Existential Angst

Gobble Gobble Toil And Trouble: A Wooly Thanksgiving

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wild-turkey
“Thanksgiving dinners take eighteen hours to prepare.  They are consumed in
twelve minutes.  Half-times take twelve minutes.  This is not coincidence.”
-Erma Bombeck

Thanksgiving: A time to give thanks for all good things in your life. To be honest, I do have many good things to reflect on in my life and to say thanks for. I’m glad that as an adult I can appreciate the sentiment of Thanksgiving in its proper context; a moment to be grateful for what you have. Over the years, however, the holiday has stood for different things, some of which I can only say ‘thank you very little’ for.

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The OK Factor

Jay Leonard Schwartz Defying Expectations , , , , , ,
“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of other’s opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”
– Steve Jobs
Back in 1967, the year SMiLE was supposed to have been released, Thomas Harris (MD!) published his eventual best-selling ‘self-help’ book, I’m Ok, You’re Ok. This post is not about this book.
However, because the book’s title has passed into pop culture and the public’s obsession with ‘self-help’ ideology, I thought I’d reference it. Just as with Sigmund Freud’s works, Harris’ book, at the very least, does lay out some interesting ideas and terminology for others to build on. On the other hand, ‘Dr.’ Harris also endorsed electro-shock therapy as a treatment for some conditions, so I would approach his writings with a long ‘grounded’ pole.

The Wooly Hallows: A Freudian Halloween

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Razor in the Apple - Jay L. Schwartz

‘Tis now the very witching time of night, when churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out contagion to this world.
– William Shakespeare

No holiday conjures up as much existential angst and parental-control conflict in kids as Halloween does. Really. It’s no wonder many kids have issues with authority and role confusion.

In the days running up to the holiday, most kids dream of toting home the sugar-encrusted spoils from a night of “trick or treating”. On the morning before the hallowed eve, some kids are also trying to figure out how they can smuggle into their bedrooms the stuff they know their parents will most likely confiscate.

Then there are the safety talks …

  • “DON’T eat anything until I can check it!”
  • “DON’T cross the street!”
  • “DONT go into anyone’s house. STAY on the porch!”
  • “DON’T talk to strangers!”
  • “HOLD your baby brother’s hand!”

… and the requisite stern lectures about kooks putting razors in apples and rat poison in popcorn balls.

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Relieving Yourself In The Face Of Solemnity

Jay Leonard Schwartz Defying Expectations , , , , , , , ,
Lay down all thought
Surrender to the void
It is shining
It is shining
– John Lennon (Tomorrow Never Knows)

 

 

I used to believe that each day I knew all there ever was to know. The next day, I would learn a few more things and marvel at how stupid I was the day before. That’s the way it is with life. Each day brings new possibilities, new hopes, new dreams and, of course, fresh concerns. Balancing the ‘yings’ and ‘yangs’ of our existence can leave us dumbfounded as we existentially grope around in our subconscious for our minds to hang our ‘sense of being’ and self-worth on.

For many, juggling the psychic apparatus of their various cognitive and psychological states is serious business, and good business for many institutions come circus barkers. It’s really something to meditate on. Nevertheless, I’ve never been much of a meditator.

In fact, I’m much too full of myself for the practice and balk at any idealistic isms that preach self-nullification. Perhaps it’s a defense mechanism, but for many years, I felt as if I was my own best friend. Alone with my thoughts which I could never really share, I’d entertain myself and find ways to make myself smile. I never heard voices in my head, though I would occasionally talk to myself.

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Whose Shoes Are These? (An Introspective Question)

Jay Leonard Schwartz Defying Expectations , , , , , ,

“You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
in any direction you choose.
You’re on your own.
And you know what you know.
You are the guy who’ll decide where to go.”
– Dr. Seuss

 

Hang on for a second …

An easy question to ask concerns how often you find yourself having to justify yourself to others. A harder question, and one I might suggest may be much more important, is how often you find ‘others’ having to justify themselves to you?

I just want to say …

Do everyday conversations you have with others feel like losing battles ‘you must’ win? Does social banter take on the sensation that it’s taking place with a fast-taking salesman on a used car lot? When speaking with others, are you simultaneously carrying on a conversation with that ‘inner voice’ talking in your head? Indeed, it often feels like there are so many questions and so little time. And, by the time you are ready to make your point, the conversation has already ended.
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Contrarian Pseudo Babble: A Play With No Parts

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PROLOGUE:

[An encounter outside the Katywonkered Cafe’]

ACT I

THE PHILOSOPHER:
Before setting off on a voyage, the pagans gather for a feast. The mind vomits forth … and none are saved.

THE PRACTICAL ONE:
So, where are we off to?

THE CYNIC:
Lord only knows. No where fast from what I can see.

THE PRACTICAL ONE:
Well, that’s a great attitude to have. Don’t you have a plan?

THE CYNIC:
What do you think I sit around plotting my every step?

THE PRACTICAL ONE:
Planning. You mean planning your every step.

THE CYNIC:
Six of one, half a dozen of the other. Who cares! Let’s just get on with it, then.

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Lie To Me! Fabrications, Fables, Fairy Tales And Fibs

Jay Leonard Schwartz Defying Expectations, Dialogues, Occupy Karma , , , , , , , , ,
“He gives speeches, but they put him back in bed where he wrote his satire.”
– Brian Wilson, (He Gives Speeches)

 

I think it was in kindergarten when I remember being told the story of little George “I cannot tell a lie” Washington and the cherry tree he confessed to his father he had chopped down. Through this vignette, my classmates and I were admonished to always tell the truth. The only problem was that often told tale … is a lie, a fabricated fable of fibbing fiction. It was actually created by biographer, Mason Locke Weems, as an anecdote laudable to Washington’s character and as an “exemplary to his countrymen”. Nevertheless, this fractured fairy tale is almost as hallowed as the national anthem.

When I was 2 years old, the US Congress passed the ‘Gulf of Tonkin Resolution’ granting President Johnson the wanton power to take military action as he saw fit in Southeast Asia, ostensibly to combat the spread of communist aggression. The passage of the resolution, enabling Johnson to launch America full-tilt into the Vietnam war, was predicated on a fabricated set of events suggesting that American naval vessels had come under unprovoked attack by the North Vietnamese.

When I first heard the above tale, I remember being skeptical. I’m not sure why my ‘bullshit detector’ went off that day. Perhaps it was the result of a burgeoning character flaw or a latent psychic ability to perceive the teacher’s own insincerity in her own overly dramatic rendition of the fable. Some might say that my lack of gullibility at that tender age speaks volumes of my character or my perception of ethics. And, indeed early on I began to question my moral constitution. In retrospect, I was ‘loony’ to do so.

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Better A Living Dog Than A Dead Lion

Jay Leonard Schwartz Defying Expectations, Dialogues , , , , , , , , , ,
Acting is the expression of a neurotic impulse.
It’s a bum’s life.
Quitting acting, that’s the sign of maturity.
– Marlon Brando

 

 

 

Preface:
The following is not a conversation. It is an introspective monologue with accompanying commentary, perhaps spoken by a chorus, a collective I’ll call ‘Rael’. If you can figure out who the ‘Id’ is, you’ll understand at least half the story.

They say that discretion is the better part of valor. They also say that “the discretion of a man deferreth his anger; and it is his glory to pass over a transgression (Proverbs 19:11). Actually, they say a lot of things, but these days, I try hard not to listen anymore, and in the end, I’m glad that I have forgotten probably more than I ever knew.

Id:
Once upon a time there was me. Some years later I was taken away from whom I was in order to live a life I did not choose, or want.

Rael:
Choice is an illusion. Your path was chosen for you long before you were even born. In fact, it’s in your blood to be who you are supposed to be. As far as ‘wants’ are concerned, you need not want for anything, for wants will be your downfall.

Id:
In fact, it was less a life, and more an existence. I say ‘existence’ in that I was existing, but it really wasn’t a life, at least not the one I had previously imagined for myself.

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A Mess of Ideas Defying Expectations

Jay Leonard Schwartz Defying Expectations , , , , , , ,
Hung velvet overtaken me
Dim chandelier awaken me
To a song dissolved in the dawn
The music hall a costly bow
The music all is lost for now
To a muted trumpeter swan
Columnated ruins domino
– Surf’s Up (Brian Wilson & Van Dyke Parks)I have an idea, but it begs the following questions:

  • Why is it easier to make a mess of some things than to just sort them out in the first place?
  • Why is it harder to achieve greatness than mediocrity?
  • Why is it easier to say ‘no’ than ‘yes’?
  • Why is it easier to go nowhere and do nothing than to set out on an adventure?
  • Why do so many adventures we set out on come up short?
  • Why do things implode with less intensity than they explode?

These are the types of questions equally raised by the hopeful and the hopeless; the dreamers and the depressed. They are part and parcel of the same enigmatic shaded overtones of our existence, and fail to answer what we are supposed to do with it.

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My Morning Constitutional

Jay Leonard Schwartz Uncategorized , , , ,

On more than many a morning, I wake to find the silence deafening. I sigh, acknowledging the cliche. All the while, the tension mounts just beyond my window, resonating off people, buildings, technology and wheeled transport – works in progress all. Yes, there are delights unseen awaiting, broiling us in microwaves of undulating currents, modulating the air we choke on.I’ve yet to rise, but I’m already on my way. My eye stings, my nose runs, my breath already soured from stale sleep. A short while later, the comfort of breakfast soothes and then bloats.

I am hurried to venture nothing with nothing to gain but the unholy pursuit itself that drives me to distraction. It’s a sacred ritual for some; it’s death to me. The loss of precious moments, youth, exuberance and creativity.

I think that I am, but perhaps I’m not. Eager to purge this allergen, I scratch, but the irritation persists. There is no ointment for this inflammation. No creams. Not even a poultice or a vapor rub.

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