Sep 3

 Odd day today.

Internet was down for most of the day. Unheard of. In fact. I can't ever remember that ever having been the case for me since there even was an internet. Or the days prior to an internet proper. My relationship with the machines predates the internet. Old.

So no internet. Weird. 

The Matrix went quiet for the first time in 20 years.

I slumped. Didn't know what to do with myself. Like some parasitic life form suddenly bereft of its technical host.

It is hilarious how tightly tied I am - and I suspect we all are - to the internet. Remove it. And it feels like you've had your arm chopped off.

I have to admit to the teeniest, tiniest ripple of panic. I mean. Not panic. And so small as to be laughable. But definitely something. A little.. tiny... anxiety bump. Oh no. OH NO.

5 seconds later I was laughing at myself. Holy shit dude. The internet has died. NOBODY PANIC. Ha ha. I pondered what that feeling must be like for those that have only ever known the internet to be there and cannot remember The Before Times. Worse for them I concluded. Possibly even a little... psychologically debilitating.

In any case. It's remarkable how things get suddenly harder without a torrent of information washing over me. Ooh let's go to the dump. Oh. Ohhh. Except. Is it busy ? Open ? The internet remains blank.

Of course I Could have resorted to doing this on the phone. But. Fuck that shit. I am as ever a reluctant user of the compromised bullshit devices. I did check the state of the internet on it though. Yes. Indeed. It's fucked mate. We're working on it. Ok then.

I was also suddenly cut off from everyone. I Wonder if X wants to go for a walk. Oh. No internet.

I suppose I Could have phoned someone. Ha ha. What is this ? The 1950's ? That would also presume that I knew their phone number. For the most part - no. Who uses phone numbers ? Honestly. 

Also another hilarious problem.

Everything in the automated house suddenly ground to a halt. No lights. No questions. Dead. Like some old school 20th century house. Jesus.

I tried the TV, and resented the fact I had to actually get the individual remotes and turn it all on instead of it just magically whisking all several devices on for me at the utterance of a word. Some cranky ass manual bullshit world I was suddenly subject to. The TV was also dead however. I once again resentfully used all the remotes to turn it all off again. Bullshit fucking 3 remotes with stupid buttons to turn shit off, for fuck sakes, like some fucking cave dwelling bullshit.

It also made me think how used to not putting any effort in to do shit I have become. Doing things manually succckkkkssss.

I watched a movie and a half offline. Thoughtfully deposited in my local media storage an ice age ago.

But I slumped again.

So I went for a nap instead. And slept the afternoon away. Because. Fuck it.

So. Weird day. To be fair I also felt quite lethargic today and definitely not my best. Itchy eyes. Sneezy nose. A little under the weather. So. Eh. Yeah. Meh.

Moving on.

Of late. I have started to wonder why someone I know is exhibiting the mental fuckery that they do. I don't have an answer. Because I haven't dug into it. Their - secret - behaviour has been a revelation to me. A hidden facet of their character. Entirely inline with the rest of their more public character to be fair. But certainly dramatically, and worryingly more extreme than I had seen. But as such, I have had no opportunity to pull at that thread, to start digging back into the past to see where - if anywhere - it originates from. And it almost always does have an origin.

So anyway. We have. Let's say. Bad behaviour. It happens. Here's a thing. It is, by some measures, abusive. If you take the line on it. It IS abusive behaviour. Personally. I take a lot more fuzzy a line with that sort of value judgement. Real life is messy. And imperfect. And often both sides of a coin can be.. less than stellar. See Johnny Depp vs Amber Heard for instance.

But still. Push comes to shove. Check it out in the textbooks. Yeah. Abusive.

Worse still when it's clearly one way. Proper alarm bells start ringing there.

Putting aside just where on that alarmist line you fall and what immediately to do about it, the next thing that bothers me is the why. Why is someone being an incredible dick. Which is .. not immediately super relevant to anyone involved. But of course, finding that is of critical relevance to resolving it. Not that your chances of resolving it without much time and care and yada are much beyond zero. But for me, putting aside the emotions of it all, there is also that academic, thinking, calculating, problem to solve.

And I do love solving problems.

Of course the people come first. Not up for argument. But the underlying question also bugs at me. I want to know.

As if on cue with my thoughts. Today an article dropped across my desk, from a psycho analyst, giving their thoughts about their work, its relation to the DSM V manual of All Things Bonkers and the care to be given about pigeon holing. In short. Everyone is different. The DSM is a bit clinical. A bit too coldly scientific. And misses the fuzzy bits. Which I get. But from all of this they stated the importance of finding the origin of the behaviour. The uniquely personal event that made the sufferer what they are. First identifying the suffering. How it manifests. Relating that to the DSM. But then most importantly, relating it back to the unique events that shaped them that way. They gave an example. Of someone with body dysmorphia. Social anxiety. Weird imposter syndrome. And found the root of it all tied back to an event as a teenager, punished for drawing erotic art. And ever since. Having a very dysfunctional relationship with all the aspects therein. Sex. Art. Their opinion of themselves. Sin. Etc.

But it underlined the importance to me of that origin. Like a perfectly on cue prompt that yes, you need to find that origin.

I swear sometimes my life is a bit spooky. I'll ask myself a question. And then the answers show up promptly on my desktop without looking for them. Or someone at the door. Or a suspectly timed random phonecall. It's. Freaky. I can't entirely rule out that something somewhere is fucking with me a bit, even though my rational self absolutely scoffs at such a ridiculous notion. Then again. Those are some real fucking huge odds coming through over and over again. IE, My dad turning up on my doorstep last year within hours of Ares dying. Yes, but, my rational side says, that's the nature of chaos. Black Swan events. The unlikely does and will happen. Yeah says the other bit. But that consistently ? Bullshit ! There's a Black Swan event. And then there's a procession of Black Swans. Like a row of buses. Mmmm. Less Chaos. More Grand Plan ? Or at least someone fucking with the dice rolls.

All very Truman show. Sometimes I like to ponder in a cool sci fi story kind of way, if whether all those things like The Matrix, The Truman Show, Red Dwarf, Inception et al, with their repeating riff of reality isn't what you think it is, are just messages from The Other Side, trying to tell you you're stuck somewhere and to wake the fuck up. I can imagine on waking up an annoyed team of people telling you, how the fuck did you not get the clue when you watched the film Inception. Are you stupid ? We made it to tell you ! Heh ( which for the record is absolutely what the Red Dwarf episode Suicide Squid went with - a mocking Timothy Spall aghast at how many "obvious" clues were missed by the Dwarfers ). Oh. But I thought it was just a film. Not a message ! I recently watched an anthology of Phillip K Dick stories pretty much all of which messed with the idea of, who are you, you aren't who you think you are, what is reality, what is dreaming, and this is all bullshit anyway. Certainly leans into the whole, Are You Trying To Tell Me Something Right Now ? Or is this just a cool philsophical literary phase we're going through.

I find Inception of them all is the most dangerous. That whole, reality isn't real, I'm just gonna jump off this building. I get it. Very much. How do you know ? And by the end of the film. You're really still not sure. The implication is she did the right thing. He's living in the dream. She escaped. The motto of the film then being - everythings a dream, jump off a building now !

Yikes. And logically consistent. Double yikes. Also edgily close to life and death anyway. Which is the point. Uh huh.

Of course. For the meta lols. If I DO wake up. They'll mock me for having written about the fact it could be possible. And still not getting it. World class stupidity.

Ho. Ho. Ho.

Related topic. Thought experiment. How would you get someone a message in something like the Matrix that they were in a simulation. Assuming it was watched at all times. And they had limited capability to interfere / intervene and could only talk to you in round about ways. Assume all obvious interactions are guarded against, and realtime or even moderately delayed interaction is impossible. IE, no happy simple conversations ( so you can't do a Matrix and just have a chat in a comfy chair ). They're all watched. Go.

Anyway. I digress.

Back to shitty behaviour. Or just plain old mental fuckery.

Why is someone like that. And that to find that out. I need to dig into their past. Because as it turns out, their character has been this way for more than a decade. Two decades. Which puts them back as a young person. So. Something or things in their formative years have shaped them this way. Critical. Angry. Abusive. Competitive. Unable to rein in their temper. And very needy. Very hurt. Brutalised somewhat without knowing it.

It smells obviously like trauma. If you were to go by the numbers, then, it smells like a traumatic childhood. Perhaps a difficult relationship with siblings ? And punishing parents that did not show love ? But really. Absolute guesses, and not worth much at all. To know, you'd have to dig into their past. It could quite easily also be a traumatic relationship. Abandonment issues. But somewhere along the line I suspect, they have been burned by someone in a position of trust. And they have been acting out their internalised trauma ever since - projecting it onto others, fighting those closest to them, a lightning rod for their pain and fury.

No bueno.

Of course perhaps they are just spoiled brats that never had their boundaries properly enforced and have acted like a bratty little shit ever since. Doubtful though. The shape would be... different. A different outcome.

Digging into this is a little.. sensitive at this point.

I am not sure I can do it. The stakes are too high. The emotions are up. And. Honestly. My sympathies truly lie with the abused. Not the abuser. Don't get me wrong. I sympathise with everyone. But. Where I am forced to make that call, I support the abused. The abuser must get their help... elsewhere.

Tricky. As all involved are good friends.

Of course. It's all my fault. There is no need for me to be there. The simple, cold, shitty, thing to do is let people get on with it. Avoid them. Don't support them. When shit gets hard, just, throw up hands and declare it to be too complicated. Don't want to get involved.

Many would class that as wisdom. And I get it. And wouldn't judge per se.

But it's not me.

I will wade into the fire and do the thing.

To me. If you aren't willing to do that. Then just what the fuck is the point of life ? Saving for a retirement yacht ? Fuck off. Although. For anyone that chooses that. That's fine. But. For me. No. Fuck that. Bullshit. Do the thing that matters. Help where help is needed.

The yacht is certainly the easier life. The one with less scars. That avoids people possibly hating you. But yeah. Fuck it.

The test of something is not what it's like when the going is good.

But what it's like when the going is bad. Terrible. Cataclysmic. When the hour is darkest, you best believe I am going to hold a light. If there is only one thing I am sure of, then it's that. Hold. The. Light. Against. The. Dark.

Dramatic. Such a drama queen. But I know what it's like when the light fades and you look square into the eye of death. Do I live. Do I die. Do I jump. That shit is real. And as dramatic as a life versus death battle can be. Suicide is unfunny and more real than anything else in life.

Of course, not all things are do or die. But still. I take such shit seriously. And I know how quickly those slippery slopes can turn down. The wellbeing of others is important. The world does a fine job of not giving a shit. I can do my bit to not be like that. A protest. A non acceptance. A line in the sand. The world can be a different place.

Anyway. Enough with the tub thumping.

My mind is for the zillionth time in my life, drawn towards the allure of properly training to be a shrink. I have a knack for it. I know quite a bit about it already. But mainly. I see so many people who need help. And there is an enormous lack of it out there. The older I get the more I realise just how many people carry major trauma around with them, and how much of the person they are is just all that twisted garbage in their past. It is, on reflection, pretty horrific. I suspect society is not much more than a conglomeration of deeply fucked up individuals.

So. A shrink. My apathy for study is the major drag. I am suspicious at best of structured learning. And also. The whole rank capitalism that has crept into studying anything now - oh that will be £12k per annum, please and thank you - suck ass. I would like to help people. I am not sure I would like to bankrupt myself in order to get a shitty fucking wall certificate that means I can then officially help people.

It just all smacks of. Stupidity.

I think if the courses were free. I would do it. And then do what with it ? Well. Help those around me for starters. But also probably dip into the NHS pool of things where they are outrageously understaffed. Give up some time. Help some people. Not about the money. Just about ironing out some kinks in the world.

Debugging. But on people.

Blah. Whatever. Next week I will have moved on. And no one is going to offer free education these days. As if. If you can't make money out of it, what's the point eh ? Capitalism Max.

Fucking capitalists.

Ruining the world one shitty dollar at a time.

Oh lastly. A few days ago I said I would say what I thought I deserved. That quick response first thing off the top of your head. Complete the sentence What I Really deserve is...

my answer is love and care.

It seems I am a cuddly teddy bear at heart.