Fear and Loathing in La Cabeza

Maybe it is the time of year which brings it on; ghosts of Christmas past, and procrastination present, and who knows what future. Dickens definitely knew the inner workings of the chaos ridden mind.

Now I realize I can't possibly directly state the items of angst which plague the restless soul. It's an out out damned spot moment, I suppose. Succumbing to such discomfort and uncertainty ought not be an option. It takes practice. You'd think enough time would have been put into that effort over the years to make a better mental state an easy achievement.

One of the things I discovered this year is that I am not playing with a normal deck. It may or may not be full, but it definitely doesn't contain the usual number of cards in each of the four accepted suits. Knowing that can theoretically facilitate reasonable compensation techniques. Employing such practices then, in theory, should allow one to balance out the pain-pleasure ledger to a manageable point so that pain is reduced to the level it should be. I place the ideal level of pain at 0%, pleasure at 75%, and neutral at 25%. I would be happy with that.

Another thing I realized this year is that it takes some sort of tangible effort to accomplish anything. The catch is that to do anything a start must be made before you get into the process which then yields a result. It's physics and nature. They say nature abhors a vacuum, but I say nature abhors happy humans. Just look around.

You want to go camp in Yellowstone? Forget it, they have privileged bears running around who seek out the innocent when you least expect it. They did that to a motorcycle camper when I was there. He'd obeyed all the ubiquitous bear rules by putting food in a designated hide it from the bear box, he did not cook so that his clothes had the smell of bear food on them. He jumped through all the hoops, but the damned bears tore up his stuff and wounded him anyway. They don't care.

Nature could care less. Look at the blizzards in various areas, causing car wrecks, pain and discomfort. Nature is far from pristine no matter where you find it. It is a tornado or toothy menace just waiting to ruin your day. If we were natural, we'd have no guilt about defending ourselves from its wrath. As it is we are told to feel bad if we build houses and roads and motorized vehicles. Nothing else in nature would forego comfort and survival so that wild beasts, bugs, and bears could run roughshod over it. Only humans do that.

Not only that but now humans blame themselves for the inconsistencies in the solar system. Other planets are experiencing similar changes in their climate. Not just earth. What should we do? I know, let's pay the dictators of countries with starving people, and tax those who fight nature for longer life and more pleasant survival. We can use lightbulbs which last longer, use less power, and which no one knows how to dispose of without offending nature or poisoning people. When mine go bad I am going to encase them in ground beef soaked in honey and leave them in the woods where bears live. Two birds with one stone, so to speak.

Where was I when I got off on the tyranny of nature and the rude nature of bears? Oh yea, I was pondering the uncomfortable feeling that threatens to suck the humor from my soul. I think it is guilt. Guilt that I'd like to do more for people around me, but I'm basically worthless so I don't. And guilt toward myself for the myriad of errors in judgement which pepper my past. A very peppered life, I must say.

Before anyone plays devil's advocate, I'll concede that nature throws us crumbs here and there. Beware, those are just bait for the trap. Sure you get powdered snow on a good slope, and the ocean looks polite and harmless much of the time. Next thing you know you are buried in an avalanche or a tidal wave, or being chased by big dumb hungry fish. Allegedly there is a balance which depends on sharks and cockroaches and any number of other ugly things. Without much explanation we are supposed to buy the premise that maintaining the status quo in this balance is somehow holy, spiritual, and good.

I'm not so sure I want to cooperate. Not to the point where it is illegal to defend myself against wild animals whether in human disguise or otherwise. What other species hates their own kind so much that they would willingly remove their own defenses?

Oh well. That is what I do; something bothers me that I refuse to openly address, or even clearly admit to myself, and I go off on irrelevant tangents.