The Art of Sleeping

All this life and nothing to do with it. What I need is a framing device. Something that will bring meaning and purpose. When I grow up I want to be a sleeper.

I've been reading Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell, I will probably mention this quite often. It only takes about 10,000 hours to become a genius at anything and contrary to popular belief, you need to be both lucky and good.

When I'm tired my eyes don't get heavy they get sore. I've got fatigue deposits all over the inside of my right eyeball. All the masters spend hours dedicating their lives to their monomaniacal passion. I'm thinking I'm going to spend 1/3 of my life doing this. I think I've found my bliss. There's nothing like sleeping off a good headache or even a bad one.

I will sleep where ever and whenever I want. When people ask what I do for a living this will be my answer (I was recently 'let go' by my former employer). I think I've stumbled on something here. I really have. Still this doesn't really separate me from the majority of the human race. If everyone can do it, it looses some of its gloss. I suppose I'll need to continue my search for genius elsewhere. As for now I'm going to sleep. Dream easy boys and girls.

17 days later...

I am still alive.

God has a distinct advantage I can't see him, but he can see me.

I have watched 4 seasons of Lost in a two week span. I hadn't watched any episodes before then.

I have stolen elements from Lost and written them in a story that I wrote before I'd ever seen it (see my attempts at fiction from earlier in this blog), sounds like something from Lost.

Lost is possibly the greatest series in the history of television.

I have taken a vow of celibacy against fast food. I don't know if this is possible. Celibacy by definition probably isn't broad enough to encompass food of any variety. I've been known to do some strange things in my time.

I have converted to Buddhism or Neo-Nazism or maybe I'm just tired of looking at my asymmetrically receding hairline. Either way I'm shaving my head today.

I am a gun salesman who may be fired. This metaphor must stand on its on merits.

It's time to go to sleep.

Good night.

On Matters of Faith 1

"Give me rampant intellectualism as a coping mechanism." -- Chuck Palahniuk (Invisible Monsters)

I'm naturally skeptical (aka pessimistic) about almost everything. If there were no contradictory belief or practice to contradict this one I would sponteaniously cease to be human.

1.All Men have beards

2.Aristotle and Loren Have Beards

3.Therefore Loren and Aristotle are Men

The syllogism is sound, at least one of the premises is untrue while the conclusion is probably true although Aristotle is no longer with us. Yes, even logic can be confusing, but that doesn't mean it is not useful.

Is everything just chemistry and physics subject to reductionist thinking? Was metaphysics 101 a complete waste of time? No.

I don't know what I'm trying to say here. I'll continue tomorrow.

measuring my manhood one inch at a time, 1

These pieces constitute the back ground radiation to my origin point. That really is a bad comparison, but it sounds cool.

Should I bare a little more of my soul to the internet? I'm bored, so hey why not.

There are little things that happen who's impact may be lost because I've got a bad memory. It's not even that. I just want a reliable place to store them. Do you ever get the feeling that you're empowering an imaginary weakness by giving it voice. Are words incantations? Spells? I answer to a specific noise which takes the written form of Loren. Ferdinand De Saussure you where good for something after all.

Yes, those tiny details that make up the backdrop of your life while you're busy taking centre stage. That's what I'm talking about. What good is data without interpretation? I need to filter the flotsam somehow, here is a clumsy attempt to do so, a reductive approach to my collection of complexity. Starting tomorrow.