Discourse Part II

After a number of days I'm still struggling to figure out the content of a conversation that I had. This is not because I can't recall it, but rather the topics were so fraught with intriguing questions, that any answers I could've offered just seemed trivial.

We sauntered up to an empty venue. Some guy said something like, "I wish I would've remembered to promote this show" as we entered. Sure enough, as my eyes adjusted to the dimly lit bar my concerns were affirmed. But as hindsight would have it, if the hundreds of clamoring LoDo-ites hadn't dismissed Larminer Lounge that night, Chris and I would've been deprived of a very enlightening evening.

For about five or six years I'd call him one of my best friends. Not only on levels of relatability but also because I very much respect his integrity. On quite a few different levels, we reciprocate interests, but the true testiment to any friendship seems to be in dissonance. Of course there are rarely disagreements but introspectiveness occurs mostly at, vulnerable times, we both agree, and requires a self-reflecting mentality.

A sequence of events earlier in the evening paved the way for another double whiskey, and Chris took a cautious measure as any driver should. The band was comprised of four or five smiling folks but as endearing a they were, their sound reverberated off the empty room only to be absorbed by a few adoring fans. After standing through their set, we took a seat near the wall and begun talking.

My disaccord towards the number of issues that I feel are weighing me down, prompted a degree of self-awareness that I hoping will stimulated a more proactive lifestyle. This is more or less what I recall from the conversation.

I think the most pressing of matters dealt with the philosophy. It was predominately centered around the notion the we have no means to define ourselves or understand human choice other than simply an assertion of our own will. Action determines reaction. A pretty simply worded inquiry, but so complex a four hour conversation about it didn't even scratch the surface. Though we agreed this notion is more or less intuitive, our basis for this perplexing introversion dealt with an instability of ambitions; in his work and in my schoolwork.

Perhaps my rejection of homogenized western religion conditioned me to think that if my self-awareness is properly enlightened/educated/cultivated, then I can see the common good as my own-self interest. Taking into account that likewise, this country and the "common good" is essentially Christian, I strongly believe that our moral code is defined not from our religion, but an innate quality of humanity. Here is where I mention that the warm fuzzy image of a white male savior just seems far too contrived to be a Way of Life. Disregarding other angles of philosophy and dogmas renders a shortsighted worldy view. So at this pivotal point in our lives, we realized we all certainly should read more of the Koran, Rigveda of Hinduism, Christian scriptures, Kitab-i-Aqdas, Bon Kangyur and Tengyur, or any other holy book to gain a contextual knowledge of how foreign cultures operate. We should travel to submerge ourselves in hopes of understanding the aestheticism behind the art, written word, architecture, and conventions. Or to understand that the gentility is primarily conditional upon a certain definition of normal.

We weaved in and out of intricate discourse that I feel profoundly affected my overall well-being. I realized that the upshot is simply to examine a worldly perspective, devoid of the mundayne everyday concerns. Though my classes this semester may not be adequately challenging my desire to read and write, merit can absolutely be derived. Though my demeanor in Lawrence is a far cry from a state of elation, still, the fate of my own well-being is entirely contingent upon my perspective, attitude, and self-fulfilled prophecy.

Esse Quam Verdi - To be, rather than to appear.


Cognito Ergo Sum...whatever I already am or want to be.

...more to come.

Discourse Part I

It occured to me recently that my sense of 'me' wasn't quite what it was a few years ago. It seems that in a surge of negative outcomes just in this semester, my overall well-being has been far more taxed than ever. Given these events, I would imagine that not just me, but any thoughtful person would take a moment to consider what changes should be made...if any. But in order to analyze what steps need addressing, I must first examine the town that has conditioned me to think the way I do...

Lawrence, KS. As one of the most robust places on earth, it appeals to pretty much every demographic. The shrubby mint wafts of pachouli and hand drum reverberations are only combatted by Fred Phelps' trusty band of berating baptists marching through to concentrate on the 'pertinent' issues. You will also find that the transition from student to drunken havoc reaper is conditional only upon the time of day and the sports teams. But even these miscreants are embraced by the small town Lawrence yokels that make-up what many dub the only place in Kansas worthy of living. What can I say? I wouldn't have it any other way. This town branded me with it's liberal mark and I couldn't be happier to call it home.

There are, as well, a number of intellectual facets to the community. The hicks, hippies, bros, punks, drunks, dweebies, dickheads, and rightous dudes, are not the only individuals who comprise this little bubble (thx j. hughes). There exists extremely well-rounded artistic enterprises in poetry, literature, art, music and just about every channel of subjective expression you could conjure up. Catering to music of all calibers and genres, readings and speakers, Lawrence, KS, by golly gots it. (I have to keep reminding myself I'm not Rick Steves.) Although, I'm so used to defending this godforgiven intolerant state that I end up steamrolling my arsenal of praises into strangers without my thinking about it. Preconcieved notions and steriotypes are just foundations for jokes, I understand that and even like it, but if I hear one more person make a comment in jest about The Wizard of Oz or anything affiliated, I'm probably going to snap. Aside from this, though, I proudly endure the best and worst of this town but the close-knit community is woven perhaps a little too tight.

What I found most appealing, upon moving here to follow my academic pursuits was the english department. I was granted the opportunity to study a mode of expression that was celebrated by these individuals as what keeps them on an even keel. I remember my freshman year listening to a professor speak about the creation process. He said that we render words from thoughts and history through accounts. I saw value in this. Gradually as I grew more comfortable with the department, I deplored less and less about the "practicality" of the major and saw it more as a enjoyable pursuit. Perhaps this only appears in hindsight but I very much enjoyed the English courses that I took and, am hoping, I grasped some tiny piece of craft for the language. As I stand now, the majority of those courses have been endured and now I face the mundayne teduim that is buisiness lecture classes. Finance, Accounting and Econ, all of which I am currently enrolled in, have taken their toll on my overall morale. But what exists within my discontent is a fighting urge to stand up and yell, "fuck it." I find no intellectual voracity, just a deterrent from what I enjoy pursuing.

This is one of many inspirations for the abstruse conversation prompted last week.

A First Entry a Second Time

I'm inclined to say that it is out of my nature to publicize intimate and accurate information about my life. Not because I have a difficulty in expression or honesty, but because in this avenue of exposition, there exists the tendency to offer unwarrented portrayals of prowess and self-aggrandization. In other words, I think that blogged stories are not wholly, but slightly prone to fabrication. Therefore, my goal is to offer comprehensively truthful accounts of experience and in turn, my ruminations, that will hopefully be unaffected by my audience; be it my grandmother or best friend. So come gentle reader, and construe my various forms of self-expression....observe, not appraise.

(What you've just read is an impotent version of what I had previously written then accidently deleted. What a futile first attempt at bloggerdom. I hope technology doesn't destroy my morale again for the rest of the day.)