How Zach Braff Made Me Consider Quantum Morality

Yesterday I read this blog about Zach Braff's Kickstarter project:

http://kenlevine.blogspot.ca/2013/05/i-wont-give-zach-braff-one-dime.html

I felt that it had some excellent points, and it moved a passion in me to criticize those with power. If you were on my Facebook page, you may have seen the link, and participated in the discussion, you saw that initially I used some pretty strong language against Mr. Braff. My biggest issue with Mr Braff's campaign, and it remains one, is that his celebrity status may draw attention away from people who don't have star-power. There's no real way to quantify what this would mean in actual dollars contributed, but I think it's hard to deny that Mr Braff does get a leg up given his previous body of work. I shared this blog with a bunch of people, but most notably a friend of mine who is about to launch an Indiegogo campaign for a web series. I was somewhat dismayed at his tepid response, as I thought the piece was at least relevant to his interests. We talked a little bit about it, and this is the point he made to me,

"Guy brought up some good points, but I am trying really hard these days to not waste any energy on being against anything. To many things I am for, not least of which is creating."

I've been rolling this thought around quite a bit, and in fact that's why I didn't end up writing a post yesterday. My mind works in what I assume is a quirky way (never having had another mind, I really can't say what's quirky and what's normal). The above statement got me thinking about the circular nature of our thoughts and actions. We've all heard the axiom "do unto others", and my father was particularly fond of citing the German turn on the idea which translates roughly as what you call into the forest is what echoes back. Call it karma, justice, or whatever you will, it would seem that humans have known for a long time that there is a reciprocity, both to the good and to the ill, built into us and possibly into the universe. As I once saw argued on The Big Bang Theory, karma is practically Newtonian physics played out through our actions. And physics you can't escape.

There's an interesting conundrum in quantum physics, and it's known as the Measurement Problem (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Measurement_problem). The long and short of the issue is that observation changes the outcome of an experiment. There are all kinds of practical issues to wrestle with if you're trying to do quantum physics, but there are also some very interesting metaphysical implications to this fact of the universe. So far as we know, we're the only species conducting experiments and seeking out knowledge actively. I would argue that we are the only species we know of that can act as a true observer, or at least that we should assume as much because of our inability to communicate complex ideas with any other species. To that end, our observation effects the universe, although we might not be able to measure it. Our observation may be creating the universe, after a fashion, as our expectations impose (but without our willing it) rules and structures onto the very smallest and most fundamental parts of existence. Ironic that we may posses such power, but inherently lack the ability to direct it. But this does illustrate how, in a very real way, what we say and do will impact reality, affecting the conditions of our existence. We are burdened then with the fact that we are all co-creators not only of our social and economic realities, but of the physical world itself. We are bound then, to promote and encourage creation and creative acts, regardless of their source, because we are all creators. Because it is what we do, whether we want to or not.

But it would be easy if I could reconcile myself to this fact without obstruction, but I can't. I can't because there is a dynamic of power involved, and I firmly believe that power requires criticism. I don't see how we can hope to live responsibly if we do not question and call out privilege. That's not to say we should place blame on those with privilege, but rather draw one another into debate over what we consider to be right and moral. That debate should never really end, and should create more questions than answers. So, I'm left feeling my favorite emotion; ambivalence. 

I don't know if I was right by my association with Mr. Levine's position. I only know that I was never going to be putting my money into Mr Braff's project, and felt that Mr Levine presented a compelling case against doing so. But to sooth my karmic ache, to feel as though I have addressed each angle on this issue I am compelled to, I had to check out the Kickstarter for "Wish I Was Here". Mr Braff writes eloquently and makes a compelling case for why he rejected funding from traditional studio models, but I'm still not moved to contribute.

But this is one of the best images I've ever seen.

In the end, everyone will have to decide for themselves. And to that end, to balance the scales and to hope that when my echo comes around it's both positive and critical, here's the link to Mr Braff's  project. I won't be contributing, but I appreciate that perhaps this has proven an opportunity for me to grow.

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1869987317/wish-i-was-here-1?ref=live

The Shuffle is Complete

So I didn't write anything on Friday, which was probably a little lazy of me. But there's a reason for that; The Epic House Shuffle. My good friends and landlords are expecting their first child later this year, and as such need the two-bedroom space on the main floor of the house I live in. In a move that may prove unwise, I agreed to take on a greater rent burden, and have moved from the basement to the converted attic of the house. Our other friend who was living on the main floor elected to move down to the basement. So we were left with a complete rotation of who's living in what space.

This hastily made diagram describes the attempt to create a flow of movement.

As I illustrate above, we concocted a scheme where we would be moving through the spaces in one direction. We largely achieved it too, but really only due to the friendliness all our lovely helpers maintained. The fact that the weather was nice was a big help too.

My stuff was relatively easy to take care of. Since I spent 2010-11 in Korea, a lot of my little things are still boxed up, and I haven't gotten very many big things since returning. I took the day on Friday to get most of my stuff out to the garage, and I feel that proved to be a pretty important step in getting the move done quickly for everyone. I'll admit to a sullen impulse through the early part of the day. It was born of being disproportionately prepared, and my general dislike of group projects, and was at best, an ignoble feeling, and I knew that. I like being independent and tending to my things myself, so when group action is needed, I sometimes find it frustrating. But regardless of my perceptions early on in the day, things did come together quite well.

My new bedroom window. I thought this was an interesting angle.

I really can't say enough about the great friends who showed up to help us out. The perfect combination of effort and levity which makes a load of crappy hard work so much easier to bear! And thanks to their effort and our attempt to be organized, we managed to get everyone into their new spaces in about 5 hours of work. Things were kinda slow to get started, but there was this point, and I don't know what caused it, but suddenly everything was moving all at once. I felt as if the first three hours were painful, and the last two blew past. Isn't time a funny thing?

My new space is basically two large rooms with a bit of hallway (and the bathroom, of course). I got my bedroom space set up first, as that's where my largest pieces of furniture go, and was able to host a few of the boys kicking around still at about 4:20 that afternoon. I'm really happy with the bedroom because it's long enough and organized in such a way that it works as two rooms in one. I'm able to have a good living room-type space, and a distinct bedroom space, which feels really nice. It also means I'll have to make an effort to remember to make my bed. At any rate, it's a comfortable space and I'm happy with it.

This would be the living room/bedroom

I had a date yesterday afternoon, so I had to get the kitchen set up on Sunday morning. With that, the apartment was set up for the most part. The kitchen is also a hybrid space, as I'm using part of it as my office space. I have temporary arrangements set up, and am working from them now. But I am fortunate to have a lovely roll-top desk at my mom's place which I am looking forward to getting set up here. I'm sure it'll help me to feel like a real writer, but whether I deserve that feeling or even if there's merit to having that feeling remains to be seen.

Real high-powered business stuff here. . .

It's working so far. I got my employment insurance claim filed this morning from here, although I'm still confused on how exactly to input my banking information with them, and am concerned about that. Doubly so that I can't even be put on hold to talk to someone at EI to check. I'm sure it'll work out. I also got my application for repayment assistance on my forever-taking student loans (I've never been great with money, and am more interested in getting out of the credit system than working within it.) done this morning. I also got the grocery shopping done, watched Game of Thrones, and set up an interview at the Beer Store down the street from me tomorrow. Guess I've got to call that productive!

So I've talked a little bit about myself and my attempt to turn living into production. I've talked a little bit about authenticity, which is going to be a concept I'll have to wrestle with as I inevitably look to monetize such production as I achieve. So I arrive at a point, rather suddenly, where I have to confront the relationship between this blog and authenticity. After all, how can I hope to feel good about making my life into a product (or series of products) if I have to abandon the same desire for meaningful expression which brought me to this place? I'll almost certainly need to revisit this point over and over again, and I hope that the conflict spurns deeper thought and better creativity from me. But this post isn't about creativity; it's about sex.

So this isn't bragging, and I want to be clear on that point from the outset. Muhammad Ali once said that it ain't bragging if it's true, and I intend to tell the truth. But tongue and cheek responses aside, I'm not interested in self-aggrandizement. This is something else. It's something in me which has me looking at things differently than I expected to. It's one way in which I find satisfaction by inverting a paradigm, and how choosing to that path has affected my views.

Lester Bangs, the great rock critic and one of the great literary minds of the 20th century if you're asking me, once wrote "Sometimes I think nothing is simple but the feeling of pain." In a lot of ways, I understand that, but I particularly understand it when I consider the one and only serious romantic adult relationship I've had. I spent my early twenties with one girl, lived with her, expected to marry her. Then, somehow, things changed. My belief is that we somehow grew apart without realizing it, but the only thing that stands out as clear and true about the end of that relationship is pain. We hurt each other, often and deeply, and neither one of us meant to do it. That feeling of pain was indeed the only simple thing about it. And it changed me.

While I don't believe this is a unique experience, I was always confused by sex. Not the mechanics or the desire for it, but how it made me want so badly, how much desire and pain could be twisted together around something so basic, seminal, and important for human existence. I really didn't know what to do with it. This young woman I was with, she and I had been one another's firsts, and so in with all the regular relationship stuff was this trust I had which I didn't even recognize at the time. I trusted her to be what I did with that prod and pull and twisting up. I guess I really wasn't very fair to either of us. But when that trust was broken (by both of us), all I was left with was confused desire and pain. It sent me off looking for something, but I had no idea what. I filled that search with a lot of short-term, ill-conceived gratification, and that did me more harm than good. But it was while I was plumbing the rotted depths of my impulses that I found people who embraced the simplicity of the experience of pain, and I first started exploring the BDSM community.

It took a few more years of slow exploration and my aversion to labels before I decided to embrace the community here in Toronto. I'm really only a few months into living out loud on this front, but here's a few things I've learnt about myself from it;

1- I like to make subtext context in order to find new avenues of thought and exploration
2- I am not monogamous. I might be poly-amorous. But whatever I engage in, respect for my partner(s) is key.
3- It really is all about that trust.

I really enjoy letting one another fall into the bliss of trust for a few hours. The privilege of doing pretty much whatever I want is something I exult in, and which I take a great deal of responsibility for. Part of that is playing safe and staying healthy, and part of that is understanding what you're doing and how to manage the risks to yourself and your partner. It's not nearly the hedonistic image I remember having when I was younger. But the fact that it is more involved, more complex, than pleasure-seeking; it's not all pleasure anyway. Let me be clear that I have inflicted pain for mutual sexual gratification, and I have no intention of stopping.

I have found my involvement with the kink community has given me a new freedom; that I don't worry about being attractive to someone else any more. I know the things I'm looking for, and actually seeking them out has made it a lot easier for me to understand how I may not be what someone else is looking for. I still think we've got a long way to come as a society in expressing rejection with personalizing it, but it's definitely helped my view. I was recently at a party in Kensington Market, dancing as a friend of mine was spinning, and I noticed a very attractive young woman. In years past, I might have agonized over my approach. But as it was not a kink-event, and I didn't know if this young woman would be into the sort of things I am, I didn't bother with it. It was nice to be able to easily let go of that anxiety before it could even manifest.

Oddest of all, I find that I am more engaged by and concerned with women's issues. I recently described it as a sort of "no one picks on my kid brother but me" mentality, but that's not the truth of it. It's a complex thing, but I recently read a quote from Jada Pinkett-Smith in Sinuous Magazine (can you tell that came to me through Facebook?) which seems to speak to it, "How is man to recognize his full self, his full power through the eyes of an incomplete woman?" It seems strange that as I like to tie girls up and spank them that I'd also want to see them as full, three-dimensional, and empowered women. But I do. I enjoy the exchange of power, when it's given to me or I'm given leave to take it. But if that woman is objectified, reduced, diminished, and disenfranchised, robbed of the power which is hers by virtue of being human, then there's nothing for me to receive in the exchange of power. Weird, huh?

So I guess the point here is three-fold. First that the feeling of pain is simple, but the response to pain is complex. Secondly, that I am trying and will continue to try to open up and bleed honesty. Things here might not always be to your liking or safe for work, but I'm going to try to be genuine. And lastly, I guess I really am a selfish prick, but in the strangest way I could conceive of.

I'd like to take a moment to discuss some thoughts on authenticity. Not long ago, I read a phenomenal article about Kurt Cobain and his death. I'm not sure when it was written, but it had less to do with Kurt and Courtney and more to do with Neil Young and what "art" is. The thesis, and one which I find compelling, was that Kurt's need to remain true and authentic in a world which wanted to distribute him, created the internal conflict which led to his suicide (I am not going to tread down the conspiracy path at this point).

There was a time, I'm sure most of you I know remember growing up with it, where to be authentic meant to disdain commercial success. It was an era where the only things we talked about were ironic, and where sarcasm was one of the highest forms of humor. I remember that it made us feel smarter, elevated above the sentimentality which was so relentlessly marketed at us. In order to maintain our sense of choice, our power over our actions, was to scoff at emotions which were not dark and brooding, and to dismiss anyone who did not project malaise. I was a teenager at the time, and therefore stupid by definition, so I suspect my recollections are filled-in by hyperbole and scenes from movies. But such recollections fit with this thesis, and I had this view confirmed when I was looking over the dust cover for my vinyl copy of The Black Keys' The Big Come Up,

"For the past twenty years we've been living in a world of irony that has made it hard to access the true soul and grit of trembling guitar lines, aching voices, and heart pounding beats."

Irony. Man, it's a bitch, and I for one believe that it's a governing law of the universe. From that 2002 album comes this plea for genuine emotion and connection. These were the hallmarks of many genres which have been mulched up into today's top 40, but none so aggressively as folk music. The need to be authentic seems to find its roots in the folk-rock explosion of the 60's, which does bring us full circle to Neil Young. And if you know the story on how Woodstock 1969 came to be, you'll quickly see the inherent hypocrisy embedded behind the popular narrative. The need to remain authentic eventually drove us away from the manipulations of our emotions, and away from the very expression which must lay at the heart of any act of art or communication. Ironic. All the way down.

But maybe we're living in an era now where things can be different. No longer dependent on the privileged channels of distribution, perhaps it is now more difficult to be so compromised. . . Or, and more likely, we're all already so compromised that "selling out" isn't a thing anymore. I'm not sure, so I'll just leave you with a little something from a genuine artist.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5mf-BIZumaA