So, here are my resolutions:
1) Continue not drinking for the whole year! This is a no-brainer. Think of the money I'll save!
2) Write at least 500 words, 5 days a week. I feel like this will be the first resolution to fall, but since I succeeded at nanowrimo this year, it's worth a shot.
3) Hit the gym 3-5 days a week except for scheduled recovery breaks (and be active at those times, too). By December 2012 (when the world ends, I guess) I hope to be a fitter version of me.
4) Eat out or order in only once a month. Again, fitter version of me. If I simply MUST be classified as obese on the standard BMI thingy, then let it be because I am a bodybuilder, not a heart-attack waiting to happen. Seriously. By my calculations, I've ordered food in about 50-60 times in 2011, and who knows how often I ate out. Not cool.
Not specifically a resolution, but I would like to continue being interested and engaged with the world, and to increase my involvement with social justice issues a little bit more. We live in interesting times, after all.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Oh, Canada.
This is just not a good news week for me, at least insofar as my feelings about my country's governance is concerned. But then again, I probably should have expected it after the Conservatives won a majority in the last federal election. In brief:
- The Long Gun registry: is being cut, despite every single reliable voice saying that it reduces crimes and helps law enforcement. What's worse is the government is also destroying all of the information gained during its run, ruining any other governmental body's chances of setting up their own registry. One of the things I hate the most about our current leadership is its dogged devotion to ideology in spite of actual data and facts.
- Canada's dropped out of Kyoto. Which, I mean, we were failing at it anyway, but again: global warming is real, Canada is a major contributor, and we're all gonna be screwed if we don't smarten up. The justification is jobs and the economy, but really? Really? Ugh. Reality doesn't care about our personal values, and so long as we keep this up, things are gonna get pretty shitty.
- Face-coverings are now banned during the oath-taking ceremony, ostensibly to prevent terrorists from sneaking into our country during the final, mostly-for-show moments of a lengthy and complex immigration process by putting on a burqa and swearing allegiance to the Queen, possibly disposing of a perfectly legal Muslim woman in the broom closet after he's stolen her clothes. I mean, the issues surrounding face coverings are complex, and definitely need to be addressed, but this change isn't about defeating sexism, it's about making it clear that "Canada is for (our kind of) Canadians only! Act like (a certain portion of) us or go back where you came from!"
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Bottles
So, in addition to Nanowrimo and getting my butt back into the gym, the other big thing in my life is that I've quit drinking.
I've always been a heavy drinker. I've been told that I have alcoholism in my family history, though both of my parents are responsible drinkers (my dad barely drinks at all, because he gets blinding headaches if he has more than one beer or glass of wine), and I grew up in Nova Scotia, which is a known bastion of the late-night party, and I've got a few other traits here and there that put me squarely in the right demographic to abuse alcohol and potentially other substances.
I quit drinking once before, in my twenties, for just shy of a year, before starting up again. For a while I moderated my drinking, and I don't think I've ever gotten as bad as I was in my early twenties, but realistically, I've been drinking unhealthy amounts of alcohol for years, and sooner or later it will be a factor in my physical health.
Addiction is a very strange thing. Nothing else demonstrates to me just how "biological" the mind actually is. I can write that I'm a heavy drinker, but there's a huge part of me that believes that I wasn't really that much of a drinker at all. Even though I'm off the charts for consumption of alcohol - every source, every table or graph, every questionnaire says that I drink much, much more than average - I still feel like it isn't really that much. If I have to think of it in terms of data and numbers, I tell myself that I'm an outlier. I mean, I'm 6' and 260lbs, so that means I can drink more with less effect, so who cares if I'm way, way beyond the weekly recommended limit after one night? That's just metabolism!
I've lied to my doctor about the amount I drink. I've lied to family, and to strangers. Not huge lies, and my drinking hasn't gotten to the point where other people feel the need to question me about my habits, but still, why the lies?
If I could somehow arrange to live my entire life being plastered or getting plastered and everything else took care of itself, I would seriously consider it. Drinking isn't for being social, or for savouring or for whatever else people use booze for, it's for getting drunk. One drink? What's the point? Right?
But the fact is that alcohol has already hurt my life. When I think about the money alone...I mean, how many thousands of dollars have I spent on booze? The answer: a lot. How many brain cells? My family is long-lived, and I could, theoretically, live until my 90s or 100s, but what if I have a stroke when I'm 50? That's a lot of time to spend, possibly needing care because of something that was preventable. How many relationships have I damaged because I said something stupid, or skipped an important appointment because I was hungover? The costs are too high.
Originally, the plan was to stop drinking for 3 months, but the longer I'm sober, the more I realize that this needs to be a more permanent thing. I have countless experiences to show that I can't trust myself to stop at one beer. I've been sober now for 2 months and 3 days, and some days are easy, some are difficult, but if I'm going to feel like I've achieved something in my life, I've got to do this.
I've always been a heavy drinker. I've been told that I have alcoholism in my family history, though both of my parents are responsible drinkers (my dad barely drinks at all, because he gets blinding headaches if he has more than one beer or glass of wine), and I grew up in Nova Scotia, which is a known bastion of the late-night party, and I've got a few other traits here and there that put me squarely in the right demographic to abuse alcohol and potentially other substances.
I quit drinking once before, in my twenties, for just shy of a year, before starting up again. For a while I moderated my drinking, and I don't think I've ever gotten as bad as I was in my early twenties, but realistically, I've been drinking unhealthy amounts of alcohol for years, and sooner or later it will be a factor in my physical health.
Addiction is a very strange thing. Nothing else demonstrates to me just how "biological" the mind actually is. I can write that I'm a heavy drinker, but there's a huge part of me that believes that I wasn't really that much of a drinker at all. Even though I'm off the charts for consumption of alcohol - every source, every table or graph, every questionnaire says that I drink much, much more than average - I still feel like it isn't really that much. If I have to think of it in terms of data and numbers, I tell myself that I'm an outlier. I mean, I'm 6' and 260lbs, so that means I can drink more with less effect, so who cares if I'm way, way beyond the weekly recommended limit after one night? That's just metabolism!
I've lied to my doctor about the amount I drink. I've lied to family, and to strangers. Not huge lies, and my drinking hasn't gotten to the point where other people feel the need to question me about my habits, but still, why the lies?
If I could somehow arrange to live my entire life being plastered or getting plastered and everything else took care of itself, I would seriously consider it. Drinking isn't for being social, or for savouring or for whatever else people use booze for, it's for getting drunk. One drink? What's the point? Right?
But the fact is that alcohol has already hurt my life. When I think about the money alone...I mean, how many thousands of dollars have I spent on booze? The answer: a lot. How many brain cells? My family is long-lived, and I could, theoretically, live until my 90s or 100s, but what if I have a stroke when I'm 50? That's a lot of time to spend, possibly needing care because of something that was preventable. How many relationships have I damaged because I said something stupid, or skipped an important appointment because I was hungover? The costs are too high.
Originally, the plan was to stop drinking for 3 months, but the longer I'm sober, the more I realize that this needs to be a more permanent thing. I have countless experiences to show that I can't trust myself to stop at one beer. I've been sober now for 2 months and 3 days, and some days are easy, some are difficult, but if I'm going to feel like I've achieved something in my life, I've got to do this.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Brain parasites! Neat!
So, in cool news, a brain parasite in mammals can affect dopamine production, which, depending on when and where, has some serious consequences for behaviour. We're not at "eat all humans" level yet, but more evidence that the zombie apocalypse may not be quite out of the question....
System Justification Theory
Okay, so I'm currently stalled around 10,000 words on my nanowrimo project, and in the meantime I'm battling some personal demons of which I may or may not discuss later (how personal do I want to be on this blog? Good question.) but while you're waiting for me to post again, check out Crommunist's series on System Justification Theory, which I would say is one of the 10 most important things you should read on the internet this week, after you've caught up on TV and Entertainment news.
It's got me thinking about some conversations I've had over this past summer, and re-examining my own current prejudices and how they might be reinforcing my own thinking about power and politics. Hmmm.....
Anyway, go on, read it! (the link is to the last part, but all the parts are linked in the opening paragraph).
It's got me thinking about some conversations I've had over this past summer, and re-examining my own current prejudices and how they might be reinforcing my own thinking about power and politics. Hmmm.....
Anyway, go on, read it! (the link is to the last part, but all the parts are linked in the opening paragraph).
Friday, October 28, 2011
Absenteeism
Once again this year, I will be participating in Nanowrimo, which partially explains my current absence and will explain my absence during the month of November as I and a billion other people attempt to write 50,000 words of fiction in 30 days. If I am here writing words, that can only be taking away words from my finished project.
I'll probably get one or two posts in next month, but expect them to be hurried and mildly insane.
I'll probably get one or two posts in next month, but expect them to be hurried and mildly insane.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
#Occupy
I planned to write my review on the season 2 opener of Walking Dead (short version: liked it, especially the first 30 minutes, have some reservations about implicit sexism in the show, but we'll see), but today I'm going to write about some conversations regarding the #Occupy movement.
First, though, check out Lousy Canuck's post which is a nice summation and has plenty of handy links for some background. I especially like the graphs (which he knicked from Mother Jones) showing how basically 80% of us are all in the same boat. See how those lines just sort of flatten out and listlessly lie there on the bottom? That's us. Lousy Canuck also quibbles a teensy bit about the 90% to 99% and how they actually have it pretty good and should expect that this fight will directly benefit them. I agree, except to say that I believe this battle will indirectly benefit them - I think that the wealth that can be generated by having a population that is fed, sheltered, educated, and healthy is not insignificant...I mean, we're pretty much at a stage in human history with few limits on energy and wealth (aside from some issues about distribution, and our tendancy to ignore what's best for us and continue using fossil fuels and helping global warming get worse...). How many Einsteins are never going to be discovered because they live day-to-day with no food and less money?
For me, the most powerful thing about the #Occupy movement is the 99% meme. Yesterday, coming home on the subway, I watched the people around me and contemplated on how we are all together on this. We all share a lot of the same struggles, we all just want to live our lives without worrying about the roof over our head, with full bellies, with work that we find fulfulling. It's powerful to realize that we are all together in this.
That said, I've had a couple of convesations with friends about the #Occupy movement here in Toronto. They're interested in it, they know that things are getting worse for us, but they are really reluctant to join in the protests. One of them says that if his face appears on camera, he could lose his job. Another has similar concerns, that if people find out what she is doing she could be fired, and the risk to her and her family is too great.
With both of them, I found myself getting angry. Part of it is that these are the people that need to be out there. One of the weakest aspects of modern activism is that it's easy to dismiss as "the usual suspects". No one listens to the poor, the homeless, the "extreme leftists". This movement needs the faces of the people who work, the people who have mortgages and kids and lines of credit. It's frustrating to me that they feel frightened and stuck, that they can see that the bills get higher, the pay stays low, the interest doesn't get paid, but they fear that if they do something, they could lose everything. It's the prisonner's dilemma, but when there are other people depending on you, most often you need to take what seems to be the safest choice, even when you know that with the safest choice, you still lose.
What's worse is that I know there's a critical mass. If enough of these people, the ones in the middle, came out, there would be change. Big change. The reason why they feel so much pressure, why they're stuck feeling afraid, is because they have real, serious power. Not individually. Individually we all have squat. But if these two friends, and a few more, all came out, the halls of power would tremble. And if my friends came out, maybe that would inspire some of their friends to come out, too. It's like standing in the middle of a pile of kindling, your friend has a match, and complains that it's too cold, but they're afraid to light the pile. Frustrating.
I think another part of my anger or frustration comes from the fact that these people can afford to be silent, and some people can't. It happens in every social movement that it's the outsiders that have to do the heavy lifting. In the gay rights movement, it was the trans and the drag queens and the women and the really, really faggy sort while the middle class, white male gays living in the closet because they could ended up getting the benefit. And today, where a guy like me can live my life relatively free of homophobia, those same people, the trans and queens and fags and women still have the same old shit.
And now, it's the poor who are fighting for everybody. These people have nothing to lose, yeah, but that means that they have nothing. And we're watching and hoping that maybe change happens, but we're afraid to lift a finger to help it. We let Them do the hard work, because we are scared shitless that we could one day become one of Them. This is the underside of humanity, our worst nature that we don't like to admit. We're all in the same boat, but as soon as we have any kind of comfort, we forget about all of those who don't have it. We worry, we agonize, we say things like "I wish I could go, but...." and in the end everything gets a little harder for everyone. The house we're worried about losing isn't worth quite so much, the future for our children isn't quite so bright, the air isn't quite so clean...but we hold on to what we do have instead of risking it on the hope that maybe working together we can all make things better. For a social species, sometimes we aren't so bright.
I have to back off, though, because I don't have kids. I don't have a mortgage. I've been (briefly) homeless, and I know that the world is pretty much chaotic enough that losing everything isn't a disaster. And if I can help to make things a little bit equal, I know it's worth the risk. But if I ever had to look into my son or daughter's eyes and tell them they can't go to college because I lost my job...that would be tough. I can understand why people are scared to act, and while it makes me angry, I can't force them to do it.
But I make sure to tell them that there are other ways to help. They can make donations, they can write letters, they can go and wear a mask, they can convince a friend or two to go in their place, they can make sure they vote, they can spend their money more wisely. We need to do these things, at least, because we've got the poor doing all the hard work fighting for us, the 99%, and we really ought to support them somehow. It's only decent.
First, though, check out Lousy Canuck's post which is a nice summation and has plenty of handy links for some background. I especially like the graphs (which he knicked from Mother Jones) showing how basically 80% of us are all in the same boat. See how those lines just sort of flatten out and listlessly lie there on the bottom? That's us. Lousy Canuck also quibbles a teensy bit about the 90% to 99% and how they actually have it pretty good and should expect that this fight will directly benefit them. I agree, except to say that I believe this battle will indirectly benefit them - I think that the wealth that can be generated by having a population that is fed, sheltered, educated, and healthy is not insignificant...I mean, we're pretty much at a stage in human history with few limits on energy and wealth (aside from some issues about distribution, and our tendancy to ignore what's best for us and continue using fossil fuels and helping global warming get worse...). How many Einsteins are never going to be discovered because they live day-to-day with no food and less money?
For me, the most powerful thing about the #Occupy movement is the 99% meme. Yesterday, coming home on the subway, I watched the people around me and contemplated on how we are all together on this. We all share a lot of the same struggles, we all just want to live our lives without worrying about the roof over our head, with full bellies, with work that we find fulfulling. It's powerful to realize that we are all together in this.
That said, I've had a couple of convesations with friends about the #Occupy movement here in Toronto. They're interested in it, they know that things are getting worse for us, but they are really reluctant to join in the protests. One of them says that if his face appears on camera, he could lose his job. Another has similar concerns, that if people find out what she is doing she could be fired, and the risk to her and her family is too great.
With both of them, I found myself getting angry. Part of it is that these are the people that need to be out there. One of the weakest aspects of modern activism is that it's easy to dismiss as "the usual suspects". No one listens to the poor, the homeless, the "extreme leftists". This movement needs the faces of the people who work, the people who have mortgages and kids and lines of credit. It's frustrating to me that they feel frightened and stuck, that they can see that the bills get higher, the pay stays low, the interest doesn't get paid, but they fear that if they do something, they could lose everything. It's the prisonner's dilemma, but when there are other people depending on you, most often you need to take what seems to be the safest choice, even when you know that with the safest choice, you still lose.
What's worse is that I know there's a critical mass. If enough of these people, the ones in the middle, came out, there would be change. Big change. The reason why they feel so much pressure, why they're stuck feeling afraid, is because they have real, serious power. Not individually. Individually we all have squat. But if these two friends, and a few more, all came out, the halls of power would tremble. And if my friends came out, maybe that would inspire some of their friends to come out, too. It's like standing in the middle of a pile of kindling, your friend has a match, and complains that it's too cold, but they're afraid to light the pile. Frustrating.
I think another part of my anger or frustration comes from the fact that these people can afford to be silent, and some people can't. It happens in every social movement that it's the outsiders that have to do the heavy lifting. In the gay rights movement, it was the trans and the drag queens and the women and the really, really faggy sort while the middle class, white male gays living in the closet because they could ended up getting the benefit. And today, where a guy like me can live my life relatively free of homophobia, those same people, the trans and queens and fags and women still have the same old shit.
And now, it's the poor who are fighting for everybody. These people have nothing to lose, yeah, but that means that they have nothing. And we're watching and hoping that maybe change happens, but we're afraid to lift a finger to help it. We let Them do the hard work, because we are scared shitless that we could one day become one of Them. This is the underside of humanity, our worst nature that we don't like to admit. We're all in the same boat, but as soon as we have any kind of comfort, we forget about all of those who don't have it. We worry, we agonize, we say things like "I wish I could go, but...." and in the end everything gets a little harder for everyone. The house we're worried about losing isn't worth quite so much, the future for our children isn't quite so bright, the air isn't quite so clean...but we hold on to what we do have instead of risking it on the hope that maybe working together we can all make things better. For a social species, sometimes we aren't so bright.
I have to back off, though, because I don't have kids. I don't have a mortgage. I've been (briefly) homeless, and I know that the world is pretty much chaotic enough that losing everything isn't a disaster. And if I can help to make things a little bit equal, I know it's worth the risk. But if I ever had to look into my son or daughter's eyes and tell them they can't go to college because I lost my job...that would be tough. I can understand why people are scared to act, and while it makes me angry, I can't force them to do it.
But I make sure to tell them that there are other ways to help. They can make donations, they can write letters, they can go and wear a mask, they can convince a friend or two to go in their place, they can make sure they vote, they can spend their money more wisely. We need to do these things, at least, because we've got the poor doing all the hard work fighting for us, the 99%, and we really ought to support them somehow. It's only decent.
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