Overthinking Things

How do you decide what to share online?

I am constantly self-conscious about whether to link to things I've read online. As a result, I actually share very little of it, even though it often shapes and explains my thinking on a variety of subjects.

I don't want to be famous, or a taste maker. It might be disappointing, but I have found myself much happier wrapped up in my own little worlds, taking in whatever the world is gracious enough to broadcast without cost. I read. Quite a bit. But I haven't really found it effective or useful to interact a whole lot with the sovereign people of the world. Instead, they are teaching me how to be satisfied in my own autonomy.

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I told a friend of mine a few months ago, my puzzle-mantra: 'people are limits'. My right to swing my arms ends at your nose, so maximizing liberty entails increasing social distance. He flipped the concept, as one does with any idea of positive and negative liberty. People are //opportunities//, in this view. One has the freedom TO interact and explore with another person, as they exist.

I'm still trying to appreciate this idea. It feels like a brick wall I keep butting up against.

I have gone as far as I'm going to go into solitude. I now have a better outline of just what I want and need from human beings, of the puzzle of just what they are for. They are for them. They are for stimulating your own mirror neurons. They are for touching, and holding, and being held, and for the smell of relating. But I find my needs for you are much less than I used to think. I don't believe my id as much anymore. I feel more secure for it, and more free to blaze trails to novel places in my brain, and in my lifeways, means, and styles.

I will not, however, be going over the cliff. Someday, everyone does, and I have come to appreciate the peace and promise of oblivion. But today is not that day.

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Returning to the subject of sharing what I read, I'm always self-conscious of becoming little more than a news relay, flooding my output channels with so much content (some of which they may have already seen) that people tune it out. As a result, I succumb to a false slippery-slope argument (You know, the slippery slope that says private health insurance mandates and mild rescission bans are SOCIALISM!!), and I end up sharing terribly little. I don't know what my criteria are.

I also need a new way to organize all this crap.

I have more things I want to do with Facehook's API.

The thing about Facebook that overwhelms every objection is but this: Everybody uses it. I can scream about rent-seeking, despotic, greedy corporations all I want, but the problem is really all of my Facehook friends, who either can't or won't use anything that is more respectful of privacy or autonomy. Sorry guys, but you're the asshole. Of course, everyone else can just pass the buck endlessly in circles through the bulk of their own network, and nothing ever gets better.

Now that I have StreamFeed pretty stable (though not, alas, 'finished', as you might expect), I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit that I still have not actually been using it myself. The problem is that, although it's nice to get my data out, every time I want to contribute a comment //in//, I end up going to the website, so I might as well just go there in the first place.

I've started to look for an open Facebook frontend, one that yanks down and stores everything through the API. I know there are desktop apps that do this - even some that aggregate info from multiple social networking sites - but they're closed profit plays that don't run on Ubuntu. There's not much point to using a proprietary desktop app to overcome the limitations of a closed web site. You have to trust unaccountable for-profit rent-seekers. Screw that.

So what I need to really get my experience away from Facebook while still connecting through it, is to master the rest of the API in my own application. If I could fire off comments immediately from the RSS feed list, there would rarely be a reason to go to the website itself. But as I think about it, this would necessitate a personal database mirror of all the Facebook data I can access through the API, updated in something close to real time. In attempting to solve a use case, the problem just keeps getting bigger.

(Hm. instead of RSS2Email, would Facebook > Google Wave work well?)

And here, I pause, and I wonder exactly what I'm doing. I'm succumbing to the temptation to build ANOTHER app for a closed platform. I'm adding value to a privacy-invading rent-seeker I despise, //in the name of overcoming the obstacles it created deliberately//.

I'm coming down with Stockholm Syndrome. Fuck you, Facebook. Fuck you.

Better to regret the things you've done than the things others did to you.

I've been meaning to mention that I've been watching Starcraft II video commentaries for awhile now.

It's like watching sports, which is the closest thing to watching TV I've done in a while. Startlingly, this does not startle me. Do I begin, now, to justify my own passivity by saying, "well, hey, everybody watches TV"?

Granted, The game itself is only in a limited beta, and, being an Ubuntu user, I don't meet the system requirements anyway.

The videocasts are so much more interesting than anything I'd end up playing on my own, that I'll probably just stick with that after release anyway, even when cracked copies do appear.

"I haven't made myself clear" is the polite way to say, "you are an idiot."

1.5 cups chick peas
1 avocado
1/2 onion
1/2 cup nutritional yeast
1/2 cup sour cream (optional)
2 tbsp seasoning salt
1 potato

Soak chick peas in a 3-cup container filled with water in the fridge overnight.

Bake potato at ~350 degrees for one hour.

After about forty minutes, boil a sauce pan full of water, and add chick peas. Cream the avocado, mix in sour cream, seasoning salt, and nutritional yeast. Dice and add onion. Mix well. When chick peas and potato are cooked to taste, drain, add, and mix them as well.

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Now that I have a scale, I've been keeping a closer eye on my weight. It seems I've been losing about a pound a day since the beginning of the month. I do expect this to get harder, but if the scale can make me more mindful of diet and exercise, losing weight might be easier than I thought. Maybe a healthy walk daily is all I really need.

I'm still surprised at how broadly my weight seems to range, though.

I'm envisioning dropping staying at 200lbs from 240lbs, mostly with a vegetarian diet. Something tells me keeping weight off is a more valuable skill than dropping it, so I'm not as concerned about how fast it goes as I am about holding my progress.

More data is required...

The iPad makes me sad in ways that other closed, hobbled systems don't. I will relent and admit that, yes, the Jesus Phone had just as much hubbub when it was released, and was just as castrated as a platform. But seeing people line up for handcuffs just makes me feel that people are stupid in general.

No, closedness does not make your platform more secure or stable; diligence and effort on the part of developers does. The field is littered with victors and defeats on both sides of the licensing fence. The license isn't about the engineering, it's about the social model. If your goal is maximizing utility, you do it open, and nobody cares about profit. If your goal is maximizing profit, you do it closed, and utility can go fuck itself if it can't be adequately monetized. Market failure: That's all there is to it.

Open, permissive licensing is for people who actually want to get things done with software - even (and especially) things they haven't thought of yet. Proprietary licensing is for rent-seeking psychopaths.

The iPad isn't a computer; it's Interactive Television.

It's getting more official everyday. I have scored.

That's the charm that just happened to come with the housekey. Fitting, both for the find, and the fact that I just attended an Alice in Wonderland theme party not long ago.

Mmmm, stainless steel double-basin sink.

Electric fireplace! How hokey is that?

The hot tub goes between the stools and the coat closet. The washer & dryer are stacked just outside the door.

Right behind the house is "Peacock Hill Park", which consists of the rocky, windswept top of a hill. This is where Tolmie Ave dead-ends right before it meets Cook street. The multitude of moss-covered crags make for a lot of secluded spaces, and offer some nice views of the city. Now I know somewhere peaceable to go out of doors.

The standard BC tenancy agreements are signed, which fills me with some relief and confidence. I haven't actually met the landlord yet (He's a busy plumbing contractor running all over the place), but I've spoken to him on the phone a few times. The fact that he at least uses official tenancy-act-compliant contracts makes me feel a bit less nervous. I've started meeting my neighbors, as well.

The place looks pretty new (I'm guessing it was finished in 2003), and in good shape. I'm really happy with it. I have a whole month to move, which will be nice.

Now, to pack. I have the unenviable task of trying to separate which things are mine, which are my roommate's, and which things (especially kitchen stuff) are my OLD roommate's. C'est le fun!

This morning, I decided not to let frustration prompt me to give up on finding the perfect home.

This afternoon, I have one!

Granted, it wasn't as dramatic as all that, but it was certainly a nice affirmation on the part of the universe.

The new place is near Cook and Finlayson. It's not downtown, but it's easily within walking distance of plenty of shopping. It's a one-room bachelor refurbed from a garage, a bit on the smallish side, but with enough room for all my stuff (and I think I can squeeze in that hot tub in the future!). The place looks pretty new; the full bathroom and all the appliances are spotless. There's a shared laundry. They'll take the cat. There is separate Internet.

Victory! My new year's resolution is fulfilled. I can now take the rest of the year off! ;p

When considering the frustration I'm feeling at the househunt, I confronted the task of knowing when to quit, or at least, when to lower your standards. It is possible I'm asking for more than I can expect from this rental market. There are opportunity costs, I said to myself.

But after some thought, it's not really that costly. I'm just spending a little time following a few classified news feeds, and walking around town meeting landlords and looking at places. The point is how I feel about it. I could attempt to discover how to prevent myself from feeling frustrated, but the fact is that the feeling itself doesn't really cost much either. The feeling isn't taking over my life (goodness knows the rest of my life is pretty magnificent now), I just have to realize that I don't need to change my goals because of the frustration. Tactics, perhaps, but I'm always evaluating those regardless of how I feel.

There's something to be said for the contrast of good and bad things being interdependent. Like a video game that tempts you to grind away at meaningless make work (much like a job) for the simple feeling of victory, recognition, and acknowledgement that doesn't even extend outside of the game's scenario into the rest of your life, the sacrifice we make in pursuit of something lends its achievement some reward from our brains all by itself. Its the prevalent malaise in the world that lends it kindnesses extra sweetness, and its our knowledge of our potential goodness that makes our failings so shameful.

This is not, however, to say that it's my frustration that is now driving the desirability of finding the perfect place. My criteria were chosen before any of this work started, and they haven't really changed. When I find it, my satisfaction with such a home should last long after the thrill of overcoming the long odds.

I don't think I'm doing anything wrong - in fact, the fact that the hunt is demanding my very best in terms of patience and diligence is a sign that I'm doing what I should be in order to get EXACTLY what I want. I have established that places that satisfy my criteria DO exist in this town. The difficulty has been in qualifying with competitive tenants for them. Nothing to do there, but keep doing what I'm doing. It doesn't cost much. So, onward!

Magic is just science waiting to be done.

If you want to know how useless astrology is, do what I do: read last week's horoscopes.

Writing in my private journal magnifies my world. Blogging shrinks it. Much more thought goes into slicing down what might be relevant to readers, rather than the author.

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I already found perfect places, at least twice before. They didn't want me. After finding them without much effort, I am inclined to keep looking. The question is now one of whether I am worthy of it. Each place I'd be more than happy to live is also coveted by other candidates. I have my act together - references, advance cash payments, etc., although I'm not Canadian, which disqualified me at least once.

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I'm flying and happy, now, but I am still worried about my emotional slump of this winter. What am I going to do when it comes back? Who am I going to ask for help?

Oh, yes. My momentum into solitude has definitely abated. I'm still in my hole, but I have quit digging. I don't know how my next relationships will work, but I definitely don't like the spoon-fed protocols of the societies of our nearest generations.

No matter where my heart lives, I will always have my own room.

I went to see an excellent basement suite last night. I haven't had my application selected yet (the owner is checking references), but it's a tough decision to make.

The place itself is great. 1 bedroom, plenty of space (the hot tub will definitely fit in the kitchen), fresh paint, the ceilings are just high enough, spotless bathroom and appliances, shared laundry, and I can take Smoke. There's lots of open green space nearby, bus access, and a corner store. The landlord is sharp, reasonable, friendly, and knows the law. It's right at the top of my budget, but it's worth it.

The only problem seems to be the location. It's one bus route straight downtown, just like where I am now, but it's twice as far from downtown as I am now, which makes walking as much as I'm used to difficult. Bus fares add up over time, too, and I'm known to have a lot of time, so I'm fond of just beating feet instead of waiting for a bus.

The worst part is that there just aren't any grocery stores within walking distance. It really is suburbia. I'm used to going to Save-On every 2-3 days just to fetch a backpack full of groceries, instead of a trunk or a suitcase full once a week. It's good exercise, and gets me out of the house in ways my work doesn't, since I work from home.

Maybe I should just take up a bicycle. There aren't any hills like there are here in Esquimalt, and it would extend my range a bit. And, it's much better exercise.

Some of the air has been let out of my weekend. But considering the weekend I'm referring to was 8-9 days ago, that's not bad. Life is still great - especially when you're me, living my life. I shape my life, and then my life shapes me. Action, stimulation, elation, inspiration, action. Lather, rinse, repeat. I'm such a lucky bastard. I have become acutely aware that THIS is the the life I will be missing for the rest of it, so I better live it now.

I can't seem to rely on anyone to touch or smell, but that will always be true.

I am seeing more places to live. The pace seems to be picking up, but there haven't been any winners just yet. I have two appointments tomorrow alone.

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I see some health insurance reform legislation finally got synched and passed the House and Senate. I'm still trying to figure out what's in it. It appears to be largely what the Senate passed last fall, which means no public option, just a rescission ban and public subsidies piled onto a personal mandate. It seems no one can do anything in Congress for public welfare without turning it into corporate welfare in the bargain. Begging from Capital is simply what we're reduced to in their nation.

One of the most perplexing questions that has always surrounded the struggle over this legislation is whether it's worse than nothing. Some argue that previous versions should be scrapped because, if passed, too many people would be so satisfied with it that they'd stop pushing so much for what they really want. On the other hand, there are those who'd respond that NOT passing SOMETHING would demoralize reformers even more, kneecapping their ongoing efforts to a greater degree. I think I'm leaning to the latter argument. So, good start. Now keep going.

I still don't know how it will affect me personally, however. I'm going to have to figure out how much subsidization I'd qualify for. If I'll end up buying health insurance anything like how I buy auto insurance (the cheapest, bare-bones policy that satisfies the law - I don't trust for-profit insurance companies, fundamentally), then I would imagine that a lot of new kinds of policies will appear to cater to relatively healthy but low-income cases like me, grubbing and clamoring for those government bailouts-qua-health insurance subsidies.

We'll see.

"Acknowledging the power of love doesn't make me less of a rationalist -- it makes me more of one. " --Bill Maher

An interesting thing happens when your Internet friends move to other hemispheres: Nothing much changes!

Nutritional yeast makes me fart.

I spy, with my mind's eye, a balance, carved of wood.

I have found a balance point between solitude and gregarity, and now, I mean to go and put my life there. The god of Darwin has requirements, but he is less demanding than I used to think. The left hand of evolution need not know what the right brain is doing, after all, and is more than willing to entertain trading in interesting substitutes, so long as they have unique qualities of their own. After years of practice, the habit of being in the hunt for a mate is breaking, and that is at once relieving and liberating.

Still, we are not so advanced in our technique that mere stage magicians can credibly lay claim to solipsist godhood. I need my village to ground and hold me, literally, and tenderly, to be happy. Though I may not be able to say with certainty that this winter's emotional slump was caused by "touch deprivation", as Edie put it, there's no doubt in my mind that it is exactly what pulled me out of it for those few days that followed, on two occasions. It's also exactly what I'm still flying on a week after last weekend.

So I am seeking out, now, more than just my signature lift-and-spin hugs, but to give out shoulder, neck, and back rubs on a regular, periodic basis. Somehow, that contact activates my body, brain, and blood in deep ways that I haven't fully appreciated. I'm strictly an amateur, at the moment (though I have references!), but I'd entertain studying massage or Reiki as I go. So feel free to ask for a rubbing if you like; it's good for me just to give that out. It's like you're massaging my hands with your back. It's what I need.

I have found this as one doorway to giving. And it's giving and supporting others that is one thing the genes demand. Empathic altruism isn't an instrumental value insofar as it concerns our decisions. The mere existence of empathic altruism tendencies was enough to accrue adaptive benefits in the ancestral environment. Whatever it was that empathy produced for us wasn't something we understood and became empathically altruistic for. The chain of instrumental teleological justification left our own conscious minds to be joined to the reciprocity of others in an entirely contingent and circumstantial fashion. These weren't social contracts by any means; they were just statistically safe bets. And we weren't required to recognize them consciously at all for them to operate in our favor - at least in the ancestral environment.

THAT is why it often does not matter to us whether we get as good as we give, why charity is often its own reward, and why love keeps no accounting of wrongs.

That's why I have instincts to love and give, that don't feel reinforced by acts of reciprocity they evolved to evoke in the first place. Yes, empathic altruism evokes reciprocity. But that isn't something we need to concern ourselves with. Just give and love, as and how you can, and that alone can satisfy.

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I know what I want, now. My present is now beginning to extend into the futures, into plans and small ambitions. I want my own place, where my imagination can escape the impositions of society a little more than they can now. My own personal balance is not over the cliff of losing myself in myself, but it's fulcrum is certainly further toward solitude that average.

I will live in Victoria. I've been absorbed by the people here, however slowly. I am STILL meeting more new people in Vancouver than I am here. Even this weekend, I think I met as many new people there as I went to see in the first place. But I am sure the same thing will happen here on the island, given as many years of living here. There's an S curve in effect: lonely social drudgery takes years to pay off, but eventually the momentum of meeting, getting to know and trust people, and having them introduce you to even more people pays of with a skyrocketing of contacts, until your ability to keep up with them saturates and levels off. It's been 4 years; I must be close on the lip.

The beauty and the slower pace of Victoria suits me, I am told. The City is never far away, when I want it. And this town isn't exactly the boondocks.

I have a life I mean to live, and the strength and spirit to live it. I know what I want.