Notes from the Petting Zoo

Is there an analyst worth a damn that doesn’t have their own personal mirror?

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If a guy tells me how things “ought” to be done and this is in direct conflict with what I am seeing happening, then I am going to suspect he is full of shit. Or that he has some kind of agenda. Probably both.

One of the things that I have learned in my life — as a guy — is that things usually are exactly or pretty close to what they seem to be. And if not, then it makes no practical difference to me anyway. I am taught to observe and to understand cause and effect. I am taught to try new things, to make my own way in the world.

And to always be a leeeetle bit suspicious of anyone trying to tell me how things are done.

I’m a guy. That means I’m expected to be an iconoclast, to make my own place and name in the world. My heroes are iconoclasts. Name five famous guys who operated according to the rules and did what they expected? Yeah, I thought so. Fuck conformity. Conformity is a nightmare from which you can never escape. It’s in all the best movies (therefore, I’m willing to accept that it’s true).

That’s what it’s like being a guy.

What’s spooky is how opposite girls seem to be. Girls have all these rules. Girls make deals with each other (girl deals seem to basically be formalized betrayals, near as I’ve discovered). Girls try to tell other girls how to act and what “works” and what’s “appropriate”. It’s spooky! I mean, what kind of Stepford Wife (see — we have a name for that!) bows to that kind of conformity?

Guys wouldn’t put up with that, unless they’re toadying asskissers of some kind, but guys know asskissers aren’t worth a damn.

So why is it women listen so avidly to other women and seem to follow their advice? Is history filled with women who have made great strides for other women by conforming carefully to “the rules” laid down by other women?

Yeah, that sounds pretty goofy to me, too. It certainly doesn’t sound to me that “your best interests” are really on the important “to respect” list of such folks. It sounds more like a hidden agenda to me.

I mean, speaking as a guy.

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I resent women writing articles in magazines for other women advising them how to emotionally manipulate men in order to feel more “powerful” when, as a man, I’d have to say guys are actually pretty easy to understand and work with. I think this sort of horseshit causes a tremendous amount of harm to women.

If I’m supposed to be doing my part to support feminism, then I think one of my steps will be to decry those sorts of articles as pure junk.

Women — if you want to know how to work guys, if you want to know the answers to all these things the articles promise to solve for the low-low-price-of-only, then all you have to do is simply ask a guy. Ask five guys. Ask ten. Don’t be coy or shy and don’t beat around the bush. Tell ‘em you’ve heard the Cosmo articles are crap and could they please just give you a straightforward answer? Most will. Really. You will probably find that most guys think the articles are horseshit as well and will happily answer such questions.

The hard part is deciding if they are a better authority than an article in a magazine.

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Haiku time!

As most of us know, a haiku has a syllable rhythm of 5-7-5. More traditionally, a haiku also should fulfill three other criteria: it should include a reference to nature (not human nature), it should refer to a particular event, and it should be in present tense, as in an event or occurrence happening now.

Please post a haiku, and if at all possible, post one you’ve just made up for this occasion. Maybe it can be about something that is important to you right now. Feel free to explain if you wish.

Here’s mine:

Like earmuffs on a
Frosted field. We keep her warm
Between our bodies.

and

My guilt tastes just like
Irish Cream on Autumn nights
Burning down my throat.

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I’m sorry. Really, I am.

The coffee in my cup is a deep, fathomless black, and reminds me of the cost to my soul each cup extracts. I can’t help it, really, that’s just how it is. Coffee and I have brokered a devil’s deal.

However that deal has worked out, however, I still have some leeway, some wiggle-room. I can soften the blow coffee makes to my system. There are three players in that game. First, of course, is sugar. Sugar and I have an equally long history and not just via Pop-Tarts, if you know what I mean. Addressing sugar would be a whole different essay.

The second method of alleviating the damage from coffee, curiously, is salt. Just a fraction of a pinch per cup. That’s all it takes. Salt is wonderful and we’ve usually agreed to steer clear of each other (except for tortilla chips, but again, that’s a whole different love story).

The third method is creamer. When I can get it, I prefer liquid creamers. They slide beneath the subtly shifting black. They don’t so much break the surface tension as they urge it to part with their pale, pale lips. Liquid creamers are quite possibly the most erotic thing to ever happen to coffee. Where I work, however, there is no liquid creamer. There is only a powdered, cakey creamer. It sorta’ does the trick, although it’s not entirely perfect. I use it anyway.

I watch, fascinated, as the islands of powdered creamer float on top of the black sea of coffee. These islands are amazing constructs — gently sloping hills, sheer towers, treacherous cliffs, flat pastoral snowy-white plains, soaked swamps. Entire adventures could take place on these islands.

This is where you come in.

I know that you live there. I know that in my perception of time, only a minute passes, but for you, the inhabitants of these pearlescent islands, entire lifetimes, generations, eons flicker by. I know this.

I know this and I weep inside as I watch the relentless black depths lap away at your beautiful beaches, chew down your soaring cliffs, soak through your plains. Your destruction over millennia happens in less than a minute of my time and I feel your hearts beating in terror and confusion, I hear your cries, and there is nothing I can do. Nothing. Little by little, the din quiets as I watch more and more of your land slip away, sinking into the depths. Perhaps you have left this land for a happier place? Perhaps you have all thrown yourself early into the murk? Perhaps you silently and stoically face your own deaths, philosophically at peace? Perhaps you have made the tiniest of submarines, too small for me to see, and are even now spiraling into what you hope will be a new subcaffeine existence (in which case I have more bad news for you soon)? I will never know for sure.

But for my role, for my part in being the hand of Fate that both creates and ultimately destroys your home, I apologize.

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Perhaps there is a reason we have more holes in our skull for hearing than we do for speaking. Perhaps we are supposed to listen to twice as many things as that about which we speak?

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There are a lot of different essays and documents on having a civilized discussion with someone else. This is mine. It contains points that I most often forget and thus am in more often need of a reminder. You are welcome to use what you like and ignore what you don’t. I discourage the beating of any rules or guidelines over someone’s head.

What, exactly, is wrong with everyone being right?
I’m surprised more people don’t ask this, and I’m surprised I don’t ask it more often, but, well, there it is. The answer to this question is probably going to reveal at least one block to the discussion.

When there is nothing useful coming from discussing an issue, when there is no marked progress, it is time to stop discussing the issue, at least for now. If the issue cannot be avoided, then it is time to avoid the social situation that supports it, at least for now.
You can always come back and talk about it, but sometimes the horse is lying there and being very still for a reason.

When “always”, “never”, “everyone”, “no one”, or other such sweeping statements appear in a discussion, it is usually a sign that the usefulness of discourse has stopped, at least for now.
Too much effort is spent refuting that which shouldn’t even be coming up in the first place. Plus, it distracts from the real issue being discussed when all sorts of useful energy is spent saying “No, not everybody think’s you’re a taco.” It’s perfectly fine saying “A lot of people seem to think I’m a taco.” and still get the point across without forcing the discussion into the Theory Of Blinders.

There are rarely only two choices, even if not all the choices are visible. In other words, lack of a visible alternative rarely means there isn’t one.
Sometimes, all it takes is to acknowledge that there might be other options. Sometimes, that’s all it takes.

It is rare to find someone who can truly predict the future or read minds.
Really, really rare. Certainly some predictions can come true: “If I let this kitten go, it will fall into the blender”, but most of these involve some physical provable law. Human beings and their thoughts and motives are a whole ‘nother can of pepper spray.

If a potentially good outcome cannot be foreseen as well as a potentially bad outcome, then the act of prophecy should be immediately suspect.
As a rule, I recommend against using fortunetellers, especially if they only give one kind of advice. On the other hand, if you know they’re only going to give one kind of advice, it might still be useful, but keep the source in mind.

If there is a charitable interpretation, it should be used. In other words, use an interpretation that most directly leads to the desired outcome.
The biggest hurdle here is ego. The more you have invested in the state of conflict, the less likely you are to accept an interpretation that denigrates that energy expenditure. Keep the goal of the discussion in mind and consider interpretations of events that lead more readily to that goal.

Sometimes a person chooses the wrong words. This is forgivable, especially if they try to find the right ones once they realize the error. The usefulness of a discussion is directly proportional to the allowance of this margin of error.
Especially in the heat of the moment, a person can use words that were unintended or that were not useful, helpful, or kind. As long as you focus on the goal of the discussion, then recovery from such accidents is fairly painless.

Interrupting someone is always impolite. This is not to say it shouldn’t be done, but that it should be done sparingly, with respect to the person interrupted, and only when necessary.
Here’s a good example: “I’m sorry, I know you’re right in the middle of this explanation and I want to understand it, but I have to pee right now! Can you hang on for five minutes?”

“I don’t know” is a perfectly acceptable answer when true.
Really. No one’s a genius, no one can anticipate every move, no one can predict the future or the actions of others. Practice in front of a mirror if you’re uncomfortable saying it. Practice accepting it when you hear it. It doesn’t mean anything other than exactly that.

No discussion is so vital it can’t be paused to collect obtainable facts.
This is especially true if there’s any sort of decision that must be made or course of action that must be chosen. There are plenty of facts that are unknowable, but there’s no excuse for things that can be learned with little effort.

If there isn’t visible blood or visible flame, chances are, there’s no rush.
Also Known As: “The Law of Chillin’”.

Authorities should be clearly identified.
By “Authorities”, I mean those from whom reliable data is acquired. You would think this is simple, but it’s been and will continue to be a real bugaboo. When you want to know the weight of the heaviest man, you look in the Guiness Book of World Records, not the “NaughtyPix” section of your son’s hard drive. We often make decisions based on the opinions of our respective Authorities. This is why it’s imperative to figure out what they are. Also, not all Authorities are best for all problems. For example, your best authority on what you think is you, but your best authority on what someone else thinks might not be. It might be… them!

Authorities should be considered with some degree of consistency.
However you value your Authority, you should consider it with some consistency if other factors are the same. For example: “This person lies like a rug, but in this instance I’ll believe her” is probably not a good place to go, unless it’s revealed “This person lies like a rug about her relationships with celebrities, but she is a demonstrated authority on XML, so I will ask her about my XML problem and ignore advice she offers regarding my lovelife with Keanu Reeves.”

If one person asks a question, the expectation is that the other person should answer it.
Questions exist to be answered, preferably by the person being asked. If it’s a “rhetorical question”, then it’s not really a query for information. Is it? There is a time for rhetorical questions, but in the heat of discourse probably isn’t one of those times.

If any one person in a discussion hasn’t spoken in more than five minutes, chances are, it’s not a discussion anymore.
Unless you’ve accepted payment to give a lecture, stop giving a lecture. It is perfectly acceptable to stop talking when you realize this and say “I didn’t mean to hog the floor. Sorry about that.” It is also perfectly acceptable to accept this as sufficient apology and move on. This is easier to enforce when you both need a mechanical device to speak. Then, you just start with one device and set a timer on it.

A motion to adjourn is always in order.
Okay, I stole this from Robert’s Rules of Order, but the fact remains that for any discourse to be useful, any player must be able to pull the plug, at least for now.

The introduction of new or unforeseen elements in any discussion is not uncommon, but could possibly be treated with the same respect accorded such revelations at the end of a murder mystery — that is to say, none.
You know, at the end of a bad murder-mystery, the killer is revealed to be some complete and total stranger, some long-lost sibling, some past rival. Try as you might, you don’t find any clue of this person in the rest of the book. So, you feel cheated. You thought you had all you needed and you exerted effort to solve the puzzle and the author goes and pulls this crap. The same possibility exists when some new element is introduced into a discussion: “Oh, I forgot to mention that purple car seats enrage me! Grrrr!” Now, in any discourse, there is sure to be a bit of revelation, including self-revelation, so some leeway should be allowed. When a person introduces something new, a lot matters how they introduce it. Pay attention as best you can and be charitable.

It happens as it happens and it happened as it happened.
“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?” is a nonsensical phrase. It happened as it happened and no one can control how it has already happened or how it was already said. The implication in this assertion is that the original speaker deliberately chose an obscure way of expressing something, when such is almost certainly not the case. This shifts the focus away from the issue and toward the person presenting it. You might as well announce that they shouldn’t have worn those shoes.

Eat.
Don’t discuss stuff while hungry.

What, exactly, is wrong with everyone being right?
Just a reminder. By this time, I would have forgotten it, too.

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Our greatest battles are against ourselves.

We are the most effective opponent we could ever hope to face. We are an opponent that knows every strength and every weakness, an opponent that knows every trap door, back door, secret entrance, and hidey-hole. We can never hide from this opponent and we can never bullshit this opponent.

We will never lose against this opponent, yet we will never win, but we will hurl ourselves repeatedly into battle with this opponent until we are completely exhausted. This opponent is as clever, crafty, and cunning as we are, and will not stop fighting.

Next time you find yourself fighting an opponent, in any venue that pleases you to examine, and you see these pernicious traits, it might be a good time to verify if you’re really fighting who you think you’re fighting, or if you’ve just hung someone else’s clothes over a mirror.

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Eighteen is a good age. A lot of people tend to think that once you’re eighteen, you’re basically an adult. Except for the insane people, but who the fuck knows or cares much what they think. But most folks think that there’s something magical about eighteen.

With that in mind, I think everyone should receive a special letter (or some reasonable facsimile thereof) on their eighteenth birthday (the age is only a guideline, okay — extra precicious kids might receive the letter earlier). A year before, they should receive a somewhat cryptic note, reading “You’ve got one year left to be a child.” That’s all. Then, a year later, they receive the Introduction to Adulthood:

Congratulations. You’ve reached an age where most folks consider you an adult. At least we do, or we wouldn’t have given you this letter. Welcome the the World of Adulthood. As per our memo last year, by now you have probably realized that there will be some changes.

Don’t fret — we’ve all gone through these changes as well. While it might seem that you are being singled out, or that your trials are particularly pernicious, chances are, there are at least five thousand other adults who have gone through exactly what you’re in the middle of. Just swap around the names. This letter is from people who sat in the same place you’re now standing, and read the same basic letter you’re now reading.

This letter marks a change. Up until this moment, most of your interactions have been overseen by someone, and there have been people who spend a lot of their lives watching out for you and protecting you. Probably your folks, but maybe not.

That changes right now.

You’re an adult and that means that as of this moment, you are in control of your life and your happiness and, pretty much most of your fate. You might want to think about that for a while, because for the past seventeen years or so, you’ve probably not been told you have this power. Reading this might come as a shock for you, or it might come as a confirmation for something you’ve known for a long time. Either way, now it’s official. Now you’re reading the Introduction, so that means you’ve crossed the threshold.

The adult world is different. Everything that’s anything in the adult world is NC-17. It’s brutal and horrific and bloody and terrifying. It’s also beautiful and ecstatic and glorious and powerful. It’s whatever it becomes through your experiences.

Some of these experiences can be very powerful, some in a way you like and some in a way you don’t. It is your responsibility to choose experiences you want to have and avoid experiences you don’t want to have. No one else will be doing this for you. Not anymore. This is your job now.

You need to understand that you will make mistakes. We all do. No need to beat yourself up about it — just learn the lesson and move on as best you can. Maybe someone lied to you or maybe you didn’t read the fine print or maybe your expectations didn’t match reality, whatever. We all make mistakes. We apologize where it’s important, we try to clean up any mess we left, and we move on. As long as you treat mistakes as the natural things they are, then most reasonable folks will be perfectly understanding.

There’s a down side to this. There’s an up side, too, so don’t worry.

The downside is that you can’t blame people anymore. You control your own experiences, so trying to blame other adults is just going to result in people laughing at you. At least behind your back. So, if you don’t like hearing something, stick your fingers in your ears. If you don’t like seeing it, close your eyes. If you don’t like the taste of something, then don’t eat it. It’s simple.

If you try to control the experiences of other people, chances are they will treat you poorly, and you’ll probably deserve it. After all, they are busy controlling their own experiences as well. Likewise, feel free to ridicule others trying to control your experience. If you want to.

The plus side is that you have the power to seek out your own experiences. You can travel. You can write. You can create like mad, or get a job or build a house or join the Army or start a family or, well, whatever you like. It’s your life and only you have the reins. Maybe you’ve already had good training about running things, maybe not, but you can’t go back — from now on, you have your own reins and you control yourself.

Not everyone can hack being an adult and they devolve back to childish behaviors. Exhibit a certain tolerance for such folks — they’re just having a rough time of it. Keep in mind, however, that if they devolve — if you devolve — and refuse to act like an adult, then chances are good you won’t be treated like an adult. You can always come back, too, if you want.

There are probably a lot of other things that could be in this Introduction, but chances are they’re better figured out on their own. By you.

Welcome aboard!

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The Möbius Strip was invented by Alexander McTurlingdrone in 1964 partially as a gift to his paramour Jean L’Aufe. Ms. L’Aufe was well known for a peculiar flexibility and enjoyed a lucrative career as an exotic dancer. While she didn’t engage directly (as far as anyone can tell) in the thriving pornography business of the time, L’Aufe’s skills at contortion inspired many copycats, most of whom ended up in hospitals. The most popular hospital, Saint Richardson’s, in Wicker-Upon-Pant-Leg in Bedfordmanshire, England, had wings named after famous comic book artists and the wing that sheltered the battered and broken remains of the paramour of Turlingdrone happened to be named after well known comic book artist Moebius. The victims were brought in and because of the outrageous nature of their clothing, the first thing done to them upon arrival was the removal of the salacious garments, or what we call “stripping”. The procedure was only carried out by technicians with strong stomachs as sometimes these women had broken bones no one ever knew existed. The Physician at the time, was often quoted as saying “Holy cookie spanks, this dame’s turned inside out and rightside wrong and all cattywampus! I could run a finger all along her and eventually touch myself again! Time to do a Moebius strip!”

Eventually, because of a joint protest from the Milo Manara Institute for Naked Patients and the Society for the Advancement of the Diaeresis, Moebius was changed to “Möbius”.

The Resident Physician’s name? Alexander Turlingdrone.

Special thanks to Sandy, for inspiring today’s Reading from the Book of Seamus

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There had to be a time when primitive families would get up all the time to let the damn cat in and out and in and out. This must have driven them mad.

And then one day, a brilliant rockologist named Gung (or something) suddenly thought “Cut a hole, hang a flap” and the idea of the cat door was born.

The really, really, really brilliant thing about this idea, you see, is that until the exact second Gung thought this, it had never occurred to anyone, and then after Gung did it (or grunted it to some other person), the idea spread like wildfire. I mean, how simple can you get?

Cut a hole, hang a flap.

One moment, the human race opens doors for cats, and a split-second later, everybody just knows the solution, ’cause it’s so damn simple.

Cut a hole, hang a flap.

Most folks can’t figure out how no one thought of it before Gung, but, well, they just didn’t. Maybe someone thought “Gee, I wonder if there was some way to throw the cat at the door hard enough to make its molecules push through and remain catlike on the other side.” At least I know that probably would have been my angle.

But somewhere, somewhen, a person suddenly had The Breakthrough.

Cut a hole, hang a flap.

After that, life changed. Simple as that.

I suspect that a lot of the things that are gonna rock our world, that are going to transform us by presenting new and innovative ways of thinking (not to be confused with new and innovative plastic cases), are going to be of the same form. Somewhere, somehow, the right person’s going to connect the right neuronal pathways and, for example, try a slightly different electrolysis and then ka-blam — fusion. Or someone will suddenly on a whim realize that a stream of electrons will do Magical Things to cheddar cheese.

And after that, we’ll all see it just as plain as the nose on our face. And we’ll wonder why no one thought of it before.

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I have always known that people have interfaces. People have ways in which they model their interaction with the Universe around them. Sometimes it is their language, they way in which they speak to each other. Sometimes it is their body movements, they way in which they hold themselves. Sometimes it is via the rules of their custom, the way in which they were raised. Sometimes it is the way in which a lover or friend taught them. Sometimes they pick it up from a book, or a magazine, or a pamphlet, or a piece of nearly random graffiti half-glimpsed through a train window.

I think there are other interfaces, other ways in which people interact that aren’t necessarily so easy to spot as language or motion. I think sometimes, it’s just how the people are that makes the interface work or not work as it will.

A person can be beautiful, brilliant, possess the world’s largest heart, and be wise beyond ken. But if the interface isn’t right, none of that matters — there will always be sparks and conflict and a spreading loathing, sometimes concealed, sometimes not, sometimes not even acknowledged. Two people may be virtually indistinguishable from each other when arrayed with their friends and peers, but when faced with each other, the interference of incompatible interfaces becomes an opaque curtain of furious discharge.

The trouble, I think, that can happen here is when a simple incompatible interface is mistaken for more than it is, when it’s mistaken for something that indicates who is right and who is wrong.

Some of the world’s greatest battles have started out that way.

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