Are we losing our collective minds?

A man shot 6 people in Orlando today, killing one. Yesterday's death toll at Fort Hood is high - is it up to ten yet? In the days before, police dug up 10 dead bodies at a man's house in Cleveland. And, I'm sure there are many other murders that happened recently that didn't make the national news. Here in Maine, a man attempted to kill his mother, killed his father, dissappeared for a few days and then showed up a truck stop, where he had a cup of coffee. When the police arrested him, he asked that they allow him to pay for his drink.

Since Columbine, now ten years ago, people have been asking "what's going on in America?" We were asking that question before then, when there was a rash of disgruntled employee murders, which spawned the expression "going postal."

I do think we've lost our collective minds, but this country was forged in violence, and we also celebrate it at the same time we let out our collective gasps of horror, so I'm not surprised when these things happen. We love our mass murderers. Last year, Newsweek had a cover story about mass murderers that had a two-page graphic spread where we could see the body count of all the famous killers. Each dead person was nameless - just an icon somewhat like the ones we see for men's bathrooms. I could imagine a would-be nutjob wanting to beat the record.

Then there's the television shows. Every night one can watch a show about killing. I'm not immune, even as I ask myself "why am I watching this?" On Criminal Minds this week, we learned about enucleators, people who gauge the eyes from their victims. There's enough of them to warrant its own term. This episode was the stuff of parody. Who thinks up these things? Let's see - there's a young boy who lives with his father and leaves school after the 4th grade when the mother died. Dad's a taxidermist. Mom had retinosa pigmentosa (an eye disease that causes blindness). Boy loves hunting. Dad dies and boy tries to do taxidermy but he's no good at eyes, so he goes out and kills people to get "good ones." Wow - those writers sure know how to come up with a plot!

Okay, I know this seems like it's beside the point, but I don't think it is. It screams of desperation to find a new reason for murder, a hunger for understanding that's misplaced (and displaces) real analysis. Well, that's entertainment. How many motives and scenarios can one come up with?

The truth about murderers is that, for the most part, their motivations are fairly mundane - not the stuff of mystery - abusive backgrounds, mental illness, triggers in the environment that cause an unraveling of control.Hannah Arendt wrote about the banality of "evil."

All this aside, I do think Americans are in a strange emotional place. Anger and resentment are high. Folks like Limbaugh and Beck are fueling those fires. Unemployment, which I suspect (as do folks who know) is much higher than what is reported. The endless wars are taking their toll on those in the military and their loved ones. The future doesn't look so rosy. When someone "snaps", even as we may profess shock, we can also understand why.

I have no conclusion. I'm only ruminating. It's a gray and gloomy day. We've had our first snow and it doesn't look pretty. The big tree branch that holds our main bird feeder fell down and is sitting in the wet snow looking sad. I'm wondering where I can hang it up. My house needs a good cleaning. No, don't worry, I'm not going to snap and go kill someone because I'm overwhelmed by chores that need doing and a lack of work, but it does make me think of people who do.

Painting note: Octave Tassaert "An Unfortunate Family" 1852

In which I change my mind

After reading Ta-Nehisi Coates' blog today, I've changed my mind about being so understanding of the yes on 1 voters. Okay, I still think that their opinions are generated by fear more than hatred, but perhaps it's more useful, or at least empowering, to see that it is discrimination, pure and simple, and not try to analyze any further than that. It's not okay to discriminate. If you are afraid your children are being exposed to things that you think are wrong, take them out of the public schools. Anyway, it's totally hypocritical of the Glenn Beck-loving folks to use the public schools, or anything else that's funded by government. Get off the roads, people! According to Beck, that's socialism.

Maine punditry

Reading pundits scratching their heads about Maine voters makes me want to tear my hair out (a little bit). I don't want to sound like a person who's complaining about the intellectual elite 'cause I actually like the idea of an intellectual elite. But, they've got to have better analytic skills than the average person, right?

One blogging head said he was still puzzling over how such a secular state as Maine is could have voted against marriage equality. This idea that Maine is a secular state comes from a recent poll (those darn polls again!) showing that Maine has a lower than average amount of church goers. C'mon folks, don't you think it could be possible that there isn't an exact correlation between church attendance and religiosity?

Most of my neighbors are not affiliated with any church. However, many of my neighbors are also fundamentalist Christians. One woman I know doesn't go to church but she sends her kids to Bible Camp. When I lived in another town, I knew of many people whose kids went to a fundamentalist Christian after school program. It was free. That group was loosely affiliated with Focus on the Family, and they indoctrinated the kids with all sorts of messages that they'd bring home to their parents. A free program for poor kids? Smart move. They're "doing good" for the community - might as well take their advice when voting. They handed out dummy ballots showing people exactly how to vote. One of the general stores had tall stacks of these ballots right next to the cash register.

I played a little game an hour ago. I looked at the list of towns in my county and guessed as to how they voted. Squeaker, or significant win for either yes or no - I got every town right on the money. Maybe I should become a pundit.

But really, how did I do so well? I didn't rely on any polling data. Here's the somewhat sad criteria I used:

1. Poverty - Poverty, in my opinion, is the biggest predictor of conservative voting amongst white people.

2. Education - I will reference study data (without the numbers). The more education one has, the more likely one is to be liberal.

3. Isolation - People in rural areas are less exposed to diversity and are more likely to be afraid of it.

4. Lastly, and unique to Maine, whether people were born here or not is a big predictor of voting. Folks who were not born here are called "from away". They bring the values of where they're from with them. Many "folks from away" came here during the back to the land movement and settled in some very rural areas. Towns with fewer folks from away vote more conservatively.

Now, given all this, I wouldn't have predicted that voting for expanding the use of medical marijuana and opening dispensaries would pass so easily. Then again, folks up here do generally think "live and let live" and there's also an awful lot of people who smoke weed here in Maine. It's odd how live and let live doesn't fully extend to gay people. Honestly, I think it does (for the most part) but people aren't quite ready to legislate it. Remember - the initiative won by a slim margin.

I think of this couple I once met - a lesbian couple, one black and one white, and one of whom was planning on having sexual reassignment surgery (and was quite open about it). They lived in a tiny town downeast (the northern coast of Maine). I heard many a person from that town make jokes about gays and black people. But this couple was accepted fully. Why? They were good neighbors and, as one person put it (of the larger of the two woman), "She handles her chainsaw well." Having a well-stacked supply of wood goes a long way up here in Maine.

The culture wars continue

The vote has been tallied here in the middle of nowhere, Maine. In my small rural town, the vote "to reject same sex marriage" (as the Bangor Daily News calls it) has won by 20 votes. 178 people voted yes. 158 people voted no. As far as rural hamlets go, it was pretty close. Curious about the entire state? Click on the paper's link, above. It's pretty interesting, though quite predictable. The more rural the location, the more votes for "yes." Also, here in Maine, more liberal views thrive (if you can call it that) on the coast. My town is only 20 minutes from the ocean, so even though I tend to think of it as totally redneck, well, it's a pretty even split as far as voting goes.

And so, the culture wars continue. The ballot counting is not over, but I suspect that the yes votes will win, as the uncounted ballots are coming from the more rural areas. I voted on a paper ballot and stuffed it into a locked wooden box. It takes some time counting ballots. Some of that time is spent reading the notes people write on them.

Here's my take on marriage, gay or otherwise: I don't think the government should be in the business of marrying anyone. As far as I'm concerned, marriage is a religious institution. If one goes to a court to get "married", it should be a civil union for everyone. This civil union is a legal contract between two people, one that religious beliefs have nothing to do with.

The government can't force a church to marry gay couples and I respect that. We (supposedly) have separation of church and state. If this were truly so, then no religious views would interfere with the right of a gay couple to have a judge perform a civil union.

Sure, this idea strips the romance out of marriage, but it's fair and sensible. People who want to get married can still do so, and this would include gay people, but for legal purposes, not religious ones, civil unions would be the norm. If people want to have celebratory parties (often called weddings) where they declare their vows, well, nobody can stop them.

I don't mean to sound flip or callous. I'll be sad when I learn tomorrow morning that Maine showed the rest of the nation that it is composed of a lot of ignorant people who think allowing gay people to marry will somehow corrupt children and undermine conventional marriage. I'll also be sad for all the gay people who will, once again, come face to face with the fact that they are still not granted the same rights as other Americans.

I know my viewpoint is not popular. I've explained it to many people and they are almost offended by it. It poses a problem to non-religious straight folks. It strips them of their right to get married without a religious ceremony and that forces them to think about just what marriage is.

I can't help thinking about how the membership of the Unitarian Church would skyrocket if my idea went through.

"That's not a phobia"

When I first lived in New York City, it was not the city it is now. It had just gone bankrupt (see infamous image above). The mental hospitals had just let out their long-term patients and the streets were filled with muttering and screaming people. The subways were close to terrifying. In some neighborhoods, one could see guns sticking out of the top of men's jeans. The gutters were littered with used needles. On the up side, it was cheap to live there, believe it or not.

I lived on the 6th floor of a tenement and had trouble sleeping at night. I was scared, pure and simple. I had at least three locks and a steel rod against my door. I also kept a big steel rod between my bed and the wall (though I couldn't imagine hitting anyone with it). The windows to the fire escapes had metal bars, but these didn't seem secure enough to me. I didn't just have trouble sleeping at night. I pretty much didn't do it. I slept during the day, and some evenings would feel so much fear that I'd call my father. I don't recall what advice he gave me, but whatever it was it didn't help. I was constantly sleep deprived and the minute it became dark out my anxiety would grow until I imagined all sorts of horrors. The odd thing is that I felt pretty safe out on the street. I could handle the street. I knew how to walk fast, keep my eyes averted, act tough, and deflect trouble. But, in my apartment I felt vulnerable. Sometimes when I'd had enough, I'd sleep at friends' apartments. Just a bit of company would make my fear go away.

I couldn't stand living like this. I thought my fear was disproportionate to reality. I wanted to rid myself of it; I didn't want a phobia running my life. So, I did some legwork (this was before the internet) and found a good center for the treatment of phobias. The kicker? They didn't think I had one. I called over and over again, trying to convince somebody to consider treating me. But, I was always met with the same argument: my fear was not irrational.

Was it that dangerous to live in a tenement in New York? Other people slept through the night. When I offered up that observation to a few people, they countered that I simply saw things as they were, which was obviously pretty desperate. In retrospect, this whole thing sounds completely crazy, from my behavior to other peoples' responses. How could a mental health professional profess to say that living in abject fear, fear so severe that I waited until the sun came up to close my eyes, was normal?

Those days felt pre-apocalyptic. There was no hope and no help. How that city of the late 1970's morphed into the glittery clean center of the universe it is now is almost hard to believe. If one had asked back then what would happen, the prediction would probably be that New York would wind up like Detroit is now. That was the way things were headed, except that it was a city full of possibilities and creativity. Sorry, New York, but Detroit was far scarier.

Now that I think of it, visiting Detroit was a precursor to me losing my phobia. I spent a summer on tour, visiting cities all across this country and Canada, and when I came back, New York seemed a-okay. I never did a thing to help cure my crazy fears. They simply stopped. I lived in an apartment with a security system and one day I just turned it off for I preferred to be able to leave a window open now and again.

What's the lesson in this? None. It's just a story.

Addendum: Seeing that the paper cost 15 cents makes me feel very, very old.

Easy as pie

I have no idea where the expression "easy as pie" comes from. I could google it, but I'd rather speculate. Pie making is not easy, though it isn't as hard as, say, making bread. So, back in the days when everyone made stuff from scratch, saying something was as easy as pie made some sense. Nowadays, it doesn't. It's just become one of those expressions nobody bothers to think about. Now that I think of it, I'm not sure anyone except a few old rural folks even use the expression. I can't recall hearing it any time recently.

But, of course, that is not what I meant to write about, and any of you who know my writing style surely must have suspected that by now. By the way, if you know more about the expression "easy as pie", leave a comment. I am curious and comments are far better than google. I still like the personal touch. I'm kinda old fashioned that way.

So what is it that's "easy as pie"? Believe it or not, it's curing a lifelong aversion or phobia. Yep. That's right! In four to five days, one can desensitize oneself. This is no joke, though it certainly sounds like one. My therapist told me today that in four to five days I can cure myself of something that has bothered me for a lifetime. I said,"so why didn't I read this in Oprah?" He said, "because it's too simple."

Here's the deal: Expose yourself to the thing you have an aversion to. When you begin, write down how much anxiety you have. Don't get into it - just give it a number from 1 to 10. Keep exposing yourself to the anxiety source until the number drops by half. Then stop. Do this every day. Supposedly, in four to five days you'll feel very little anxiety. It may not be gone, but it'll be low. In his words, it'll have become "a little bit boring." I thought that was a humorous way of putting it. He's a funny guy.

What's the catch? There's no catch, except that most people won't do it. I sure can't envision myself starting this regimen. Even if it's only four to five days, just thinking about starting gives me the creeps. Therein lays the rub (and where did that expression come from?)

Sure, it's a grand idea, curing myself of something that's been bothering me for years. He said he's looking forward to finding out how it goes. That's when I made a face. "How it goes? You really think I'm even thinking about actually doing it?" No way! I'm attached to my aversion! That's the other reason this easy-as-pie stuff doesn't get done. Most of us (and that includes me) would rather talk about our aversions for years on end instead of getting rid of them. It's what we're made of. It's part of our personalities. Not so easy to give up, even if it is easy.

Notice I'm not telling you what my aversion is. At this moment, I'm not ready to lay my soul bare even to the small readership I have. No, I'm not that open. I'm tempted, to be sure, for I do know that my little problem is one that is fairly common. Perhaps another time. Maybe I'll tell all after I've actually tried the aversion desensitization and see if it really works so fast.

It really isn't easy. One has to be able to tolerate some discomfort. And that's another thing that no one really wants to do.

I promise a full report. Some day.

Painting note: Grant Wood "Dinner for Threshers" 1934
I googled the words "apple pie" and on the first page of image hits was Grant Wood's "American Gothic." I wondered if any of his paintings actually did have an apple pie in them, noticed how different his works depicting people are from his scenic work, and found this delightful painting (but no pie). Click on his name and check out the extensive online gallery of his work.

Addendum: I was looking at my list of links, which I need to amend, and noticed the "Markov Text Synthesizer." I used to have a lot of fun with this. Go check it out. It's a great way to vent one's feelings, then virtually chop 'em into bits and produce odd bits of prose that make odd sense. Here's what I came up with just now:

"I don't mind yours, but I hate taking off my body."

Not being annoyed (yep, two posts in one night)

Recently, it has been brought to my attention that I don't get annoyed easily and seem to have patience with people who would supposedly annoy anyone. I did mention on this blog that a woman yelled at me a few weeks ago, but it didn't bother me in the least. I thought it was rather funny, to be honest, and had to stifle myself from laughing when she did it.

Don't get me wrong; I certainly can have my feathers ruffled. But, I do have a good amount of patience and odd or irritating behavior generally just seems interesting to me. I'm taken aback, quite frankly, when other people are irritated.

I do think that most people are easily irritated these days by waiting for anything. This was true before the internet age, but it has undoubtedly gotten worse since. A few years ago, I bought a great little scanner that was considered "very slow" by reviewers because it took (and I remember this exactly) 40 seconds to perform a scan. Almost a minute! Oh my, how could anyone stand waiting almost a minute for something to scan?! It's an eternity.

An aside: Please, please, don't let me start sounding like Andy Rooney, okay?

But really, waiting is an opportunity. I mean it. When Dick and I watch some Netflix streaming video and it stalls because of whatever, it's an opportunity for us to have a short conversation. Usually the conversation consists of the following: "Oh, this is ridiculous!" "C'mon, it's only 30 more seconds. See?" "No, something is wrong." "Only ten seconds left!" "I should have rebooted." "Look. It's still ten seconds. Huh." Okay, it's not much of a conversation, but it could be.

I'll admit that I don't like waiting in line. This supposedly patient person who can sit for hours staring at a spot on the floor gets really antsy waiting in line. There's no reason for it. I could read a book. I could read any number of magazines. I could talk to another person in line (and I sometimes do, but often they get annoyed). But usually, I waste time trying to find the shortest line. And when I do, it seems that that line has a problem with it. Something won't scan and needs a manager to key it in. A credit card won't go through. Or, since I do use the self-check-outs if they're available, I wind up behind someone who hasn't a clue how to use them. C'mon lady, how many times are you going to swipe that card before you realize you're putting it in the wrong way?

And another thing, why is it that in 2009 the majority of people doing grocery shopping are still women and that most of the men are only buying large quantities of beer?

The last time I got stuck in line because of a problem was a guy who was buying a case of beer that was beat up. He wanted the cashier to find a bunch of stickers he could put in the bottom so the cans wouldn't fall out of the box. If the store still had paper bags, it wouldn't have been a problem.

Oh, I do sound an awful lot like Andy Rooney.

Stores used to have paper bags. People used to be in less of a rush. Waiting for a movie to start used to be fun.

You get the picture. Age brings on curmudgeonly qualities in most people. Twenty-year-olds are not liable to be curmudgeons, are they? Then again, people did whine about liking the old Facebook better. . .

But, the truth is, I'm not easily annoyed, waiting in lines aside. I see customers who demand attention as people who want some company and people who ask for directions to be explained over and over again as insecure or an interesting challenge. When I notice that I'm annoyed, I ask myself if I really am being put out by whatever is going on. The answer to that is usually "not really." I also go out of my way to not get involved in things and with people who I know will bother me. Setting boundaries way ahead of time has helped me avoid a lot of grief.

Some would say that this is plain ol' avoidance. Maybe if I was agoraphobic I'd agree, but I'm not.

So, next time you get annoyed, try sitting (or standing) back and just watching what's going on. Maybe you'll find it entertaining. Generally speaking, I do, and anyone who knows me can tell you that I'm not a bubbly cheerful person, so if I can have some equanimity, anyone can.

Painting note: Gustav Klimt, "Stiller Weiher im Schloßpark von Kammer" 1899. Yesterday, I read that Klimt liked to wear floor-length indigo-dyed smocks with nothing on underneath. "It feels natural", said he. I wanted to post a Klimt, but have been annoyed with seeing certain of his works way too much. I enjoyed looking at the Wikipedia Commons image entries, for I was reminded of just how good an artist he was. His drawings are particularly good, though (obviously) that is not what I posted here. Since I've been fascinated of late with images of water, I chose this painting for your viewing pleasure. Well, more correctly: my viewing pleasure, eh?

And the survey says. . .

I've always liked to ruminate about what other people like, think, and do. Perhaps it comes from being an only child. My sample group was small, obviously, with just me and my parents, and I also knew that my family wasn't exactly typical. Knowing that neither of my parents believed in God was a major impetus for my rumination, or more exactly, I wondered who this God was that others believed in, and why they believed so fervently.

But this post is not about religion, though I certainly could write about that for hours on end. It's about surveys, polls, and studies. Where once a philosopher might spend a lifetime thinking and writing about humanity, nowadays we have random sample groups to "prove" things. Nothing wrong with that, but I wonder if this keeps us from doing a lot of hard thinking. Have an idea? Just call 100 people and ask them what they think.

I can't help thinking about the ol' Family Feud show. I used to love watching that show, and actually wished I could get my family on it. Not being exactly normal wouldn't have been a hindrance in the least. Being a bunch of people who did a lot of ruminating about things would cinch our win. I was sure of it.

I have nothing against studies (and love reading their results), but sometimes I wonder how accurate their results are. A friend of mine once participated in a study about pain tolerance. He was hooked up to electrodes and zapped until he said "stop!" He told me that it was absurd, for he could say stop any time. Pain is so subjective; how could those conducting the study know if someone was calling it quits way before it got too awful to endure? Even accounting for estimates that any percent of people would, there was no sense to this. My friend actually did wait until the pain was too much until he said stop, but I'd guess that was atypical. On the other hand, I'd imagine that anyone signing up for this study, even with the good pay, was at least veering towards the masochistic.

Here's an example where I don't think anything about this study would be useful except the very concept of the study itself. The pain study makes me think. The results? Knowing that the average person can withstand 4 volts of electricity before they cry uncle means nothing. Wondering why anyone would come up with the study, who might sign up, how people might "cheat" or if some people would wait until they were really suffering, well, those things are way more interesting to me.

Earlier today I was having a discussion with someone about Northern New Englanders' propensity for minimizing their discomfort. Stoicism is considered a virtue up here. Perhaps that comes from living in a cold climate. This women was telling me how her husband had cut an artery in his leg with a chainsaw (by accident), put a tourniquet on it, and drove himself to the emergency room. Then, there was a four-hour long wait, during which he patiently sat there bleeding to death until someone realized that it really was an emergency.

I bet there is a study about regional differences in pain tolerance. I am not going to google it, no matter how much I feel the urge. I want to just think about it. I would bet that people who live in areas where the weather is generally nice do have less of a tolerance for being uncomfortable. It just makes sense. And no, there's nothing wrong with doing a study about it, though I would argue that it's rather a waste of somebody's money.

Well, I have a strong feeling I forgot what it was I intended to write about. I know I started veering off the topic early in this post. Never mind that. My longer entries were always rambling and off-topic, and I've been doing too much to reel myself in for a long time. Writing late, and when tired, is something that I used to do and feel perfectly fine about. Perhaps it's time to let myself ruminate and ramble again. But for now, I'll end this here. I really am tired, and I do wish I'd done this subject more justice. But this is a blog, so I can come back to it any time I want and no one is paying me to write well. That's a good thing, at least tonight.

Photo note: Richard Dawson, the original Family Feud host. He kissed all the women and they seemed to love it. He gave me the creeps but I still watched. And lastly, I think 1970's "fashion" is unbelievably ugly, especially the men's stuff. So, why I'm subjecting you to this image instead of some lovely piece of art is beyond me. But really, what would have been relevant? Survey says. . .you tell me.

No NaNoWriMo this year (for me)

I just removed my 2009 NaNoWriMo badge from the sidebar. This makes it official; I'm not committing to it this year. Participating is only going to be a set-up for failure for I haven't enough days in the upcoming month to write 50,000 words (unless I start taking speed or something).

Ah well. I remember how fun it was last year. It was almost ecstatic. I'd put up a sign saying "No talking to me. I'm writing" so Dick wouldn't unwittingly interrupt my furious stream-of-consciousness. I wrote two to four hours a day and finished those 50,000 words in 21 days. This month I don't even have 21 days to write. Now, if it was last year, I imagine I'd take it on anyway, for last year I was stoked.

I don't want to waste my time on empty promises to myself, so that's that. If there's a real novel in me, I don't need NaNoWriMo to make it happen. Sure, the virtual writer's community helped, but I presume I can find support in other ways if I deign to try again before November of 2010.

I wish NaNoWriMo was in a month other than November. It's a busy month, what with Thanksgiving and the other upcoming holidays. February would be a great month to hunker down to write a novel, especially for us folks up here in northern New England. NewEngFebNoWriMo might be something for me to look forward to. . .

Painting note: Gabriel Metsu - Man Writing a Letter 1662-65
As a thumbnail, I thought this was a woman. No matter. Look how different this reproduction is: