Yesterday I walked out of my apartment building to find that the large group of obnoxious Baptists were preaching via megaphone at the Liberty Pole again. They have every right to do it, but that doesn’t protect them from the fact that they’re assholes. I really do wonder how they can stand up there and say the awful things that they say without receiving some “freedom of speech” from the inner-city thugs that hang out there all day. I didn’t have to stare agape for very long before a large woman shoved a Chick Tract into my hand. ”Ma’am, I think you dropped this,” I said while pursuing her, which she ignored entirely while continuing her distribution. Turn the other cheek, indeed; God forbid we enter into a conversation about Him.
So I’ve been thinking about the nature of faith and religion, God and eternity. I am not a lost soul, confused and trying to find myself. I know what I believe, and it’s astoundingly simple. My conversations with genuinely devout individuals - a very disparate group from the brimstone Baptists - have lead me to conclude that the beliefs of most individuals are nearly the same to my own in any way that matters. I, however, don’t believe in God. In fact, I don’t even care if he exists or not, it’s just not important, it’s not something that matters in the real world. The afterlife is beyond my scope of reason, and another unimportant semantic masturbatory target that has no bearing on how anyone ought to live their lives. I’ve come to see what religion is at its core, and in that I am a believer. I am not spiritual; I have no soul. I am not atheistic; I don’t know anything about God. I am not Agnostic; I do care. What I believe in is not a label.
At the center of Religion is an attempt at reconciling good and evil. At the center of faith is an attempt to convince believers that evil is a challenge or a part of the divine plan, and that good is normal. Many lose faith or are affirmed in their own haughty beliefs when they find that evil is the natural state of human behavior. This is a false premise, because there is no such thing as good and evil. There is no distinction. There is no continuum or benchmarks as to what constitutes a good person and an evil person. Religions attempt to make these distinctions by describing good and evil behaviors as a set of laws or rules. “Behaving in these manners makes you a good person, and deviating from them is sin, and causes you to be evil.” Furthermore is the abhorrent concept of original sin, wherein humanity cannot help but to be evil by virtue of being alive and breathing; wherein our birth marks the point at which we will be most virtuous and that anything we do in our lives are points against us. It is beyond my understanding how people can accept a life of guilt and penance for crimes they can not help but commit against a law decided arbitrarily.
The establishment of a spiritual law is an attempt at defining morality, which is not possible. Morality is governed exclusively by intent. If you perform an action with the intent of hurting someone, yourself included, your action will reflect the morals that you hold. An action performed with the intent of benefiting someone, again including yourself, similarly reflects your moral stance. Conforming your actions to follow a law blindly indicates a moral vacuum; regardless of outcome, benefit or hurt caused, the action was not taken with any intent but to follow. It is not evil, it is amoral. Morals can not be learned, as they are a reflection of intent. Intent is formed as a response to social forces. Where religion attempts to teach morals, what is really needed is to teach society. A successfully religious, spiritual or otherwise balanced person is as such because they were taught or learned to live in society, to realize that other people have thoughts, feelings and intentions just like the self has. What are generally regarded as evil actions are typically selfish actions that are beneficial only in the first person and hurt others. An individual who has not discovered society is most likely to think and act in this way. This gives the appearance that evil actions are easier to perform than good ones; in reality, it is that self-serving actions are more apparent to the individual, while social consequences need to be learned.
An action can come in three ways: one that benefits only yourself, one that benefits only others, and one that is mutually beneficial - listed in order of difficulty. Each type of action necessitates more mindfulness of intent than the last. Someone who acts only to benefit themselves is inexperienced, probably an infant or a socially stunted individual, liable to be ostracized. Someone who acts only to benefit other people while hurting their self is misguided and is probably following law blindly only to be unfulfilled and impotent. Someone who acts to benefit their self and others equally is fulfilling their social imperative - the benefit of others is implicit in what benefits you and vice versa. Intent is the core of morality, and even though the action may not be readily or obviously good, and might incidentally go terribly wrong, hell, at least you tried.
Any icing on top of that conclusion is all semantics. There is no need to complicate religion. Belief is unnecessary, explanations of the mysteries of the universe are a waste of time. Wasting more time by tailoring your behavior for rewards in the afterlife is committing to a life without satisfaction or fulfillment building up to a great uncertainty. Existence is a gift that can be revoked by anyone at any time, and I still struggle to understand why people squander the opportunity becoming tangled in semantics, arbitrary laws and all of the enormous hurdles in the way of true understanding. If that Chick Tract had changed my life, what would that say about the strength of my will and judgement? If I had been lured to the Baptist Church by the threat of eternal damnation, what would that say about how I value my life? I am fulfilled and enriched by the experiences of my life, why would I want to believe that everything I love subtracts value from my existence? Why would I replace pride with guilt? I can not understand these things.
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Tags: god, religion, baptists, morality, musing, existence
Tuesday Afternoon BLT
But my tomatoes had gone so bad. Cute little cherry tomatoes, with cute little green mold colonies all over. So I had to make due without them.
Actually, my credit card was maxed for the past week and a half so I’ve been scraping around trying to find things to eat, slowly diminishing my pantry reserves. As of this moment, my refrigerator is all condiments and orange juice. The last of the cheese is gone. There is no lemonade. My credit is back, I just need to go grocery shopping. Yesterday I had bacon, lettuce, swiss cheese, cheddar cheese and a fresh loaf of sourdough bread from the Little Bakery. Time to get creative, with the BLC - an honest sandwich, an American original.
It all starts with the bacon. Do you think I eat too much bacon?
I cooked this in the oven for about 13 minutes at 425ºF, in an uncovered anodized dutch oven. Pro tip: I saved the fat that rendered out and fried a chicken breast in it for dinner last night.
You can’t have a sandwich without bread. I don’t believe in low-carb shenanigans like lettuce wraps. Sourdough is delicious, so I used that. You can use what you like, unless it’s Wonder bread. I’ll fuck you up.
Cover both breads with a thin layer of good old mayonnaise. I actually did use lite mayo, because it tastes the same and I’m fat enough as it is. Oh yeah, and put some bacon on there.
I’m making a sandwich. You can’t possibly need these directions.
This is “cosmopolitan lettuce,” which is a “new lettuce.” Surprise of the century: it looks and tastes like lettuce.
Once the top bread hits the lettuce you have five seconds to eat it. Your tongue and stomach will join forces and eat your brain in mutiny if you wait any longer than that. As such, the picture is blurry.
I also happened to make enough bacon for two sandwiches. I had two sandwiches. Don’t tell anyone.
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Tags: sandwich, bacon, blt
Overheard in Rochester
A conversation about bicycles:
Guy 1: “I haven’t settled on whether I want to get 26-inch or 700C wheels yet, though.”
Guy 2: “Well everyone will agree that the bigger your wheels are the smoother your ride will be. You know what those guys riding around on little BMX bikes remind me of?”
Guy 3: “Dorks?”
* * *
So I went down to Corning to see Boston and Styx in concert last night with Brian. I never thought that I would get to see either of them live - hell, I never thought they’d be touring again - but I have, and let me tell you, they’re still awesome.
Styx was very well-dressed and lively. They set up with a keyboard on a lazy Susan and Gowan was just on fire. Come Sail Away was a religious experience for a lot of people, I think.
I started a lighter movement during that song. I got it out and a VERY enthusiastic middle-aged man screamed into the crowd for everyone to follow suit. He was almost in tears. I was, too, because my cheap-ass lighter exploded and burned my thumb. They played Renegade as an encore and a gigantic woman seated in the VIP section erupted out of her chair and and convulsed violently, not unlike she was suffering an upper-body seizure. Even her husband stood up and left to disassociate himself.
Boston is what I came for, though, and they didn’t disappoint at all. They set up with a wall of blinking lights and a gong. They never did use the gong but damned if I don’t respect that. They opened with a song from Corporate America, surprisingly, and played nearly all of their debut album. They still rock, and I can’t believe that they will ever stop. There’s not a lot to say but that they were amazing.
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Tags: Boston, concert, explosion, lighter, Styx
Freuding the Coffee Shop
Which do you think is worse: a guy sitting alone, facing the wall, or the guy next to him writing about it on his blog? But I digress - the real reason I’m writing is to share with you the Phrase of the Day.
PHRASE OF THE DAY!
Butter Continents. Melt a pat of butter in a sauté pan, you’ll see what I’m talking about.
On a more substantiative note, today and Sunday, there is an air acrobatics show at ROC, with military pilots doing ridiculously dangerous things in billion-dollar jet aircraft for shits and giggles. When I first heard about it, the event struck me in a way similar to how monster truck shows do; it sounded like jangling keys to entertain suburban John Q. Public with shiny technology and fire, and on one level that is exactly what it is. And then, earlier today while eating a sandwich in my apartment, an F-someteen roared above my building and described a loop over downtown.
If a motorcyclist is having a good day just by screaming down the city avenues with the wind in his face and the streets left in a blurry wake, then those pilots must be having the times of their lives. I would gladly give years of my life to military service and training for the chance to make supersonic fly-overs of our cities, weaving between the skyscrapers and seeing the arterial sprawl of transportation networks and eras of development like the rings of a tree, first hand, not from satellite photographs or maps or hearsay. What an amazing experience it must be. I have a real respect for the air show, not because I enjoy watching it, but that the people that do enable a life-changing experience for the pilots running it. Seeing the plane over midtown is enough for me, to take a minute to live vicariously. To get some perspective of people in war-torn parts of the world, terrorized by the same machines that could vaporize the buildings around me in an instant if so equipped. I am not above being dazzled by technology - I think it’s great how technology expands human experience, for better or worse, to give perspective and wonder and delight and fear, for better or worse, to our lives.
Neat-o.
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Tags: air show, butter continents, perspective, phrase of the day, technology
Tuesday is Panini Day
Last night at around 9PM I took an intense night ride down East avenue, and ended up at Wegmans. After recovering and catching my breath, I went in and put together a killer checkout combination:
- Fresh Italian Pane loaf
- Lite Mayonnaise
- Hair Dye
- Pack of Gum
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Tags: cheese, panini, sandwich, tomato
Weekend Stir-Fry
Yesterday evening I set out to make good and prodigious use of my stockpile of vegetables before they started going bad on me. Delicious, theatrical stir-fries have been a tradition of mine and I haven’t made one in a while, since I’ve been cooking for myself almost exclusively as of late. So here’s the mis en place:
That’s a bowl of mushrooms, a scallion, a lime, vidalia onion, three cloves of garlic, oyster sauce, sriracha chile sauce and - not shown - bell peppers, fresh basil, dried basil, soy sauce and mirin.
Shrimp which I clearly caught and prepared myself, and my first order of business is to soften them up a little:
I like to run frozen seafood under a trickle of cold water; it’s no slower than microwaving, there is no danger of cooking them, there is no odor released, and it’s sanitary best that I can tell.
The peppers are first onto the chopping block. These are locally-grown heirloom bell peppers from the Public Market; not quite red, not quite green, some are brown, but they’re all tasty.
I’ve shown you how this goes. There they are.
A handful of Crimini mushrooms, sliced into cross-sections.
Joining the party. A lot of my friends don’t like mushrooms. I secretly hate them all.
Half of that big-ass onion, roughly chopped. Some of my friends don’t like onions, too. I’m going to burn their houses down.
And they, too, join the party. Brace yourself for this next one.
Streaky Gold.
Zested lime with an accidental frown.
Bacon chopped up into bits,
ready to meet its maker, on medium heat.
Love me.
Render all the fat out of the bacon and rescue it to the safety of a prep bowl. Put the spurs to the burner and let it get super hot, then deliver the veggies. Stir them while they fry up in the bacon grease. This is a stir-fry.
Get your flavorful herbs and cloves ready, and find them beautiful. Put a couple shots of soy and mirin into the wok to season.
Throw the lovelies in and stir it up.
Send in the shrimp and cooked bacon, keep up the good work until the shrimp turns pink. Put in a couple tablespoons of oyster sauce and a hearty shot of chile sauce, and mix it up good.
Love me.
Serve it on a bed of rice. I was out of the organic basmati, so I went with medium-grain… something. It’s white.
Dinner time.
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Tags: stir-fry, shrimp, sriracha, moire, cooking, wok
Laundry Day
Doing laundry is the least pleasant thing that I do on a regular basis. I generally don’t do things that I strongly dislike, but laundry is unavoidable. I hate carrying the load all over the building, I hate spending money on the machines, I hate finding machines that work, I hate the sauna that is the laundry room, I hate the uncomfortable interactions with other residents, I hate kicking around in the most uncomfortable and unflattering clothes I own, I hate folding.
There is a saving grace to laundry day, however, and that is the Wardrobe Color Index. I love seeing the lint in each machine’s lint trap, displaying the average color of all the clothes the person that used the machine last wears. It really speaks enormous volumes about people; I have to wonder about the person who used the dryer before me, and their baby blue average, or anyone whose average is hot pink.
For reference, mine is Pantone 5467. I think it suits me.
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Tags: laundry, pantone
Locked Out
I had been planning on going to the bike shop’s customer appreciation day, sit in on some seminars and maybe pick up sorely-needed panniers or cargo baskets at discount. So, after coming home from the public market and taking a while to decompress, I changed and went out to the sidewalk only to realize that I had left my wallet, keys and everything else in my other pants.
My apartment building has an airlock with card-swipe at both doors, and the apartment entries all lock behind you when you leave.
I panicked for a second and went into the vestibule, and thankfully someone was coming through and I was able to sneak in like a diamond thief. Of course, being a Saturday, the office was closed and my only hope was the pager number listed in word-art posted in the window of the office. So, I called that a few times and tried to figure out how to leave a message, then waited over an hour.
By chance I went back to the office and read the paper again to find that I had put the number into my phone with two digits transposed. The wrong number was still a pager to something, though, and I had been calling it repeatedly. I called the right number and Rick came by to unlock my door for me. I guess sitting in the hallway talking on my cell phone was too much excitement for me to handle, because by the time I was in and the bike shop was closed, I made dinner and hit the sack for half an hour. Finding my station to be tragic for a Saturday, I took a ride around the neighborhood and stopped at Java’s for a cappuccino and read for a couple of hours. Now I have the energy I wanted six hours ago.
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Tags: the mundane occurrences of my life
Without the Burden of Dignity
the great modern cities
whither and die
in a spectacular blaze of technology
the elderly kept alive
with chemical miracles
the ends unbearable to see
a welcome overstayed
leaving emptiness and remorse
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Cool and Sunny
Not a groundbreaking day in my life, but the weather was spectacular. I’m trying to keep a regular sleep schedule now, and woke up at 9AM to an apartment much colder than the air pocket contained in my blanket cocoon. I wrestled myself out of bed and moldered in front of okcupid for a little while, then headed out for a wholesome breakfast at Java’s:
And it was lovely:
After which I rode down to Highland Park to check out the blues and barbecue festival. It didn’t tickle me, so I came home for lunch; some Annie’s, tomato and black pepper over light rail construction in Sim City.
I rounded off the daylight hours with Atlas Shrugged at the park, and then a nice ride around Brighton and back home for the daily show and this journal entry. Pardon my breaking the fourth wall, I’m not feeling so literary tonight!
Pleasant.
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Tags: Java's, park, highland, genesee, annie's, nat sherman, atlas shrugged, ayn rand
