Feels

Last night I saw my friends (as usual, probably more like two or three nights ago by the time I finish writing this post), and I’ll talk about that more in the next thing I write which will be part of the “Altered states” series of posts I’ve been writing, but I just need to mention it here because I might talk about some of what happened in this post. See I’ve been feeling pretty miserable today and thinking a lot as well and I think it will be better to wait a few days so my mood doesn’t colour my account of the experience, but I do want to write something just to get my feelings out or something idk.

It’s not too different from how I normally feel, that is to say for the most part my concerns today are the same concerns I always have or at least similar, they’re just particularly upsetting right now for some reason. Not really because of the experience yesterday, that was actually pretty nice and I’m back to normal now in regards to my state of sobriety, I think it’s more to do with the fact that I’ve got two weeks with nothing to do whatsoever ahead. I can’t fucking believe I’m saying it, but I kind of wish I had to go in to work tomorrow. I can’t stand the thought that I’m going to be stuck in my room alone for the next two weeks, this isn’t hyperbole I could very possibly not leave my flat or see anyone other than my dad for two straight weeks. I might go and see a film one afternoon with a friend, that’s it and even that could end up not happening.

It’s literally like being put in solitary confinement, it’s not fair and it’s so fucking horrible and I can’t take it anymore I don’t want to live like this anymore. I just don’t understand why I’ve ended up this way, I’ve done nothing wrong and I’ve done everything right. The only thing I can think of is my shyness, but it’s not that bad. There are people who are more shy than me who have “ok” lives with friends and relationships and something to fucking do on their time off. There are people who are less interesting, less intelligent, less attractive, less considerate, less reliable, and all those things at the same time (significantly so in a lot of cases) who are still afforded some basic fucking humanity.

I mean that really is how it feels, like I’m not even considered deserving of any warmth or humanity whatsoever. People are always lovely and sweet on those rare occasions that I’m in the company of others but yet it’s so incredibly rare for someone to make any effort at all to try and be a part of my life in some way. I’m not saying I deserve it or that I’m entitled, just that everyone else receives this treatment even people who are objectively far more unlikeable and unpleasant and I don’t, and I don’t know why. I’ve spent a decade trying to figure out what I could be doing wrong and all that has happened is the few lifelines I’ve had have dwindled away.

Ok there have been a few instances where people have made an effort, I’ve talked before on this blog about the few occasions at work where customers have asked for my phone number or to meet up, but the point is that it’s never actually led anywhere. Right now I’m looking at two weeks alone, I can’t fucking take this anymore I can’t take it I can’t

I just don’t want to live like this anymore, but I don’t know what to do I have no fucking option I have nothing I can do about it. There’s absolutely nothing I can do, there’s no one I can call or anything. I have two friends, one is going away and at best I won’t see him until four months from now but more likely it’ll be another year until we meet again or perhaps never. The other isn’t interested, he said he might go to see a film with me that’s it. I can’t just use this one friend all the time for human contact anyway that wouldn’t be fair, and he’s not in my situation he’s busy doing things with friends he made from work or hanging out with his family so it’s not possible anyway.

It really is like solitary confinement, ok I can go out anytime but for what. I can walk around and see people and everyone just stares at me walking around on my own like a fucking loser. Seeing groups of people just makes me feel even more miserable as well, seeing people at all frankly. I see them and I know that they have something to do, some reason to be out there walking around. Often on phones talking to someone, I have no one to talk to. I don’t understand why, I don’t know why I’m being punished. And I really can’t help but feel like that’s what’s happening, some kind of punishment. It literally is a punishment given to prisoners. I don’t know what to do.

It’s so fucking infuriating hearing people talk about things like a friend, a gf, an ex, a wife, a guy I hang out with sometimes, whatever like these things just happen organically. They use these terms like they’re just totally normal, totally whatever. I’m really struggling to articulate my point, but here’s an analogy (yes you may have heard it before). It’s like if you talked about going to get a burger from a fast food place or a sandwich from the shop, if you’re a westerner that’s completely innocuous. You wouldn’t even give it any thought at all, “oh yeah I went to get a sandwich earlier”. If you said that in front of a starving third worlder they would be completely shocked however, they’re thinking it’s a very real possibility they’re not eating at all tonight.

See I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with this way of speaking, if I try to detach myself and be “objective”. It’s an amazing thing that people can be so insanely nonchalant about food, when for roughly two hundred thousand years until recent history their ancestors had to struggle every day to get it. Yet in some parts of the world they still do struggle, and you can understand how if you kept this nonchalant attitude about food up around them it would seem offensive or at least difficult to comprehend. It’s not a perfect analogy, but I think it kind of works. All around me people are so completely blasé about friendship and dating, and it does get to me.

Frankly I sometimes start to feel like it’s a deliberate gaslight, people talk about these things like they happen entirely of their own accord. Men specifically in this case, because sure when women do it I can kind of understand as boyfriends and friendships will just materialise in their lives without any effort whatsoever, but when other guys talk this way you can’t help but think they’re playing some kind of mind game. Because when another guy is relaxed, or lets his guard down, he’ll tacitly admit to some difficulty usually. Only with vagueries like “It’s tough out there”, never daring to be explicit, but the point is made.

However, these people still manage to find their way in. They have friends, they have and have had girlfriends, they are a part of society. There’s that stupid meme “we live in a society”, but do we? You might, but I don’t feel like I do. I feel like I somehow fell through the cracks, and I would probably say some time in the summer of 2013 was when it happened, but maybe that’s for another post. As I said for so long I tried to figure out why my life is the way it is, why life and friendships/ relationships didn’t just happen, like they did for everyone else.

I thought my shyness was the reason for so many years, and I tried to change but it’s impossible. You can’t just brute force a personality change, you can’t just change how you intuitively respond to social situations. Then around 2015 the whole blackpill idea took off on places like r9k which I frequented and I was quite confused because I was pretty sure that my looks weren’t the reason for my situation, frankly my looks are the only thing I have going for me and probably the one reason I get the little help I do from other people (being asked out or flirted with by strange women, almost always treated nicely by people, etc), and I did start to doubt for a little while if I wasn’t just deluding myself but I realised that was silly of me after a while. So now I’m not sure what to think.

I have a general idea. I think that because I failed to form, or integrate myself into, a group of friends/ social circle at the usual (and crucial) time in life that most people do that I kind of fell through the cracks as I said earlier. The thing is, why did I fail in this? It’s nice to have this one sole thing I can point to, and I really do think that’s the sole cause for most of my struggle to find this feeling of community or comfort, but there’s still the question of why I failed in this. I can go further back in my search. Even if I were able to figure that out though, it wouldn’t actually change anything. It’s too late, it just feels like there’s nothing I can do.

I did have some chances I’ll admit, see one of the friends I met last night used to be just like me. We were so close for about two or three years because we were going through similar problems, and in fact he was the one who came to me and really started the friendship. Frankly, the residual appreciation for that one gesture (and the fact that I have no one else) is probably one of the main reasons I still make so much effort to stay in contact with him. Whenever we meet they always talk about how much of a great friend I am, how glad they are to have me but yet I’m always the one who has to call and arrange anything now. If I were to never call either of them again, maybe I’d never see them again.

Anyway, my point is that after we finished secondary school he managed to transform very suddenly. There’s this television show that was popular here in the UK, Skins, and while we were still losers he was kind of obsessed with it. He watched it multiple times over, and basically that was the life he dreamed of living. It’s about a group of 16/ 17/ 18 year olds who basically just do lots of drugs and party and hook up, there’s not much of a plot I don’t think but to be honest I never watched the show. So we were similar but I always felt a little disgusted by that life, I never wanted it. I wanted more close friends, but I was actually content with who I was whereas he quite clearly wanted to be another person entirely. I wanted a girlfriend, but I was never really interested in casual sex even immediately after puberty when my “drive” was at it’s strongest.

In fact I weirdly have always had this issue with sex and intimacy, where I kind of see the two as separate but yet not at the same time. For example, any time I develop feelings for a girl (call it a crush, oneitis, whatever you want) I don’t want to think of her in a sexual light, the thought makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong actually. Of course I want to be near them, I want their warmth. I want them to touch me, to hold me, but the idea of having sex with them is almost detached from that. The more intense my feelings are for them, the weirder it becomes for me to see them as a sexual being. Yet clearly romantic interest is related to the sexual drive in humans, I mean I wouldn’t have even developed feelings in the first place if I didn’t think a girl was attractive. I desire them, but because I also have this protective instinct I almost feel like I should protect them from myself and my desire, if that makes any sense.

It’s like some wires in my brain were twisted up, I have a slight focus on ideas of innocence and purity. I’ve always tried to project a kind of sweet and even perhaps naïve image while out and about in the world, and I’ll probably go into this some more in the next Books post actually or whenever I get around to talking about The Little Prince. On top of that I also look for it in others, which I guess is why I both create this weird dual image of a girl I’m into and why I was actually very content being a loser with my loser buddy back in secondary school. It felt oddly comforting to be the loser kids for me, I wasn’t out partying or getting in trouble I was still a child. I wasn’t growing up too fast, I had been warned that growing up was the worse thing that ever happened to a person and I really internalised that.

Going back a little maybe in part my desire for a companion who also still holds onto this youthful gentleness relates to what Michel Houellebecq said in his novel Whatever about being orphaned by the teenage loves you never had, and also what I was getting at in this post from quite a few months ago, in that I’m still looking for the more formative experiences with romance that I should have had half a decade or even a decade ago now. The problem is, I wasn’t able to achieve that then, and it’s only going to keep getting more and more difficult for as I said above why would any pretty girl stay “innocent” when she is both encouraged by the wider culture not to do so and given innumerable opportunities for that. I don’t just mean virginal when I talk about a girl being innocent or pure either, but all that that entails. There’s definitely a certain cynicism you can pick up on in women who have had many partners, and they might spin it more positively using a term like “worldliness” but it’s not a prerequisite. There are some girls who were just always kind of bitter, grown up before they ever grew up, and there are girls who’ve had a few partners who are still very sweet.

I got very off track though, I was talking about how I was given some opportunity. This friend as I said was desperate to grow up but while still at school with me found himself unable. I thought he was like me, and in conversations since we’ve talked about how our time together those couple years as very close friends were very wholesome, but I realise now and I should have then that he was aching to be out getting fucked up with the cool kids. So he did that, we went to different sixth form colleges (the school you go to around the ages of 16 to 18 here in the UK) and he managed to reinvent himself very quickly. He integrated himself into a group of friends and he got a girlfriend and started staying out until 2am drinking and I became a recluse. He did invite me to hang out with his friends a couple times though, he wanted to bring me in to the fold it seems but I just didn’t go.

There are quite a few reasons, I did go once to meet a few of his friends and that experience was very awkward and uncomfortable. My dad was always incredibly controlling and wouldn’t let me stay out late too. I remember I was at home playing vidya alone one evening and this friend called me saying he was nearby and I should come and hang out, but I was too scared to even ask my dad if I could go. I could already imagine what his response would be “You want to go out now? This is the time you should be getting ready to return home if you’ve been out!”. I hate him for that honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive him for the psychological damage he did by enforcing this attitude.

This same friend again on another occasion tried to get me talking with this girl he knew who he said he thought I would “get along really well with”. He really made a lot of effort for me, and I didn’t take it and I regret it so much but I’m not sure if I would do anything different going back in time either. He’s the only one anyway, the only one who made this kind of effort for me. The only person who actually tried to integrate me into society, who saw me falling between the cracks and tried to reach out to pull me back up. It feels like almost everyone else is given infinite opportunities to try again, life really does just smoothly continue around them without any kind of input. Friends, relationships, careers, hobbies, they all simply fall into place of their own accord.

That’s why people tell you to just bee urself, because that’s all they ever had to do. They just had to be, to simply exist. Anyway as I was saying at the start I’m just so tired of this, it really is beginning to wear me down. I mean it will literally kill me eventually, chronic loneliness leads to all sorts of mental and physical health issues long term. I just don’t know what to do, I just don’t know. This is a bad post, I just had to write my feelings down because it’s been inescapable today. I guess I was wrong at the beginning as well, I did finish the entire post in one evening.

Things will probably slow down again

My dad is getting back later this afternoon, it’s been a really nice two weeks and as predicted I was far more productive in these two weeks than I have been since his last trip ended around the time I started this blog. He’s not even back yet and I’m already having a harder time writing than I have the last couple of weeks. It’s been like this the last two days as well, I sat down to try and write yesterday and Saturday but I just couldn’t do it despite having a few good ideas for posts I want to write. I don’t understand it, it’s like the mere idea of him being around completely squashes any motivation or drive. I don’t know why I’m like this, in the week and a half immediately after he left I was able to get three pretty good (relative to the average for this blog, in my opinion) and fairly long posts out. That’s more than some entire months for me, one of them was the longest I’ve ever written so far.

I have less free time because when he’s not here I have to cook, go shopping, wash up, etc. on top of still going in to work, yet I’m able to write about twice as much. When I sit down to write in the main room, which is brighter and more comfortable, I can just open up a new document and start writing without any difficulty. When I’m sitting in my bedroom like I am now, I moved my stuff back in here this morning, I’ll sometimes have a blank document up for hours and be unable to write at all. I can also go back to a post that is only half finished and get right back into it with no real difficulty when I have no one around, as I did with the most recent upload in fact, whereas over the last year I’ve had several posts half finished in the drafts section for months on end.

I thought perhaps I was looking back on his other trips away through rose tinted glasses when I talked about them in this post a few months ago, but no this recent trip has completely validated what I said there. I’ve been so much more productive over the last couple weeks, not just in regards to this blog either. The place is also cleaner than it has been in years as I said in one of the recent posts, I’ve been doing push ups and sit ups multiple days a week, I was finally able to do my first tests with psychedelics (which I spoke about in both of the above linked posts coincidentally), and I finally managed to get in contact with my friend who I haven’t seen since last year and it’s possible though admittedly unlikely that we might end up going away together like we agreed to after all.

See, I’ve been alluding to my fears about losing the two friends I have a lot over the last half year or so but for the aforementioned reason whenever I’ve tried to write a post entirely about these fears I’ve been unable to. Basically, one of these friends I have been quite distant with for years now and I have talked about that but in the last half year I’ve gone from speaking to the other friend multiple times a week to roughly once month. Meanwhile, the friend I was already speaking to only a couple times a year was now not even responding to me when I tried to get in contact and plan this trip we talked about last summer. The problem I have is I asked for a two week break from work ages ago during the period of time we said we would go away, so now I have two weeks break coming up where I’ll be completely stuck if this trip doesn’t end up happening.

If this had been a year ago, I’d at least have that friend I spoke and played vidya with regularly to talk to like during my NEET days, he probably has no idea about this whatsoever but he was the only thing that kept me sane during that time. I’m going to be sitting in my room, I could very possibly end up not leaving the flat once the entire two weeks if this trip doesn’t happen, and I won’t even have him to talk to. My uncle won’t ask me to do anything because he thinks I’m still going away on this trip, and I’m too ashamed to admit that I wasn’t able to organise it properly and had to cancel it. I doubt I’ll even use the time productively to get lots of reading done, or to write more posts, because as I’ve said before there’s this paradoxical thing where more free time ends up making me more lethargic. I get less done the more free time I have, and of course as I’ve said in this post my dad’s presence also demotivates me greatly.

Now I’m supposed to be meeting both of them on Wednesday evening to get something to eat and plan this trip, but I’m just really wary about one of them cancelling or our schedules not being able to match up. That’s what happened last year after all, we were meant to hire a car and go on a road trip to Ben Nevis (the tallest mountain in the British isles), but we weren’t able to arrange it in time because it took so long to organise things properly. Instead we went camping for a few days in Dorset, and visited the town of Weymouth which I went to many times as a child and wanted to see again. Explaining to my uncle that the plan had failed was very embarrassing, which is why I’m going to have to lie this time if it goes wrong. I lied to my co-workers last year and told them that I went on that initially planned trip, partly because of how much I had hated explaining to my uncle that things had fell through with the original plan.

I don’t know what I’m going to do, what if he asks if I took any photos during the trip? I told my co-workers as well that I was just going on a camping trip, like I actually did last year. They don’t care enough to bother asking to see photos thankfully. Hopefully it’ll continue to be rainy and cloudy like it has been the last week while my break lasts, gif kinda related, so it won’t be so suspicious to both my uncle and co-workers that I’m so pale when I’ve supposedly been walking around in the sun all day. I was thinking that I might have to just go and walk around in the park alone for several hours every day of my break just to deal with that, jesus how depressing would that be..

This is a pretty pointless post, I just wanted to vent and also to upload something because it’s been a good few days since my last one and I’ve noticed on the stats page that people have been checking in daily. As the title says, I imagine the speed I write and upload new posts at will slow down a bit now but at least you know. I’ll probably start writing the next “Books” entry in a day or two so that should be the next post unless I’m hit with a sudden sense of inspiration to write about something else but that’s rather unlikely. I’ve also bought some 1cP-LSD which is a legal (in germany anyway, I had to get it sent here) analogue substance to LSD and has very similar if not the exact same psychoactive effects. So once I can find the time to try that I will, and I’ll get to write about it in the next “Alternate states” entry. That’s all I’ve got in the works right now, thanks for reading.

Books: Part 7

I just finished reading a translation of Xenophon’s Hellenica by Rex Warner, it’s the third “historical” classical greek work I’ve finished in the last year and I think I’ve had enough for now. I enjoyed all three don’t get me wrong, Herodotus’ The Histories, Thucydides’ account of the Peloponnesian War (which was by far the most enjoyable and worthwhile in my opinion) and of course Xenophon’s Hellenica as I just said, and I’m glad I read them. Some parts were just a bit of a slog to get through, and I think I’d like to find something easier to read next before going back for more classical works. I have this Oxford World Classics collection of surviving fragments from various pre-socratic thinkers which is translated by and includes commentary from Robin Waterfield who translated the version I have of The Histories. He also translated the four surviving works about Socrates by Xenophon and I have a copy of that collection as well. I’m not sure which to read first, but both will have to wait a little while.

I’d like to talk about these three historical accounts a bit though, and of course as I’ve been doing with this series I’d like to talk about whether it’s worth owning an actual physical copy of these or not. Now in one way they are all very similar, rather than fitting the idea of what we might think a work of history looks like today all three of these books could be described as a deliberately crafted narrative. However instead of using fictional events and characters to tell a story like a novel would, or to try and explore certain themes and ideas, they use actual events and real individuals. Each one of them is telling a story, with life, and about it.

That isn’t to say that anything is made up, or that these works are dishonest. For the most part they’re very factual accounts, Thucydides making the most effort to be objective and detached, but these works are not simply a listing of dates or a dry description of life in this period. Which is contrary to what I said in the last post in this series where I did actually say I’ve been reading a lot of dry history lately. I regret that wording, sure in comparison to an easy genre novel they are a bit slow moving but for the most part these books are very engaging once you get into the right mindset. I had to stop reading The Histories because I was not adjusted at first, but then after about a year roughly I picked it back up and I found myself really getting into it. I wrapped it up really quite quickly and then finished all of Thucydides’ account in just over a week, I was reading for an hour or more every night.

Xenophon is a little bit tricky with some of the facts to be fair, the introduction to the copy I have goes into quite some detail about it and I’ll talk about that later, but at no point does he just make stuff up. There are just some rather glaring omissions, but if you understand what he’s specifically trying to accomplish with his work then maybe that’s not such a problem. Now Herodotus does make a lot of pretty wild claims, he’s often referred to as the father of history but another very common epithet that has been given to him is the father of lies. The last few hundred years has been nothing but wins for the H man though, archaeological finds and information gathered thanks to newer technology has validated his claims on everything from the designs of Egyptian trading boats to the unusual customs of various different peoples and even the existence of an entire civilisation in the eurasian steppe. He did also report stories he heard on his travels of winged snakes and griffins guarding pots of gold and stuff like that, but at least he always expressed scepticism regarding them.

See what Herodotus is most famous for are his asides or tangents, the general overarching structure of the work is to tell of the rise of the Achaemenid empire (the first Persian empire) and their unchecked growth until they came against the Greeks, but he talks about so much more than that. I know that a video game analogy is going to make me look a little silly, but it’s like an elder scrolls game. In a game like Morrowind, Oblivion or Skyrim there’s the “main quest”, but along the way you’ll be sidetracked over and over again by innumerable “side quests”. It’s a lot like that, at least the first half/ two thirds certainly are. As we go along with Cyrus, Cambyses, Darius and Xerxes and see their seemingly infinite appetite for consuming their neighbours, we get to hear the stories, myths and customs of these many different places and peoples they conquered.

Herodotus of course was writing this almost a century after Xerxes’ invasion of Greece, in fact he was a contemporary of Thucydides although Herodotus being a couple decades older did complete his work first. Now it’s hard to date these works precisely because they didn’t have a publishing system like we have today obviously, Herodotus in fact originally used his writings for giving presentations at festivals across the greek world, and Thucydides claims that he started writing his account very early in the war that he was talking about. Which seems suspect to me, I think it’s more likely he began writing after his exile, but I have no good reason to believe that other than that it makes sense to me and the actual academics and researchers seem to take him at his word. You should trust them, not me.

Anyway what I was going to say was that Herodotus therefore was visiting these areas and describing them and the people there a century after the time period he was trying to talk about. The thing is, ancient history moved a whole lot faster than people generally seem to think it did. You often hear expressions like “the romans wore X style of clothing” or “the Egyptians worshipped Y” but think about it for a second. Imagine if you read in a history book of the future that “the americans wore the mullet hairstyle”. Sure for a period in the 70s and 80s that was very common, that’s all though. New clothing styles, a new religion or at least new gods, new material culture, all of these things and more changed constantly.

Of course deliberate traditions and very important ancestral stories were maintained, but life changed quite noticeably just as it has over the most recent century. So while you get a lot, and I really mean a lot, of that “this group do Z” talk in the book it’s a bit hard to keep track as he’s moving back and forth in time. He’ll get to a new region as the narrative moves forward, and then talk about the customs they have in that area in his own day. Even though by this point they may have changed quite a lot.

In fact people were often completely shifted around and displaced so as to be more easily controlled and taxed. This isn’t just something the Persians did, it’s pretty standard procedure for empires throughout history. You’ve probably heard of the Babylonian captivity, well believe it or not that wasn’t anything particularly unusual it’s just that jews are the only people capable of holding a grudge against an empire that died two and half thousand years ago. Amusingly, Cyrus the Great actually returned the jews to their homeland after conquering the Babylonians. He’s still considered a messiah by religious jews today. Weirdly Herodotus doesn’t actually mention this at all, he briefly mentions a group of people in Palestine who practise circumcision but that’s about it.

This is actually one of several pieces of “evidence” used to suggest that Herodotus didn’t travel to a lot of the places he claimed to have. I think it’s likely that he did travel to the places he claims he did, perhaps not quite as distantly (for example, instead of going deep into southern Egypt he may have simply visited some cities on the northern coast) as he claimed but a little embellishment isn’t such a crime in my opinion. Especially if you appreciate the real purpose of this work, which as I said is the telling of a grand narrative. These asides, even though they’re what he’s most famous for, are not the reason he wrote The Histories. At least it doesn’t seem that way to me, but as I’ve already said and I’ll probably feel the need to say again later my opinions are entirely unqualified.

People say that The Histories was a pioneering work in various disciplines, geography, ethnography, theology, anthropology, etc. and sure he certainly dabbles in all the things those areas of study focus on, but it is just dabbling. He has some cute ideas about the nature of the seasons and how the continents are all balanced perfectly which he talks about at one point for example, but these are just more of his asides. However much of a debt these various disciplines might owe to him, he was not engaged in rigorous study of any of these things. It’s a lot like this blog in fact, I talk about all kinds of things but I’m mostly just having fun. I’m simply engaging my curiosity, take this very post for example. I’m not a historian. I never went to university, I didn’t even study history at school after the age of 12. If you actually want to learn something you’re in the wrong place. When it comes to any of Herodotus’ personal “hot takes” on how things work or even on simple geography it’s a good idea to dismiss them, maybe appreciate them for the direction they led us in but that’s all.

The ultimate purpose is to tell the story of this civilizational clash between Greece and Persia though, in a way it’s closer to the epic cycle of poems (of which only Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey survive unfortunately) than to any history book that would be published today. After all the Greeks of Herodotus’ time took the Homeric epics as “history”. Sure they didn’t take them at face value completely, in fact Herodotus himself has a very weird idea that the entire Trojan war was a misunderstanding as Paris and Helen actually got lost and ended up in Egypt. This just goes to show that the trojan war was seen as a very real event and not merely some kind of myth or allegory or whatever. These people really believed in Achilles and Agamemnon and Hector and so on, they might have had theories about the specifics but the premise was taken as fact.

Not only that, but some seemingly believed that the accounts of literal divine intervention in the Homeric poems were accurate as well and not just a literary device or something. There’s a lot of talk about how pre-Christian religion was all figurative and the gods were simply seen as representations of certain concepts not as literal anthropomorphic beings, but that’s clearly not true. Perhaps there was disagreement, maybe like how today you have biblical literalists and also Jordan Peterson types who think the bible is just fiction that has a “truth” if you simply read between the lines.

If that’s the case, then Herodotus is certainly in the first category. He clearly believes the gods to be very real, in fact there’s another aside where talks about how old he thinks some gods are. See in Egypt he finds that Dionysus is considered to be one of the oldest gods, whereas in Greece Dionysus was considered to be one of the youngest. After all he wasn’t in Homer’s poems and therefore must have been born after that right? Now in fact the Egyptian priest he was arguing with was closer to the truth, as Dionysus and the gods in other cultures that he’s evolved from might be one of if not the oldest gods ever worshipped. He was certainly worshipped in Mycenaean Greece, although depicted rather differently than during the classical period, which was before the Trojan war. Or whatever events inspired that story at least.

I know what you might be thinking by the way, the Egyptians worshipped a completely different pantheon of gods so why would they care or know about Dionysus or Zeus or any of the Greek gods. It’s actually a lot more complicated than that, Herodotus basically assumes that most of the Egyptian gods were just analogues for the Olympians and seeing as there were priests in Egypt willing to get into debates about the age of these gods I think we can assume they probably had a similar view in turn. Think of it like how the roman gods were basically just the same as the ones the greeks worshipped but with latin names. We were all taught about that in school.

This is another misconception that a lot of people seem to have about the ancient world, probably in this case because of Christianity. Because this kind of way of looking at religion and the gods was basically the norm across the world or at least Europe and Asia until the spread of the Abrahamic faiths. Of course the gods weren’t perfect parallels with one another, as within any culture a god would evolve and change over time just like how in Greece Dionysus was “demoted” for a quite a long period of time before returning to his position as one of the primary gods. He was certainly worshipped a whole lot less for quite a few hundred years, around the time of Homer, and then seems to have become quite a lot more popular again. So the living “canon” (if you can call it that) of the greek religion (again, if you can even call pre-Christian spirituality “religion” in the strict sense) interpreted this as him being one of the youngest.

This evolution of the “canon” is another example of what I was getting at earlier in that to say “The Greeks believed in this rigid pantheon” is misleading. Not only did the gods that were worshipped change over time but even within a given period there were differences in different regions. This is just within the greek world, but Aphrodite for example (later syncretised with the Roman goddess Juno) was quite a different figure in the eyes of the classical era Spartans than their Athenian contemporaries, characteristically being more of a martial figure. The further apart in both space and time any two cultures were therefore, the more they would have diverged. They can only differ so much though, after all gods were generally associated with some particular aspect of human experience, and there’s a pretty finite list of those. Which is why in the Egyptian figure of Isis Herodotus saw Demeter, or in Amun, Zeus and so on.

Now Thucydides on the other hand, seems to be the more on the side that sees the gods as perhaps figurative, not that he was an atheist (again, if you can really use such a term in a pre-Christian context) but he certainly doesn’t seem to believe in the gods as material beings that interfere in the affairs of men. His account, unlike The Histories, focuses entirely on the corporeal realm. He talks about rites and sacrifices and religious belief as one of the things which motivates people sure, and he gives his opinion that certain acts that took place were sacrilegious a couple times if I’m remembering correctly, but he never once talks about divine involvement or the gods himself.

In fact the real purpose of this work, as he says early on, is to try and find the real causes of this war. In doing this, he builds a case for his view of human nature. This view is probably most clearly expressed in the passage that is now referred to as the Melian Dialogue. This is a discussion which supposedly happened between some representatives from Athens and the small island city of Melos. Now it’s quite unlike anything else in the book, laid out almost like a script this exchange between the heralds goes back and forth for several pages.

The Athenians start with the ultimatum that the Melians should either submit and be brought under Athenian control or be destroyed. The Melians respond with various ways that they might somehow both survive and keep their freedom, including that the gods will intervene to help them actually. These suggestions are dismissed one by one by the Athenians who by the end are almost begging the Melians to see reason and drop this idealism which will see them destroyed. See throughout this back and forth the Athenians are remarkably frank about how they see things, which is essentially if you don’t have an empire you’re part of someone else’s. There’s no pretext for this attempted conquest, no flimsy justification, they’re there because no one can stop them. Everything is expressed in this one quote from the dialogue that you’ve probably heard before as it’s so famous.

The strong do what they will, and the weak suffer what they must

In the translation I read it was actually “the dominant exact what they can and the weak concede what they must” but even if that’s maybe more accurate it doesn’t sound as poetic or have the same gravitas as the more well known version. The difference is pretty insignificant anyway, the point that Thucydides was making is pretty clear in both translations. It’s something that comes up over and over again, and I would say is the primary theme, the idea that life is nothing but the pursuit of power. If you’re wondering, Melos was sacked, all the inhabitants were killed or enslaved, and the city was resettled with Athenian colonists. The thing about the Melian dialogue is it’s the only time where Thucydides presents this perspective as something shared by others.

See there are a lot of speeches in this book, speeches that go on for several pages, and some are quite fascinating but others are rather dull. Regardless, in none of them are any of the people he claims to be quoting as shameless as the Athenian heralds at Melos supposedly were. Actually he doesn’t claim to be quoting the speeches presented in the book word for word, what he says is that every speech he gives is based on a real speech and covers most of what was said in that real speech. Now for the speeches from before his exile from Athens this means he very possibly is recreating ones he heard first hand, but the later ones he will have only heard of through interviews with other people who did or through reading transcripts.

Transcripts of particularly important speeches definitely were made in this period, as there are still some of which there are surviving copies of to this day. Pericles’ funeral oration (probably the most famous speech in the book, depicted in the painting I chose for the header image) is in fact seen as one of the most reliable speeches in Thucydides’ account because other transcripts from speeches at the same festival in different years are able to confirm both the existence of the festival (the funeral for the dead soldiers) and the tradition of a speech being given at this festival. At least that’s what I read on Wikipedia.

What I was saying though was that the other speeches might hint at this attitude, but ultimately present the usual pretexts and smokescreens you can expect from an imperial power. Of course I’m just talking about the speeches given by the various demagogues that Athens goes through during the war, there are also speeches given by generals before major battles and of embassies and so on. See after Pericles dies, fairly early on during the war thanks to the plague that hits Athens, there are a lot of men trying to fill his role. These are the demagogues, I suppose the most famous is Cleon, and they love to give speeches. I will say that even though Cleon was a complete cunt, assuming Thucydides is being accurate in his representation of him (which is hard to say, Cleon seems to have played a role in his exile from Athens so the two were far from friends), when it came down to it he was willing to do what had to be done. Read the book if you want to know what I mean.

The Melian dialogue therefore, an exchange that Thucydides couldn’t possibly have been around to witness, is the only example of an official on behalf of the Athenian state openly admitting that they were simply engaged in the naked pursuit of power. Every speech, is “we need to help this small city, we’re doing this for the sake of freedom, to spread democracy” (sound familiar). Now it is true that throughout the war there is this revolutionary undercurrent throughout the Greek world. It only seems to come up when it directly ties in with the war, but essentially in every city big and small there were attempts to wrest control away from the oligarchies and establish democracies similar to Athens. In turn, there were “reactionary” movements attempting to stop these democratic parties from seizing control. The impression you get from the book is that it was like hundreds of very small civil wars breaking out all across Greece, and the war between Athens and Sparta was like a big metaphor for this struggle.

Athens of course represented democracy, and Sparta oligarchy. Oligarchy is not meant in the very specific way it’s used today, at least in the English speaking world, but to describe any kind of system with a small group openly holding power. Today the term is generally used to describe a corrupt system where an economic elite hold the “real” power, despite there being a government that appears democratic in place. Yet some of the “oligarchies” of classical Greece were quite unlike this. Sparta being the perfect example, they had a very unusual system of government and in fact if it wasn’t for Xenophon we’d know far less about it than we do. My point is that the war between Athens and Sparta seemed to be representative of a greater ideological struggle that was going on in Greece at the time. See, every time a democratic faction took over a city ruled by an aristocratic elite they switched allegiances to Athens, and in turn whenever an oligarchic regime was established they tended to switch over to supporting Sparta in the war.

So the spreading of democracy was not entirely a façade, but it was definitely an excuse and the Delian League was absolutely just an Athenian empire in all but name. The small island states wouldn’t have been rebelling at the first chance they got if they didn’t feel like they were under Athenian dominion. I think that’s what really turned the war, more so than the failure of the Sicilian expedition. The war continued on for quite some time after that, and while Athens lost her total naval supremacy thanks to it she was still the primary maritime power, winning more battles than she was losing. It’s also what started the war, Sparta feeling they needed to pre-emptively put a stop to the growth of Athenian power before even they lost their freedom (although most of the inhabitants of the spartan area of control were enslaved).

This at least is the state of things that is presented by Thucydides, and he does have his biases. I think more importantly though, you get the feeling that he went into this project with an already established idea which he was looking to prove, rather than trying to analyse what happened in order to find out why it did. It seems like he had this Machiavellian conception of how states really worked (Machiavelli wasn’t born until nearly two thousand years later of course, but I would not be surprised if he read Thucydides) in mind and then went around trying to prove it. The Melian Dialogue stands out because it’s where he overplays his hand and all but addresses the reader directly with his own personal theories.

Again though I will stress that for the most part the account seems very careful to present what happened as accurately as possible, and from what I’ve read even to this day it is considered a very reliable one. You’re probably noticing that I’ve used the word “account” a lot to refer to what Thucydides wrote, and that’s because from what I understand he never actually gave his work an official title, but also because that really does best describe what it was. It has a very rigid structure, and it does it’s best to get the order of everything perfectly accurate so you can see exactly what events influenced what other events. Xenophon puts far less effort into this, which makes it a lot harder to keep track of who’s who and where they are and all those sorts of things, especially for someone who doesn’t know the region or the people involved.

The version I read was actually titled, it was simply called “The Peloponnesian War” by Thucydides, and I think that he’s earned that. I’ve noticed with the Oxford World Classics line they tend to do this and also they give different titles to things that already have one. For example, the Anabasis of Xenophon which is another work covering his time with the mercenary army known as the Ten Thousand is renamed The Expedition of Cyrus. Anyway when you read this, you are not reading a grand moral tale like Herodotus wrote, or the memoir of an old soldier like Xenophon left us, you’re reading an account (or report, if you prefer) on the war between Athens and Sparta that took place between 431 and 404 BC. Well most of it anyway. The Peloponnesian War is a perfect title, because that is exactly what you will find between those two covers.

I say most of it because Thucydides never got to finish what he was writing, he cuts off abruptly just a few years before the end of the war. Xenophon in the Hellenica then picks up almost exactly where he left off, which implies that Thucydides’ works were spread around quickly and were considered valuable right away. Xenophon wasn’t even the only person to write a follow up that continues from the point that Thucydides’ account cuts off. The introduction to the Hellenica I read actually suggests that another Hellenica (the term just means something like “concerning the greeks”, and was given to many different works) which only exists in fragments is more accurate and closer in style to Thucydides than Xenophon’s.

See while Xenophon claims to be writing a continuation of Thucydides’ account, and he even ends by saying that he expects someone will pick up where he leaves off possibly suggesting this as the start of a running history by multiple authors. The Hellenica of Xenophon is a lot less accurate and well structured. He doesn’t really keep to the rigid chronological ordering of events that Thucydides maintained and instead jumps back and forth in time quite a lot. Most glaringly of all though, and this is something I was only able to see thanks to the supplementary material in the copy I had, he omits a shocking amount.

Unlike Thucydides it doesn’t seem that Xenophon made any effort whatsoever to go out and interview or find out the details about various events, rather he just reports how they appeared to him at the time. See he was born to an aristocratic family in Athens either during or just before the Peloponnesian War started, and so he was living in the city when the war ended and during the civil war between Thrasybulus and the democrats and the thirty tyrants established by Sparta and it shows. The first portion of the book which covers the end of the war Thucydides didn’t cover and the immediate aftermath is very focused on what is going on with Athens. We get a lot of mentions of people that Xenophon would have known and admired, including Socrates actually which I thought was really cool.

Then, Xenophon goes off to fight with the Ten Thousand in Persia with the rebellious prince Cyrus and is exiled from Athens as Cyrus had funded the Spartans during the war and working for him was seen as a betrayal. So of course the history of what is happening in Greece during this time that he gives is very sparse. After that he somehow ends up fighting with the Spartan king Agesilaus with whom he went on to develop a very close relationship (even being given land and an estate in spartan territory) and from then on the book is basically completely written from the Spartan perspective. A perfect example of this is that we know from other contemporary writings and archaeological findings that in the decades following the war the Athenians eventually went on to found a second Delian league and were slowly rebuilding their empire, but Xenophon doesn’t even mention this once.

He also deliberately refuses to name individuals he considered dishonourable, and doesn’t mention dishonourable things that those he did admire did in an attempt to clean their memory up. There are footnotes at the bottom of almost every page correcting the record so to speak, it really does kind of ruin the experience of reading it actually. The man who wrote the introduction (a different man to the one who actually did this translation, but the translator himself isn’t much friendlier) seems to have no respect for Xenophon at all and at one point there’s a very passive aggressive remark comparing him to Diodorus (a later historian of the Hellenistic period) who was apparently a “real” historian unlike Xenophon. It really does take away from the experience when the very translator seems to have a disdain for the man he’s translating.

You see, this wasn’t made clear in the copy I bought (Penguin Classics version) but I read elsewhere that Xenophon only ever really intended to share his Hellenica with friends and people he knew personally. It was much more like a memoir, his history. Now on the one hand I have some doubt about this, I mean the one time he mentions himself he uses a pseudonym, even Thucydides was willing to mention himself by name when he had to, but it is true that the narrative basically follows his life. It starts during the end of the Peloponnesian War as he was becoming an adult, and it ends in the 360s BC not long after Spartan hegemony over mainland Greece is broken by the Thebans and with him as an old man.

I also like how in a way you can piece together a sort of narrative arc that covers all three works, from the wars with Persia and the start of the era that is referred to by historians as the classical period until only a couple of decades before Philip of Macedon and his son Alexander the Great were to usher in the Hellenistic era. It really is the tale as well, of Athens and Sparta in particular, the two cities who together led the opposition to the Persian invasion. In the aftermath of that war they both rose to prominence as the two major powers in Greece, Sparta on land and Athens at sea, eventually leading to the huge clash that was the Peloponnesian War. When the war ended and the Thebans insisted on the destruction of Athens, the Spartans refused.

Athens then went on to rebuild itself, in large part thanks to the work of the great military general Iphicrates, soon fighting against the Spartans again as an ally in the Corinthian War. Yet later, after the treacherous Thebans smashed the Spartan force at Leuctra and were ravaging the countryside of Laconia (The region where Sparta was located) the Athenians were the ones who came to help them. The Thebans really do seem to have been almost inherently treacherous by the way, all three of the works I’ve talked about make them seem this way. From fighting on the side of the Persians during Xerxes’ invasion, to refusing to hand back the enemy dead under truce as was custom multiple times, sneaking into Platea early during the Peloponnesian War and so on.

Xenophon finishes off his account with the battle of Mantinea, a battle which weakened all the Greek states and probably left them open to the conquest by Macedon that followed soon after. In it, Xenophon’s own son fought and died, and the Spartans and Athenians fought side by side once more. So there you have it, three different ways of telling history. An epic multi-generational overarching view, a detached eyewitness account, and a personal memoir from someone who lived in the thick of it all that together tell the story of classical Greece.

All three are incredibly important for their role in the development of history as a study, even Xenophon’s Hellenica. After all, for all the snark from the translator there’s a reason that it has survived to this day when so many writings from the classical world have been lost. I’m really glad I read all of these, I know that this post is a bit all over the place and I’m sure that an actual scholar of the subject who read it would be cringing at how much I’ve probably misunderstood or got wrong, but I wanted to talk about them. I’ve really enjoyed my time with the Greeks over the last year or so, ancient Athens and Sparta have been nice to escape to.

The real question though, is whether it is worth actually buying a physical copy of these in this day and age when you can probably find a PDF for free online. Well, I can certainly say that I’ve had to return to all three already to find certain passages while writing this post up, and it’s very possible that events in these books might be referenced in the books I plan to read soon which might give me another reason to return to them. I also plan to read through all the endnotes for The Peloponnesian War. See I mentioned before that the copy of the Hellenica I have had footnotes at the bottom of every page, but for the other two books the notes were all at the back. Now I already read through the notes for The Histories a while ago, as a sort of recap because I had read the first half of the book and then dropped it for a year, and I think it will be useful to do the same for The Peloponnesian War. So I think it is worth holding on to these.

Now I started this series to talk about books I already owned when starting part 1, I don’t want it to be a running series like the “Alternate states” one I’ve just started probably will be, so even though I did actually buy one or maybe even two of these since that first post from now on if I buy a new book and talk about it here it won’t be part of this series. Not that you probably care, I’m just saying that for me. Anyway, if you enjoyed this post or found what I talked about interesting then I highly recommend you find a translation of the three books I talked about if you haven’t already.

Link to Part 6

Link to Part 8

Alternate states: Test 2

Before

I wasn’t planning on doing a “before” this second time, but I’ve just got home (I decided I would go out for a walk in the end) and I feel really shitty right now so I’ll take the excuse to vent about it.

I guess it wasn’t a night walk, but more of an afternoon walk. It’s half past eight now and I got home about half an hour ago. I left as soon as I uploaded the last post, which was I think around five-ish. The walk itself was pretty uneventful, I walked down and along a similar route that the bus ride I took in the last walk I made a post about went down. I stopped to sit for a while at one point, and later on I walked right past the restaurant I went to with my co-workers a few months ago.

Of course I’ve walked past it hundreds of times in my life, I used to live a few minutes walk away from it just behind the town hall actually before moving to where I live now. It’s noteworthy because when I noticed it I briefly thought about them, my co-workers that is. What are they doing right now? Well one is working I think, but most are probably out enjoying the evening doing typical normie things with good company. They’re happy, I bet. I’m not envious I wouldn’t say, I’m glad for them. I can’t help but feel like it is unfair, that’s all. It would take so little for me to be happy, not even a gf just having a couple of friends who actually wanted to spend time with me like I had when I was at school would be nice. I’ve always been a bit of a loner, but the last year it’s gotten worse than it ever has been. I have basically no one in my life.

I’ve done everything that I’m supposed to, I’m considerate and I’m a good listener and when I am able to relax and act normal people generally seem to enjoy my company. I can make people laugh, and I can hold their attention. People do tend to like me that’s what I don’t understand, but yet I’m a complete outcast. Always kept at a slight distance.

Eventually I ended up at a book store, again one I’ve been to hundreds of times before but the last time was half a decade or more probably. Notice how I say that a lot on this blog, I guess I haven’t really done anything in the last half decade.. I went up to the second floor and the history section, and started looking through the stuff they had on the second world war and the third reich. I was just trying to pass the time, I also had a look to see what translations they had of The Iliad and Odyssey as I’ve been considering re-reading them but in verse this time and there was a book about recent genetic studies from the Anglo-Saxon migration period that I almost bought a copy of.

At some point this small jewish woman started talking to me, at least she claimed to be but she also stopped herself from saying she was “part black” just before that so I’m a little suspicious. I think it was actually just a normal old (not that old, my guess would be she was in her late 50s) woman looking for someone to talk to, some human contact. She saw what I was looking at, and so decided to give a normie/ boomer take about how it’s important that we learn about that regime so it never happens again. The usual thing you’ve all heard before.

Now I wouldn’t call myself a fascist I don’t think but the idea of a socially right wing authoritarian regime seems preferable to the current state of affairs in this country if I’m being honest, I contained my power level however. I went along and agreed with her sentiment, “of course, terrible period indeed yes”. I tried to contribute to the conversation a little because I felt bad for her, she seemed lonely, but it was hard to follow along. She went away for a while and then later came back, she had this hot take about the second world war and “empire” as a concept or something and then she left.

I left the shop myself a little after that, I then sat down in this very small park right outside the shop and observed the other people around me. There were a few couples, and I noticed that while some of the women seemed like they might have been young-ish (around my age, or slightly above) not a single one of the men looked younger than 30. They all had beards as well, those well groomed two or three week old looking beards.

I realised as well while sitting there that I don’t even really see other men as “competition”, like most men seem to view one another. I don’t mean that in an arrogant way, like I’m implying I’m not concerned about them being better looking or more confident or rich or whatever the fuck women want, because clearly I’m actually losing in that regard seeing as I’m still a khv and they’re not. What I mean is that I never catch myself comparing myself with other men, I never look at a couple and think “he’s more/ less [whatever important trait] than me”, which does seem uncharacteristic compared to other robots/ incels who obsess about things like “being mogged” or “being inferior”, etc. You also get a lot of complaints by robots who see men they consider as worse than them getting laid while they can’t.

Just for the record and I know this is going to make me seem like a bit of a shitty person but I don’t really care anymore, after this realisation in the park I started making a deliberate effort as I walked home to compare myself with other men who looked like they were in a couple. And I would generally say that I was better looking (and taller, something 4chan likes to remind me of the importance of every day) than most of them, and there were quite a few couples as it’s a Saturday evening in a busy area with loads of bars, pubs and restaurants. I saw plenty of women who I would consider to be “out of my league” (although again, all women are out of my league) walking alongside, holding hands with, or kissing men who as I said were not as attractive as I am.

I know that some people might start to think of the “they must be rich then” cope, but that’s not the case. These were similarly aged (late 20s/ early 30s) hipster couples in a middle class area, these were just normal relationships. They were archetypal normalfags, peak normie if you will.

I feel gross saying that stuff about how I am in comparison to other guys btw, just as gross as it probably felt to read it, but it’s true. I’m not saying I’m remarkably good looking or anything like that, but I realise now that I am reasonably handsome and I don’t need to try and do this whole fake modesty thing because I feel uncomfortable ever saying something positive about myself. I’ve had enough experiences to justify that statement and view of myself, I’ve talked about this in other posts already. I’ve been told that I am by quite a few people, including several who were not related nor had any reason to try to merely flatter me.

I think I bought into the blackpill meme too hard and started to doubt my own fucking eyes, but I know what I look like. I see myself every time I brush my teeth. Frankly holding onto the black pill when it’s false means I’m not moving in the right direction, and it is false. There’s some truth to the lookism subject, and sure for other incels the way they look plays a role in their situation more but not in my case. There’s doesn’t seem to be one “pill” meme that fits everyone in this situation, unfortunately.

I got completely distracted though, I had an insight which I thought was interesting. See I don’t compare myself with other men generally sure, but I realised that I often compare myself with or feel like I’m competing with women. Not just women in relationships in fact, any woman I see, just one of the customers I might see while working for example. There’s this idea in the blackpill/ incel community of the “looksmatch”, the idea being that in the fair world or the incel utopia or whatever that men and women will be matched with someone of equal attractiveness to themselves. This of course builds on the foundational beliefs of incel ideology, which are that

a) women and men only care about looks when it comes to a partner

b) women in modern society are able to date/ sleep with men who are far more comparably attractive than themselves with relative ease

I actually would say I agree with the second one for the most part, but the first seems untrue to me. Looks are important sure, maybe even the most important thing when it comes to finding a partner, but not solely important. The problem is that men and women aren’t comparably attractive when you take the two groups as a whole. There was this OkCupid study which showed that women rate like 80% of men as below average, whereas male cumulative ratings actually distributed women fairly evenly across the standard 1 to 10 scale usually used for rating attractiveness. I can’t be bothered to find the link, but it should be easy to find the study it’s been talked about so much. I’ve linked to it in other posts as well. So basically in the eyes of men, 10% of women are a 1/10, 10% are a 2/10, and so on.

Therefore there must be other factors as well as physical attractiveness that spread men more evenly along the 1 to 10 scale. A woman will be a 6, thanks to looks, but the male “6” that she “should” match up with is a “6” thanks to a variety of factors including but not limited to looks. As I said though, these days a female “6” can get a male “8” with no trouble at all, at least for casual sex. Of course there is no should, I might have an authoritarian streak but I can’t bring myself to suggest anything like this should be enforced. I suppose in the worldview of a lot of incels this didn’t need to be enforced in the past it just happened naturally until one day something changed.

We’ve all seen this ancient meme from /r9k/ before haven’t we? Or at least I think it’s from /r9k/ it certainly has been posted there over and over probably since it was still called robot9000.

CqdGGwwUAAAdEnt.jpg

Well it illustrates the idea perfectly, the left hand side is what incels generally speaking seem to think is the fair and natural order of things. Now, I just don’t think it is. I don’t think reality works out so neatly, as nice as it would be to have things end up that way. I would say that the right image is a little exaggerated also, as I’ve talked about before there is a weird cope I’ve noticed where some incels try to make it seem like their situation is more common than it actually is.

What I think though, is that this image and the culture that produced it have seeped into my unconscious and so that’s why I compare myself to women rather than men. Every woman I meet I think, “is she above or below me” on this stupid made up totem pole. What’s so crazy is that a good amount of the women who’ve shown interest in me or approached me I would have considered to be above me. While several of my oneitises or crushes (all of whom never seemed to feel similarly about me), whatever term you prefer, in retrospect I probably considered lower than me on there. My self perception fluctuates quite a bit though, as I’m sure any long term reader realises.

Either way though, to compare myself with women is incredibly feminine. Literally, it’s what women do. I imagine I’m not the only one doing it either, I bet a lot of people from r9k have picked up a similar habit. It’s funny I never really experience the usual macho posturing stuff when talking with other guys as well. Sure me and my two friends (if they’re still my friends, it’s been a year since we met up last and I’m starting to feel like they’re drifting away from me for good this time) joke about and insult each other in good humour, standard male friendship stuff you know. I’m talking more with men I’m not close with, my co-workers, male customers, etc. When I see two other men interact there’s this tension, almost sizing one another up. I don’t do that, like I said I don’t have this view of them as “competition”.

I’m not comfortable around most people, but generally speaking I’m a little more comfortable around men than women. Whereas most men seem more at ease in the company of females, I’m the opposite. I’m not sure what other men think when I’m around them, but I feel like because I am this way it puts them at ease. Which again you could say makes me into more of a feminine figure. I don’t know I’m just kind of speculating pretty wildly now, this was meant to be a quick little thing to vent but I got completely sidetracked.

Continuing with the walk, for the last step instead of following the street I walked back through another park near where I live. I was listening to Lonerism by Tame Impala at the time with my headphones and I eventually had to cross this big field which was filled with people. See during summer loads of groups come out to just sit there and stuff, when I was a little boy I was taken along there many times, and people set up barbecues and serve drinks or have picnics. So I was walking through the dirt path right through the centre of the field surrounded by all these people, and the specific song that was playing was Keep On Lying. See the song ends with this section several minutes long that’s intended to sound like a dinner party that you’re not involved in. It’s meant to sound like you’re at this dinner party, but no one is acknowledging you exist and you’re kept out of every conversation. So you’re surrounded by people, but yet completely invisible. I just thought there was a certain irony in the way that synched up.

I then went to a small supermarket on the street just below where I live, bought some lemon juice because it supposedly helps with the nausea from the seeds I’ll be taking tomorrow, and considered going to buy alcohol but decided against it.

I’m feeling a lot better now, it’s been a few hours since I got home, but I was not feeling good at all when I started writing this. Going out there, seeing all the normal people with their normal lives that just fell into place without a second thought for any of them, it does get you down. I just feel so insignificant, I’m nothing. I have no value, I have no desires or passions to pursue, I do honestly sometimes wish I just hadn’t ever been born. I don’t enjoy being alive. I don’t have much else to say either, but for the sake of science (really just because I wanted to vent), this is the general state of mind I’m in at the moment before going into this trip. That is, assuming I didn’t also get screwed on these other seeds as well.

After

Ok, these were definitely not duds at least, but I would hesitate to describe my experience yesterday evening as psychedelic. I’ve been going over in my head how I should explain what happened, since last night even. I tried to write down how I was feeling as it was happening but I just couldn’t concentrate. See it’s a bit of a blur now, and I think that I might miss some stuff but I’m going to go through the day’s events chronologically and hopefully cover as much as I can.

So because I wanted to avoid the nausea which supposedly comes with eating so many seeds, I originally tried 130, I decided to attempt a cold water extraction of the LSA in the seeds. So I boiled some water in the morning for some instant ramen and I poured about 100ml extra into a small container and left it to cool. When it got to room temperature I then put it into the fridge to get colder, and I wrapped the container in tin foil. A little after midday, maybe closer to one o’clock, I took the seeds and using my mother’s old coffee grinder I made a powder out of them. I then dropped about three lids worth of the lemon juice I bought the night before into the water and scooped the powder out of the grinder and dropped it in there also. I then left it in the fridge, completely covered with tin foil and went back to stir it every 15 to 20 minutes for about an hour or so.

At around half past two, I poured the drink into a glass using a folded up piece of kitchen towel to filter out the seed matter/ gunk. I then drank it all, and waited for a while. The seed matter I threw away, only eating the little bits that got stuck on my fingers. I began to feel ever so slightly nauseous after about 20 minutes or so, but that was about it. Other than that I felt pretty much normal, in fact at four o’clock I was still feeling normal and I was disappointed that the seeds had again not worked. I began to do some more reading about this cold extraction technique and realised that I may have made a few mistakes. The water was not boiled in an open container, I might have not left the seeds in the solution long enough, etc. So I took out another hundred seeds, and just chewed them up and swallowed them straight, with a can of fizzy pineapple juice to wash them down.

Now, I still experienced almost no nausea at all the entire evening. In fact the slight stomach discomfort I did already have seemed to go away after eating the second batch of seeds. What happened was I gradually began to feel very sleepy, sedated almost by the time it really got going but the onset was very gradual. It was so slight at first I thought I was experiencing some kind of placebo effect, like how when you’re a little bit drunk but can seem more so in the right circumstances. I’ve noticed this a lot, if you have a desire to be drunk and you drink a little you can almost will yourself to be more affected by it than you might otherwise be. This is something a lot of people drinking in groups will do, they are almost high on the energy of the moment. Alternatively when you’re very drunk, I find that if you really sit down and concentrate you can bring yourself a couple of degrees closer to sobriety for a brief moment. This might be what people describe as “letting go”, giving into the drug rather than trying to keep as much self control as possible.

The thing is, with this experience yesterday I didn’t feel very much like I wasn’t in control of my thoughts. I wasn’t mentally sober exactly, I was definitely in what I at the time felt was an alternate state of consciousness to day to day life (I actually changed the original title of the last post later that night because I liked that wording), but I was still lucid for the most part. More than anything my body was what was affected by the seeds, I actually felt quite detached from it. I couldn’t completely control my arms or legs, walking around was like being in a moving vehicle. I remember swaying from side to side and almost losing my balance trying to walk to the bathroom to piss. It took me a long while to will myself to go and take a piss in the first place as well, I sat there on the floor knowing I needed to go for a good 20 minutes before I managed to push myself to stand up and go do it.

When I finished I looked into the mirror, again because I was wondering if I was just being weird or if this was the drug and after seeing how much my pupils had dilated I can pretty conclusively say that I was definitely not just imagining it. I’ve never seen my pupils that large ever, they were presumably pretty big when I took 2C-B but that was in a field at night in the countryside so there were no mirrors for me to check at the time. I then came back into the main room and with any doubt I had now put to rest I was able to relax and just enjoy it. Again though this wasn’t a psychedelic trip at all, it was far closer to the experience you have with alcohol.

There were no changes to my visual perception whatsoever at any point during the evening, there were neither open nor closed eye visuals of any kind. I also didn’t experience what I did when taking 2C-B where I was connecting all these different things in my mind. I was certainly thinking about things, my mind was very active and I kept trying to start writing my thoughts down but I was so drowsy and sedated almost that any kind of expense of energy was very draining. I do wish I had gotten a few more notes down though, I think that just the ideas alone I had could have been the inspiration for a few different posts. I do have another 270 seeds left, so I will consider taking those again some other time and trying to make sure I do write down my thoughts.

The only effect I can recall that does seem to sound like what I’ve been told psychedelics are like is that the music I was listening to sounded so much better. I never really planned the evening out much see, so I didn’t have music set up in advance. Once I realised I was probably going to be too lazy to do anything other than listen to music, after taking five minutes just to walk back from the bathroom to the main room, I brought spotify up on my laptop and just scrolled through the albums I have saved looking for something. The thing is, nothing there seemed quite what I was looking for, until I saw Era Extraña by Neon Indian. Now I’ve only listened to it once, someone on /mu/ recommended it and I had left it saved but I didn’t really enjoy it very much. This time though, it was like one of the most beautiful things I had ever heard.

I was filled with all this emotion, every little sound was so much more noticeable. Often a lot of the different things going on in a piece of music can blur together somewhat. The reason I like The Cure so much might be because there’s generally a lot more “space” between the sounds so I can more easily get everything from their music. It was like that with this record, every thing about it stood out. It was very emotional as well for some reason, unlike the sounds I was finding it even harder than usual to pay attention to the lyrics but I could feel the tone very strongly. It felt a lot louder as well, all the music I ended up listening to as the evening went on, I spend quite a long time at one point just leaning over the balcony staring into the trees with the music in the background.

That’s another thing, and probably the most pleasant aspect of the entire experience. I was so unbelievably content, for the first time in god knows how long I was able to simply just enjoy things as they are without this creeping self doubt making me second guess everything. I could stare at the trees for an hour, or play some vidya as I did for a while at one point, and I didn’t have this voice in my head that’s usually always there telling me that while I do this all alone other people are out there with people they love and care about having fun. For years and years I’ve been unable to enjoy simple entertainment like videogames and so on, because this voice is there telling me I don’t really enjoy it and it’s simply a substitute for what I would rather be doing which is spending time with other people. For the first time since probably around the time I played through Mass Effect 3 (2013?) I was able to just enjoy playing vidya (I didn’t play anything for long though, as my motor functions were off and I was having trouble concentrating as I said) and watching stupid videos on youtube.

I was able to simply take things as they were, rather than getting sad because they reminded me of how they could be. Now unfortunately this isn’t something that has carried over into today, I am back to normal and when I was reading for a little while earlier that niggling voice in my head telling me that all entertainment (maybe entertainment isn’t the perfect word here, as I read for other reasons than simply entertaining myself, but it’s the best I can think of right now) is a cope was back again. It’s not a literal disembodied voice I’m talking about btw, I’m being figurative. I’m not schizophrenic thankfully. I’m just using it to describe this feeling that seems to always arise whenever I engage in any recreational activity, even writing something for this blog. The only time I don’t have it, is when I’m with my friends and enjoying spending time with them, which of course further validates that doubt.

The only thing that did carry over to today was the slight physical unease, when I woke up I was very dizzy and I stumbled around walking to the kitchen. I made myself a black coffee, which is something I almost never drink, and after that and a cold shower I was mostly back to normal. I’ve also looked in the mirror and my pupils have definitely gone back to normal. I think I’m going to order a pizza tonight, I wanted to late last night but I was not sure I’d be able to go downstairs and collect it and even if I did I was worried the delivery guy, or worse my neighbours, would see my eyes and realise something was up. All I had to eat in the end was a bowl of tinned asparagus soup, and some hard bread, which was still pretty nice but not very filling.

Alternate states: Test 1

Before

Tomorrow, Saturday the 3rd, I’m going to take four Hawaiian baby woodrose seeds (Argyreia nervosa) and I plan to write a “trip report” to document the experience. That is assuming anything of note actually happens of course, there’s reports I’ve read online that these seeds don’t actually have much or any effect on you. Now for every story like that I’ve probably read ten which describe vivid hallucinatory experiences and these seeds absolutely do contain a genuine naturally occurring psychedelic (LSA), but it’s possible there are duds or fakes going around. Now because I bought these online and not at the local garden centre I am a little concerned I got some of these, but hopefully they’ll turn out to be the real deal.

See that’s the amazing thing, these seeds are still legal even here in England, not just to possess for personal use but to openly buy and sell. No different than a bottle of whisky or a jar of ground coffee. You can go to a garden centre or a garden supplies store and they’ll probably sell them. I don’t know why but for some reason they aren’t covered by the almost blanket ban on psychoactive substances that was passed in 2016. Now if I were to try and perform an extraction and separate the LSA from the rest of the seed matter, that LSA would be illegal to own. I’m not sure I’m comfortable messing around with lighter fluid though, so I’ll just take the seeds straight (or probably ground up, and mixed with a milkshake) and push through the stomach pains and nausea that come when you use this method.

Now LSA is an interesting drug, it’s a component that is used in the production of LSD (which I’m sure everyone has heard of before) and in fact Albert Hoffman, the first man to synthesise LSD, was supposedly inspired by an experience with LSA extracted from the fungus called Ergot which also contains it. Now how true is this story? I don’t know, it could be completely made up but someone said it in a youtube video and it’d be cool if it were true. What is true is that he definitely took LSD, he was the first man to do so, and he considered that to be a profound and insightful experience. He was supposedly surprised when a couple of decades later in the 60s it had become widely used as a recreational substance as after taking it he foresaw it becoming a sort of therapy-aid. In the long run I guess he was vindicated at least, as that seems to be the direction that psychedelics seem to be taking generally speaking.

Now the effects are supposedly fairly similar to LSD, although it’s hard to figure out exactly as individual LSD trips even at similar doses can vary quite wildly, but generally the visual/ hallucinogenic element seems to be much less prominent in an LSA trip compared to an LSD trip. This is especially true at lower doses, higher doses of either will lead to some pretty crazy visuals of course but a low to medium dose of LSA will be more thoughtful and introspective than visually impressive. Which is perfectly fine with me, as cool as the funny shapes and colours may be they’re not what I’m really doing this for.

I’m taking a low dose this first time, I have 50 of these seeds in total so the option is there for higher doses in future, as I’m alone and have very little psychedelic experience. I’ll try writing my thoughts down and describing what happens as it’s taking place, but if I’m unable to concentrate or what I write ends up being completely incomprehensible I probably won’t include it. The ideal post though will have a before, during and after section. A lot of “trip reports” I read only seem to be a document of what happened written after the fact, but from what I’ve learned from reading and watching things on the subject your mindset going in to a psychedelic experience is very important. So I want to have that included in the post, and so I’ll do that now.

I’m not feeling very good this evening if I’m being honest, I had a pretty shitty day. Not an especially bad day, nothing bad actually happened to me, but nothing good happened either. Nothing really happened at all, my dad is away at the moment so I’m doing everything at home and so I did all the cleaning and washing before heading to work this morning. None of the interactions with my co-workers went very well either, which again is normal but still gets to me a little every time. Nothing particularly bad happened, I just felt like in every interaction the other person was uncomfortable. The thing is I just don’t understand it, I’ve now had several interactions with all of these people that didn’t go like that. I’ve been chatty and friendly and didn’t get any of those kind of vibes from each one of them on multiple occasions each so I don’t understand why I still do on other days.

It always feels particularly shitty when every single interaction in a given day goes this way though, like it did today. I suppose the first interaction with the deputy manager right at the start of the day was fine, I’ve never mentioned this particular co-worker before but she started a few months after I did and is always really friendly. She’s probably the nicest person there actually, and she definitely has a strong “sweet/ naïve young girl” aura about her but who knows how accurate that actually is. Later though we had to speak back and forth for a while over text about some stuff to do with the shop and while at first she was her usual warm/ amicable self her last message seemed uncharacteristically curt. At the time and until writing about it I felt like it might be because I was being “too friendly” and she was creeped out or trying to subtly tell me not to get any ideas (which I’m not for the record, not that she isn’t pretty and a pleasant person to be around but I think I’m immunised against oneitis at this point and she has a boyfriend).

Thinking about it now though it was probably not intentional at all, I don’t think I even cross this person’s mind at all when we’re not together at work (the same goes for all of my co-workers I’m sure) and that she’d even think that would be necessary. The response was too quick as well for any kind of deliberate subtext like that to have been considered now I think about it. I’m just incredibly insecure, so I obsess over these stupid things. That is something I’m hoping psychedelics can help with actually. Although frankly just writing these last couple paragraphs has made me feel a lot better, that and listening to Deathconsciousness with the volume really high as it got dark earlier this evening. The insecurity spike I’ve been experiencing since early this afternoon seems to have finally steadied.

I know it may seem like such a small concern, but most interactions I’ve had (and I really mean most, the overwhelming majority) in the last decade have been awkward or uncomfortable like today’s ones and it really does wear you down after a while. See after long enough every time it happens again you’re reminded of all the other times and how long it’s been this way. It feels more and more like it’ll never be any other way. I’m not sure what to expect tomorrow, I don’t think that psychedelics are going to be this mental panacea that a lot of people make them out to be if I’m being honest. I’m pretty sceptical about the whole thing, but I’ve got to try because I don’t really have any other options left. I’m going to make some chamomile tea, and read for a little while before going to bed. Hopefully tomorrow will be beneficial in some way.

After

Well I hate to say it but my concerns were well founded it seems, as I have experienced no effects whatsoever. Now I considered simply deleting this post, but I have instead decided to keep it anyway. There are going to be some set backs along the way, and it’ll be good to have a record of them. It’s also been a good week almost since my last upload and while I have been writing up another post over the last week it’s a long one (3000 words already and I’m not close to finishing) and will take a while to finish. I’ve noticed as well that there have actually been quite a few visitors over the last few days so clearly you want some kind of update and so I can finish this up tonight and give you that.

Now luckily I have a back up plan already in place, there is another kind of seed which contains the same substance as the HWBR seeds, Morning Glory seeds, and I did also buy a packet of those some months back. They seem actually to be more reliable, I can’t find any stories of these ones having no effect like I can with HWBR. The only reason I chose the HWBR was because you only have to take a few whereas the LSA content in Morning Glory seeds is far lower. I will have to take about 100 to 150, I’m erring towards taking the larger amount after today’s experience but I’ll decide tomorrow afternoon when I take them. This means that, assuming they aren’t also duds or something, the nausea will probably be pretty bad.

I’m not really sure what to do with myself now, it’s not like I usually have plans but I deliberately kept the day as free as possible today for obvious reasons and it’s been pretty boring. I tried reading, I tried writing some more on that other post I’m working on, but I just couldn’t stay focused as I was still nervous because of the anticipation at first and after that pissed off that I was sold dud seeds. I got a lot of cleaning done at least, the flat hasn’t looked this nice in years, but now I’ve got a whole evening with nothing to do at all. I’m considering going for a /nightwalk/, the last one I went on was a pretty miserable experience but that was almost a year ago and I used to do it all the time. Seeing all the happy normalfags out enjoying their Saturday night might make me feel even worse than I do now though, so maybe it’s best to stay home.

Books: Part 6

Ok, when I wrote the first “Books” post I was planning it to be an interesting one off entry. I realised that I’d need to split it up when I was getting to the end of explaining what I was going to do and it had already taken up over 2,000 words. Now 2,000 words is nothing if you’re talking about an introduction to a book, but for a blog post I think it’s quite a good point to stop. I generally stay within the 2,000 to 5,000 word range as a rule, I think that’s the sweet spot because it’s long enough that you have to take a good five to ten minutes out of your day and give it some time, you can’t just breeze through one of my posts in 30 seconds and forget about it, but it’s not so long as to actually change anyone’s plans either. You can read one of my posts in one go, and hopefully it gives you something to think about but ultimately you can then simply move on with your day. Although I think my posts are better enjoyed in the evening, with no further plans ahead.

I then realised after the second post in the series, which was the first one where I really actually started talking about the books I own, that this would take a lot longer than I originally expected. That is, if I wanted to actually say more than a few words about each of them. The problem is I’ve now reached the sixth part, and have not even covered half of the books I own yet. So I’ve decided this part will be a “lightning round” where I cover a lot of the books that I don’t have a lot to say about and hopefully that pile that needs sorting will be a lot smaller by the time I’m done. I’ll say now that you shouldn’t expect anything insightful or interesting from this particular post, I’m just kind of trying to get through these books now because I kind of backed myself into a corner with this whole idea. I do think that I’ll have one or two posts in this series after this, maybe even three, which will be more engaging though. Here’s hoping.

The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham

This is a short novel, set in an alternative post-apocalyptic London during the early 20th century. The premise if I remember correctly, is that some kind of alien energy field hits the earth one evening and everyone who sees it is blinded. Which is most people on the planet. Then after that these moving hostile plants which for some reason are named Triffids spawn into being and begin hunting people, and I think consuming them as well. The protagonist of the novel keeps his eyesight thanks to some kind of plot convenience that I don’t remember, and the novel follows his journey through the city and eventually to a farmstead in the countryside.

My uncle gave me this copy, years ago now. I enjoyed reading it at the time, but that’s it. I don’t think there’s anything to be gained from going back to it. Even if it’s just a case of going back to a familiar story and familiar characters, there are other books like The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings which are far better if you’re looking simply to escape into a good story. There’s no reason for me to hold onto this, so I won’t. I wouldn’t say it’s not worth a read, but it’s not worth having a physical copy of it in this day and age.

 The Big Big Big Book of Tashi by Anna and Barbara Fienberg and Kim Gamble

This is collection of 14 short stories for children, small children. The author and the series, the characters and so on, are Australian in fact not british. See my uncle lived in Australia for a years, I think possibly for as long as a decade maybe even more than that. He didn’t move back to England until I was a few years old, maybe four or five I’d guess. I don’t recall exactly, being four or five years old I don’t remember much from that period of time. I imagine he must have brought this with him when he came back, as a gift. I know he bought it for me, and I know I’ve had this book for as long as I can remember.

The books are about this boy whose name I forget, and his friend Tashi who has these many fantastical stories to tell about his life before emigrating to presumably Australia but basically a generic western neighbourhood that could be anywhere. So the actual stories are mostly set in this fantasy land with monsters and magic and so on, but framed within a more normal/ familiar setting. Anyway as much as I did enjoy this book as a little kid I just don’t see any good reason to hold on to it. It’s going to have to go.

Europe: A History by Norman Davies

This is one of the longest books I’ve ever read, maybe the longest. It’s pretty clear what it’s about, a book that supposedly covers all of European history from pre-history through to the fall of the soviet union. One of the positives about this book is that it does make the effort to include a lot of eastern European history that might be overlooked like the history of medieval Poland and Lithuania, Kievan Rus and the Eastern Roman Empire/ Byzantium. It moves chronologically of course, but because of the scope this means a lot of moving back and forth to switch to a new region especially during the early middle ages when things were the least connected.

The problem is that the book is just incredibly dull, I actually didn’t finish it if I’m being honest but gave up towards the end while reading an absurdly long chapter on Napoleon. It’s quite clear where the author’s interest lies, it was about twice as long as the chapter that covered almost an entire millennium of roman history. Perhaps author is the wrong word here, the first thing he says in the introduction is that there’s no original work or research that was necessary for this book. Not that it was just a compilation of other historical works, it was a retelling in his own words, but everything in here could be found somewhere else. The list of citations/ sources at the back is huge, they alone make up the length of a short novella.

I’m not sure whether to keep hold of it or throw it away, because I don’t like to leave a book unfinished, but it’s been years since I gave up on it and I remember almost nothing outside of the major events of the period I was up to. That is outside of the particular periods of time which I’ve read other things about. Speaking of which the book just didn’t go into nearly enough detail in the areas that I personally find interesting, pre-history and into the bronze age, classical Greco-Roman history and dark ages Britain. I think I’ll hold onto it for now, and if I haven’t picked it back up within a year I’ll just give it to the charity shop. After all I did originally buy this there, before my current job I volunteered at a second hand shop for half a year and it was while there that I bought this. I’ll probably take it to a different one though, I don’t ever plan to return to the shop I was helping out ever again.

The Lamb and the Butterfly by Arnold Sundgaard and Eric Carle, The Unicorn and the Sea by Fiona Moodie, and The Fire Children by Eric Maddern and Frané Lessac

I’ve decided to group all of these together because whatever I might say about one applies to all three. These are books for very small children, basically toddlers. They’re picture books so I think that in this case the illustrators are just as crucial as the authors which is why I included both names. Upon opening these books just for a quick flick through I’m hit with this warm feeling of familiarity, these are probably the first books I ever read. In fact they were probably there before I was even capable of not just reading but speaking. I remember I had quite a few more like this, but for whatever reason these ones have remained in my possession while the others have been lost along the way. It’s a shame, there are others I remember more fondly even than these and I do wish I could look through them one last time. I can’t even find them online based on the hazy memories I have though, and anyway even if I had them I would be making the same decision I am going to make regarding the ones I do still have. That is, I will finally be letting go of them.

boom! by Mark Haddon

Now this isn’t the only book by this author I have a copy of, I also have The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time but I think that one might lead to a more interesting entry in this series so I’ll leave it for today. boom! on the other hand is another children’s adventure book, following the theme that will run throughout this entry. It’s not even one I remember particularly fondly or well either. I don’t know why I have held onto it for this long, but it can certainly go now. I do however have a particular memory associated with this novel, which I wouldn’t mind having written down so I won’t forget about it.

It’s actually of the first time I was unable to fall asleep, when I was maybe 9 or 10 years old, I don’t quite know. A better way of putting it would be to say, my first experience of insomnia. Now I have pretty mild insomnia, it’s not debilitating at all and most nights it’s not a problem. A few nights a month though, and often all in one go, I’ll have quite a lot of trouble getting to sleep. There’s been a heatwave here over the last week in fact so it’s been worse than usual actually, but hopefully next week should be cooler. Also my dad is leaving for a few weeks, and I always sleep better when the flat is empty apart from me.

So one summer evening I decided to stay up late, and I was reading this book at the time. At the time I had just got rid of my bed, and had yet to build the new one so I was sleeping on a mattress on the floor (kind of like I do now, although this was in my old room) with the door on my right hand side as I was sat up in bed. I started reading under the covers with my torch, and after a short while I heard my mum go to sleep. I kept reading for quite some time after this, but eventually I realised it must be really late, maybe even midnight! So I decided to go to sleep. Yet I wasn’t able to, I closed my eyes and turned from side to side but nothing would do it.

I remember after some time I started to worry that it would always be like this now, I knew that my mum had always suffered from insomnia as she often had to take naps in the afternoon after getting home from work because she hadn’t slept enough the night before. In a way I kind of saw it as part of the process of growing up, after all she was the main adult figure in my life and she had it. I’m surprised how quickly I just accepted this fate, and luckily I was wrong and it’s not anywhere near as much of a problem for me as it was for her. I must have fallen asleep eventually, but I do remember feeling groggy and miserable the following day. Not an especially interesting story, but it’s one I remember well.

Esio Trot, The Giraffe and the Pelly and Me, George’s Marvellous Medicine, and Danny the Champion of the World by Roald Dahl

I’m sure everyone is well aware of who Roald Dahl is, I loved these books when I was little and I used to have quite a few more of his books but they have also been lost along the way. Just like those picture books I talked about, when I see Quentin Blake’s iconic illustrations I’m taken to a very familiar and comforting place. There is just no good reason for me to hold onto these though, and so they also have to go.

Now We Are Six and The House at Pooh Corner by A. A. Milne

These might be the hardest of the books from my childhood to let go of, I’m still considering holding onto them. The House At Pooh Corner is the second of the two volumes of short stories featuring the character Winnie The Pooh and his friends, I did have both volumes once as well as both of the poetry collections but now I only have one of each clearly. Again, I’m not exactly sure what happened to the other books I had, but they’re gone now. Now the final story in the collection ends with Christopher Robin leaving Pooh and all the other animals of the hundred acre wood to go somewhere. It was never really clear to me where when I was a little boy, but I’ve since learned that the implication was that he was going off to boarding school.

The story ends with a touching moment between Christopher Robin and Pooh on a hill overlooking the wood, in which Christopher Robin knights Pooh and then asks him never to forget him “not even when I’m a hundred”. Even when I was the age of about five or six and I didn’t pick up on the implications about where exactly he was going, I still remember this ending felt rather sad. Christopher Robin probably didn’t have any time for toys when he came back from school, so this was his way of putting childish things aside. Which I suppose is what I need to do also.

Now We Are Six is a collection of poems, many of them about Christopher Robin, Pooh and the rest of the characters. I suppose I got it wrong when I said in the second entry in this series that I had covered all of the poetry books I own. This particular copy is very special to me, it was a gift for my sixth birthday from both my uncle and his partner (a friend of my mother’s who he met upon returning to England) and it even has a little message from them on the inside cover. Again as with quite a few of the books I’m looking through today the illustrations bring out a strong feeling of nostalgia. I know I should let it go, as I plan to do with the other Pooh book and all the little kiddie books I’ve sorted through, but I really don’t want to. It’s difficult because I’ll have to simply throw this one in the rubbish, as my name written on the note at the front means I can’t give it away. I’ll just hold on to it until I can think of what to do, it’s very small and doesn’t take up a lot of space.

Ubik and Time Out of Joint by Philip K. Dick

Another pattern might be noticeable in this entry, in fact across this entire little series of posts. Both of these were gifts from my uncle, in fact because his memory isn’t very good he actually gave me two separate copies of Ubik. One quite a few years ago now, shortly after I read The Time Machine the first time and mentioned that I was looking for more science fiction to read, the second copy was a gift either last Christmas or the year before that. I loved it at the time, in fact I was considering reading it again just as a recap for the post I had planned to do in this series which was all about Philip K. Dick. I’m currently in the middle of reading something that I don’t want to be distracted from though and while I am reading quite a lot these days because the heat makes it impossible to do anything else I think it’ll still be a little while until I finish it.

So instead I’ve decided to just write a short bit about PKD and the books of his (and one about him) I own rather than giving him a whole post. I will keep hold of my copy of Ubik though and probably re-read it some time soon. Maybe I’ll have more to say about it in another post, not part of this series but just a standalone thing like I did for Travels in Nihilon. I’ll keep the newer copy, it’s got a nicer and more appropriate cover, it has better quality paper and binding, the pages aren’t faded and yellowed, etc. Time Out of Joint on the other hand I read more recently, maybe a year ago now or so. I didn’t like it at all, I’m not really sure what the point to any of it was. See Ubik brings up all these ideas about death and how reliable our sense of perception is and I don’t feel like Time Out of Joint really asks or answers anything.

The book is about a simulated environment of sorts, and I’m sure it was one of the earliest explorations of that concept, but it’s been done so much more interestingly since. Kant and his concept of the Thing-in-itself is name dropped as well but I don’t know if it’s actually something the book explores or really says anything about at all. It doesn’t feel like it, the book seems very straightforward unlike the other PKD books I’ve read (Ubik, A Scanner Darkly, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep), then again I don’t know anything about continental philosophy so maybe there is some real substance to be found and it just went right over my head. I’ll keep hold of it as well for now, but I might change my mind at any point and just throw it. I don’t think I want to read it again, I didn’t really enjoy it. It’s certainly the least enjoyable of all the PKD works I’ve read so far.

A Life of Philip K. Dick by Anthony Peake

This is an interesting book, at least the last section was kind of interesting. It’s split into two parts, the first part takes up most of the book (about three quarters) and it’s simply a biography. It’s interesting enough if you’re interested in the man, and he is an interesting man, but this book came to me (as you can guess, as a gift from my uncle) a bit too late. See by the time I got this, I think the Christmas before last, I had lost most of the interest I had in the man who remembered the future. Even the stuff in the second part which talks about his genuinely impressive insights into the future and his many weird interests I had already read a great deal about already online over the years.

I’m not sure whether to hold onto it or not, speaking about him in this post has made me think about perhaps reading one of his novels that I haven’t yet. I’ve been reading a lot of fairly dry history lately, and maybe a sci-fi novel will be a nice change of pace. I always meant to read his last book The Transmigration of Timothy Archer, which supposedly explores a lot of his weirder theological/ esoteric ideas. Maybe it’ll be worth holding onto this book for now.

No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai

This is a book that you’ve probably heard of if you’re part of the /polit9k/ crowd who mostly end up reading these little blog posts I write, as 4chan and specifically those boards are the only places I’ve ever linked this blog to. Naturally most of the visitors I get come from there or through the wordpress reader thingy, but for a few months I didn’t get anyone from the reader. So I bought this book right after starting my job actually, with my first month’s pay I think or maybe the second. I had heard that it was le relatable doomer novel, and frankly that’s quite a mischaracterisation. It’s certainly an interesting read, although I didn’t like the way it was structured at all as it was kind of all over the place, but that’s fine.

The book is semi-autobiographical, it’s a work of fiction with made up characters but heavily inspired by the events of the author’s own life. It’s split into three main sections, which are set during a different period in the life of the main character Oba, each one a decade or more apart from the others. Then around this is a short intro and outro where some other character talks about finding out about this main character and his life through some journals left behind by him. The thing is though that Oba is not a modern “doomer” by any stretch, he’s basically just a sociopath. Not a Patrick Bateman or Howard Roark big shot corporate type sociopath, but similar in that he has seemingly no regard or care for the suffering if others.

The seeming difference is that his inability to sympathise or relate to anyone is something that is a curse rather than a benefit. I’m not sure if it is a difference though, maybe the community focused “collectivist” culture of early 20th century Japan played more of a role than any moral character of his own. Perhaps someone similar would just go on to fit the “sociopath” archetype that we’re more used to if he was raised in a modern western city.  I know this is kind of a cope that a lot of unsuccessful people cling onto, but it is undeniable that being uncaring and willing to step on other people gives you a huge advantage in life. That is, you will find it much easier to achieve your material goals.

In fact that’s something to think about isn’t it? Oba’s feelings of alienation are considered relatable and “oh he’s just like me” by a lot of robots and incels which is why this book gets suggested a lot, but he’s not like them at all. In fact he’s the very opposite, but rather in a culture like his it’s people such as that who are the ones that struggle the most to get by. There’s a lot pseudo-scientific talk online in the circles I’ve been around about “alphas” and “betas” and a lot of people have done a good job of pointing the broscience out for what it is. However I think the terms are used figuratively more so nowadays, an “alpha” is a collection of characteristics and attitudes, it’s a feeling. In the past in these circles you would hear the term “alpha male” but now it’s just “alpha”. “Is X alpha or beta?” is a an example of how the terms are used now.

So what exactly is it that defines “alpha” and “beta” as the terms are used today? Well it’s difficult to say, there’s some quality that can’t be described with other words otherwise we would have kept on using those. I do think that one (1) of the many themes represented is care. Visualise a spectrum, at one end would be someone who cares for others entirely over themselves, and at the other end vice versa. This is one of many measures of “alpha-ness” or the opposite, in that whatever point along the line it is where your care for others exceeds the care for yourself is where you can be classified as “beta” at least in this one regard. I suppose the idea behind having these themes all lumped together under the terms “alpha” and “beta” is that if you’re “beta” in one area of life you’re probably “beta” in most others also. So the value is in showing the connection between these traits.

Now I could get even more sidetracked than I have been in talking about why some people are more one way or another when it comes to this. I’ll leave it for you to think about on your own though, you can probably figure out my general thoughts on why from what I’ve said in other posts. My point here is that Japan appears to be a “beta” culture, you could say. In that emphasis is placed on putting the needs of the community before those of your own, rather than the “alpha” culture of the occident. So Dazai’s feelings of alienation might be relatable but he isn’t. I’m not the only one who feels like this, I’ve seen quite a few threads about this book on both /r9k/ and /lit/ in my time and a lot of people express a similar feeling.

That’s fine though, in fact thinking about it perhaps it’s more valuable for robots to read this book than to read a novel which features a primary character who is more like themselves. That would in a way be a kind of self pandering, this on the other hand allows us to see that perhaps in a different time and a different place it is someone quite different who is “disqualified from being human” as the more literal translation of the title goes. So I would actually say that this book does a better job of describing and capturing this aspect of the human condition than both works that as I said may feature more relatable protagonists in a similar situation, but also the same book back in it’s own context when it was originally published. I’ll hold onto this one.

Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie and Peter Pan in Scarlet by Geraldine McCaughrean

I was doing so well, keeping it concise, but I couldn’t help myself. I’ll end this post with one last quick one. Peter Pan is a story we all know well I’m sure, the tale of the boy who wouldn’t grow up. This was one of those books I read over and over, the “official sequel” Peter Pan in Scarlet I didn’t enjoy as much and I remember almost nothing about, but I still have it here for some reason and so it must be mentioned. I think the irony in holding onto a children’s book which is about the necessity of growing up (in part) is clear to everyone, so of course I will be giving both of these books away.

Link to Part 5

Link to Part 7

Addenda – First year

I’ve been doing this blog thing for almost a year now, and I’ve written some things that I think require further explanation. I’ve also changed my opinions on some of what I’ve written about, and just outright said things I wish I hadn’t. So I’m going to try and go over as much of that as I can. I don’t know if this’ll be comprehensive, there might be things I forget to cover just like how there are things I forgot to include in other posts (which btw I will also try to put in this one if I remember), but I’ll try my best. I’m not going to go in chronological order, or any other order either, I’ll just be talking about things as I’m reminded of them. If I’m still writing in a year, I’ll probably have a whole load more things like this bugging me so there may some day be a part 2 to this as well.

Ok so first I want to talk about this particular post which I wrote in February, it was kind of about this book Travels In Nihilon, but I got pretty distracted so it’s about a whole lot more than the actual content of the book itself. In particular there are two things about it that bug me, and I want to talk about here. Firstly I just said a lot about things that I know very little about, and that’s fine but I feel like maybe the way I wrote that post was in an authoritative tone which is undeserved. Not the stuff about nihilism, I think I made it clear that I know I’m uneducated on the subject and I was giving an outsider’s perspective on it. I’m more talking about what I said about Plato and his ideas. I’m not a philosophy student, I’ve read a couple of philosophical works including a translated copy of one of Plato’s dialogues but that’s it. I just feel like I didn’t make it clear enough that I understand that I don’t really know what I’m talking about when it comes to this stuff.

Which is important, I am fully aware that to anyone who actually knows about this stuff I look like a moron. I know this maybe seems like a small thing to worry about, but I worry about small things what can I say. I’m also planning on starting to read more philosophy in the near future, and I expect I’ll maybe realise how much I’ve misunderstood some major philosophical concepts. Which kind of leads me into the second thing, something that I’ve talked about in loads of posts but I know that I definitely did in this one. Which is the distinction I’ve noticed between more official definitions of words and the way they’re actually used by “normal people”. In fact it came up in the last post I wrote, only a week or so ago.

I don’t actually think I’ve changed my mind about any of what I’ve already said on this subject, though I do have some more to say, the only problem is that I naïvely implied that this was some unique insight or perspective of mine. To give myself some credit, in that very post I did say that I think this idea is probably not something only I notice, but even that is stupidly short sighted. Of course people must have noticed this, it’s not in any way a profound or undocumented thing. I think it’s just a cope, and any long term readers of this blog will be aware of my crusade against “copes”. I think that it’s so easy to become convinced that any kind of slightly interesting thing we think of is “new”, but realistically there’s thousands of years of scientific/ philosophical/ anthropological and linguistic literature.

I don’t believe that we’ve reached a point where there’s no new ideas, of course not, but we’ve reached a point where the random epiphanies of the man of the street have all been documented, chronicled and expanded upon enough. The new knowledge will come from response and research, it will build upon the work of others or on complex observations, there will be no more philosophers in one sense of how that term is used. This archetypal image we have of a figure who is completely out of the loop and yet has these world changing ideas, is a thing of the long gone past. There isn’t going to be another Heraclitus or Thales of Miletus, you or I are not going to be someone like that.

Just look at the increasingly complicated language of philosophical writings over the centuries, a lot of people use the term obscurantism to describe it and say that philosophy today is all just word salad jacking off with no real purpose. I was even convinced of this for a while, but now I just realise that there’s so much that has been said that needs to be reconciled and I kind of understand. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to grasp any of it, or if I’m too much of a low IQ brainlet, but I’ll give it a go. This isn’t some kind of defence of ivory tower academia either, I never went to university. In fact I didn’t even really have a formal education after the age of 15, I stayed in education after that for a couple years but I wasn’t really there. I dropped out before I actually dropped out. I’m just saying how it seems to me that the pursuit of knowledge has evolved.

Now speaking of this language problem, I think in talking and thinking about it in the past I didn’t realise quite the extent of the situation. See in my mind there was simply this distinction between the official or “true” definition of a word and then it’s devolved or degenerated usage as I viewed this change at the time. Thinking about it more though, it goes so much further than that. In a way almost everyone has a slightly different definition for most words, for a number of reasons. I mean take the context in which we learn a new word, we learn it in relation to other words. Words come in sentences after all, not as standalone items. This, you could say, colours how we view this particular word and it’s meaning. You’ll always have this personal baggage attached to certain words that no one else will.

I said in that same post that it seems to me there are two kinds of word, those that describe purely material things, like table, tree, foot, etc. and those that describe less tangible things like fear, essence, even a word like home. Now I know that it’s like a pseud calling card to dichotomise things like that (in my view there’s two kinds of X) but there is a distinction here. When two people meet, like when the European settlers first went to sub-Saharan Africa or the Americas, they point to these objective things as the starting point for trying to understand one another. In fact there’s even an African country (I think Senegal) today which means “boat” in the native tongue, because that was the first word learned by the visitors. You have to learn a new language with these sorts of words, and then when you can communicate that way and you have a foundation you can learn more abstract or conceptual terms from there using these words as the context.

Again I’m not a linguist, nor have I even been able to even learn another language, but I don’t see how it could be any other way. You have to have a basis, how can a word like “fear”, for example, be explained without some reference to those things which make one feel fearful. Yes those things also might be abstract, the distinction isn’t perfect it’s more like the colours on a rainbow, and I’ve used this metaphor before talking about something else and probably will again as it’s very applicable. There is clearly a distinction between any two colours on the spectrum that lie next to one another, but at the meeting point you don’t find a hard line you find a blurry inbetween stage.

One of the words I chose for my example, “table”, is a good example of this. It’s a man-made object, it’s not something that just exists to be described with a sound. Even though it does seem there is a universal understanding of table-ness, tied up in the word is this mental image of the building of a table and the idea of the purpose of this thing that we made. An apple doesn’t require a defence, it doesn’t need to have a purpose it simply is. We built a table though, and that must be justified. Still I would consider it in the first category because you could simply look at a table, make a sound and we could all agree that that sound means “table”. It doesn’t need anything else, so the closest I can get to a hard distinction is to say there are words that require other words and there are those that do not.

Anyway I mention this distinction (which I admit is imperfect) because words that are solidly inside the “simple object” box are impossible to have this change in definition happen to them that I’ve talked about before, and translation is something I’ve been thinking about lately. An apple will always be an apple, and not only that but that makes it far easier to translate as well. There is a perfect substitute word for apple in every language except for one spoken by people who have never seen an apple before. It’s this second category that is vulnerable to this misuse, but there lies the problem in my thinking up until this point. See why assume that the older definition is the right one? Let’s say that a word’s original academic usage is completely forgotten, and the newer colloquial usage becomes universal rather than just widespread. Dictionaries describe it in this new way, and so on. Is everyone using the word wrong? What about if one person finds an old dictionary which does have this older definition, now that there does exist one example still of the older meaning of the word, now is everyone wrong? I don’t know.

Most words we have today are derived from other words, or have older definitions that are lost. Many words derive from other words in entirely different and older languages. So it seems that as long as an older definition exists somewhere, there will be people who hold it in higher regard. I’ve been doing this, but why? It clearly doesn’t stand the test of time, the public at large is modifying it for a reason surely. These same people like me will say that the language is being dumbed down, but maybe that’s just a cope. Maybe the word is made more effective, more useful, through this evolution. I imagine that this process has probably sped up considerably in tandem with the increase in literacy/ education among the general population that has happened over the last 150 years or so.

I suppose it doesn’t matter though, because like I said to a much lesser degree the meaning held by any two people using this word is also going to be different. Words carry certain connotations for some people that they don’t for others, because of the context in which we learn them and hear them used later. Sure you’ll get these people to agree on a standard definition, or at least the definition they hold in their minds is incredibly similar, but it’s not a perfect match. It never can be, we will always be talking past one another to some degree. The more abstract a conversation is, the more this will be the case. It seems like all words are in a state of flux, there are these larger definitional changes that take place on a societal level but this happens because of the constant but very minor changes that happen every time someone new learns a word. Perhaps this broader change is in fact just the result of this smaller process, after enough time has passed.

There’s a lot of other stuff to get to though, so let’s move on now. I think the next thing I want to quickly go back to is a post from the very early days. From the very first month of writing actually, a period which when compared to the later stuff just bugs me. See that first month has more posts than any other, but I didn’t even start the blog until half way through the month almost. I was writing constantly, I was trying to distract myself by writing about what I was trying to distract myself from. Which seems counter-intuitive when I say it like that, but it made a sort of sense at the time. I kind of regret that entire period, but at the same time it’s was very honest and it’s what kicked this entire blog off so I’m also glad for it.

The post I linked is the second to last post from that month, and the entire idea behind that post was that I would “ride a train of thought” as the title says and so I didn’t really talk about anything in particular detail but rather breezed through various things I was thinking about at the time. I started it though by talking about one of the things I had been talking about all month, which was this possibly accidental message from someone I hardly knew and expected never to hear from ever again. There has actually been some update to that situation, which was that it was made clear that it was definitely still her using the same number, but I didn’t mention it in another post because frankly I’m very embarrassed that I ever cared so much about this. I really am kind of mortified every time I have to go back and read one of the posts from this month that were about this (other than the first, which on it’s own I’m quite happy with), I don’t like that it’s recorded and potentially someone I know could find it and see how pathetic I was being.

That’s why I haven’t talked about anything to do with any of that stuff since, other than to express a kind of regret. Again though only a kind, because I understand that if I hadn’t have written those posts I wouldn’t have then gone on to do what I’ve done since with this blog. Which is nothing special, but I’m happy with it. I’ve been thinking a lot about what the point is to any of this, what is the value to me writing any of what I’ve written rather than keeping it to myself, and I think right now my position is that it is a good insight into the life and mind of someone like me. After all there are quite a lot of people out there like me, and sure I’m an individual and I talk about my individual experiences and thoughts but I definitely fit a type.

Since I’ve started spending more time on /lit/ and less time on /r9k/ I’ve come across the posts of this minor board celebrity generally known on there as London Frog. The name is given because every thread he makes uses a picture of le sad facebook frog (like the one in my profile for this blog) and because he lives in London and often talks about his aimless walks through the city. He’s supposedly been posting since 2015 or possibly earlier than that even, and every post follows a very similar format. Some speculate that he is performing an elaborate multi year long troll job, but I think he’s actually presenting an accurate depiction of his day to day life. He has a sense of humour sure, the long running gag that every binge he engages is in will be his last being the best example of this. I was actually thinking about writing a whole post about him, and I may still at some point, but recently someone decided to start compiling all his posts.

Here’s the link to the first two volumes, the guy doing this says he has enough to make two more and maybe he’ll go back through the archive for the older posts as well, so I will either come back to this post and edit in the links to those when they’re available or I’ll include the links to everything when I write my full post about the least famous frog in London. Here’s volume 1, and volume 2, they’re definitely worth a read even if reading them all together like this isn’t quite the same experience as encountering his newest post as it comes out. I’m not sure if he is happy about this collection, I’ve not seen a single new post from him since the first volume was posted a couple of weeks ago. Hopefully he’s still around, and will post more, he’s an interesting character.

Anyway my point is that whatever the value there is in reading London Frog’s collected posts, or My Twisted World for that matter, that exists here as well. I expect that my writings will only ever be seen by a small group of people, but hopefully some of them will gain an insight into what life was like for a certain subset of people in the early 21st century. I think in particular from my posts, the one common theme that you get that you don’t get in the other mentioned projects or writings is the constant confusion or uncertainty. At least it’s not as prominent a theme, there are other more prominent themes in those other works in turn that aren’t so well presented here.

I’d say that feelings of anger and resentment are what you get from MTW, not just because of his actions but you get that feeling throughout the work itself. The killings are part of the work though, as I’ve talked about before. MTW is one single document, and in part it exists to justify this act of rage. LondonFrog makes short posts n an anonymous imageboard, and he deliberately seems to not just repeat himself in action but he literally reuses stock phrases over and over and has done for years. It’s a perfect way of expressing the feeling we all have that life is going nowhere. See I talk about my feeling of resentment sometimes, and I talk about my fears about how I’m wasting my life frequently, but those things are much better presented by these other works.

When I try to read my posts as they would appear to someone else, I think what stands out most is doubt. There’s the self doubt of course, and there’s the constant second guessing and suspicion about what other people are doing or “what they really meant” and so on, I often talk about how I’m not sure my own feelings are reliable. In reading back through my own writing I’ve noticed this is present throughout, whatever the subject I talk about I find it impossible to say anything with conviction. I had to make this very post because in one case my qualifying statements about my lack of trust in my own point of view were still not enough for me to feel comfortable.

So that post, “Riding a train of thought”, is notable because it’s the last time I spoke about that situation. However, I said in that post that I didn’t regret sending the second message I sent. The one where I asked why she messaged me in the first place. I feel quite differently about that now, I do regret it. I never should have sent that, it actually led to a pretty awkward situation and even if it hadn’t it was just such a stupid thing to do. I should have moved on and stopped thinking about it as soon as my first reply got no response. I just don’t understand why I cared so much, of course it’s easy to look back in hindsight and be more detached, but I’m just disappointed in myself for being so weak.

Ok, now I want to talk about this post from a few months ago. In this case I actually do have some new information/ experience that has changed my perspective, but even before that I had regrets about my wording. I’m talking specifically about calling my co-worker a thot, I just feel mean about it and also I was wrong. Now that word is used quite differently by different people, as are all of them I know I was just talking about this, but the personal definitions seem to diverge particularly for this and other “internet-era” slang terms. So I gave a description of what I mean when I use it in that post, if you need to know.

Now recently there’s been some changes at work, and now a few days a week because it’s getting busier two of us have to work the same shift. Which means that instead of spending a few minutes with my co-workers at a time I now sometimes have to spend several hours with them. I mean I’ve only been given this shift twice, and once was not planned, but I will probably have to do it again. Is it because I make everyone else uncomfortable that I’m put there less than everyone else, and they don’t want to work with me? I don’t know, but I’ve certainly considered that. Anyway one of the two shifts I had was with this girl, and naturally we were chatting to pass the time, and I just remember thinking that I was probably unfairly harsh in my judgement of her.

I don’t remember the specific moment, or even what we were talking about, but I just remember that at some point I was reminded of that post and I felt kind of bad about it. See there was something I was going to say in that post but I forgot to include it. Which was that I probably would come across very similarly to how she came across to me, if I could see my interactions with my co-workers from a third person perspective. Of course the smalltalk I have with them is boring, it’s fucking smalltalk. I can’t realistically expect to get a good impression of how interesting or thoughtful someone is from the kind of very brief interactions I was having with all of them until this change. So I’m saying that now, I should have said it then. Unfortunately this happens a lot because of the way I write these posts. I don’t really draft or plan them out it’s more of a thought dump, in fact it was an anon who first described them that way. I have bullet points in my head that I want to cover, but often as in this case I forget some of them.

Ok moving on again I will now be talking about a very recent post, Blackpill nights. Before I say anything about it I’ll just say that I did edit this the other day. I didn’t change or remove anything already there, I wouldn’t ever do that, I just added an image halfway through and an explanatory line about it. Now the problem I have with this post is that it kind of comes across like I’m trying to brag or boast. I’m not, but I am looking for affirmation as I even said in the post itself. See the point of that post was, well what I was just talking about, an expression of this doubt that is everywhere in my life. Because if on the one hand I have all these examples of women/ girls who were definitely interested in me, but yet I reached the age of 21 (soon to be 22) without ever even having kissed a girl, then clearly something doesn’t add up.

So I have all these anecdotes, these memories, but I start to second guess myself. Maybe I’m remembering completely wrongly, maybe these memories I think I have are false. My thinking was that by writing them down, and alongside a more current memory that I know for certain isn’t misremembered, I can stop this growing doubt. Because I’m willing to admit it, I do get an esteem boost from reminding myself of these things that happened. Because they did happen and I don’t want to lose them to this false doubt, and I know it’s a false doubt because I had this more recent memory. By having it recorded, and knowing that other people will see it, it feels more real and less like it’s all in my head. The funny thing is I actually decided not to include quite a few more anecdotes because I was starting to feel like I was being excessive or I was bragging. I’m aware that most people in my situation don’t have similar experiences, I even had someone tell me that they lost interest in reading my posts after that one. Which I understand, as unfortunate as that is.

In fact last sunday at work I was possibly “hit on”, or whatever you want to call it, again. This woman, who seemed quite a bit older than me got off the bus and came into the shop. She was wearing all this gym gear (she was a “personal trainer” I found out later) and she was asking me loads of questions and kept smirking and muttering things to herself. Now customers ask questions and try to chat often so I didn’t think anything of it, but then she asked when I close the shop. I answered normally, and she followed up with “so then you can go home?” and I said that after that I have to clean and stock up so not quite, at which point her demeanour changed slightly and she seemed colder. Now I can’t say for sure whether she was implying she wanted to “hang out” after I finished, but she did seem to have a similar demeanour and body language that I’ve noticed in cases where women were more overt about their interest.

The original title I had in mind for that post was “Blackpill’s a lie” (like the Ariel Pink song, Revolution’s a lie) and I think I should have stuck with it because that much better reflects what should be the real main take away from that entry. Yes I wanted a reason to share those memories as I said, but I wanted the stuff I ended the post on where I talked about my doubts about “blackpill ideology” to be the real point. After all that’s why I ended it on that, so it would be the last thing on your mind. Maybe you disagree, but I think that a slight change in the title while keeping the rest of the post exactly the same would have made quite the difference. I might not have even felt the need to bring it up again in this post.

I don’t think there’s anything else for me to say, I can’t think of anything right now anyway and this post is nearly 5000 words long already. I’m sure that as soon as I upload it I’ll realise there was something else I wanted to cover, that’d be just my luck, but it can’t be that important. Everything that has been really bugging me is dealt with now, I think. Oh, that’s right. I was messing around with the settings the other day and I found out that I could remove the e-mail address requirement for posting a comment. So now people can just comment anonymously without having to put their e-mail address in, not sure why that requirement was set in the first place but it’s gone now. Hopefully I might start to get some comments now, or not. Thanks for reading to the end anyway.

 

 

 

Maslow’s hierarchy of memes

It’s been over a week since I actually sat down to write anything, which is a shame because I was hoping this month would be more productive. Last month I only wrote two posts and both were on the shorter side, a couple thousand words each I think. But on Sunday evening as I got home from work I decided to have a quick shower, just with cold water to wash off the sweat, and as soon as I stepped out I noticed this vibrating/ whirring in my right ear. The noise was like the low hum of industrial machinery and the slight shaking you can feel when you rest your hand on such things was similar to the sensation just inside my ear. I was tired anyway after a nine hour work shift and so I just decided to play some vidya to take my mind off of it, and hoped that when I woke up the next day it would be gone.

Unfortunately, as soon as I woke I was met with the same noise and feeling still ongoing. In fact, I realised as I was boiling the kettle that my hearing was also somewhat muffled in that ear. I remembered that I had experienced something similar before a few years ago, and that it had lasted a few hours until I took a hot shower and rinsed my ears thoroughly, and so I did exactly that. Upon stepping out of the shower though, instead of the relief I was hoping for there was now a sort of high pitched electronic sound. White noise, like you might hear after a bump on the head, yet it didn’t stop after a few seconds but continued. At this point I kind of lost my composure, I was terrified that I had somehow developed permanent tinnitus. I frantically searched online for what it was I might be suffering from, and how best to relieve the symptoms.

After a while I realised there was little I could do from home, the few suggestions like trying to blow the air out through your ears by holding your nose and mouth closed or tapping the back of the head to stop the noise were all useless. The noise wasn’t the only thing as well, in my case as I said I seemed to be going deaf in that ear and it felt congested or blocked partially. I became convinced that it was ear wax build up, this was certainly a cope looking back because that seemed to be the most treatable possibility and believing it helped me to calm down somewhat.

I had to go to work again, I was on the evening shift so I was there until nearly 11 o’clock at night. I asked my dad to buy a solution containing hydrogen peroxide from the chemist which supposedly would dissolve the excess wax and restore things to normal. Thankfully with the knowledge that I could try this stuff when I got home, and the soothing ambient noise from vehicles and people outside, the shift at work wasn’t too much trouble to get through. Really the only time this experience was significantly bothersome for me was when there was silence, but unfortunately as I’m quite the shut in I probably spend a fair amount more time in silence than most people. The days off where I was at home the entire day were quite unpleasant.

I got home later that evening and poured the suggested amount of this solution into my ear, but it actually made things worse. My ears felt completely plugged up, and I could hardly hear anything. I rinsed the stuff out with hot water right away which helped a little and took a sleeping pill to help myself actually get to sleep with the white noise and rushing windlike sounds in my ear. The next day I wasn’t working, so I decided I would go to the see the doctor. I had another hot shower hoping maybe it would unplug the wax better but again it just worsened things. I had stood under the shower head with the affected ear tilted upwards and let the water flow through hoping it might clear things out, but instead it was like the night before just after using that solution. I had almost no hearing in my ear, I tried blowing air out like I had before, and tapping my head, and even pulling on my ear to try and get all the water/ excess wax to loosen. Nothing was helping, and so I got dressed and walked right to the doctor’s office without even waiting for my hair to dry.

My hearing was still gone practically in the one ear when I arrived, and so with that and my usual quiet/ shy demeanour there was some difficulty arranging an appointment. The thing is I haven’t been to see a doctor since I was about 14 or 15, so I wasn’t sure if I was still even registered at this facility. The first receptionist I spoke to asked for my date of birth and name, and said I wasn’t on the system, but that there was another place downstairs as this building was shared by two separate practices. So I went downstairs and there was another waiting room, and another reception desk, this room unlike the main one in the entrance was empty save for the two women behind the desk.

I went to speak to the one nearest, an east african looking woman, and she was very rude. Every time I answered a question of hers she made this strange expression, as if I was doing something weird. I know I can make people uncomfortable but it’s her job to deal with people so surely she’s used to people far more strange and/ or creepy than I am. I know that since I’ve had to work in a customer facing job for two years I’ve become a lot more used to being around “unusual” people. You’d think that working in the reception at a medical facility especially, one of the things you’d be trained for would be to help people feel at ease/ more comfortable, rather than to have the opposite effect. She was a nasty woman, and she seemed more interested in getting back to her chat with the other hag behind the desk than helping me.

Anyway, after going through the same process as I had upstairs and finding out I wasn’t on their system either I found out that this new second practice had only been here for half a year and so couldn’t possibly be the one I had been signed up with. As I said I haven’t been to see a doctor in over half a decade (and even then, it was not because I was ill but rather I was forced to go there by my dad in an attempt to humiliate me, luckily I was vindicated by the GP that day) and all I remembered was that it was this building which I had been to last time. I then went back upstairs and luckily there was a different woman behind the main desk this time.

Now she was much nicer than the other two I had spoken with, the first one was rushed and a little inconsiderate but it was busy up there in the main waiting room so I understand. Of course I’ve already given my opinion on the second woman. This third one was immediately able to put me at ease, I must have been visibly concerned at this point because in a very motherly way she asked me to relax and to tell her what the problem was. I explained that I was struggling to hear, which was why I had to tilt my left ear in the direction of whoever was speaking to fully hear them, and I told her about the constant noises. I then explained that I had been told I wasn’t on the system, and she said she would check again. As it turned out, I was in fact on the system, so who knows why I didn’t show up the first time. Maybe the first receptionist had misheard me when asking for my details. Unfortunately I couldn’t get an appointment that day, and had to wait until early Friday morning to actually see a doctor.

Now walking home from the surgery, I did manage to clear my ear by holding it closed for a few seconds and releasing it so air rushed in. It didn’t stop the tinnitus symptoms, and it didn’t completely fix my hearing, but I was at least back to how I had been before taking the shower that morning. It was now merely a case of waiting until Friday, but there was already a niggling doubt in my mind that the doctor would not be able to help me at all. This slowly grew throughout the week, and because I couldn’t actually concentrate on anything like reading or watching things I just ended up spending my free time getting more and more freaked out about what was happening to me.

I remember that afternoon after I came home from the doctor’s surgery that I sat down in my room leaning against the wall for an hour or longer trying to convince myself that the sounds weren’t real and I could block them out. It’s funny because even though I spent a lot less time than usual wasted on distractions (mindless youtube videos, vidya, etc.) that week, just because it was impossible to maintain my concentration even for those things, my memory of the week is quite blurry. I know I had to work the Wednesday and Thursday, which I’m glad for because having multiple days off in a row in this condition would have been miserable, but that’s all I really remember from those days. I suppose I just didn’t do anything else, I worked and I worried.

Now speaking of not being able to concentrate, that takes me to I suppose the only thing I can perhaps have learned from this experience. We’ve all heard of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs before I’m sure, but the general gist of the idea is that human experience is layered. This is represented with a pyramid usually, and the various tiers in this figurative pyramid are essentially locked off until the conditions of the tier below are met. For example, the bottommost layer is usually said to be access to food and water or whatever else might be considered the most basic human needs.

In fact I’ve seen some people say that sex should be considered as one of the physiological needs that belong in that base layer, which would make for a good explanation for the malaise that is so common amongst self identified incels and robots and similar types of people. It definitely does seem to be the case that a lot of people in that situation who then get a girlfriend tend to notice an increase in motivation and mental wellbeing, the bitter irony being that it is having these qualities in the first place (as if you can just choose to) which is suggested so frequently to us as what we should do to try and fix our situation. I don’t want to get dragged down a tangent today though, I just wanted to make it clear that I’m aware of this.

Anyway, placed on top of the most basic requirements are usually the feeling of safety and security. So that would mean being surrounded by people you can trust, and rely on as well. I suppose being in an environment where you don’t feel in danger is part of this too, as is financial security so knowing that you can afford to maintain your circumstances for the foreseeable future. It goes on and on, with some variation because different people have different ideas about what is reliant upon what and so on, but almost universally the highest tier on the pyramid is this nebulous concept of “self actualisation”.

Now what I’m describing here might not actually have much to do with what Abraham Maslow was suggesting in the paper where he first talked about this idea of his, frankly I wouldn’t know. Rather I’m describing the pop/ folk understanding of this idea, which is really what interests me. It’s like what I was talking about in the earlier days of this blog a lot about how words have colloquial definitions that are changed from perhaps how the words might have been used in the past. I plan to do a follow up post to what I said on that subject fairly soon in fact. Scientific and philosophical and even theological concepts are similar, a few months ago I read this book I was given for Christmas by my uncle on comparative philosophy. The book was kind of “meh”, mostly forgettable but there was one part where the author talked about the difference between the official stances on the idea of karma in various eastern faiths and the kind of loose folk understanding of the normies of that part of the world.

That was very interesting to me. See most people in India or Bangladesh etc. haven’t studied their religious texts, just like how many Christians haven’t actually read the bible, so the idea that someone on the street you might meet there has of karma is what actually influences the culture. Far more people think of it in that way, a kind of pastiche of various ideas from both buddhist and hindu traditions. That is why I think it’s more important to think about the things people actually believe, and actually are trying to say when using certain words. It’s why people who are not native speakers of a language can miss certain nuances or a point entirely, because they didn’t have the experience of learning these words organically in conversation happening around you as you grow up. Or maybe I’m just making excuses for never bothering to learn another language.

I said I was going to keep this post on track though, so back to the main subject. As I said I’m using this idea of the hierarchy of needs in the way it’s used more loosely by society, which if you don’t know already, we live in. Now I’ve always had the idea of it in the back of my mind, it’s something people on r9k talk about occasionally, I remember being taught about it at school, it’s mentioned in some youtube videos I’ve seen over the years, this idea is just present in my life. This week really made it hit home though, I now really understand what it’s like to be lowered a tier on the pyramid, taken off the pyramid entirely in fact. I’ve been ill before of course, ill enough that I had to take time away from school and go to the hospital and so on, years ago, but I had my mind. I could read and watch and play, and concentrate. I also had the knowledge those times that the experience was temporary, and I was at a time in my life where not being “productive” in some sense didn’t make me feel useless and lazy.

This time though, as I said the concern that I would be forced to live this way forever slowly grew and grew in my mind until it was all I could think about. I couldn’t enjoy music, I couldn’t even write anything here as I’ve said. I was really starting to get upset that I wouldn’t be able to write any more posts here. This blog is one of the few things I both enjoy and feel good about, no I don’t think it’s perfect as I’ve said recently I kind of feel like some of the stuff I’ve uploaded was pretty bad, but the “Addenda” post I have planned should help me get over those concerns. I was seriously thinking I might have to stop writing these, which wasn’t a nice thing to think about. This blog has helped me a great deal, and I couldn’t stand to lose it.

I have more of an appreciation for my life, not that this is a drastic change I’m still unhappy about my circumstances and I agree with pretty much everything I’ve been saying in recent posts about how I can’t continue to live like this. All I’m saying is I’d take this over having to live like I did last week for the rest of my life. In fact while I’m reminded of what I’ve been saying more recently, particularly this post where I talked about the possible benefits of psychedelics, I have been wondering something. Assuming that depression (situational depression I mean, not meme depression) is in fact describing someone who is low down on the hierarchy of needs, perhaps psychedelics are in a way rerouting your brain somehow to make you think you’re higher up the pyramid than you actually are. Or, if not that then they somehow allow you to reach the higher levels anyway despite not meeting the requirements of the lower tiers. I don’t know, it’s just something I’ve been thinking about.

Luckily I did get better, I went back for my appointment and the doctor explained my condition, I apparently had what is called Eustachian Tube Dysfunction. She gave me a decongestant spray for my nose, and I took it as soon as I got home. It actually made the noise far worse at first, but I decided to wait it out as she did tell me to try this stuff for a week, and then that night just before bed I tried the ear blowing thing again and the noise stopped. It hasn’t come back, I’m still taking that spray although not as much as I could if I really needed to. I don’t think I need it at all anymore, but I’ll keep trying it until the week is up. I remember that night when I realised the noise was gone that I was happy to just enjoy the sound of silence for a while, you have no idea how sweet it is until it’s gone, but I did listen to one song. Congratulations by MGMT, the closing track from the album of the same name. It’s been one of my favourite songs for a while but in this moment it was particularly good.

I’m hooked on a feelin’, *doo doo doo doo*, and I’m high on believin’

I’ve been thinking lately about how I have used the term “oneitis” in my posts on this blog. See, “oneitis” is a slang term used mostly online to mean infatuation, at least that has always been my impression, and so when I started this blog and I was using chan terms more frequently out of habit I used the word oneitis withut giving it much thought to describe my feelings. It’s also useful because you can use it to refer to both the feeling itself “I am experiencing oneitis” and the object of said feeling “she is my oneitis”. Given that I don’t want to use any real names, you can understand the utility of the term. That’s probably why it became so widely used on 4chan as well come to think of it. I’ve been thinking over the last few days though that maybe the term has some value in it’s own right. That it in fact isn’t just a synonym for, but is in fact an even less meaningful and more shallow experience than, simple infatuation.

My experiences since starting this job are what have led me to this point of view, and most of those I have already spoken about here on this blog, again back in the early days about a year ago. The first post I made, other than the short introductory post, which I link to way too often is the one where I really talked about my experience of it the most but I actually think that what I said in this post is more relevant to what I’m talking about today. In fact other than a few slight, but crucial, differences you could say I’m mostly repeating what I was saying there. There is a good reason for making this post though, even if it is a little repetitive, which is that this new understanding I have shows  a positive development I think.

Now in “Finding my mind” I talked about how I was able to shut off this developing feeling. That by finding out that this new girl who had just started had a boyfriend already I was able to kill any developing feelings in the metaphorical womb. In fact something similar to this had happened before, which was why I only considered one of the two girls I talked about in that first post linked above to be “oneitis”, again as I have spoken about here before. I know this post is kind of a mess but bear with me, I have a point to make. See what this tells me is that the crucial element of this feeling of oneitis is not in fact feeling attracted to or some kind of “chemistry” or connection with a person but rather the idea that they could end up in a relationship with you. It’s a pipe dream, but that’s kind of the point. It needs to be feasible, but just out of reach so you remain in this perpetual state of anticipation.

Ok sure people cheat in relationships, but I do think that I would resist a woman in a relationship who was interested in me, hah! as if I’ll ever be in any such situation anyway. Not only that, but a lot of the people who do my job are foreign and moved here together. So that makes it harder for either of them to simply leave the relationship as they’re truly reliant on one another for paying rent and stuff like that I imagine. Which is actually quite a positive thing when you think about it. Maybe I’m too naïve as well, but I do think that most if not all of the people I’ve had any feelings for (or felt like I did, I’m not forgetting what I’ve been talking about) were good, and good people don’t cheat. Then again my whole point here is that I don’t actually know anything about them really, so perhaps not. The kind of personality I create for them certainly wouldn’t though, which says.. something positive right?

Anyway as I was saying, the crucial element therefore is not the person at all it’s the potential. It’s this idea you can hold onto however illogically that somehow a relationship is waiting for you. You don’t have to do anything, it’s just on it’s way. I think the analogy I used before was like that feeling you get when you’re waiting for something special in the mail. It’s ultimately a reason not to kill yourself, of course I’m being hyperbolic but when you think about it that is exactly what it is in a sense. You need to keep going for now, because there’s still this thing to wait for. It’s a reason to get up in the morning, a reason to go to work, a reason to cook and clean, etc. If it becomes impossible for you to maintain this fiction, then you lose these feelings for the person pretty quickly. At least that is what happened in my experience, because ultimately the person didn’t matter.

In fact in the other case, the girl who I did regard as my oneitis was not someone I even felt particularly attracted to. Neither superficially or because of who she was “deep down” or whatever meme you want to use. I talked in some detail about how I basically constructed an attractive personality and projected it onto her, because we barely spoke. I hardly speak to any of my co-workers as I’ve mentioned here loads of times, I’ve certainly gotten a fair bit more comfortable around them in the last year but I’m still pretty shy and reserved. Which again in it’s own way goes to show that the supposed object of my affection was really not very important.

She had to be there in order for me to have this feeling, but it could have been someone completely different and the same thing would have happened. That other co-worker of mine who I thought I was developing feelings for had only been there a few weeks, we’d barely shared a word. Ironically I actually get along with her fairly well now, and find her easier to talk to than all the other people I work with, and had I continued on to develop feelings for her it probably wouldn’t be that way. Not that she’s not a pretty girl, that’s not what I’m saying, but I’m just able to be sensible about things. She doesn’t know anything about me, and I don’t really know anything about her, it’s not possible for me to actually develop a real attachment without something to attach to. Even now, and back then I knew her much less.

So I think that there is a distinction, what we call infatuation might be considered shallow and fleeting but it is honest. It’s a response to an actual person, you do actually have to know a person somewhat to develop those feelings for them. Oneitis is like a simulation of the feeling we call infatuation, or more specifically the simulation of an infatuation that is not reciprocated. Yes that’s right, I believe that in some unconscious sense I (and I don’t think my experiences with “oneitis” that I’ve talked about are particularly unique) wanted these feelings of longing to continue in perpetuity, for the reasons I stated above. Something to eternally look forward to. The problem being that eventually this has to end, as the particular individual who you are using to give yourself these feelings leaves your life. Which is exactly what I was going through in that very first proper post I made, linked above.

Oneitis I have come to realise is like a drug, it’s a way of coping for lonely people, and it is mostly lonely people who are more prone to experiencing it. As I said it’s something that can be used as a motivating force, like a mild stimulant, and also something to fall back into to cope with loneliness or lack of activity. That’s what I think is important, that’s the purpose of this post distinguishing it from the others linked earlier. See, for a while I was going with the metaphor that it is a disease, something that you catch rather than something you can choose not to engage in. That is the intention after all of the term itself, oneitis immediately brings to mind other “itises” like tonsillitis, dermatitis, hepatitis etc. It’s by design that you consider this experience to be an affliction, and it is always unhealthy in the long run that is true. I don’t think it’s something that happens to you though, I think it’s something you can choose not to experience. That is, if you realise what I think I’m realising now.

When I think about my state of mind during the period when I first started this blog, it was kind of like what I’ve heard about the drug withdrawal process. I wasn’t throwing up or experiencing any real physical symptoms, other than being quite a bit more fatigued than usual, but my thought patterns are what I’m really talking about. I was reliant on this feeling of oneitis to keep me going. I could always comfortably fall back into these silly fantasies in my head about a lovey dovey hand hold-y relationship with this girl, which sure I realistically never expected to happen but I was somehow able to convince myself that I kind of did. Now I’ve had a clear head for a while, and I feel better for it. It’s shameful that I was acting and feeling that way.

In fact I have to frequently fight the desire to delete my older posts, in part because I don’t like the version of myself that is presented there. I wasn’t lucid, I wasn’t myself. There’s other reasons as well, I said some things that I don’t quite agree with now and I phrased and worded things in a way that I regret, basically I think that the earlier posts don’t give as accurate an impression of me as the posts from the last half year. I’ve also just improved my writing I think, and therefore those older posts don’t look so good in comparison. I know I can’t do that though because, as this very post is an example of, I still am talking about similar things and I link back to the older posts often. There’s a progression that I think is nice to look back over as I was talking about in another post recently.

I just feel like if any of the people I’ve spoken about were to see what I wrote about them (not that they will most likely, I’m a tiny anonymous droplet in an ocean of people) they’d think I’m a terrible person and be quite upset about what I’ve said. I don’t want to upset anyone, honestly. They’d probably be shocked that this person they hardly remember or think about gave them so much thought when I barely spoke to them in person. “Gross, he was harbouring all these secret feelings and I had no clue”. Of course, I’m an unusual case, I spend way too much time thinking about everything and I’ve probably written twice as much about Elliot Rodger than anyone I know in real life, but I understand why it wouldn’t feel that way to them.

Since that second linked post, I haven’t had similar feelings for any of my co-workers. Or anyone at all for that matter, but I’m a shut in so there really isn’t anyone else in my life right now for me to. In the last couple of months specifically I’ve been finding it much easier to talk to the people I work with, although yes as I said it’s still difficult and I probably still come off as very stilted in conversation with them, but it’s something. I don’t think that could ever have happened if I had this feeling, that I guess I’ll continue to call oneitis, for one of them. Or, more accurately given what I’ve been saying, for myself.

Books: Part 5

The Time Machine and The Island of Doctor Moreau by H. G. Wells are two of my favourite books. Both are rather short, you could read The Time Machine in an afternoon as I have several times, and The Island Of Doctor Moreau is not much longer. Now I could try to talk about the substance of either of them, because both are rich and worthwhile pieces of writing that plenty of people who are far more qualified and intelligent than me have studied and written about. Both are crucial in the development of what we would call science-fiction and incredibly influential. Themes and imagery and ideas from these (and all of H. G. Wells’ works, but these are the only ones I own copies of) books come up over and over and over again in other books and films to this day. However, those other people are far more qualified and intelligent than me, and I don’t think I have any unusual insights or takes either, so instead I think I’ll just talk about why these two books in particular are special to me.

There was a period of time at school where I had no real friends, during my second and into the third year of secondary school, so around the age of 12/ 13. There was a group of kids I would hang out with, and the two friends I have (maybe, I hardly speak to them but we did all go on a trip together last summer and were thinking about doing the same this year) to this day I met through hanging out with this group, but I didn’t really get along well with any of them at first. It was just preferable to be around them than to do laps of the building for an hour every lunch break. Anyway they liked to hang out in the library, and so being around books all the time I was reading quite often during that period. I was also borrowing books and reading every night at home, as I’ve tried to start doing again recently.

Well, one of the books I remember seeing on the shelf was The Time Machine, and I loved it. I picked it up during the morning break, and then I skipped lunch later that day to read it for the whole hour, and finished it that evening at home. It was just an incredibly /comfy/ reading experience, something about the slightly antiquated Victorian English it was written in (the book was published in the late 1800s) along with the subject matter and the way the story was framed just made it a pleasure to read. The Island of Doctor Moreau was the exact same, and in particular that image of this lonely scientist on his own island thousands of miles from civilisation has stuck with me to this day. Both stories really draw you in to a certain time period, in a way that a book or film from more modern times with a similar setting cannot.

See H. G. Wells was alive at a time when we knew so much less about the nature of matter and reality, most of what we understand about the brain was discovered in the 20th century, the Rutherford atomic model hadn’t been proven accurate, and related to the subject of this book ideas on the nature of time were rather different from the scientific consensus today, etc etc. This period in scientific history is romanticised today not just by me but by a lot of people I think, instead of the sleek shiny white halls that come to mind when you think of a modern research facility, people see men with moustaches tinkering away with rudimentary devices trying to grasp onto some piece of the unknown that surrounded everyone. Reading these books really brings you into that world. In fact I believe that the main reason behind the appeal of the steampunk visual style/ aesthetic to so many people is because of this in part.

There’s a similar feeling a lot of people have regarding the age of exploration and the colonial era, in that there’s something very appealing about conquering and mapping out the great unknown. So a lot of people almost unconsciously gravitate to various superficial things which in their mind represent this time period. People love pith helmets, those long line formation style military coats, ships of the line, and so on. Not because these things are just universally visually appealing to people, even though it might feel like they are, but because of the context within which those things were used. It’s the same for the sciences in the 19th and very early 20th century, even if I’m wrong about this and most of the discoveries we kind of associate with this period were actually from before or after that doesn’t really matter. Similar to how so frequently in media portraying the late roman republic for example the legionaries are wearing lorica segmentata, even though that armour wasn’t developed until much later in history it doesn’t matter because it’s become such a huge symbol of Rome you have to include it.

In fact this kind of feeling, of a world which is still unknown and mysterious is one of the reasons I wanted to read Herodotus’ Histories. I can definitely say that I personally have a certain longing for a time when the world was still strange, and I know that there are at least some people who feel similarly. There’s this sentiment you see, on r9k especially, “born too late to explore the new world, born too early to explore the stars”. The thing is, I am self aware enough to appreciate that someone of my temperament and ability would probably not have been one of the great explorers of the past. I’m not a trailblazer, I’m a shut in.

Changing subject now, the idea of divergent evolutionary paths of humanity leading to the soft and passive Eloi on the one hand and the vulgar brutish Morlocks on the other in The Time Machine is genuinely disturbing to think about. It certainly is a particularly british idea as well I believe, as the class differences are much more stark than in other European/ western countries. I think there are real phenotypic differences between the working class and the rest of the population here, and I think that this divergence started during the industrial revolution. If you look at “anglo” populations in the former colonies like Canada, Australia, The eastern coast of the US, and New Zealand you don’t see this as much, as these places were settled before Britain industrialised for the most part. Of course all these places have since industrialised as well, as has most of the world, but I think the conditions of the industrial revolution in England (as it was the first) were worse for the workers than anywhere else. Other places didn’t have to go through all the experimentation that happened here. I could be completely wrong, but that is how it has always seemed to me.

I don’t think that H. G. Wells really believed that this trend would continue until two separate species of human developed, the Eloi and Morlocks are clearly there as allegory, but the point is well made. There’s a line in The Road to Wigan Pier by George Orwell (another book in the pile) talking about class in Britain or at least England, which puts it quite well.

the essential point about the English class-system is that it is not entirely explicable in terms of money. Roughly speaking it is a money-stratification, but it is also interpenetrated by a sort of shadowy caste-system

It’s so well put, and it’s something that you have to live amongst to really pick up on I think. Class, this shadowy sort that he speaks of, penetrates through to every area of life here. You develop a sort of sense for it, you can tell within seconds roughly where someone new you meet stands in this complex social order after a while. The one thing that seems to be causing a shift is large scale immigration, because these newer people even though a lot of them are from other European countries aren’t as attuned to it. As for those from “further afield”, they’re completely oblivious. They’ve also formed into a kind of underclass, which has it’s own effect on this ill defined structure that is of course hard to specify but clearly present.

This sort of thing is much more pronounced in the cities as well, which again makes sense if you see the industrial revolution as a major factor in the coming about of it. In more rural areas class is much more simple to understand, it really does just seem to be economic. The same goes for the other “anglo” countries, like Canada or Australia. Some people have nice houses and can afford to send their children to private school for example and others can’t, but the people are the same. When you go into a shop or whatever in a town in Dorset there will be both of those kinds of people but it’d be harder to initially distinguish them. You’d actually need to get to know these people to find out which was which, in London or Leeds or Sheffield you’d know immediately. Now of course in the countryside you also have the aristocracy many of whom have estates thousands of acres in size, but they’re a tiny percentage of the population. I’m just talking about the “normal people” you see day to day.

Now this system does seem to be ever so slowly breaking down, in part because of immigration as I was saying, but for several reasons. I really do mean slowly though, as I said I think in certain areas there is a biological difference between these “castes”, almost like the very earliest stages of the formation of separate ethnic groups. I think that it’s class intermixing is less taboo than ever before though, and so this could be reversed. Americanisation is another big factor certainly, a lot of the things that people use to define and divide themselves are now coming from a place where this specific kind of class division doesn’t exist. It is a slow process though, and in fact in a small way I might be a part of that process. My mum was from a pretty well off middle class background, and my dad was born to a very working class family. In fact I think that being in this weird in-between position is one of the many reasons I’ve always felt a little alienated.

Of my two close friends, one is quite middle class like my mother was growing up and my uncle (her brother) is today, and the other is from a more working class background. I don’t think they would have stayed in contact with one another if not for me functioning almost as a go-between in this friendship. All their other friends are from similar backgrounds from what I can tell. I’m always the one who has to arrange stuff between the three of us, and sure we all get along really well when together but there’s some kind of resistance before that point. I’m pretty much convinced I care about their friendship more than they care about mine, and certainly more than they care about one another’s. That’s not entirely because of class though, it only plays a role, but also because as I said they have other friends and I don’t.

Speaking of alienation though, I’ll try to get back on track with this post. So I’ve written before about how I’ve always had a romanticised view of the loner/ hermit figure or archetype. I can’t find the particular post to link, but it’s come up a few times. I think that in a way I always sort of knew I would end up quite isolated and in fact part of me wanted it to happen. Those kinds of characters, a perfect example being Doctor Moreau, always seemed “cool” and intriguing to me as a kid. I’m not sure why that is, maybe I admire those characters and people in real life who aren’t reliant on anyone else. Or maybe it’s because I already expected to end up alone and I was unconsciously forming a “cope” around it. “I may end up without any friends or anyone who loves me, but look at all these cool characters in novels and films who also don’t have those things”.

I just can’t say, but I do know that the character of Doctor Moreau, even though he himself isn’t actually present for roughly half of the novel, is the character of this kind I felt this about the most. I just thought he was fucking cool, this genius scientist who fled his academic position to do his crazy experiments on an island in the South Pacific (for some reason I always thought it was the South Atlantic until checking today), away from civilisation and other people. He does have his assistant Montgomery, and the beast people, but you get my point. There’s a part fairly on that is really memorable for me, and hopefully it’ll help illustrate what it is that appealed to me.

Just after the main character, Edward Prendick, arrives on the island. He’s taken to the compound that Moreau and Montgomery live in, the creepy implication that there’s something they need to protect against being deliberate I’m sure, and they take out a bottle of Brandy and some biscuits to share. The description of the apartment within the compound that Prendick stays in further adds to the /comfy/ vibe, old scientific books strewn across the place, a hammock, a chair by the window if I remember correctly. Picture it in your head, what you see is like an image that would be posted in a /comfy/ thread on /r9k/ or /wg/.

Now of course Doctor Moreau is not meant to be a relatable or sympathetic character, he’s not exactly the antagonist of the story but he’s clearly shown to be engaging in some rather cruel experiments which some of the beast people (the products of these experiments) resent him for. Nevertheless I did find myself drawn to the character, and I’ve re-read this book multiple times because I so enjoy his story. I will almost certainly read it again, this and The Time Machine, which is why I will be keeping hold of these two books and not throwing them away.

Link to Part 4

Link to Part 6