habituated

humans are habituating creatures. expose us to a thing long enough and we get, for lack of a better word, accustomed to it. smack a metal rod against a surface near me and i am surprised, shocked even. do it a hundred times in a row and by the time ou get to one hundred, i'm expecting it. i'm used to it. this happens with bad things that we ought not get habituated to, such as domestic violence. the first time a victim is hit it is likely shocking, but over time even that horrific behavior can become the norm. a woman may stay in a horrible relationship for years, because she at least knows what to expect. she has habituated to bad treatment. we can also become habituated to good things. things that we ought not get habituated to, such as a breath-taking view, or a beautiful woman, or a lovely personality. exposed to these long enough, we begin to get accustomed to them. we take them for granted. we become used to the thing that drove awe and inspiration. over time with both of these habituating forces at work, we become deadened creatures. we are not moved anymore. passion fades. moving from the polar ends toward the all too gray middle-ground. being open to the unknown, and unexpected may provide some answer. looking for serendipity, if you'll pardon the oxymoron.

i-phones an wall-e

with the new internet accessing i-phone-type phones, one can be attached to all the worlds info at the touch of a button. if it was implanted in one head, IQ scores would skyrocket. effectively it does increase ones intelligence. ask me any question and if i can look it up in a few seconds it may as well be my knowledge.

but the detractor is big, it can dettach one from their fellow man.

HBO apathy

i remember watching HBO at a cousin's house as a kid. we'd stay up late and peek it away from adults, and occasionally spy some boobage. i remember seeing some boobage on fast times at ridgemont high. i also remember that a movie would be replayed frequently.

im in a hotel now that has HBO.

on rare occasion i catch a decent movie, but when i do its usually half way over by the time i start watching. i saw the entire "the time travellers wife". i almost started crying. which would have been bad seeing as how i had a roommate.

more often than not though there is not movies playing but HBO special series' for instance theyre now playing a documentary about the NY Jets. you see them playing football and see them practicing for games and you see the coaches get all mad and cuss using the F word a lot.

dreams of fighting

fight one.
we face each other on our knees. my opponent is a tiny vietnamese kid. we shake hands and begin fighting. hes fast. too fast. he's up and around my neck before i know it. the fear of being beat my such a small person is all that allows me to escape his grasp. were told to fight at 70% but hes clearly giving 110. i twist and turn and nearly manage a rear mount before the whistle blows. i call that a win.

fight two.
my battle buddy. a heavy but teddy bear like doctor. he asks before we start, " are you going to give it your all or just 50%. i tell him i base in on what my opponent gives. after shaking hands, i get him the guard position fairly quick. he tries the taught maneuvers but they fail him. the whistle blows. i win.

fight three.
a beefy guy who taught fighting techniques for his powerpoint presentation. hes a nice guy though. we shake hands and i lunge for a hold. in what seems like slow motion he grabs my collar with both hands and pulls my collar and twists. i'm choking. its a blood choke. what the hell! hes choking me. i feel as though i'll pass out. i tap out. he wins. "what the hell! i didnt know choking was allowed!?". an instructor is listening in and says, "well consider this a lesson. you just learned something you didnt know."

fight four.
awkward. its a middle aged woman, notorious for not being able to take any suffering. we shake. within a few i have her in a hold. she moans. the instructor steps in. she says her ribs hurt her. he ends our fight. i am glad.

did you know?...part 2

in 1960, Inejiro Asanuma, leader of the neutralist socialist party was assisinated by 17-year-old Otoya Yamaguchi. Inejiro's party was bitterly opposed to the security treaty with the United States. Otoya later hanged himself in his jail cell. notice the ninja like quickness of this assasination. you dont even see what happens but at the very end of the video they slow it way down.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D4KROpdUkrM&feature=related

did you know?...part 1

Did you know that recently deceased DEMOCRATIC senator Robert Byrd was a member of the Ku Klux Klan when he was a young man? During his time in the KKK he was given the titles of Kleagle (recruiter) and Exalted Cyclops. During WWII he penned the following letter to segregationist and DEMOCRATIC Senator Theodore Bilbo:

“ I shall never fight in the armed forces with a Negro by my side... Rather I should die a thousand times, and see Old Glory trampled in the dirt never to rise again, than to see this beloved land of ours become degraded by race mongrels, a throwback to the blackest specimen from the wilds. ”
— Robert C. Byrd, in a letter to DEMOCRATIC Senator Theodore Bilbo, 1944,

In 1946 or 1947 he wrote a letter to a Grand Wizard stating:

"The Klan is needed today as never before and I am anxious to see its rebirth here in West Virginia and in every state in the nation."

Byrd defeated REPUBLICAN incumbent W. Chapman Revercomb for the United States Senate in 1958, a campaign in which Revercomb's record SUPPORTING CIVIL RIGHTS became an issue which played in Byrd's favor.

Byrd joined with other Southern and border state DEMOCRATS to filibuster the Civil Rights Act of 1964, personally filibustering the bill for 14 hours.


Of course, later in life he noted that joining the KKK was "the greatest mistake I ever made" and that he regretted making the filibuster.

more info...

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Byrd

j.k. leopold entry (June 1934)

From my J.K. Leopold diary...

The other day I visited father for his birthday. We planned to play boche' ball and whilst I was retrieving the equipment from his closet, he hovered like a mother hen, nitpicking the trivial. "dont take the balls out of the bag!", "careful with that!", "don't touch that, put it back." he whined. He reminded me of his bitter sister.

It is an irritible heart in him that i posess as well. Only mine is directed at him.

Last Thursday, he met my wife and I for lunch at the local cafe'. I was excited for another chance. another chance to connect with this kind man and yes there is a definite kindness to him. A meekness and gentleness I don't posess.

I tried so hard to connect with him, but to no avail. His talk was always self-focused. When I talked to him, his eyes and attention were fixated on his food. I thought as I talked to him, "He would look exactly the same eating that food, if no one was talking to him." As my wife tried to make small talk, he couldnt hide his boredom, looking around the room, ignoring most of what she said.

Perhaps what stings the most is it all highlights to me that he seems not to know how short life is. He has doubtless a few short good years ahead of him. I want to cry. I want to tell him to live! live! I want him to connect to others. I want him to connect to me.

I talked to him about his dream of flying in a hot air balloon. He talked of doing it one day, not realizing that the day may be here and is probably long gone. I know I know that I shall grieve for him terribly when he passes, because I grieve for him terribly right now.