I hate taking my medication.

When I was in the fourth grade, I had my first epileptic fit. I was quite young at the time, and I really wasn't sure what had happened. I was sitting in class drawing some pictures, and the next thing I knew, it was 2:00 AM and I was in the hospital. My parents were standing next to me when I woke up. I was scared, very scared.

My mother and father told me that I had a little thing known as epilepsy. I had no idea what that meant. The doctor explained what it was, and that I would have to take pills every day so that it did not happen again.

Let's cut to the chase. That was almost thirteen years ago, and I am still on the same medication. Valproic acid, I fucking hate it. It is used to treat more than just epilepsy. I hate it due to the side effects I almost always encounter when I take it. About an hour or so after I take my first dose in the morning, I begin to see black or yellow spots before my eyes. I also hate the way it makes my mind work.

Depakote is also used by people who are manic depressive. I am not manic depressive, but the medication thinks that I am. It causes me to think about some very weird stuff. I often find myself zoning out and drifting away into some alternate universe. When I was fifteen years old the drugs began causing me to hallucinate. I was in the car with my mom on our way to the gas station, when she noticed I was talking to myself. She said that I was asking someone a question, but there was no one in the car other than my mom and I. I really do not remember, which brings me to the one thing that I hate the most about my medication: Memory loss. I have a very difficult time remembering a lot of things. My girlfriend gets angry with me because I often forget what she tells me on the phone. My parents will ask me to do something like clean the house while they are at work, and I totally forget. To combat my forgetfulness, I write myself little notes. Like in that movie memento.

So E2 is interested in hate now. Some interludes are in order.



Infinitesimal.

Petit Mal.

My brief dalliance with "keeping things to myself"? Overwith. If I don't yell everything at everyone I miss the echo and I forget too much.

Grande Mal.

I've always been vaguely cynical about finding meaning in things... she put it super clearly. Meaningful? Okay, alright, now what? (So what). Even if you get what you want (assuming you knew what you wanted or that you want something) you're satisfaction is short-lived and you move onto something else. "The World is suffering." Well, maybe. (So what again) And none of us (us like me) are finding anything in Buddha. She's right about that again. That's just one more thing, one more empty bla bla bla.

All my dancing around the issue and I end up back at something emptier than nihilism. 'At least nihilism is an ethos, dude.' The problem with all the cynicism, self-doubt, and self-loathing is that it makes being a real nihilist (or anything else) impossible. You can't even dwell with any seriousness on how "awful" things are. Ten lifetimes in quotation marks and shallow observations.

A good thing I'm a "philosopher", at least the small horrors can amuse me, and the big ones impress me, however briefly. (Still and all, this is much easier to bear/ignore when you're in love).

I can't even write anything about all this, she said it better than me. And first.

*****



Egg-update.

Fortunately (or, perhaps, unfortunately) the strictures of third person narrative leave us outside the constraints of everyday decorum and we may espy one of Dmitri’s earliest poetic works without worrying overmuch about his embarrassment.

(Apartment 4)
    About you
    We know so much,
    And care so little.
    Even while alone, within
    The heart of our pulsating time;
    Glowering, wilting. Vacating.
    But, make no mistake,
    Your concerns are no prize.
    The emptiness revealed
    Is our thread
    To be cherished.

In point of fact, this poem was a lie aimed at disguising a brilliant and singular point of agony in Dmitri’s life. About her he knew so very little, and had begun to care so much, beyond even his voyeuristic cravings for gossip, beyond even the poet’s keen taste for observation. The others he forgot as quickly as he devoured them. Apartment 5 was no longer a mystery: a dilapidated family of Ukrainian criminals whose rent was paid in hijacked foodstuffs and brazenly heisted baubles. About Gyorgy’s leniency in this matter, the formerly aristocratic Dmitri had much to say, though no one to say it to. Similarly Apartment 3: here the ever-present kindly old lady, of robust Romanian descent, found her happiness in newsreels and, much to Gyorgy’s displeasure, that brand of nostalgic small-talk so characteristic of Eastern European émigrés. The scores of apartments no longer held his interest as they once had: he was contemptuous of their mundanity, though occasionally envious of the contact they had with her. He would fly into his reserved sort of rage when Gyorgy reported a hallway tryst of hers; late on those evenings he would sit in the dark, grinding his teeth and breaking crackers in half sometimes for hours. These furious, muttered crumblings failed as a calmative and had the less than desirable effect of dissolving his much-needed soup-sopping supply. In these crumb-laced hours of despondency, Dmitri would, as we expect, fondly-then-darkly admire his past, his delicate Claire, their silences together.

Haterlude


It ends badly says:
i cant imagine being more positive
It ends badly says:
i dont know what i would do
Everything ends too soon and too late says:
hahaha
It ends badly says:
i helped an old lady with her car the other day
Everything ends too soon and too late says:
I can imagine being way more positive
Everything ends too soon and too late says:
I'm fucking way too negative
It ends badly says:
that was the most positive i could imagine
Everything ends too soon and too late says:
I'm really pessimistic about myself
It ends badly says:
what do you do to be more positive? like shit that sucks?
It ends badly says:
how can you like shit that sucks

Motivate

Still feeling the Ob. I should move to Siberia and become an oil baron or an oligarch. I don't see any reason why I shouldn't. I suppose I'll have to learn Evenki and Russian, can't be any harder than German.

No wonder I'm such a complainer. I spend like 85% of my time on the internet doing absolutely nothing. New tactic: catalogue some actual daily "aims" and see if I do them.

Today.

  • Read 30 pages of Hegel.
  • Read 40 pages of Gadamer.
  • Do a drawing for Neon.
  • Clean up my room.
  • Get some beer. (optional)
  • That's pretty reasonable, although the Hegel is taking me a while due to the small ass print of the Zusatze.




Haterlude


Philip of Macedon says:
hate is funner than seriousness
Philip of Macedon says:
but less true
Philip of Macedon says:
generally
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
hahahaha
Christopher Plummer vs. Jacques Plante says:
I'm pretty drunk now 






I'm still, always, again a fucking idiot

You know how I always say shit like "None of us have anything"? Well, that's largely true, but there are a few possessions. Two in fact. Bonds and reins. Despite my whole Lee Hazlewood "I'm over her, finally, it's that day" schtick, I still talk to her on MSN and listen to her say things that make me completely furious. But instead of letting her know I'm furious and ending it there (like a human man would), I think it best to act all friendly and courteous and what not (like a fucking rube).

I mean, there is no question of me loving her again or "going out" with her again, obviously. But still, she has a ridiculous hold over me and every time I talk to her I end up attuning my state of mind to hers in some way. She's got reins and I've got bonds and it fucking sucks and I'm a fucking idiot for it.

All this Buddhist crap I've been reading lately isn't taking well either. It's only heightening everything, and Hegel sure as fuck isn't a palliative. He just makes me feel that everything I worry about is a symptom of "bad consciousness" and petty narrow-minded historical dust.

My problem (one problem) is that beneath all the misogyny and misanthropy I can't help but love the people I've let into my life even if they fuck me over a hundred times. I forget everything, I forgive everything and I probably shouldn't. I can't even hold a god damned grudge properly: I end up just being mad at myself for being so petty and then giving it up. My problems are the least of my problems: it's shit that I think is good about me that ends up being the worst.

Just writing that made me feel a bit better actually. Despite being enraged over MSN, there is still 1600 km between her and I, between visual reminders of me being a sucker. And that distance is soon to be multiplied by 10.

The winter can warm you up sometimes. I feel like the Ob today. Cold and luxuriously forested.

Pretty soon taiga will give way to tundra again.

(((((For my amusement during the long dark of winter.)))))

L'Innocence du Monde, La Criminalité de la Mot.

A sojourn abroad.
An entertaining weekend, which reminds me of what I used to be like and what I'm like now. All the Montrealers wake up at 1 o'clock. Rob's new music is off the cling clang; everyone else is solid gold.

A brief catalogue of events.

Day One: entertaining bus ride with George; mob-sesh at Reggies complete with George melting his jacket and 8 pitchers for 5 dollars (total); rambling harmonica duets; weed smoke; street bombing journey to Derek's show; Al Taib; finding a gangster's lid; wylin' at the show; almost getting in a fight but instead of a punch in the dome: 2 free drinks; ...the long walk home.

Day Two. Attempted breakfast meetings; mid-afternoon poutine; successful breakfast meeting; the exchange 2.0 with Peru and Geo; soiree at casa del Jerome; privileged video screenings; rolldeep to the Sala Rosa; imbibe liquors aplenty; celebrate Bobby's birthday; knuckle crushing; sleepwalk to Iris'.

Day Three: Enbreakfasting with same squad, vacating the premises forthwith.

Finished reading Silk, satisfied with it. Now I'm seeing everything in terms of trick shots and geometry. None of the angles are playing off yet. Every night, dreaming, I spy an errant parabola leading straight to her- wake up and: impossible.

Unreasonable (I'm observing you)

Unreasonably fascinated with unreasonable people and unreasonable things.

I'm reading Silk which Earl graciously lent to me. It's a very good book. I particularly like the following lines.

"The startled flock of birds rose in the air like a cloud of smoke released from a house on fire. The flock was so vast it could have been spotted at a distance of several days' march from there. It darkened the sky, with no goal other than its own fright."

I've been thinking about things I like to do, and things I dislike doing. Here is a list of such things.

I enjoy smoking drugs and drawing, swimming in lakes, dancing like a retard, staying up until an hour before I have to leave the house in order to finish a good book, eating delicious meals, sleeping in way too late, laughing at jokes involving barf, playing Ms. Pac Man, going to Halifax, and forgetting who to love more.

I do not enjoy smoking drugs and seeing people from high school, swimming in over-crowded public pools, dancing well, reading books that peter out 50 pages in, eating overpriced meals, not getting enough sleep, laughing at jokes made by employers, playing XIII, going to jail, or remembering why I don't love someone.

Them boys think cuz I been drinkin that I'm off my note...

So finally the day has come when Lee Hazlewood is correct.

'Some day you'll think "I don't miss her, I don't need her" but that day isn't today"

Well finally that day is today.

I'm back on my grind, serious. I mean I still like her and all, but my whole despondent teenage crying myself to sleep shit, I think that's extinctioned at this point. That's pretty good news for those of us like me who care about me.

In other news, the Montreal plan is fixin' up to be sweetness and light. And by that I mean getting stynko and destroying shit.

Fuck what you heard, Burkey-B is back in the saddle son!

Haterlude


It ends badly says:
i only hate out of love

Freunden

I love my friends; they're funnier than anyone else I know.

The girls that are my friends are beautiful ladies, the men handsome criminals.

Everyone else's friends are lamewads.

I'm going to dream about yacht trips around the world.

You're not very charitable

No, about that you are correct. "Politics" is an issue only quadrenniallly. Vintage Burkiana.

Why don't you vote.
Preliminary response
Skepticism about the value of the demos and its doxa.
Secondary response
The arrogance of opinion
Tertiary response
Self-worth issues
Real response
Indolence.

I hope in the last two days I've increased the fraction of my life that I consider "positive". And, for the first time in longtemps, it seems likely that this is the case. Minor setbacks aside.

An exercise in Modal Logic

  • I can't live with myself.
  • I won't live with myself.
  • I must live with myself.
  • I will live myself.
  • I live with myself.
  • We die together.

Old Friends

Insomnia and I have a steady history. For about 4 years I slept for 3 hours a day at most, with those rare exceptions due to excessive medicating. Now I sleep always 5, usually 7, sometimes 10. Aside from getting a more comfortable bed, the only reason is that I don't think. I'm beginning to think I'm a Bodhisattva, without all the infinite compassion though. Sent here to clear the air of thoughts without thinking about it.

Tonight I'm thinking. And not sleeping.

Of course insomnia would return hours before one of my two weekly, early morning classes.

It never happens when you have nothing to do the next day.

Absolute indolence and lack of structure is the key to a good night's sleep.

Hardwork and appointments are surefire ways of keeping yourself awake.

You'd think reading the Begriffschrift would do the job. No dice.

It's funny when you can tell at two in the morning that no matter what you try you won't be asleep even by five. I guess I'm somewhat of an expert, or maybe just an experienced dilettante.

Haterlude


Philip of Macedon says:
nflds independence is predicated on its relation to canada
Philip of Macedon says:
period
Philip of Macedon says:
QED
Philip of Macedon says:
end of fucking story
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
true
Philip of Macedon says:
same with quebec
Philip of Macedon says:
same with alberta
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
but I want to write about that
Philip of Macedon says:
same with everywhere
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
I think it's important for people to think about that
Philip of Macedon says:
its worth writing about
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
I want to publish it, like for eal publish it
Philip of Macedon says:
i hate these ppl that talk about quebec the most though
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
And I think Johnston illustrates it in a very moving and beautiful way
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
Way
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
Yeah
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
I find at least Newfoundland ... we have a sense of humour about it
Philip of Macedon says:
quebec in their terms means the north and south banks of the st lawrence
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
Like "oh, whatever, boy"
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
hahaha
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
Yeah totally
Philip of Macedon says:
you think in 1762 quebec meant fucking northern 
"quebec"
Philip of Macedon says:
get the fuck out of here
Philip of Macedon says:
thats no more quebec than cape breton is nova scotia
Philip of Macedon says:
you fucking anachronistic xenophobic ****
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
I know hahaha
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
Quebec is the worst about it 
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
They're like some Weimar republic shit
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
I don't even know what they are
Philip of Macedon says:
quebec seriously needs to get fucking real or get out of the got damn game
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
They're soooo convinced and insistent
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
Like ...
Philip of Macedon says:
weimar was at least progressive
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
this whole Gomery/sponsorship scandal
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
these separatist faggots try to play it off like it's this radically anglo-canadian problem
Philip of Macedon says:
quebec is all fuckin looking back bullshit idealism
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
but half of the guys involved are fucking francophones!
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
it's their dudes!
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
fucking ridiculos
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
yeah true
Philip of Macedon says:
i have no time for that shit honestly
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
it's like Gilles Duceppe in the leadership debate
Philip of Macedon says:
its like a whole party dedicated to destroying a thing upon which their very existence is predicated
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
one of the panelists asked him why it's okay for him to say
that the debate on gay marriage is dead after one referendum
but the debate on sovereignty isn't dead after two
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
TWO
Philip of Macedon says:
its like teenagers getting mad at their mom
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
and he just talked so much shit and couldn't come up with an answer
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
answer
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
I'm glad the Conservatives took Quebec tonight for that reason
Philip of Macedon says:
i think gilles duceppe's eyes are pretty much the clincher
Philip of Macedon says:
hes clearly a monster
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
those fools need to shut the fuck up and get down to the business of continuing to use our currency
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
for real
Philip of Macedon says:
imagine an independent quebec
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
They always act like they were robbed too, and nobody in
Canada gets more fucking ass-kissing given to them than Quebec
Philip of Macedon says:
thats a damning argument against the bloc right there
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
At least out east we can actually say that we've been dicked
around by the federal government
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
Yeah hahaha 
Philip of Macedon says:
just a thought experiment
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
dude
Philip of Macedon says:
think about the fucking maritimes
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
they actually made the argument that an independent quebec could more fully adhere to Kyoto
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
Give me a break
Philip of Macedon says:
highest tuition +taxes, lowest representation, least respect
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
They would need the investment dollars so bad that they'd
accept any law breaking multinational to fill the gap
Philip of Macedon says:
compare that to fucking quebec
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
give me a fucking break, kyoto
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
Yeah man, Quebec gets the MOST respect
Philip of Macedon says:
and the lowest tution
Philip of Macedon says:
and the most representation
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
Like everywhre in Ontario outside of Toronto and Ottawa is hardly shit
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
seriously
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
they've got the most seats
Philip of Macedon says:
the maritimes gets FUCKED
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
so fucking stupid
Philip of Macedon says:
but they dont complain even a quarter as mcuh
Philip of Macedon says:
not even a 20th
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
I can't get over the gall of Quebec, to be honest
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
it's fucking retared
Philip of Macedon says:
fuck em

The vestigial son

So, I just cut my own hair for the first time and I feel pretty great about it. It reminded me of my old friend Emi, who I haven't seen nor talked to in nigh on 3 years. I should try and contact her. Anyway, I had a hipster mullet for about 20 minutes, I felt 20% cooler, I felt like I knew something about bands and belts and so on. But, with the cutting of the hedge, the feeling faded. Now I feel more punk rock DIY, or Beyonce Knowles' style "independent". Fuck, I ain't need shit...cut my own hair fool.As per that blast of misogyny below, I was thinking about it last night and I realized that the fact that exceptions exist makes meeting someone worth loving so word up. Today: mitigate the hate with hope and a bit of vulgarity. The highs are worth the lows, but it never feels that way when you're in the trough.

I'm having seriously awesome dreams lately. Next weekend: Reggie's and the true-squad rollilng to Al-Taib.

The Gospel for Luke, according to Mark

Every time I talk to my friends their girlfriends are cheating on them. None of my male friends have cheated on their girlfriends since I can remember. In fact, I can only recall one instance, and it was AFTER said friend had discovered his girl's infidelity.

Shit is endemic, and it's depressing.

For all the chatter about commitment and so on from chickenhead dimes, you'd think self-control would be the order of the day.

But it ain't.

Well, fuck a bitch in the oh six, love is out, analysis is in.

Don't say: "Don't trust women."

I speak in generalities because them shit's is true. You want romance? Commit suicide and pray that there's an afterlife with John Donne in it. Because that's the only place you're going to find it this side of Christian Slater.

Haterlude


IT END - I need to buy time but first I got to find the coupon says:
I should be a translator... none of you english canadians know french haha
True shit is Hate shit says:
none of you french canadians know french either
True shit is Hate shit says:
if balzac heard you he'd vomit
I have no leverage other than myself says:
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh man
I have no leverage other than myself says:
I could slap you out of sheer delight from reading that
True shit is Hate shit says:
hahahaha
True shit is Hate shit says:
i love dissing

Enkyklios Paideia

I went to a strip club for the first time tonight and it was surprisingly unerotic and inoffensive. I felt positively faggotistic.

Anyway, after this much beer and this much thought I can't hate. Do what you will. Talk to me when you want.

Haterlude


Philip of Macedon says:
its pure fucking random hatred
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
I'm actually taking it slow with The Counterlife
Philip of Macedon says:
its the fucking epitome of no reasons
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
I love when Zuckerman's in Israel
Philip of Macedon says:
hahahaha yeah
Philip of Macedon says:
hes such a dick
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
Roth just kills everything
Philip of Macedon says:
i hate that fucking cezanne leave your family shit
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
hahahah
Philip of Macedon says:
dont have a fucking family you fucking ****
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
It's dope how Roth just makes the whole problem of Judaism
 pertain to everything though
Philip of Macedon says:
was it cezanne or manet?

Sittin' on chrome...

People who buy art are suckers.

Grift 'em to the grave.

Catalogue of the day's events (a la Marcus Aurelius).

  1. Woke up.
  2. Internet.
  3. Went downtown.
  4. Went to library, got out 3 books (Gadamer, Gadamer, Frege).
  5. Went to philosophy department, signed form.
  6. Went to "Norml" bought (1) can of Montana spray paint and (1) rusto fat cap.
  7. Went to "Paper Bag Junkies" to see Etienne and Chris.
  8. Went with Chris to "Ideal Coffee".
  9. Purchased (1) Orangina therein and played (1) game of Ms. PacMan.
  10. Attained high score with said game of Ms. PacMan, decided to leave on high note.

Actually, recounting the boring events of my life is boring.

I had a good day, it was nice out. I'm excited to paint tomorrow, I've never painted someone else's drawing; even though I significantly modified it, it'll be strange and entertaining.

I feel like a huge dork today. I need to shower. I have no insightful witticisms anymore. I don't know how my reading public will get along without a delightful quip every now and then.

Geistlichkeit oh six

In the spirit of positive living offered by Matt, I think I'm going to resolve to make my 4 day weekends into more than indolence parades and sloth festivals. Today, I'll return to the library, get some books, maybe I'll go visit Etienne on the way to playing Ms. Pacman at Ideal Coffee. Maybe I'll even look for some cheap Frege books somewhere.

In the spirit of minding my own business and keeping my business my own, I shouldn't get laced with Old Milwaukee and gab on the internet for hours. A secret-keeper and friend of the cryptic I am not. At least yet.

Some day I'll be able to not tell everyone everything at all times.

But that day isn't today friend!

Haterlude


Philip of Macedon says:
i cant believe him and husserl
Philip of Macedon says:
what a fucking asshole
Philip of Macedon says:
seriously
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
oh, the dedication?
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
yeah, what a lily livered ****
Philip of Macedon says:
just the whole thing
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
he sold out his fucking mentor
Philip of Macedon says:
heidegger isnt a philosopher
Philip of Macedon says:
hes  a thinker
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
haha
Philip of Macedon says:
shit, thats a dis i never thought of before
Philip of Macedon says:
thats severe
Philip of Macedon says:
and its true
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
hahaha
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
I like how Arendt disses him in that piece "Heidegger the Fox"
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
She's like ...
Philip of Macedon says:
heidegger is the thinker par excellence
Philip of Macedon says:
thinking hes past plato
Philip of Macedon says:
get the fuck out of here
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
"He was so good at seeing the traps other people were in that he couldn't see the trap he was in"
Philip of Macedon says:
plato went to syracuse
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
That's some true shit she said
Philip of Macedon says:
what did heidegger do
How you gonna rap in a burlap sack? says:
hahaha Levinas dissed Heidegger on that account
Philip of Macedon says:
he should have went to fucking nuremburg
Philip of Macedon says:
bitch
Philip of Macedon says:
hahaha

Sincerity, Frankness

Sincerity and frankness are not exactly the same thing. One is the province of rubes, the other of misanthropes. To tell the truth it is not necessary to be sincere. And to be sincere is not necessarily to tell the truth. One can be sincere and deluded, and, in fact, I'd say that often sincerity is a symptom of innocence and delusion.

Haterlude


Everything ends too soon and too late says:
I'm way too liberal sometimes
Everything ends too soon and too late says:
I'm a fucking pussy
It ends badly says:
true
It ends badly says:
im too much of a fucking hater though
It ends badly says:
hahaha
It ends badly says:
i hate at the drop of a hat
Everything ends too soon and too late says:
hahaha
Everything ends too soon and too late says:
I know haha
It ends badly says:
i cant help it
It ends badly says:
fuck em
Everything ends too soon and too late says:
Yeah
Everything ends too soon and too late says:
I used to get mad over your haterness but not anymore 

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.