days of my lives

"Never confuse movement, with action." -- Ernest Hemingway

On the move again. What is this like 7 or 8 times now in 18 months? I'm running out of fingers, so I'm losing count. I'll be very close to Surfer's Paradise which is nice, I'll have plenty of options for when I go out sarging now, lol.

Ever notice how the amount of kipple that you accumulate is always disproportionate to the space in which it's stored. I'm such a girl. How do you fit 20 metric tonnes of stuff into one room? Unbelievable.

We're well into the year of our Lord 2010, and I'm marginally better than before. Marginally. That's not the kind of progress I like to make. I want quantum leaps, not little ant steps. I keep telling myself when I get settled, find a place where the grass is always green and all that, then I'll be good to go, but life doesn't work that way. You've got to draw your line in the sand and then no matter what: do it. If you have to, burn the boat you sailed in on. Retreat is not an option.

I'm a bit agitated, so I'm not going to do something now that the experts say you shouldn't ever do, that would be bad like using double negation in a sentence. If you're going to set a goal don't tell people about it (cheers Whore of all the Earth), just shut up and do it. So I wont tell you Internet, my friend, that I'm going to do this certain thing. You're a smart-like entity, read between the lines, you'll figure it out. Those who know do not say, those who say do not know, ya know?

Snorlax understands the principle of doing by not doing. Be the Snorlax!

As a young man in neutral, and poster child of the lost generation X, I'll just drop this one hint, things they will be a changin. Change, it's inevitable except from vending machines. Consider this fair warning universe. I wont repeat myself. Until next time.

fate grows impatient

"Life is a sexually transmitted disease." R. D. Laing

Life happens. This is not necessarily inevitable, except maybe in our universe, and particularly on this planet at this time. It could be seen as a gift. The plasticity of language and broad scope of interpretation allow you to wrap the world in whatever decorative paper you feel is appropriate for the occasion. Call it good or bad, or some variant of grey tone maybe when your emotional printer is running low on colour ink. Call it whatever you like, life is here, but unfortunately not here to stay. It is a tenuous fragile thing, prone to fade at any moment, likely in less time than the minute of copulation that proceeded its advent. Scarcity drives value. Is it any wonder that capitalism has become the economic vehicle of choice? Time is running out. I'm more scant than Hailey's comet, supernovae, and Kim Kardashian's wardrobe. I will never happen again for quite probably an eternity. Therefore I have decided to tag life with the simple descriptor: Good.

Once existence is established and conveniently categorized, where to from there?

on the way home (again)

I was listening to Bill Bryson today, while preparing to move out of my flat. It was A Short History of Nearly Everything, specifically. I'm looking for a place that I'll call home #6 in about a year and a half of being on the Gold Coast. This almost nomadic-like house hopping is made possible, because, In The Beginning, there was a Big Bang (at least that's generally the consensus on the best way to start the story). Sometimes I genuinely feel the need "to be still and know" that there's something much bigger than myself out there. Some people call it God, I call it the universe. Thanks Bill.

An unfathomable amount of unlikely events have transpired since time has been steadily unfolding at one second per second. One of the unlikely, almost miraculous, results of this combinatorial explosion of possibilities is my existence. Well, pretty much the existence of everything is nigh on miraculous. It all conjures up that age old question: why is there something instead of nothing? Scientists, usually the most ardent supporters of Occham's razor, have a strange and somewhat unexpected answer (if you can call it that). There are infinitely many universes of which ours just happens to be one, and a rare one at that. In our particular permutation, all the elements in play found a delicate balance, such that life was able to emerge. Do not multiply entities unnecessarily, except in the case of universes, I suppose. But back to me ;) Of all the universes in all of the multiverse, of all the atoms in existence, of all the people who ever had sex at one point or another, somehow I won the consciousness lottery (along with 6 billion others and their ancestors). It's amazing. Ahh *pause* and here I am ... Alive.

The reason why this comes as a mildly exultant epiphany at this particular time is because I am concerned that if this truly is the only chance I get -- no doubt my atoms will take on some other form, only without my memories, at the point of my extinction -- then I should probably start enjoying things just a tad more; this is all well and good, but it has come to my attention that I have certain issues that need processing that are, at present, inhibiting my ability to do so. I am a bitter ex-Mormon, with a raging hard-on for atheism. Now there's nothing wrong with the latter part of that statement, except possibly the word choice, but I feel the ex-Mormon part needs some addressing.

I was under the impression that I had already easily negotiated all 5 stages of grief and even Fowler's 6 stages of faith in less than 3.5 seconds (but maybe in regards to the grief, I've been stuck in 1st the entire time: Denial). Given the vastness of my intellect, which by the way, is rivaled only by the immensity of space itself, and my considerably more limited emotional range, I thought that I could put the tragic little episode, popularly known as my Crisis of Faith, behind me, for good, like an unremarkable piece of refuse flushed away and forgotten forever. But I was wrong. Shocking, I know. A good friend of mine from New Zealand, now living in Korea, yes you Justin, has been in contact with me recently over this very blog and the results have been mixed, but usually bad. Bad, because somewhere deep in the recesses of my dark soul, an as yet untapped vein of pent up animosity has been revealed and I haven't handled it well, instead I've started mining. It turns out I'm pissed off, so sometimes I write stupid things like the last post I did (I still held back quite a bit, can't let Mr. ID completely out of the cage. Yet). Call it writing as therapy.

I really thought I was over this. I didn't want this blog to be one of those angry apostate ones. I'm an enlightened individual, above the common pettiness of mere mortals, or so I thought. Perhaps, I somehow managed to ignore the very real pain left in the wake of the upheaval of my entire world. Even convinced myself it wasn't there for a while. I'm good at masking pain (we'll get into that another day), but this time I've really out done myself. If the catholic church has taught me anything it's that when you suppress certain aspects of your humanity that probably should be expressed, sometimes they manifest themselves anyway in unwanted and very repulsive ways (there I go, being offensive again). Somebody get me a fixer. It might be time that I start dealing with my little problem directly, although I'm not sure what that means yet. So, beware as I get all introspective up in this public space, things could get ugly. I guess I just need to be patient and as excruciating as it is humble, as I try to find a new home (in more ways than one), a new way, a greater peace. Shalom.

cakewalk

Mortality is staring me in the face. The obnoxious touch of it's gaze prompts me to action. Pure physical uninhibited action. But first I've got this cool manga to read... dodadodado .... Manga, awesome, kangaroos, bifurcate, cool, um, manga I should draw some. Wait a cotton picking tooting arbitrarily measured unit of change. I can't draw. I mean everyone can draw. Just like everyone can sing. That's what some one told me. I agree, but most people do these things badly. Maybe after a million, years I could learn to sing proficiently. No, even that wouldn't be long enough. There's that mortality thing too remember, I haven't got that long. You know, NBA players clock up thousands of minutes a year practicing and playing bball, and some of them still can't dunk. No, singing is out of the question. Sometimes physical limitations disqualify certain actions. Where was I, ah yes drawing, occasionally there is verisimilitude between what I see and what I draw. This is always shocking when it happens. I will never be a virtuoso. This ain't gonna be no cakewalk (bonus points for using dictionary.com's word of the day). I may just have to settle for mediocrity, but there's a long way to go before I even reach that point. Mortality I will not go down without a fight, I will scratch and claw and hustle and leave my little tags defacing the place, you'll see, but first wow what's this the internet...

30 something

"My father never went to college, so it was really important I go to college. After college, I called him long distance and said now what? My dad didn't know. When I got a job and turned twenty-five, long distance, I said now what? He didn't know, so he told me to get married. I'm a thirty year old boy, and I'm wondering if another woman is the answer I need." Chuck Palahniuk (channeling Tyler Durden in Fight Club)

What is the answer? That is a perplexing question. Remember Chuck's gay, so that may have sub-consciously influenced the above statement (but probably not). I'm not gay, but it still makes sense to me, marriage isn't on the cards. Good, that's one less thing to worry about.

When Jesus turned 30 he began his ministry and whether you believe him or not he made a reasonably significant impact on history. Whatever the case he was fairly audacious, claiming to be the son of God and the saviour of the world. Not bad, Jesus, not bad. In the sci-fi film Logan's Run population growth is kept in check by putting to death anyone who turns 30. By the time Alexander the Great was 30 he had conquered much of the known world. So many options, so little time.

When I turned 30, today, I played possibly my worst game of football ever and that's about it. The more things stay the same, the more they change. Growing up keeps happening chronologically, but I'm still a boy like the quote says. Where to from here? I predict that I'll continue to get older. So, the only thing left now is legacy and my good looks. "I don't want to become immortal through my work, I want to become immortal by not dying," (cheers Woody) the latter may not be possible, so I'll settle for the former. I've got a lot of not being lazy to do, and when you're a little boy or a big one that's just about the hardest thing there is.

P.S. Happy Birthday to me!

deus ex machina?

Never expose yourself unnecessarily to danger; a miracle may not save you...and if it does, it will be deducted from your share of luck or merit. - The Talmud

I can't tell if I'm more or less prone to accidents than others. I've only been me as long as I can remember. Going on pure intuition, I'd say I have a higher incidence than most. This is mere speculation. I wont bother to innumerate the painful details surrounding the events of my inductive reasoning here, one will suffice.

I was 6, maybe 7, years old and my parents generously decided that the passing of another birthday was cause for excessive celebration. Their gift as recognition for my being year older surpassed any reasonable expectation, considering that neither 6 nor 7 are notable milestones as far as age goes. We were a middle class family and I suppose in typical middle class fashion we (or they) spent more than they could afford. I didn't complain. They flew me from New Zealand to Hawaii. Hang loose dude.

We stayed with one of my cousins there. During an excursion to a public pool, my dad helped my younger cousin restrap his goggles which had become loose. I stayed in the pool while they worked on their little project out on the margins of the poolside area. I was instructed to hold on to the edge . I hadn't yet learned to swim. A gross over sight, as I'd soon discover, but a marginal concern at the time. I don't know if I was bored, suicidal or just stupid, but somehow I managed to lose my grip on terra firma and I found myself "floating" helplessly away from safety and into the 6 foot deep abyss of chlorine flavoured water.

I had a perfect understanding of what was happening at that moment. I was drowning and I could possibly die. That's an unacceptable outcome when all you're trying to do is enjoy your birthday present. I flailed my arms, which didn't seem to help much. I tried to yell for help, but all that did was help me take on water even faster. I learned later in life that sound travels through water more efficiently than it does through air. I know from experience though that this fact works better as a theory than it does in practice.

There I was at the bottom of the pool. Waiting for the grim reaper or hopefully someone else to notice that I was no longer visible above the surface. That's when it happened. I felt 'something', I don't know what, helping me back to the edge, back to safety. Dad came over like the police in every action movie ever made, too late to do anything useful, but just in time to clean up the left overs of the important stuff he missed. I just used up a big chunk of my allotted luck and I wasn't happy.

There are a number of explanations for this unusual occurrence, I will leave many to the imagination but here are some possibilities: I could have spontaneously learned to swim at the exact moment that I needed it the most, through some kind of strange permutation of an adrenaline rush. This seems unlikely, because I didn't officially learn to swim until some ten years later (maybe someone uploaded swimming knowledge into my brain ala the matrix and wiped it as soon as I started breathing air again). Accounting for the helping hand that I remember complicates things. It could be a false memory, a confabulation of a simple child exposed to too much religion. Or I could accept that the universe wanted me around in that and this form for just a little bit longer. This can not be discounted. Anthropomorphising the universe might be frowned upon by people who don't like that sort of thing, so for the sake of the positivists around us let's just say the universe for no particular reason kept me alive that day. That cannot be disputed. I'm still breathing air.

It's tempting to remain agnostic (and by agnostic I just mean in the general sense, a lack of commitment to any explaination at all) about my deliverance from the dread clutches of a watery grave, but that really is a soft option (sometimes). The thing I like about theists and atheists alike is that although they are often ideologically overbearing at the best of times at least you know where they stand. I can understand the merit of suspending judgment on a topic, because all the facts aren't yet in, but it's impossible for us to collect all the facts on most issues (what are you afraid of? that you might, gasp, be wrong about something, that would be just unacceptable), sometimes you just have to make a decision.

My interpretation on what happened is that singularities do exist. If you look at medicine, a discipline that has probably hurt just as many people as it has helped, you'll find that doctor's generally prescribe treatments based on a general model of how a general human will react. On average this is an effective way of working, but not always an efficient one. Each of us is unique physiologically, psychologically and probably just about any other way you can think of. The universal approach is obviously useful for any one that it works for. For patients who are different enough to respond to the standard treatments in unexpected ways (my dad is one of these people, serves him right) particularism needs to come into play. It's rare that you'll find a universal approach that is ever going to work unequivocally in all situations when dealing with complex systems. Chaos can be unpredictable, just like reality. There are just too many anomalies out there. I am one of them. I should be dead.

My Eulogy

For fun Fast forward to my death. What would the world look like>>

"We are here today to celebrate the passing, sorry I'm a little nervous. To celebrate the life of our dearly departed friend, the late Loren Hopkins. He was a good man, a kind man, a man of rare and misguided breeding. His scruples we're always wound tighter then a supermodel's butt cheeks, but we loved him. It all started on a beautiful day in 19...blah blah blah."

2 minutes later...

"Damn we'll miss him. Would anyone else like to say anything?

Anyone?"

A dark figure entered from the back of the chapel, he was wearing shutter shades -- a gimcrack that Kanye West had regrettably reintroduced into the sphere of socially acceptable fashion -- and a black three quarter coat. He solemnly marched to the podium and removed his shades. Gasps pinballed throughout the audience.

"Trust me to be late for my own funeral, a few complications almost kept me from being here tonight, but, well, here I am; With apologies to Mark Twain 'The rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated', who when you think about it is actually dead now." *Loren paused as if expecting an additional response to this inane insight, it however was easily overpowered in the minds of the onlookers by his surprising revivification.* "Ahem, I appreciate so many of you being here tonight." *In truth the number of attendees left something to be desired.* "And I hate to send you home disappointed, but while I was sitting at the pearly gates waiting for my number to be called I realised that there was something I'd forgotten to do here. As quickly as possible I made arrangements for my return. Many kind things have been said tonight most of which (like my death) were exaggerations. I never quite lived up to my end of the bargain down here, so I've decided to make a comeback and settle my unfinished business. I'm sure you'll all understand, second chances are uncommon, so do what you can when you can and do it the best. It took me a while to learn that, I was 29 years old when I lived for the first time. You'll have to excuse me now, I should be writing. Thank you. Peace out."

There was no solitary clap building in a crescendo to a rousing ovation. There wasn't much of anything in the way of response. Silence hung over the congregation like a very unpleasant cloud.

Then one man stood up. "If you're you, then who's that lying in the casket?!?"

'Ummm."

And so it was that Loren returned to the land of the living.

Why is God a fractal? The Aesthetic of God, Agency and a mishmash of many other things 1

"Only a Sith deals in absolutes."

Add to that list the gods and demons, in between all that there's a large spectrum of possibility. With this ample wiggle room to operate we can theortically touch on all aspects of the human experience. As I go about my business I sometimes wonder with all the variantions available why are certain options privelaged above others. I'm not advocating relativism just examining how and why the universe picks its favourites.


Ten fingers and ten toes help make up the mormon conception of the form of God. This is an astonishing doctrine. Because of this heritage we reverence our bodies out of respect for deity and treat them as temples. Why not twelve fingers and twelve toes? Why is God a fractal? The Mormons have a large healthy blogging community where (probably )this and many topics which I'm interested in have already been examined, I want to explore all these well tread "difficult issues" in the church. Well tread by others maybe, but I've never really explored the teritory myself, now is as good a time to start as any.


to be continued...next: evolution

The World According to Loren

In the beginning I began writing a blog and I saw it and it was good. Then I thought about things and considered revising my opinion. As a proud member of the late majority and since everyone else has been blogging since sometime last century I thought I'd slip comfortably into my wait-and-see-what's-popular role and start doing the same. This collection of writings will reflect my slightly perverse view of life and document my attempts to become a God or perhaps more realistically I'll have to settle for taking over the world.

In the humanistic tradition of self-absorption my first blog is all about me and my life. The world according to Loren. Some names will be changed to protect the innocent, some wont to embarrass the guilty. You've been warned; let the games begin.