Infinite Stupidity

So I finally broke down and got an iPhone. It took me a while since I was waiting for the cost to come down and the plans to be worth it here. Am I glad of the purchase? Oh fuck yes.

I’ve only had it for a few days but it’s already made things easier for me and helped me stay connected to things. I can check facebook on my breaks at work, twitter when I actually think of something and keep in touch in more ways when i’m not at home. I probably don’t need to tell you about everything it can do.

Hell, right now I’m typing this on it. It’s helping me to write things when they come to mind instead of having to wait till I get home and can hit a pc or whatever. Hopefully you’ll all hear from me a little more often now.

Novikov self-consistency principle - A theory stating that if a traveler through time (outside of the Many-Worlds interpretation) could create a paradox (by killing their own ancestor, for example), the probability of that event happening is zero. IE, a person could not go back in time to kill Hitler, as a paradox would be created where the person would find no need to go back in time to kill Hitler, as he has already been killed. Therefore, anything that a future time-traveler will decide to do in the past has already happened as part of the timeline, for example, the time traveler has failed to kill Hitler in the past already.

Yeah, this is going to be a weird post. I don’t care who reads this one, since it’s more for me. If you’re reading it, good for you. You probably won’t understand it.

I’d like to talk about my best friend.

We met about 6 months back. Nothing special that first time, just a cup of coffee, but the roots of our friendship were already growing. Since then we’ve been through thick and thin, though each of our partners having issues with us seeing each other, as well as other events that should have broken up our friendship, but instead made us closer to each other.

I love her, and couldn’t do without her in my life. She’s my best friend, and she completes me.

I’m sitting on my front porch with a cigarette and a glass of wine, and I feel disconnected. Not too bad at the moment, but still slightly wrong somehow. I know that as soon as I leave my house, it’ll get worse.

I lost my cellphone today.

There’s something kind of gratifying about being able to get in touch with someone wherever you are. Knowing that it doesn’t matter if you’re at work, on the bus, doesn’t matter where, if someone has something important to tell you they can call you or flick you a badly written/spelt message.

I mean, it’s not as if it were a good cellphone. It’s a bit battered, totally cheap and outdated, but it kept me connected. That network is the key. It’s a way of never feeling lonely.

I guess I’m a little bit of an antisocial person. When I’m spending time with most people in meatspace, I feel a little out of sorts. I’d rather talk to someone via textual communication rather than face to face. Even the telephone doesn’t do it for me, because I’m a little underconfident flapping my gums at someone even when they aren’t in front of me.

Am I the only one who feels this way?

Out culture as a whole has a love affair with love.

I know, that’s a stupid fucking phrase to use, or it could be the best fucking turn of phrase to ever slither its way down my nervous system through my fingers and into a collection of ASCII characters. But it’s true. We can’t watch a movie, or read a book without some kind of romantic subplot wedged in there like the author was trying to balance their writing table, and half the time the pile of crap they wedge in there ends up tossing the whole shebang out the window and metamorphosing as so much horsecrap on the carpet. Most of the time anyway.

We can’t listen to top 40 radio or watch a music channel without seeing or hearing some whinging 20something writhing their way around something while lip syncing overproduced lyrics about how much they love (or as is invariably the case these days lust over) the boy/girl/creature of their dreams. An entire musical subculture - emo - has risen from the inability of some people to fathom that a girl (and it always is a girl) might leave them, causing them to get up on stage wearing sprayed on jeans and t-shirts and whine about loss and how they will never get over whoever (until of course the next time someone leaves them). Disclaimer, I like some emo, I probably know a lot more about the genre than you, I’m just working with the stereotype.

So, what does this mean? We have the concept of true love fired at us from all angles. We’re all taught from an early age that Prince Charming will come along and fuck the sleeping princess or whatever, and everyone will live happily ever after. Even though Mommy and Daddy hate each other and only see each other when it comes time to pass you on to the other, we still make googly-eyes at the girl with the budding boobies, hoping that high school romance will turn into marriage, just like on TV. Even those of us who have worked out that scoring a bit of booty every few nights and never talking to them again probably get the feeling that one day they will settle down with a single vagina, avoiding that messy escape route in the middle of the night.

I don’t know if I can say what love is. From what I know it’s meant to be all happy and squidgy and fun, meaning that we probably end up relating it to playdough. There’s nothing wrong with playdough, it’s fun. From the moment you make a blob with a couple extra blobs stuck to it and call it a racecar, to the time you’re sculpting a fairly realistic, if not to scale, portrayal of your own genitalia, it’ll never let you down. Not like love.

I guess what I’m trying to say here is fuck love. Don’t listen to the media producers and the sycophants. Go out, have fun, meet a companion. Hey, maybe you’ll find someone who makes you happy, and doesn’t end up annoying you so much after spending more than a few hours in their company that, hey, you could say you’re in love. But know that everything has a drastic possibility of changing, and live with it.
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Now playing: Mogwai - I’m Jim Morrison, I’m Dead

I’m still on this Derek Hess fix. And feeling emo.

Only took about 10 minutes to do this