A Bowl of Stupid

Nota Bene: I struggled with publicly posting this long and somewhat contemplative entry because I don't wish to convey to my friends, family, and/or other readers that I'm in any way depressed, because I'm not. To the contrary, I am settling in here in Bangkok quite nicely. However, I wrote this back in India to pass the time whilst confined to my hotel bed in the final throes of the Dengue Fever. I wasn't feeling quite as 'upbeat' then (although I was, ironically, listening to the same U2 song as in my last post). So I'm posting it, confident others will understand, as I do, that context is everything.

I honestly don't know where to begin, or where I'm going with, this post. I really don't. I'm still a bit fevered still, so I guess I'll just have to talk (or write) it through.

With so much time on my hands lately (see post re: Dengue Fever), after sifting through too many books and movies to even recall, I find myself now at a point where I can do nothing more than lay in bed, listen to my music, and think. It reminds me of how I used to pass the time when I was in high school.

Now, most of my thoughts rifle through memories of the people I've met, the places I've seen, and the things I've done throughout my adult life. For some reason, most of my thoughts begin by centralizing around old friends and past girlfriends.

I use them as 'indicators', since I immediately relate certain friends and girlfriends with different chapters of my life — my formative years, high school, college, law school, working in California, living and working in Miami, and — most recently — my travels abroad.

And then I get distracted, lost even, in recollections about the smaller subplots during those times that gave each of these larger chapters their own particular context and flavour — the different jobs, cities, friends, lovers, hobbies, movies, and music.

When I was younger, this 'meditative recollection" used to be a truly enjoyable exercise. It gave me the opportunity to recall some remarkable things I had otherwise forgotten. However, as I've grown older, it's become more and more difficult to keep track of the ever increasing number of chapters — with more and more characters and subplots lost to time. The difficultly lies not only in the loss of time, but in the accompanying melancholy that comes with the realization I can no longer fully recall people and things which at one time meant so much.

It is for this reason that, while I do not condone, I understand those people who, despite not properly 'fitting' with their friends, spouses, or loved ones, choose to maintain such limited connections simply because it allows such people a greater, more immediate connection with their past. Peripherally, it also helps to limit the number of 'chapters' in their life — possibly to a more manageable level. The less chapters, the less likelihood of remembering JUST how old you are, and JUST how far away those lost years are.

I could of course be wrong, I mean, what the hell do I know?

Fortunately or unfortunately, I am not one of those people. I'm much more demanding and restless. And while this allows me to meet a greater number of people and visit a wider range of places, there's only so much time to maintain friendships … and there's only a limited amount of space in my brain to remember all of those lost years and friends.

No, I'm not trying to recreate my youth. But yes, I do miss it. Very much so.

I miss my youthful exuberance. I miss knowing the better part of my life is yet to come — set out in front of me as a fateful mystery. I miss my old friends. I miss my old girlfriends (even the selfish bitchy ones … okay, maybe not them so much), I miss my old toys — the motorcycles, the cars, the surfboards, the snowboards. And I miss my old homes — the apartments, condos, and houses, and the cities, states, and countries. I miss them all.

And while I'm still glad I had the time to have experience all of those things and I still eagerly look towards the future, I simultaneously curse time for wrenching my past away from me — without my having even noticed.

So that's what I'm doing now — I'm sitting here awake at 3 a.m. in a half-fevered stupor in some shithole in India, listening to U2's "A Sort of Homecoming", trying to think about all the great places I'm heading this summer, but instead lamenting over all of the friendships, places, and experiences I've lost to time.

I know I can't return to those times. And I know I can't recreate as they once existed the close friendships I had before everyone got married, and divorced, and had kids, and got re-married, and moved, and got new jobs, etc., etc. And yes, I am thankful for all of those glorious memories from my past.

But goddamn it, I really wish I could, just for a moment, go back 20 years to that time when I could hang out in my room listening to "An Unforgettable Fire" with my friends dreaming about everything still to come, laid out before us as a glorious mystery.

This just isn't quite the same.

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Note: The next few posts were actually written in the last couple of weeks, but I only now have the opportunity to post them as the rains have calmed down for a couple days and the beach roads are back 'open' (using the term loosely).

And as Dee was so kind to point out commenting on my last post, I don't have spell check here in the wild, wild west Filos. So if I spell anything wrong again (like 'Goa', India), feel free to kiss my big white ass. But I mean that in the nicest way possible.

The combination of my recent motor-bike injury and the seemingly omnipresent rains have left me with an over-abundance of time this past week.

I can't surf or SCUBA dive because I can't get my injured knee wet. I can't drink alcohol because I'm on antibiotics. I've been limited in my use of electricity and phone because the power has been intermittingly shutting down due to the rains.

It's a hassel to go anywhere cuz all of the roads are flooded out and/or beyond slippery. And I've been left reading books by the bushel in an attempt to quelch the boredom factor quickly slipping in.

I've tried to use the extensive free time on my hands to do some serious meditative introspection. Unfortunately, that has led me to again debating the entire basis of my lifestyle (i.e., living abroad searching for surf).

Back in Indonesia, this stuff made sense. You have a surfboard, they have surf, it's cheap, and you can stay for months at a time and not get too bored.

But just what the fuck am I doing here in the Philippines? And now?

The weather is dismal. The surf has been dismal. The locals THEMSELVES are bored out of their mind this time of year (which leads to some REALLY dodgy pastimes). Options are limited.

At this point, it's painfully obvious that I've lost track of the entire basis why I initially left the States in the frist place. Indeed, I now only vaguely recall such grand aspirations of living abroad on virtualy nothing, having nothing, and being responsible for nobody but myself. Oh, and doing nothing but surf and sleep, of course.

It's the stuff of dreams, right? Not so much.

The journey is never as liberating as we anticipate.

I haven't felt that peaceful vibe I briefly had in Indo for some time, and I now feel like I'm again swimming against the currents. Even before I stopped working last year, I felt that 'flow' — then, pushing me out of the practice of law and out of the State of Florida.

But I fought those currents — fought them hard for a good 15 years, pursuing a career and lifestyle I didn't want. But finally, I gave in to the flow, allowing them to take me wherever. This led to my inevitable exit from a legal career and Florida (and the States).

That time of first releasing myself that 'flow' was, although disconcerting, probably the most satisfying period of my life. I don't regret at all leaving everything I had. However, I think I lost that feeling soon thereafter, reverting back to 'American Me' soon thereafter — status and money concious to the core.

I briefly had what I was looking for — that feeling of peaceful nonpurpose — and then it was gone. I've been searching for that feeling for the past 6 months throughout Southeast Asia. I want very much to again feel like I know which way to go.

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Here are a couple of videos I ran across that absolutely must be watched by anyone with any interest in how the internet, and especially the latest "Web 2.0″ phenomena, is effecting the way people conduct business, and frankly, how they interact in general. That goes for internet marketing gurus, social networking geeks, software designers, political pundits, and anyone else concerned with understanding and/or tapping into the full scope of the internet.

This first video was created just recently by Micheal Welch, an Assistant Professor of Cultural Anthropology at Kansas State University. I initially saw the clip over at Uniquely the Epitome. The video is an extremely thoughtful, poignant, and well-produced video essay on the way that culture, relationships and expression have evolved as a result of the internet.

The Machine is Us

The second video is a bit older. It is a piece taken from the last segment of the last show of the 1976 BBC series, "The Day the Universe Changed." This show was written, produced and directed by James Burke, a British science historian well known for focusing on the history of science and technology. Burke's shows were not only extremely informative, but oddly prophetic in their use of global history and cultures to arrive at possible conclusions. For example, in this clip, Burke prophesies that with the computer:

You might end the regimentation of people living and working in vast unmanageable cities; uniting them instead in an electronic community, where the Himalayas and Manhattan were only a split-second apart. You might, with that and much more, break the mold that has held us back since the very beginning.

It is truly amazing that Burke had the foresight — over 30 years ago — to predict that which Welch and others have only recently concluded about the full potential of the computer (and the internet). Watch the clip to its conclusion and you'll see what I mean. Absolute brilliance.

James Burke, The Day The Universe Changed (1976)

P.S. Ironically, the music used by Burke at the conclusion of his show is also extremely similar to that used by Welch in his video from 30 years later.

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This photo comparison was prepared by Brendon over at "What Would Tyler Durden Do?" As aptly noted by Brendon, Fergie's even wearing the same hat from the movie.

I wonder if she and Drew Barrymore will ever do another movie together. Fergie could always play the bad guy in the next "Charlie's Angels" movie, I suppose.

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