um....

... it was possible to glean certain patterns, and one that recurred... was the one about how someone would move into a commune populated by sandal-wearing, peace-sign flashing flower children, and eventually discover that, underneath this facade, the guys who ran it were actually control freaks...

... and that, as living in a commune, where much lip service was paid to ideals of peace, love and harmony, had deprived them of normal, socially approved outlets for their control-freakdom, it tended to come out in other, invariably more sinister, ways.

in the beginning there was the command line

make a killing, save the world
non-profit: predators of conscience

timeframe: just before christmas
event: job? what job?

i remember writing about that wonderful non-profit job that i had taken; the one that made me feel all warm and fuzzy... made me feel all purposeful n'shit... lol

no longer.

i am once again, a bystander in the hit-and-run world of corporations and money politics. someone kicked me out of the backseat of the 16-wheel holy roller express.

scenario: friday, leaving the apartment

[on the phone]
me: hi, i'm going to have to be a little late. urgent school business.
her [boss]: oh, don't bother coming in. we've decided to let you go and re-assess the position.
me: [thinking, "hm... wtf?"] don't be so hasty to send me off. i still have to come in to the office to take any personal belongings and give you back your keys.
her [sensing her own inept management skills]: uh, ok.
me [silently shaking my head]: ...
i'll be in after i'm done at the school.
her: uh, ok.

and for the next fifteen minutes, my body tensed and shook as if i were preparing to tear someone's throat out, as i breathed deeply and visualized the strangeness of walking into the office for the last time. finally i chuckled when i found a positive angle to the situation; grabbed my keys, bookbag and jacket, and left to catch the train.

nothing particularly dramatic happened at the office; it turns out that i was being let go because they needed someone who could work more hours. ironically, i was being laid off because i needed time for school, when i was depending on this job to put me through for next semester. translation: no job, no school. no school meant that i would have enough free time to work. but if i was working, i would have the money for school, which gives me the same dilemma that they were citing as the reason for firing me. argh... when i arrived at the office, i deleted all files pertinent to my duties at work, but nothing sensitive or injurious to the organization. no no... really, i mean that.

after obtaining a signed, written guarantee that i would be paid my last paycheck [i've been screwed out of cash before, so i took no chances this time], i amicably shook hands with all three employees and walked out with nothing on my mind. the gay PR/media relations guy seemed genuinely sad that i was leaving, so i told him that we could talk about "contract work" in the future. even though i'm not gay, i can't resist... something in me definitely has a thing for gay men, kind of like a kid looking in a department store window at the expensive teddy bear that he'll never own. lol...

detachment is a strange thing, sometimes. as i left the office, i felt unburdened and released from one more care, one more aimless worry. as i spun the situation in my mind, i realized that having been "let go" was definitely not something to regret.

why?

i had misplaced my ideals, embodying them in a wish, believing that projecting that wish onto an imperfect reality would bridge the inadequacies before my eyes. the non-profit organization was a way to escape the soul-gouging man-as-skillset mentality of the corporate world. what i found instead was a mirror image of what i had left behind, but with a frightening addition: the moral imperative.

:: doing the world a favor

as i stepped into the office for the first time, i remember sensing a change in the air. i found that everyone seemed to enjoy their work. soon i felt it too, strong enough to get past the fact that i was using about 2% brain capacity as an admin assistant. eventually, though, it became apparent that their love for what they were doing could be summarized by two concepts:

::: a. the party line

the organization was heavily into bible-thumping and holy-rolling -- their official literature was full of gimmicky god-isms. not only was it a marketing ploy to tug at peoples' heartstrings, but it was an internal morale booster for the overwhelmingly christian organization itself. i was assured that the organization was growing out of its religious limitations, but i remained skeptical. in this case, my quarrel was not with religion itself, but the fact that this organization had considerable power in the form of donations from celebrities and the guilty rich [and other contributors]. "god's will" is inherently beyond man to understand, and yet these people were using god as an excuse to enforce their will on the rest of the world using donations. there is thin line between evangelism and fundamentalism. it seems to me that an organization dedicated to universal welfare needs not be motivated by a particular religious agenda.

::: b. emotional investment

with this kind of pious undertone, it is practically inevitable that there will be deep emotional commitment made to "the cause". the disturbing aspect of such commitment was the near-absolute connection made between the goals of the individual and the goals of the organization. this fallacy of composition inevitably translates to groupthink; in the workplace, such voluntary adherence to the so-called higher purpose inevitably raised questions about who exactly was making the decisions. for all the grassroots exterior, this was a hierarchical, well-ordered entity, fueled by the will of god. who could possibly question such methods without casting themselves as an outsider, one of "them" rather than one of "us"? i found that reason is not welcome in the face of an illusory absolute truth, or rather, the righteousness of absolute power. this sense of unassailable morality is immediately undermined, however, by the fact that the words "non-profit" mean relatively little in any practical sense.

:: making money like anyone else -- it just happens to be donations

non-profit organizations, despite the association with altruism and service to others, arise more due to tax considerations than for any other reason. the main distinction of a non-profit is whether or not the organization gains tax-exempt status, a question that is only tangentially related to whether they work for the good of mankind. non-profit organizations are, in all other respects, practically identical to for-profit corporations. just because the corporation itself is not deriving profit doesn't mean that the officers and staff aren't walking away with fat salaries. and why shouldn't they? after all, they do god's work -- should be duly compensated. uh... riiiight.

:: society does not benefit from crusaders; it can only benefit from changing itself

in retrospect, it seems that the entire focus of the non-profit world is misdirected. the world cannot be "saved"; it can only change itself, evolving from within its own collective consciousness. the only way that society can change is if its constituents act in their own self-interest in order to create positive change, either through destruction of the current system, or reform of its existing institutions. there is no way to externalize the needs of society; society is its own problem, and therefore society must find its own solutions. the only role for an outside organization is to function as a catalyst for pre-existing elements of change within the society.

::: giving as confession

by contrast, the model under which non-profits often operate is that of taking money and repurposing it to fit the actions that follow their internally-determined agenda. this is the "confessional gift" concept, in which a person working for an oil company can donate a few dollars to buy a cow for a cute, starving boy in somalia. this, to me, is ridiculous; if the person actually wanted to be an agent of change, he would quit his job at the oil company and take up work elsewhere, in a socially responsible field. giving money to charity is little more than a method of assuaging one's own guilt. it reminds me of a man who sees a priest, and having confessed his sins, goes out and sins again with a clear conscience. he always knows that he can confess and be absolved later, so why not profit now? this is the same moral sinkhole that non-profit organizations encourage by allowing people to measure their social uprightness by a dollar value, rather than the value of acting in a socially conscious way.

::: for us, by who?

this habit of buying indulgences for sins against society, in a perverse way, naturally lends itself to the trend of giving to non-profit organizations. the concept of externalizing all possible costs is one of the main goals of a corporation; it is only natural that in this world dominated by corporations, Morality Inc. would be the next step. so you make a living exploiting the world? no problem! just send us a check, and all your worries disappear.

what a strange world this is.

audio: GU nubreed . sander kleinenberg . jp . onix1

my body does not taste like plastic

so much to learn, so little time.

over the holiday, i've bought a few books [five, to be exact]; all of them used, of course. it is nearly unimaginable that in high school, i suffered a near-allergic aversion to reading for quite some time. interesting, though, that i woke up to the fact that most of my friendships were weak and based on meaningless "qualities" that revolved around fistfights and class divisions. unfortunately, as artificial as these criteria were, they were as much upheld by my peers as by myself.

[ click here to revist the past as a brawling rude boy... lest i forget about the kid with cracked knuckles ]


... and so that meant a choice: accept my role in the game and play the stereotype, or keep only a few of my old friends and feel pleasantly surprised upon meeting new ones.

blah blah blah, i've written about this before; it's really just a segway to something new ;)

more recently, i've often been playfully accused of pretension by friends: i remember that in a conversation during a long subway ride, we were tossing around the idea of romance. he had just been through a traumatic breakup wherein his girlfriend had infiltrated his circle of friends and proceeded to sabotage his relationships with everyone else by talking about how abusive and downright mean he was. he of course, professed innocence, and i, not having a stake in the matter either way, gave him the benefit of the doubt. the topic gradually telescoped outward to the larger matter of romantic attachment in general.

i argued that romance is an illusion, an easy back door into the confused world of emotional manipulation and perceptual distortion. at best, romance seems to be a game best played in the first few months of a relationship. it is during this period when both man and woman [or any other combination of genders, for that matter] consensually dance through the uncertainties of becoming intimate partners. romance can make the process a little less excruciating.

the crucial aspect of my argument, however, lay in criticism of that same illusion: romance is not real, in the sense that regardless of how well he imitates romeo [or lothario, for that matter], the man eventually tires of the game and wishes to be himself again. or, he continues to play the game, is too "nice", and the woman looks elsewhere for the challenge and excitement of a new dancing partner.

at this point, my friend interjected that romance is beautiful and sensual and that it was his own immaturity that lead to his failed relationship, coupled with the sociopathic tendencies of his ex-S.O... although he one of his majors in school was philosophy, he consciously worships beauty and is willing to throw logic out the window in pursuit of it. with a character of quicksilver and a very sharp mind, we match well as mental sparring partners when we manage to find time for each other. at the point that he, a little buzzed off some cheap wine, could stand no more of my relentless deconstruction of his idealistic standpoint, he proceeded to scathingly attack my character. he asked me if i thought my time was too 'valuable' to fall in love, and accused me of narcissism when i answered that for the moment the answer was a tentative 'yes'. to that i issued a gleeful agreement as the train pulled in to the stop, knocking me a little off balance as i surfed the bumps and grinds and halting accelerations of the nearly empty subway car.

hell yeah, man, i fuckin love myself!

we both laughed, and left the subway to exchange its disaffected audience for the brightly lit city night that awaited us.

audio: ltj bukem . horizons

psyche and salem

so i spent new year's eve wandering around salem, being a tourist; gawking at the shops and generally taking in the small town vibe... very homey. having driven out to salem with a couple of friends, i felt strangely uncommunicative throughout the course of the three-day trip. it's slightly disconcerting to feel perfectly fine, but have nothing particularly cheery to say. there was so much to visually digest over those three days, i was thinking more with my eyes than my mouth. it's quite a change in context to come from the city to the rolling country hills and tree-lined highway landscapes.

salem is such an enigmatic place, no doubt owing some of its allure to its unique history. i was looking forward to a day of re-acquaintance with wicca and the events that transpired during the witchcraft trials of 1692, and that's just what i got. we visited the salem witch museum, which, amusingly enough, is an old church that had been converted to its current purpose. my friends, staunch catholics, seemed to have a little trouble fitting the fact that witches aren't symbols of judeo-christian evil into their cultural outlook. whatever, at least it shook up their perceptions, if only a little bit. they even took to jokingly calling me a "witch", due to my obvious curiosity and fondness for the rede. i felt more at home during the afternoon at salem than i've felt anywhere in a long time.

as we were preparing to leave, the overcast day descended upon us in the form of a thick mist, giving the place a quiet, serene bearing. the atmosphere was heavy and the chill blanketed my bones in a way that was calming and briskly awakening. i hope to go back some time. the connection i felt to that place was the highlight of the new year's trip.

over the rest of the trip, my unintentional silence continued, even during the new year's party at the house of my friend's older brother. there were seven of us, all drinking but me. i sipped half a glass of champagne, toasting the new year but otherwise staying sober, since i don't drink and didn't plan to start. it felt good to be in jovial company, and it was great fun to see my friends let themselves relax and have a good time.

upon returning to the apartment after a long drive in the rain, i felt relaxed but a bit troubled. upon reflection, my lack of ostensible happiness during the trip may have been a way of showing that something actually was amiss.

over the past semester, trying to live up to expectations of an academic culture that i've never felt a part of, trying to measure up to my own desire to be recognized for knowledge that i now realize is less important that the process of learning itself... combined with realizing that some of my friends point me in less-than-"productive" directions, i have alot of diverse, but ultimately conflicting influences at work in my life. trying to negotiate all of these forces in my mind is difficult, and it may have left me vulnerable to overextending myself. both intellect and emotions were run raw over the past few months, as i was perpetually fighting stress and cursed with the constant sense of being squeezed from the inside. the fundamental constructive aspects of my own self, my own ways of maintaining continuity and growth over time, don't mesh with the lifestyle that has evolved out of the psyche-consuming obligations that have come to crowd and in some ways replace them.

so i'm back where i was at the beginning of the semester. but i have realized that i need to protect myself from forgetting my own perception of who and where i am, no matter how confused or marginal my position in mainstream society may be. to adapt is to survive, and i'm not quite ready to stop just yet. for me, survival is a question of waking up to express yourself fully with every day, and to go to sleep knowing that you've gone a bit deeper, a bit farther, a bit closer to the dream you woke up with. just scraping by well enough to put food on the table isn't an adequate motivation to continue with so painful a life. there must be a counterbalance of inspiration to maintain motivation.

fuck it... new year's is every single day. to feel refreshed and fearless. i'm still not quite sure where hope fits in, though. now that i think of it, i don't even know how to define the word, in any meaningful way, that is.

maybe i can find it in a dream. *yawn*

nite.

audio: telepopmusik . love can damage your health