Away from home

christmas is over, and not surprisingly it was accompanied with that anti-climactic feeling of "what just happened" after the presents were all evaluated and judged and the wrappings littered the floor. this year was a bit more anti-climactic than i'm used to because it was an entirely new experience.
this year, i spent christmas in california with suzanne's family. i had fun and enjoyed the holiday spirit, but in the wake of christmasses past, it lacked a few key components. this year, christmas dinner was a casual onslaught of appetizers and finger foods, presents were all opened on christmas eve and after the presents were opened, the night was over. this was at about 9:30 in the evening, and suzanne's sister packed up her new toys and headed back to her house. envy now washes over me because she has her own place to go back to, whereas suzanne and i are forced to endure 48 hours straight of christmas bliss. and that was pretty much it, all the fun of christmas packed into 3 hours on christmas eve. nobody really felt like going to church, so instead suz and i had a bit of meditation time out in the back yard, staring up at the moon and listening contemplatively to the world around us. this, i enjoyed quite thoroughly, because midnight mass, while part of the christmas ritual, never really gave me a sense of satisfaction, but this did.
and that was it. christmas day was spent lounging. everyone said they were recovering from the torrent of holiday glee, but there were only three hours of holiday glee.
my family christmas is quite different. it starts christmas eve, when my family, my mother's brother and his family and my grandparents all congregate at the ranch house that my grandparents have called home for eons now. my family arrives first and we pile down into the finished basement. you see, the upstairs of the house is reserved for company, and since we're family, we don't count as company. i have spent every single one of my christmas eve's underground in my grandparents' basement, except for the brief stint when my family lived in virginia.
once we get down to the basement, its a mad dash for the bar that my grandfather has. ever since i was old enough to have a bit of wine mixed with ginger ale at the dinner table (13) i have been working on being the family bartender. now i can say that the position is officially mine. so, when we make it to the bar, i whip up a quick round of 7 and 7's (the family drink of choice) for all that are interested. and if you aren't having that, you better be drinking some vino. my grandfather affectionately refers to wine as gasoline or turpentine and several times throughout the meal to come he will turn to me with his empty glass in hand and say in a thick italian accent, "eh, robert, i need a littla bit mora the turpentine." i think the implication is that the wine either powers him like gasoline, or cleans his inner workings like turpentine. either way, its hilarious and will continue to be until the day i die.
eventually my uncle and his family will show up, usually 30 minutes to an hour and a half late. there has never really been an answer as to why this happens, except that my uncle presumably operates on "amico-standard-time" which is my mother's maiden name. once they arrive, i mix up some more drinks and the festivities begin. the platter of pepperoni and cheeses comes out, along with the platter of shrimp coctail and the notorious calamari. for years i couldn't understand putting that stuff in your mouth, but now i realize that the squid is merely a medium by which you can transport the oily, herby dressing that it is bathed in...delicious.
then the real eating begins. my grandmother cooks every bit of the christmas meal, and it usually could serve up to 35 people, though you'll only find 10 at the table. there's pasta, veal, green beans, mushrooms, and an assortment of other italian specialities that i can't remember the names of for the life of me, but the point is that there is a lot of food.
assuming that we sit down to dinner at about 7 or 7:30 we're usually finished by 9:30 or 10...that's a lot of eating, and the wine flows freely while all this i going on. later, pastries and coffee will be served after the presents are opened. in my youth, the presents were the highlight of the evening, and i would spent most of the night begging my grandfather to let us open them, but it was futile, he was solid as a rock in his resolve, and the presents would not be opened until he saw fit. now that i'm older, the presents are less exciting because they aren't toys anymore, they are clothes...boring clothes that usually don't fit, and i usually don't like and usually come from stores that i don't shop at. so, once i get these presents i get to go to the mall, return them for store credit and spend my time trying to find something that i like at abercrombie and fitch. two years ago this translated into a hooded sweatshirt that i gave to suzanne as an ironic gift and a belt for me that i wear almost religiously.
once the presents are done, the paper is cleaned up and coffee is served along with a delicious assortment of cannoli, napoleons, and other puffed pastries from Savoia's which has been fattening my family for two generations now (notice that i capitalized Savoia's, because it is one of the few important things that i consider worthy of capitalization). once everyone is sober and stuffed, and the leftovers have been distributed evenly we pack up and head to our respective houses, this is usually around 12 or 12:30 in the morning on christmas day. we retire to our sleep and wake up the next day, and here's the best part, we do it all over again. my family open's our presents, we have our coffee and breakfasts, we get dressed for the day, and if we didn't go to midnight mass we go after presents are opened. then, if you can believe it, my grandparents come over to my parents' house for another huge meal. its like we play christmas eve in reverse at my parents house so we get to celebrate twice.
this is the type of christmas that i'm used to. i can't say that i'm depressed because i missed it this year, i can only say that i miss it. knowing everything is happening the exact same way comforts me, but doesn't make up for the lack. i look forward to years to come because i doubt many of them will be spent away from family on christmas. and this year, as a surprise, my brother is flying me into rochester after the new year to surprise my parents. so, its not a complete loss because i'm still going to see the lights and the tree and my family. i wouldn't be entirely surprised if a giant family gathering was planned just to relive part of christmas with me around. this isn't pompous, its merely fact. my family has me placed on a golden pedastal probably because i was the first of my generation.
so that's christmas with my family, in a very large nutshell. i can't think of any other way to end this.
merry belated, relived, rehashed, re-analyzed christmas.

what a great logo!!!

so, yesterday i was watching tv instead of working on my grad school applications. i was watching HGTV or some crap like that, and one of those design on a dime, trading spaces, while you were out type of dealies was on. They were in this dude's house shooting the camera all over the place, and soon you notice a very prominent theme. The dude has crosses, like, jesus-style crosses, all over the place. being the witty tv-personality that the host was, she mentioned this and asked what it was all about. this guys response was priceless. honest to god, it went like this:
"its not a religious thing, don't worry about that. see, i'm in marketing, and to me the cross is just a really great logo."
at this point, fire spewed forth from my ears, blood from my eyes and bile from my throat. could he have actually just said that. i'm not particularly religious or anything, and the cross, though important as a symbol of martyrdom and personal sacrifice for the good of humanity, holds no real sentimental value for me. nonetheless, his sacrilege shocked me so much i found myself wishing we had tivo so i could've rewound live television and played it over and over again so his stupidity could've poison my brain ad infinitum. i'll get to tivo in a second, but right now i want to concentrate on two very important questions.
one, why is it that they insist on letting assholes like this on television. he obviously doesn't have anything positive to contribute to humanity. in fact, i highly doubt he really thought about what he was saying. he's probably really good at the whole marketing thing and what he said was probably one of his most clever catch phrases that he couldn't wait to spit out on tv.
two, why is it that we insist on letting assholes like this survive. if i was the camera man on that shoot, i would've considered it my duty to humanity to take out my little tack-hammer of justice and pop that guy right between the eyes. "bad ad-executive...bad."
i don't really know why this whole thing bothered me this much. it was just one of those things that further convinced me of the steady decline of humanity. i mean...an ad executive who collects crosses because they are a great logo, there's no spirituality any more, just crap and money. this guys life was obviously consumed by his work a very long time ago, which wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't in marketing. back in the day your life was your work, not the other way around. you grow what you need to survive and sell the rest. when the field needs to be ploughed, you plow it. when you're out of meat, you better go kill something otherwise you're going to starve. credit was something you did when you had no other choice, not a necessary tool for survival and the foundation of a poorly drafted economic system.
buy buy buy, spend spend spend, its christmas, so go out and be merry. and don't forget, the most important person on your shopping list is yourself. since your pretending to be generous and caring by spending a bunch of money on crap that your family doesn't need and most likely doesn't want, you might as well get yourself something, because the people that are buying you presents don't know you enough to get you the stuff that you want, even if they're your supposed family. what a merry fucking way to spend christmas.
tivo...tivo and all other digital tv recorders that have the advanced capability of taping all your favorite shows and pausing live tv and playing it back are crap. i saw a commercial for one that talked about how great it was that dad could watch the game that he taped because he was busy at work, and how mom could watch the end of the movie that she fell asleep during last night, and how little junior could watch his favorite cartoon when he got home from school, even though it aired at 8 in the morning when he was already out the door.
tv is not this important. it is not a tool by which you can encourage family togetherness. even if you're watching tv as a family, you are not interacting. you are buying into the brainwashing bullshit that they are feeding you, and your personal life is suffering as a result. if you're going to miss one of your shows because you are going out with friends, good, you are participating in something that they used to call reality. its completely unrelated to reality tv, and involves all five sense instead of just sight and sound. its a truly enriching experience, and if you can't handle missing the plotline on some mindless tv drivel and are unwilling to sacrifice tv for your real life, i suggest another form of entertainment. seek therapy. you've clearly lost touch with reality, have no idea what's important in your life, lack a concept of self and have lost function in 80% of your brain.
i know i've spoken a lot of blasphemy here, and a lot of hypocricy. i used to watch tv all the time. i remember once screaming out loud when i realized that i was missing the teenage mutant ninja turtle cartoon. as homer once said, "i've grown, you haven't," and actually that was his response regarding the explosion of reality tv shows and how he can't stand them anymore. isn't it funny how i'm supporting my argument against tv with a quote from a very popular tv show?
i bet that if bart carried a cross instead of a slingshot the marketing director for the simposons could've come up with a really great logo.

radical truth-teller

" TAURUS (April 20-May 20): Have you heard of the book, *Toxic Sludge Is Good for You!: Lies, Damn Lies and the Public Relations Industry?* How about George Orwell's science fiction novel, *1984,* in which the government trumpets the slogan, "War is peace, freedom is slavery, ignorance is strength"? If I could, I'd give you these books as holiday gifts, Taurus. I'd also present you with an altar made of fine wood. With these foundation materials, I'd ask you to begin building a Truth Shrine in your home. This source of power might help you stay alert for and immune to the elevated levels of BS you'll be called on to fend off in 2005. Maybe it would also inspire you to be in service to us all as you earn the title of "Radical Truth-Teller."

i find it highly encouraging that as i enter a new year and hopefully look forward to returning to grad school and philosophy, i can look forward to a lot of "BS." truth-telling really has a nice ring to it, i think i'll really enjoy being a radical truth-teller. philosophy is essentially the pursuit of truth, if you apply to the school of thought that there is an objective truth, which i'm unclear about, which is why i want to go back to school.
truth has always been an important virtue to me, but it took a horoscope for me to have an "aha" moment to the extent that i consciously realize that truth is one of those great words that you can always count on. its maybe one of the only words i'd ever get tattooed on myself.
perhaps if 2005 turns out to be as fun and BS-filled as Rob Brezny seems to indicate, maybe i'll get truth tattooed on my forearm...man, i'd be such a badass philosopher if i got another tattoo related to my philosophical beliefs. philosophy students would be killing eachother to get into my class.
truth...i have some things to consider about this "truth" concept. and i have to get working on that truth shrine.

roomies

i always hated having a roommate. i had to share a room with my brother for far too long and spent most of my pre-teen life petitioning my parents for my own room. then i went to school and had to share a room with a complete stranger, which was fun, but i like having my own place where i can relax the way i want to. its not that i have particularly strange "alone-time" habits, i just don't feel normal unless i get to be myself with no one else around. so sharing a cramped living space with another dude wasn't all i had hoped for. now that i have actually participated in the real world (albeit for a brief stint) the idea of sharing living space with people that i'm not comfortable with is even more repugnant than it has been previously.
i can spend all day, every day with suzanne and i'll feel completely normal. this works out perfectly because we have no money and no jobs, so we pretty much do spend all day, every day together.
throw parents in the mix, and you've got one unhappy pepe. now, not only do i not have my own house, where i can do whatever the hell i want, but i have to be nice, and respectful, and helpful, and not talk back or be sarcastically witty or any of the fun little things that make me rob-ish. at least if i was living with my parents i could be an asshole all the time and they'd get a kick out of it and be laughing even as they chastise me for being "so mean."
its been a wonderful two weeks with my west coast parents in hawaii, but they've returned and therefore i must retreat into my conch shell.
my love put it best when she said:
"ahhhhhhhhh, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, ah. i think that about does it."

I woke up at 2:30

there's nothing like getting a nice fresh start on a day. most people like to do this early in the morning, but since i'm unemployed, lazy and like to stay up late, its much more common for me to approach a day slowly and calmly, much like how one might approach a bear or a rattlesnake, with a great deal of apprehension, and probably with your eyes closed.
i've heard reports, though i insisit i have no recollection of this at all, that at one point in my life, during that rocky transition from 6th to 7th grade, i actually went to school dressed in a pair of jeans and a white turtleneck. since i've repressed that fashion instinct so thoroughly, i can't even begin to imagine what would make me think that i looked good. i was not a skinny kid in 7th grade, which isn't to say that skinny kids are allowed to wear white turtlenecks without anything else over them, but not being fat would've made the look slightly less ridiculous.
i don't really know what i'm talking about right now. i'm just pulling from whatever pops into my consciousness. unfortunately, there are a lot of things popping into my consciousness right now. i used to think it was just me going blank, but really there are just too many things going on for me to put any one of them into words. there's things i want to say, but i'm afraid to say them because i could be so far off the mark that it would just sound ridiculous. worse yet, i'm also worried that the things i really want to say would be so dead on that they might hurt. and, since i'm sturggling with the things i want to say, whether or not i'm right or wrong, trying to censor myself so as to alleviate a situation, trying to figure out what the situation is to begin with and why it seems to get worse, i can't figure out what i'm thinking about anymore.
have you ever twisted your knee or something like that. usually your knee is just your knee, and you don't particularly pay attention to which way its moving or how you control whether or not you will bend it or not, but you have control over it. but, when you twist it, all of a sudden you are very acutely aware of every miniscule movement not just of your leg muscles, but of the vibrations of the air around you and in the upper atmosphere. eventually it swells so much that you can only concentrate on the deepest pain. that's kinda what it feels like for me, like i twisted my brain and its swelling and all i can concentrate on is the pain that started it all. but, unlike twisting your knee, there isn't a distinct moment or anything directly linked to the swelling of my brain, so everything that's going on in there gets amplified until all i can hear is a cacophony of thoughts, words and phrases.
so, i woke up at 2:30 and its pretty much been like that since then.

The road behind

I recently moved out to california under the assumption that my girlfriend's mom would be able to get us jobs quickly and easily. Two months later, that still isn't the case, and instead of working and saving money for grad school, I find myself sitting in front of their computer, blogging. Funny how that worked out.
when i first got here (no more capital letters unless i'm taken by a whim, i'm lazy and i find it gives my writing a certain edginess) one of my greatest interests was the thermometer that they have on the back porch. its not especially interesting, but i enjoyed the fact that it scarcely dipped below 55 degrees. after several weeks of watching this thermometer, i was thoroughly convinced that the thing was broken. though that may sound foolish, it was based on what i believed to be empirical evidence. thanks to my addiction to nicotine, i would often find myself outside during various points of the day, smoking, and i noticed that sometimes, specifically at night, it felt significantly colder than the thermometer would indicate. this is what first led me to believe that the thermometer was broken...if my skin felt cold, then it was obviously cold out and it was probably the thermometer that was giving an incorrect reading, not my skin.
this evidence was further corroborated by another one of my observations. it seemed that no matter when i went outside, the thermometer, now the object of my enmity, read 55 degrees or thereabouts. how could it possibly be the same temperature all the time.
finally, i suggested to my partner in crime, comrade s, that we get her father a new thermometer for the back porch for christmas. this suggestion was met with a haughty laugh and a, "why would we do that?" sort of look on her face. to which i explained that his was obviously broken because it always read the same temperature. it was then when the realization was beaten into me that i was not in upstate new york anymore. in fact i was in san diego, california, where it is not unusual for the temperature to remain the same for...well, forever.
now we're in the early phases of winter here, and it is starting to dip below 40 by 3 in the morning. i see the error of my ways in that i based my judgments on my perception of things, rather than depending on scientific instruments. any cartesian philosopher would tell me that i shouldn't base my judgments of reality on my perception, duh. though, i can't comfortably say that i feel any better basing my judgments of reality on scientific instruments either, i mean...they could be broken, right?

A brief explanation

So, blogging is apparently the thing to do, and since I spend so much time reading other peoples', I figured I might as well offer something up to the collective whole of blogginess.
As it stands, I've kinda been in limbo as far as original thoughts go, but I'm kinda hoping that having a place to vomit up my deepest contemplations might, at the very least make me aware of my internal monologue enough so that I can distinguish it from the white noise of the TV sitcoms from my childhood that are so permanently emblazoned on the back of my brain.
As far as the explanation that I promised...Hineni is Hebrew which is loosely translated as "here I am." I myself am not Jewish, but I hold Jews in high regard. Hineni is an important phrase which finds its philosophic roots in the old testament.
There once was a guy named Abraham, and God told him that he would father a son who would then father the rest of the entire Hebrew people, therefore making Abraham, and his son Isaac, two very important people. But, God can sometimes be a fickle god, and one day called Abraham up and said,
"hey, Abe, I think I changed my mind about you being the great grand-daddy of the chosen people. So, here's what I want you to do. Take Isaac to the top of mount Sinai and make a human sacrifice of him. I'd do it myself, but I've really got my hands full with...well, everything, because I'm god and all."
Abraham, since he was talking with God, really only had one response and it was, you guessed it, "hineni." That's all he could say. I mean, really what else could he say, he was talking to God. He can't really say no, or try to convince God that this was a really bad idea. Instead all he said was "hineni," and it wasn't so much in a, "here I am God, whatever you say I'll do, even if it makes absolutely no freaking sense at all," kinda way.
Abraham was really having a moment there, he was standing before God, which any religious philosopher will tell you is hard to do because the glory of God is too much for a human to even comprehend, but also because in that moment he had to realize, there he is. Abraham, the individual, the person unlike any other, who is now standing outsidethe realm of man and God because he has the daunting task ahead of him of killing his son. He has to forget about everything he knows about the ethical realm of humankind, and put aside all the thoughts he had about him maybe understanding God's plan.
Here he is, alone in a world full of other people that are alone, but he's the only one that knows it.
That's what Hineni means, not just having that moment of realization or feeling alone, but understanding that you are a singular entity which is completely different from everything else in the world. It also has a lot to do with faith and transcendence and a suspension of the ethical realm and all that fun jazz, but this is getting a little long in the tooth, and hopefully you get the main idea.
Oh, and eventually Abraham gets Isaac up the mountain and is just about to cut him up, when an angel stops his blade and tells him to sacrifice the lamb they brought with them, instead of his son. Pretty neat, right?
Hineni.