If You Mess With the Bull. . . .

Two bulls are standing on top of a hill; a young bull and a much older bull. They're looking over a herd of cows, and the younger bull says, "Let's run down there and fuck ourselves one of them cows!"

From time to time I recall moments and experiences that at the time seemed fairly innocuous to only later realize how they predict my behavior now. I recall sometime early in the First Grade my homeroom teacher, Mrs. Grosgritz passed us a lesson on sharing or something that I took as one of learning when to pick my battles and not to be whipped into a fervor by another’s arbitrary whim.

The teacher had us all stand in a circle, a class of some 20 kids and she stood in the middle holding a candybar high above her head. She paced the circle discussing loudly what she was going to do; her plan was to throw this candybar into the circle. Each would have a fair chance at getting it and whomever got it, got to keep it. She stepped out of what was now a ring, and tossed the confection in.

The whole class immediately descended, save myself and one other. I just recall standing there watching this scene unfold as twenty some-odd kids fought and struggled to wrest the candybar from one another. I don’t recall the other kids rationale, but after Mrs. Grosgritz broke the pile she asked us why we didn’t involve ourselves. “I just didn’t see the point in doing that over a candybar,” I said (or at least something like that). The best part was that the kid who ended up with the candybar had little more than something resembling a turd, smashed in a wrapper. He won, but for what?

Why this comes up is because I see this same behavior daily on a greater scale when commuting via the train between work and home.

The older bull replies, "How about we walk down there and fuck 'em all?"

Near everyday I watch this situation unfold. I get to the train station in time to see the train pull up as I pull my briefcase from my car. In the same parking lot I see a few heads pop up and about a half dozen men and women break in a dead run to catch the train. I open my briefcase, drop my keys in, grab my iPod and start walking to the platform. I usually get there in time to see the train pull away. I pull a smoke from my pocket, and I wait. During this time of the morning I’ll have the platform to myself. I don’t worry; the next train is in 10 minutes. That’s the train I’m there for anyway, I just like being early.

Also near everyday I see the same situation, but in some ways better. I’ll catch the bus over to the station. The tension on those things can be brutal. It’s not sourced from some thug sitting in the back polishing his brass knuckles or counting the contents of his last victims wallet; it’s men and women in ties and dresses sitting there grumbling, pensively watching the road as if by shear power of will they can control the destinies of those around them.

As we arrive at the station, two trains stand idling; one leaves any moment; the other in about ten minutes. Of course once the doors to the bus open most all break into that dead run for the train that leaves first. I boarded that train a couple of times; you have relatively no choice in seating arrangement. If one is available, it’s generally on the sunny side of the car and the whole thing is full of persons that look at each other with a yardstick that measures who’s closer to god. I in turn go for the later train. I have my choice of seat and ride in fair comfort and I don’t really count those lost ten minutes as being lost.

I’ve seen coworkers get caught up in this; Glenn will stand there almost dancing at the bus stop with repeated looks down the street. He’ll near push his way onto the bus and is usually one of the first off when we get there. I’ve asked him in a backhanded manner what his motivation was, “What do you generally do after work?”

“Nothing really, just watch TV,” was his reply. Regardless of his elevated position at work, I see this behavior as aggressive, not dominant.

Another I’ve seen caught up in this game is an attractive, younger receptionist who works in another office named Amy. We’re generally on the same train in the morning and will often catch the same bus to our building. The train was late yesterday though and we missed our bus. Amy was intent on waiting the 20 minutes for the next, but I proposed an idea; any bus leaving the station stops in a relative proximity to the building where we both work. “Why not just take one of them and walk the distance?” I asked her. She looked at me with a raised brow and I added that she was already late; she really had nothing more to lose. She agreed and followed me.

We boarded a semi-random bus and were let off at Third South and Fourth West. “Oh we just take Third over to Second?” she asked.

“Even better,” I replied pointing towards Pierpont Avenue and set off walking. Amy quickly shed her heels and came up in tow. As we came up on Pierpont and Fourth I had her stop to see one of the many oases I have found in this city. A quick second later we were back on the move. I couldn’t help but watch how she walked: very focused with her eye to the horizon.

At one point I had to guide Amy off the beaten path to cut across the parking lot behind Java Joe’s. By now the backside of our building could be seen. Coming up on Third I was starting to figure a few things out about her. As we came to the sidewalk, just about mid-block, Amy turned and started heading for the cross walk. “Wait,” I said and directed her attention to see that with the exception of cars idling at either intersection, there was no traffic for about a hundred yards. “Sometimes jay-walking is the thing to do,” I said with a smile. She followed me across the road.

As we came upon the pay lot on the corner I mentioned to her that on the days I drive; this is where I have to park, a whole block away. Considering what I had observed and already knew about her, what she offered next was a bit of a surprise; “I’m supposed to, but I kinda cheat the system.” I inquired as to how and admittingly though resourceful her method was, I’m not finding it worth the risk of being ticketed and/or having my car impounded. I would like a better place to leave my car though. Indeed that could be a slippery slope.

The point here though isn’t one of sex, or even relationships. The point is, “What do you do with what you’ve been given and what do you give yourself?”

Destroying the self, one position at a time.

I lay there on the floor, spent, gasping for air, covered in sweat and surrounded by some symbolic puddle of the accumulated filth of an active weekend. I watched her cross the room towards me, slowly circling my body. We locked eyes and with a slight curl to her lips she said, “You did well this morning.”

I smiled back and ever so softly she offered her “Namasté” to the class and walked out the door.

“Namasté,” I replied. A voice so small that it was only heard inside my head as the gentle chorus rose from around me. I felt something in that moment: something genuine both within, and outside of myself. It was recognition of divinity. Not just me and not just the instructor. Through the class she had been little more than a manifest voice in my head. Her movement at the end was all that gave her away. I had a sudden awareness of being. I was suddenly aware of the woman to my left and the one behind me: the man to my right and the one in front of me. The two other women near the west wall and the other to the east, plus the men behind both of them. I realized I had lost myself in the moment and through the session had only suffered brief flashes of reality.

There is only one other time in my life I can remember anything close to that. The reality was like a skilled opiate; a morphine high. Endorphins. The conscious was like ecstasy; feeling the world pass through me and seeing richness of colors I had never seen before. Adrenaline. Nothing could describe how I felt by the end of class, but it soon became obvious to me that others saw it too.

We are all chained by fate....

This morning I woke up late; a friend needed a compassionate ear last night so I went. We met over coffee and I did what I do and stayed up late doing it. This morning though, I slept past both alarms. I figured last night that I was going to miss yoga, but nothing like this. I dressed and was out the door in no time. I arrived at the station just to watch the 7:15 train pull away. I could have gotten back in my car, drove to SLC and been to work easily within the hour.

I checked the schedule; the next train wasn’t for another half hour. It was late in the morning and I knew I had the place to myself for the next little while. Instead of racing to work I chose to appreciate what I had been given. The platform was empty. The morning was still. The air was quiet. The view of Freemont Island and Little Mountain, each bathed in soft morning desert pastels were beautiful. A subtle smell of alfalfa wafted the air and so much green speckled across the landscape provided strong contrast. The rising sun shed it’s light through broken clouds making an incredible show of light and shadow. And there it was, the day was handed to me.


Whereas many are unable to see the forest for the trees, my issue lately has been not seeing the trees for the forest. Not seeing and appreciating every little thought, deed or action that goes into manifesting the big picture. Although each of those elements holds beauty, none on its own could stage a scene so grand as what is provided when they work in concert.

We all have those moments when we realize a world outside of ourselves, but still we all mostly operate at the lower end of the The Great Chain of Being like the fish with rudimentary goals in mind; swim, feed, fuck. This is the evolution most people talk about, though few realize it. We are all capable of higher thinking, higher reasoning, a higher understanding of the world around us.

Humans are in an odd position on The Great Chain of Being. We can elevate or descend to exist anywhere on it. Beneath the fish are insects and the like then earth, but at our base level most humans are considered right there with the fish; swim, feed, fuck. If you examine those three actions you can see how much of our lives can be tied back to that. Every animals actions can be, it’s what we do beyond that which defines us.

Above the fish exist the domesticated flock animals: sheep, cows, etc. They almost entirely lack free will and allow man to exercise dominion over them.

Above them are the higher domesticated animals: horses, dogs, cats and the like. Domesticated still, yet servile in nature in that they perform specific functions in the service of man.

Higher still are the wild herd animals: deer, antelope, elk, bison. This group defies domestication, yet still has that issue of free will.

Then come the wild predators: cougars, bears, and wolves. Wolves have an exceptional characteristic of still being herd-like in their mentality; though in a way are much like man, but still the lower of the wild predators.

The latter group will consume any of the lower groups, including the only one higher, man. When this group or any lower attempts to reach beyond its place on the chain, it is still punished. Think what happens when any of these of it’s own volition attacks a human and you’ll know what I mean.

On the earthly level of The Great Chain of Being man sits on top, yet is able to figuratively exist by his manifest behavior with any of the lower, flesh made groups and as such people are often referred to as the animal they manifest: sheep, cow, dog, cougar, wolf. Deer (dear) could even be argued in there.

Beyond man of course are the purely ethereal beings: cherubim, seraphim, archangels then lastly, God. These groups are immutable on The Great Chain of Being and as such demonstrate that we are not meant to advance beyond that within our lifetimes, rather than strive to become one after death.

Man is the dichotomy between the spirit and the flesh. In life we can exist anywhere along The Great Chain of Being and it is the challenge of our condition to push past that and define ourselves on our own terms. Fundamentally that idea of elevating ourselves is the same across the board in all religions. We all have spiritual aspirations, but the flesh is made weak by the temptations of swim, feed, fuck and we fall right back down again.

On the surface it may not sound so hard but let’s polarize this with life. Think of swimming as travel; going from point A to B or just busying ourselves with any little distraction to keep from being made to be alone with ourselves.

Consider feeding as the endless consumerism that we all participate in. If you don’t believe me then go sit in a Starbuck’s and watch the artificial coffee snobs.

And fuck, well yes but that is only in part meant for sex. On the human level that is socializing in general, returning us to that need to not be left alone and surrounding ourselves with hollow relationships.

We all seem to be so deluded with this idea that was either need a large group, OR one or two, close intimate friends. In his book, ”The Art of Happiness,” the Dalai Lama discusses the concept of loneliness as one that perplexes him. He questions how one can truly find themselves lonely when we are all surrounded by friends, acquaintances or loved ones, any of which we are capable of cultivating a meaningful relationship with, and for those who speak under their breath, intimacy is not sex.

Another area this comes in at is the song, Stay Human by Spearhead (which some refer to as ”All the Freaky People,” by Michael Franti, same song, same group) in which he cites the same:

”…. isolation is a riddle
to be surrounded by a million other people
but feel alone like a tree in the desert…. ”

Yes the problem exists, but it’s not a physical issue so much as a spiritual one. Cherubim, seraphim, archangels, and God do not necessarily exist as icons to follow anymore. What does exist is you, and me: objects of the flesh who are real and tangible. We do have a responsibility to evolve, but that evolution isn’t towards some being of light; it’s evolving to being human and pulling yourself from the dirt to dust off the remains from yesterday.

We are built to do more than swim, feed and fuck; yet so many (sometimes myself included) seem perfectly content in that reality. I say don’t be! You’re more an animal when you do your best to blend in and join the herd and in reality the closest to being above man you’ll ever be on The Great Chain of Being is in those moments when you test yourself. We all know of the ugliness we’re capable of, but what about the beauty? You’ll never know until you try and testing that is where you will evolve.

So this woman from Mississippi walks into a bar. . .

Check out this email I received today. Of course I had to respond. This is the stuff that gives Chris a big rubbery one.

Sent by Ginger;

I typed in my address 1st and then I tried just the road I live on and got more results when I just put in my road.

Forwarded from Marianne;

This is VERY interesting! See who your neighbors are. After you type in your address, it pinpoints all the people close to your home that have been convicted of ANY felonies. Then you just click on the red pins/balloons on the map and it gives you the offenders name, age, and felony offense. Better to know than not.

http://www.felonspy.com/search.html



My Response:

Ginger (and everyone else);

The link is a nice graphic, but you still get better results by checking the states online sex offender registry. The unfortunate sides of both is that offenders don't always register as they're required to and that otherwise harmless behavior could cause one to be placed on there (think the kids in Farmington who were sending pictures of their own genitals to each other before you reply). Honestly I believe a large reason such criminals exist is because they have failed to socialize and see people as persons rather than objects.

To sum it all up, the list isn't all that accurate and really only promotes a form of vigilante justice which in some cases may be entirely unwarranted. If the individual is so concerned about the guy next door, how about we educate our children on what behaviors to avoid rather than living in fear. This is just another example of how our own government promotes a fear based society rather than one of individual and national growth.

Go outside, get to know your neighbors. When you see them, smile and say hi. Don't let the phrase, "How ya doin?" be used as a passing salutation. Most say it without realizing they've made an invitation for you to talk; use it. In turn don't offer some disgenuine reply; you've been asked a question, answer it!

Now I should offer the disclaimer that no I am not on there nor do I affiliate anyone who is. The reason though such things piss me off is that one; we have a criminal justice system that we pay for. Two; it is not necessarily applied correctly (again the kids in Farmington). Three; lists are never good. Sure today it's sex offenders and tomorrow it's all felons, then the mentally ill, the handicapped, the illegal immigrants...does any of this get your attention? It's all been done before. Next it was the Jews. It's about time YOU speak up for ANY of the disfranchised, because if YOU don't, who will? We're all in this together, and those don't see that will be left behind.

When the Nazis came for the communists,
I remained silent;
I was not a communist.

When they locked up the social democrats,
I remained silent;
I was not a social democrat.

When they came for the trade unionists,
I did not speak out;
I was not a trade unionist.

When they came for the Jews,
I remained silent;
I wasn't a Jew.

When they came for me,
there was no one left to speak out.

-Pastor Martin Niemöller

Anyway, so ends my rant.
Much Love,
Chris


Ginger forwarded my response to Marianne. Marianne replied via Ginger. Look what I started.

From Ginger;

Had to share her point of view.. See in MS your neighbors are miles from you.. Not in a standard neighborhood such as we are used to here in civilization! But she has her point too!

She's a great gal..


Forwarded from Marianne;

This is a felon finder an not everyone on it is a sex offender. I have kindappers and attempted murderers near me and that is info I like to know. Isn't it nice to be prepared for what lies in your surroundings instead of someone trying to harm you or your family and saying "Oh I wish I had known that person lived so close so I could have paid better attention to my surroundings".

igilantianism is not what I was thinking of in anyway when I forwarded this info, but the peace of mind we can all have knowing who surrounds us. And in no place on that site does it state being a tool for vigilatianism...I am all for people deserving a 2nd chance but think it best to be aware of my surroundings.

Disenfranchised? Are you kidding me? He is comparing the Jews to FELONS? Felons had a choice in what they did. The Jews were victims...

Feel free to pass this along...



I replied directly to Marianne this time and sent cc: to Ginger.

Marianne I appreciate your commentary. The right to express one's opinion is the cornerstone of society. The point that I make is not the direct relationship between Jews and felons. The relationship I define is that of once we make it acceptable to strip the rights of one group, it doesn't sting so much for the next. The "so long as it's not me," attitude is what I abhor. Those are identical stepping stones the Nazi's took in Germany; they started small with people society didn't like and slowly chipped away. Did you know that beyond the Jews, millions more regular Germans found the same fate, before them? The pattern was always the same too, you have to be registered and thus tracked. This is the same situation most gun owners fear with registering fire arms

The last line of that poem says, "When they came for me, there was no one left to speak out." reads the same as, "He who surrenders liberty in the name of security will have neither." (Benjamin Franklin). Once you strip liberty from one party, you unknowingly take it from yourself. In a world where our freedoms are chipped away at everyday, we have to fight for what what freedom still exists. Once it's gone it's not like they'll just give it back. A police state is not what the United States of America was built on. If I recall correctly it was "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." At least that's what it said on the Declaration of Independence.

One last thing regarding your comment on people saying if only they knew more about their surroundings; when my daughter was molested it was by a person who was on no such registry. Yeah the guy is one big piece of shit and life will deliver to him what he has earned. I get to hear about it every time he's released or gets sent back to prison and just as I respect you and your freedom to speak your mind regardless of actions or opinion, I will not impose myself or be grateful for another trampling on another's Forth Amendment Rights.

Yes we are guaranteed the life, liberty and the pursuits of happiness, but no one has the right to do so at the expense of another. Everyone has that right.

OK so I screwed up on my pronoun usage, but meh. . . points been made. I'm curious for what's next.



Ginger replies to her cc:

As prepared as we can make ourselves (with or without those sights) we can still fall victim to those awful things we try so hard to stay away from.

Are you a Republican? You seem to fit the part.. I can say I am more of a Libertarian... Not totally Republican .. Not totally Democratic and I really enjoy your input Chris!

Thanks for sharing..
Much admiration..
Ginger



My response to Ginger:

I'm neither Republican nor Democrat, Libertarian or anything else. I vote my conscience. So far I have argued against all sides. The Republicans want to keep their guns, but trash the Bill of Rights to make sure we're all sane and the state has the advantage. The Democrats seem to want to preserve the rights of the individual while leveling the playing field, which involves some losing their rights. Then there's the whole patronizing the Jesus fan base they do, I think it's all bullshit really. The only truth left to our system is what we started with.

Though perhaps similar to the core Libertarian ideals of Anarcho-Communism (seriously that's where that started) I would consider myself more a Prescriptive Constitutionalist as identified by philosopher Wil Waluchow, "the idea … that government can and should be legally limited in its powers, and that its authority depends on its observing these limitations. This idea brings with it a host of vexing questions of interest not only to legal scholars, but to anyone keen to explore the legal and philosophical foundations of the state."

I do enjoy Waluchow, but I mostly prefer John Locke and his Second Treatise of Government. Much early colonial and revolutionary though was based on this man's writing. The Constitution of the United States and the Declaration of Independence are both direct manifestation of his book and both actually contain much reference to it.

Politics should be more about a philosophy rather than an unwavering value. Things done in the name of "values" in this country is part of what cripples us. Things we do in other countries under the same banner only aggravates the condition. Obviously from this whole conversation you can see that we don't share the same brands; it works the same everywhere. Capitalism is great, Communism is evil is what I was taught growing up and yet our system has been left in the dust by a communist country who owns more of the United States that most care to admit.

As of 18 Jun 2008 at 09:14:18 PM GMT the U.S. national debt is $9,398,060,704,952.96. Almost a third of that is held by China. Our system has put us in a position that another country could literally ruin us without firing a shot. All they have to do is call on that debt. Seriously it is the equivalent to being delinquent on your power bill. They can turn off the lights at anytime.

All this politicking, all this learning to hate thy neighbor. . . none of it helps us and only serves as a smoke screen to our greater domestic problems. This Byzantine system we live in only serves to limit and segregate society. Political affiliations are a fine example; we are encouraged to cluster and foster an us versus them attitude. If we can put a finger on it, if we can label it, we can control it. The bullride is over; the west was won. We've tamed that beast and yet we're mostly still living in these false realities. It's time to evolve and elevate ourselves above this linear thinking and look outwards at what we as individuals can truly do to change. . . shit, anything. No politician is going to do that for us. No regulatory agency is going to make life better. No law is going to make you safer. It's a group of individuals working to clean up their own little corner of the world that incites change.

And little man, little Lola wants you. . . .

“There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”

~Anais Nin


Sometimes growth is painful, actually most of the time it is. It’s never easy, it requires effort, but the reward is oh so incredible and we are the better for it. . . usually. It all depends on which way the person grows. Sometimes people end up so much the worse with the bonus of taking people down with them. Example Lola Montez; born Eliza Oliver in 1818 Limerick, Ireland to an unwed, 15 year-old mother Eliza quickly became recognized for her “uncultivated” behavior.

Her mother later married her biological father, Ensign Edward Gilbert of the 25th Regiment and as a family they left for India. Shortly after arrival Gilbert died, Eliza’s mother went on to marry another officer who had little taste for Eliza’s untamed ways and sent her away to live back in England. It’s not documented whether Eliza ever saw her mother again.

Shifting around from boarding school to boarding school, Eliza eloped at 16 with Lieutenant Thomas James and the couple returned to India. Five years later they separated and Eliza began working as a professional dancer under her new name, Lola Montez.

In June 1843 Eliza returned to London as “Lola Montez, the Spanish dancer.” Though her initial performance was successful, she was recognized as the wife of James and left the island to avoid further scandal. This is where things get interesting. In 1954 Sarah Vaughan even made famous a song about Lola, “Whatever Lola Wants….” (BTW: there’s a sweet remix of this song on Buddha Bar VI).

Landing on the continent like a hurricane Lola quickly made herself known through affairs and affiliations with 19th Century figures like Franz Listz, George Sand and Alexandre Dumas before finding herself in the company of newspaper owner and drama critic, Alexandre Dujarier. Dujarier’s newspaper also happened to have the largest circulation in all of Paris and Lola had a need. On finding a little about the man she arranged a small accidental meeting. Dujarier was out horse riding and Lola staged an accident so they could meet.

Known notoriously for her outrageous style and outspoken attitude, Lola’s career as a dancer suffered greatly. Dujarier was the man she felt could turn it around, and for a time he did by writing glowing reviews of her in his paper. This though was an obvious failure to the French and Dujarier began losing credibility, friends, and support over his relationship with Lola. He told friends he was to marry Lola in the following spring. Lola never told him that she was still married. In 1845 at a party Dujarier insulted a fellow critic, Jean-Baptiste Rosemond de Beaupin de Beauvallon presumably over a comment on Lola and died in a duel with the man the following morning. Incidentally de Beauvallon was known for his skill with a pistol. Dujarier never had a chance. There was nothing left and Lola left Paris soon after.

Eventually finding her way into Munich posing as Spanish nobility Lola desired to be in the court of King Ludwig. Just as she had with Dujarier, Lola examined the situation until finding her way in. Count Otto Von Rechberg was Aide de Campe to Ludwig. And also just as she had done with Dujarier she arranged a meeting with Rechberg.

As Rechberg dined in an out door café one morning, Lola rode by on her horse. Suddenly the horse started and threw Lola to the ground, near the feet of Rechberg. As he helped her up, Rechberg became enchanted and eventually promised her a meeting with the King.

Lola arrived at the castle on the appointed day and as she waited she heard King Ludwig berating Rechberg as he had no time to meet with a “favor-seeking stranger.” Taking action Lola burst into the room; somewhere in the shuffle having the bodice of her dress torn there Lola stood, before the King with her breasts bore to the court. Lola had her stage to perform on within three days and Lola soon became Mistress to the King. Her stage performances were poorly reviewed, yet they continued.

Until this time Bavaria had been a peaceful, prosperous kingdom and King Ludwig was loved. He had been known to be fair and for his level headedness. When he met Lola though he began showering her with lavish gifts and writing her poetry. Like Dujarier, Ludwig started falling from favor and began losing credibility, friends, and support over his relationship with Lola.

Lola became a power behind the throne in advising Ludwig on matters of state. Other members of the court who spoke against Lola were dismissed. Lola’s power became greater than her and it went to her head. One day while walking her dog, it attacked a passer-by. Rather than bring the dog to heel, Lola began whipping the man with the dog’s leash. On another occasion as Lola rode her horse down a narrow path she came upon an elderly man riding in the same direction, but slower. Lola being unable to pass began slashing at the man with her riding crop. Soon it became public that Ludwig was working to make Lola a naturalized citizen, and a Countess.

This was too much for the citizens of Munich. The once peaceful peoples were now feared on the verge of civil war, rioting in the streets chanting, “Raus mit Lola!”? By early 1848 Lola was exiled from Bavaria. Five weeks later Kind Ludwig was made to abdicate his throne. The once loved king was no more. In exile, Lola received word of Ludwig’s loss of power and there she waited for Ludwig to come be with her. Ludwig never came and Lola left for England.

In England Lola found herself in the company of a young English army officer, George Trafford Heald. They fell in love and married in 1849. Heald came from a prominent English family and had a promising future. Unfortunately Lola remained married to James and for this was arrested soon after. Free on bail, Lola moved to Spain with Heald in tow to escape prosecution. There they fought terribly and within a few years Heald returned on his own to England to find himself entirely disinherited from his family, the army, and ostracized by society. Heald soon moved by himself to Portugal where within a few short months, he was dead.

Lola, ever looking to the horizon chose the United States as a destination. Germany, France, England. . . she was no longer welcome. In 1851 she left to make her start and for the next two years worked as a dancer in the Eastern United States before moving to San Francisco in 1853 where she met and married another newspaper owner, Patrick Hull. Hull’s friend and partner Louise Lull advised him against it. “That woman is ruining you. You are making a show of yourself, that woman has bewitched you,” Lull would say. Hull would never listen.

The marriage didn’t last more than a few months and yet Lola got the house where she stayed until news of another gold rush in Australia made it to the Americas. During her time in San Francisco Lola entertained the gold miners. Sydney seemed like the next logical step to her where she had seen men make and spend their wealth right before her eyes.

Lola didn’t last long in Australia. It was less than a few months before theaters started to sometimes enjoy and others suffer the benefit of her raucous performances. Again just as in France and Bavaria, Lola roused the ire of the press for such stunts as when pursued onto a ship by a sheriffs deputy holding a debtors warrant, she stripped naked and dared the deputy to seize her. He left without arresting her.

In 1856 the editor of The Ballarat Times, Henry Seekamp wrote an article critical of Lola as being immoral. Rumors had spread of her displaying her genetalia to the audience. The argument came to a head outside the United States Hotel in Ballarat where the two squared off with horsewhips. Lola won. They charged each other with assault and libel, the cases were dismissed with sympathy going to Lola. Lola then filed a warrant against Seekamp, but failed to appear on the appointed court date. Lola had been badly beaten by a wife of one of the miners she entertained. She spent a month recovering.

In 1857 Lola first returned to Britain, then the United States to deliver a series of lecture on moral virtues written by the Reverend Charles Chauncy Burr. Lola had suddenly changed and appeared genuinely repentant.

Lola began wasting away and soon died of Syphilis on January 16, 1861.

It all makes me think of the following from Chapter IV of the book, “Beyond Good and Evil” by Freidrich Nietzsche:

Apophthegms and Interludes

89. Dreadful experiences raise the question whether he who experiences them is not something dreadful also.

Lessons from the Dalai Franklin

"It was about this time I conceived the bold and arduous project of arriving at moral perfection. I wished to live without committing any fault at any time; I would conquer all that either natural inclination, custom, or company might lead me into. As I knew, or thought I knew, what was right and wrong, I did not see why I might not always do the one and avoid the other. But I soon found I had undertaken a task of more difficulty than I had imagined. While my care was employed in guarding against one fault, I was often surprised by another; habit took the advantage of inattention; inclination was sometimes too strong for reason. I concluded, at length, that the mere speculative conviction that it was our interest to be completely virtuous was not sufficient to prevent our slipping, and that the contrary habits must be broken, and good ones acquired and established, before we can have any dependence on a steady, uniform rectitude of conduct."

-Benjamin Franklin, "The Autobiography and Other Writings"

That is quite the ambitious statement. I remember when I first read that I laughed out loud. Now this is on my mind because as traverse a course of self-enrichment, I am reminded that men of greater stature than I have attempted similar feats, each enjoyed a varying degree of success. Franklin himself gave up on the idea after about a year.

He did enjoy his own measures of success and failure in his attempt and he felt himself the better man for it. Franklin as it turned out was regimented in this; he kept a journal on his efforts and in retrospect he found himself so much fuller of faults than he had previously believed. At a few points he wanted to give up but eventually he allowed himself that, "a benevolent man should allow a few faults in himself."

I contrast this with the teachings of the Dalai Lama where he discusses replacing hate, anger and frustration with patience and compassion, areas in which I am trying to improve. There are days when it seems so appealing to lash out at those from whom I've felt slighted, and then I recall there is no reason to, I've spoken my peace and I need to let it go at that. Learn my lesson, move on and find happiness in the growth of others.

Feel Good Inc.

Today I want to explore love. When is the strongest you’ve ever felt it and with whom? You might say that person was your mom, your friend, your lover, etc. but truthfully each of those can be transient, ambiguous or arbitrary at best.

Sure we all love our parents to some degree or another. Even those that I’ve known who’ve grown up in the most extreme of situations say that on some level say they still love their parents, but it’s a cautious love tempered with self preservation. They love them because it’s their mom, or their dad, which is about all the definition they might offer.

Early on that love is pure. Some say it’s because a child bonds with at least their mother and relies upon them for survival but really when you were six years old did you honestly understand that without your family you’d have no one to care for you and could be absolutely alone? Maybe you did, but I recall that being about the age I was the first time I considered running away from home. If you didn’t then maybe you’re the exception. Such feelings have been so prevalent in society that Hank Ketchum used the stereotype time and again in his comic strip, "Dennis the Menace." The small child running away from home is the quintessential symbol of youth and innocence running headlong into something they know nothing about or at least understand very little of.

Like the aforementioned character, as children we are self-centered and self indulgent. Our parents place us on a pedestal and make us the center of their universe. Most parents do anyway and for that it becomes easy for the child to take them for granted. Mom or dad will always be there to wipe your nose, give you lunch money and tuck you in at night. As children we are unable to see past our condition and through that we can blame mom and/or dad for every little flaw and ding in our own character. We are after all the products of our environments aren’t we? Usually that’s a grown up way of saying, "Mom and dad didn’t love me enough," or, "They didn’t buy me that puppy/pony/bike/car when I asked for it."

As the child enters prepubescence and on through their teenage years it becomes less and less about the parent and more about the child. Call bullshit all you want but think back on how often you made one or both of your parents cry in those first 18 years. Now barring it being a genuinely abusive situation, how many times did they make you cry and over what? If your answer falls into the puppy/pony/bike/car category you should realize that they most likely anguished over that far more than you did, they just did it in private. If you don’t see that and indeed did make it into those years without being taken from them by DCFS then you’re probably that same self centered and self-indulgent child I mentioned before.

Because most parents keep the suffering of their decisions private from their children, the child is never fully able to realize that their parents have it just as hard, if not worse than they do. They are unable to see the consequence of their words or actions and as such never fully appreciate that their parents have needs, wants and desires of their own.

Here’s a real example. A 14-year-old boy I know was recently asked by his widowed mother how he would feel if she started dating. "I would chase them away," he said. He went on to explain that he liked his current position and was willing to defend it. Inversely his parent will never stop loving him or hold his happiness conditional just as he himself had stated he would. In a healthy parent/child relationship, nothing, not a lover, friend or extended family member will move the child from that position in the parents heart. Not even his siblings who share that space can remove him from it, but they will gladly smack the shit out of you if you keep it up, "toolboy".

Anyway; I know I don’t need to explain the love we have for a friend in the same detail. We may love, care and sacrifice ourselves on occasion for this person, but it’s always tempered by our own self-interests. Even if we put ourselves aside for our friends, it’s done out of our own self-interest. Contrast this with the role of a lover and really there is little difference. Fidelity and honesty must exist in both, just with a lover is the added bonus of the relationship being sexual. Too many confuse this relationship with being, for lack of a better term, true love.

It goes without mention though that all love is true. The only real factor that determines if it’s anything more is its durability. How many close friends or lovers have you had in the past who you wouldn’t care to see or at least be indifferent to if you did see them today? Much less how many close friends or even lovers do you have that you could go days without speaking to?

This doesn’t make their roles any less valuable to you. You know that if you needed something you could call on them and most likely they will be there. It’s not guaranteed that they will, but you know they are there to handle some piece of the issue, in their own time. Especially if you are that same self centered and self indulgent child, you need to remember that your friends have lives and problems of their own and more than likely they will call on you to help with them. Be it friends or lovers, you have to take the good times with the bad. Life is not all rainbows and butterflies.

If it were that way, would life be worth living? For me it’s the negative that helps me appreciate the positives. In retrospect perhaps that’s why I don’t trust people who only reflect what is positive in their lives. The only thing being demonstrated when they show that life is always good is that they won’t be there when times get rough. No one is superhuman and trying to show yourself as being such is just insulting. Those are the real vampires; the members of Feel Good Inc.

So then what is love? There was a time when I thought I had a handle on it. I met and married a woman whom I thought beautiful inside and out, and in retrospect I see how conditional we really were. I now realize that I was still that same self centered and self-indulgent child and so was she. We had everything going on; we were self-sufficient with dual incomes and really no expenses to speak of. Every weekend was something to do as our time was our own. Vacations and amusements were nothing to really think of, we just did them. We were married five years before a brush with death caused us to reconsider keeping our relationship child-free.

In reality and we’ve both discussed it, neither of us knew what love was until we had a child together. Ironically it wasn’t a renewed love for each other, it was a love for this child. It was the only time I actually experienced love at first sight and it’s a bond that defies most rational explanation. Somewhere in one of my boxes is video of me holding her soon after she was born, promising her my world and everything I build in it.

The love a person has for their friend might be somewhere between indifference and a happy conditional acceptance, but the love I have for my daughter is one that borders on obsessive. I’ve talked to other parents and for them it is the same. What’s also the same for them is that it’s unlike any type of love they’ve felt before. To a person without a child, this might sound questionable, but consider this; I already know that I will be the father that scares the crap out of boyfriends and will jealously guard my daughter’s virtue. So far that sounds like the father of most every daughter I’ve dated. How do I know I’ll do this? Because there are two other young ladies for whom I already have. It’s been good practice and I appreciate that they let me be that person to them.

The love a parent has for a child is an absolute, unconditional love. Later in life I’m expecting my daughter to not appreciate me so much as she does now, but I don’t believe I’ll love her less for it and later in life, should I become a burden to her I’ll feel bad for it. She might resent me and maybe even one day say she hates me, but I know I’ll always love her unconditionally. It’s a love that hurts so much the pain becomes exquisite and reminds me that I am alive and that my life has a higher purpose. My life and most all of its related decisions are based on what’s best for her.

Now using that love as a gauge I have an understanding of relationships a bit different than those who are child-free. I love you all, but most no one comes close to how I feel for my daughter. Any of my friends, without hesitation I would step over your body for her and really I would expect you to do the same if it came down to it. That’s a quality most won’t at least express. A few do and for that I appreciate them so much more.

Think about it like this; imagine everything good in your life, your relationships, your possessions, your accomplishments, your feelings for all of that still doesn’t equate to how a parent feels for their child. Now imagine losing all of it. That pain you feel in your gut, like you’ve been eviscerated is still nothing like what a child can make you feel. The only thing that equates to is divorce; pretty small in the grand scheme of things.

A good example happened when I was with my ex-wife. She developed an addiction towards the end of our relationship. I remained loving, supportive and understanding; I wasn’t happy about it but I did it because it’s what I felt to be the right thing to do. The last two years was like beating a dead horse and eventually I decided it was over, as I had no more to give. It wasn’t easy to walk away though it was made easier because I had to fight tooth and nail to keep my daughter. I don’t mean figuratively either, I mean physically like when I was jumped by her and the contents of the crack house I found her at with my child. That was the day I left her, I did it beaten, bloody, bruised and still without my child, but I didn’t give up and in the end I did win. And it was a solid legal victory too.

That is why over the years I’d come to feel the way I did for Cynthia and her daughters. I thought her just as capable of caring for my child as she did her own and believed she sourced her power as a parent from the same place that I still do. Neither of us abused our children and we both had a fairly liberal policy towards them; one of guidance rather than limitation and letting them experience the world about them rather than punishing for doing so. As such my feelings for her and her children were in greater parallel to those I still have towards my daughter, than those I ever felt for Paula in our ten years of her and I being married.

It’s a genuine, healthy emotional state. If it were unhealthy, parenting would be illegal. And it’s just unfortunate that many will go their entire lives oblivious to what I’m talking about.

That’s what the pack mentality is all about. It’s not a loose affiliation of casual acquaintances and conditional relationships and it’s more than just providing food, water and shelter. It’s about correcting behavior contrary to the overall good, guiding in the skills necessary to function in life and being both physically and emotionally available on a moments notice.

Yeah in many ways I still am self-centered and self indulgent, but I’m starting to realize how that factors into my life.