeling of moving up in the world that I got in the summer of 2008 when I first worked a full-time job. I want some...thing, some ineffable thing that will make me feel like I'm actually living, not just coasting along from one day to the next, ever anticipating the coming weekend. And no, I'm not depressed. I'm just dissatisfied. Restless. Unfulfilled.

I'm open to suggestions, by the way. You know, if somebody actually reads this.

...Without Using Your Worldview to Support Your Claims

I see the following exchange archetype often these days:

Person A: I don't support Position X.

Person B: Why don't you support  Position X? Give me reasons, without using religion/a holy book or morality.

This is such an intellectually dishonest demand to make in a discussion. Basically, what it means is "I'm going to use my worldview when defending my position, but you are not allowed to use your worldview when defending your position." It's a blanket assertion on the part of Person B that their worldview is automatically superior or correct, while Person A's worldview is automatically inferior or incorrect. Hilariously (and frustratingly), this crops up in discussions of, shall we say, morally ambiguous topics in which the most common defense of Position X is the delightfully post-modern claim that morality is relative, situational, and individual.A little critical thought reveals that this is extremely hypocritical; on the one hand, Position X is acceptable because "what's right for you may not be what's right for me," but on the other hand only certain worldviews are allowed in discussion. Wait, what happened to relativity? Why are we suddenly refusing to respect and allow certain opinions?

Because thought experiments are fun, let's assume that religion is a lie, God does not exist, and holy books are the product of crazy/profiteering/sociopathic men thousands of years ago.

Why am I sitting here, right now, typing this? Why am I convinced, to the point of borderline depravity, of the truth of these things that are false? Why can I not willingly disbelieve in these things which are erroneous? I am governed by rationality  to a large degree, yet this one area in particular seems to have failed me. A combination of my biological composition and my environment have put me in this inescapable position. How, exactly, am I to be blamed for my condition? I am only thinking and believing in accordance with what is natural to me. For whatever indiscernible reason, I am following my genetic predisposition. Furthermore, I have no way of even knowing that my beliefs are erroneous, because no evidence seems sufficient to convince me thus. This is, as far as I can tell, an integral part of my personal identity. How then can I not use it as the basis for my stance on Position X? Must I deny my own identity in order to participate in discussion and draw conclusions?

Clearly this is absurd. The jury is still out on whether God exists, whether any religion is true, and whether holy books are divine inspiration. Hence the terms "belief" and "faith." But as long as the jury is still out (we'll find out when we die), any position drawn reasonably from faith is perfectly valid. There is no basis for excluding respectful, polite, and reasoned argument from an honest discussion. No point is automatically ignorant, hateful, bigoted, or apathetic because it stems from religious belief.Contrary to what is often claimed, anyone who uses Person B's "without using your worldview to support your claim" argument is immediately identifying oneself as the more closed-minded party in the discussion.

If you want to debate, feel free. Just don't insult my intelligence by expecting me not to argue from my worldview. That's utter nonsense.