The Passion Diaries 

The following “commodities” are quintessential reflections of contemporary man’s utterly ridiculous (and delightfully hilarious) efforts to extend his inventive projects far beyond the level of necessity but far short of any genuinely beneficial ingenuity.

# 1 The “Long Reach Comfort Wipe”

The Precedent: Arm + Hand + TP

http://www.asseenontv.com/

“The Long Reach Comfort Wipe is the answer to personal hygiene when reaching is difficult.” [Who is this for???] “The Comfort Wipe's soft flexible head grips toilet paper, tissue or pre-moistened wipes securely while its ergonomic* design reaches where you can't.” [I’ve yet to come across the human being who can’t reach his butt.] “The ultimate toilet aid.” [What sort of toilet needs an aid? Does a “toilet aid” provide aid for a toilet, or are we to assume that “toilet,” in this context, connotes the act of toileting?]

I’m perplexed. If it weren’t for the blatant implausibility of any anthropomorphic implications, I’d say the need for this gadget went out with the Tyrannosaurus Rex. The Long Reach Comfort Wipe is a paradigm of modern pseudo-conveniences. It’s an insatiable market—necessity is the mother of invention; greed is the mother of invented inconvenience.

*P.S. Ergonomics: “The applied science of equipment design, as for the workplace, intended to maximize productivity by reducing operator fatigue and discomfort. ” ... All things considered, methinks the diction’s a bit too big for its britches.

# 2 The WaxVac

The Precedent: Cotton Swabs

The WaxVac “gently draws dirt particles and moisture out of the ear. The secret is safe and gentle suction. Simply attach the silicone tip and insert in ear. Say ‘Goodbye’ to cotton swabs!”

 http://www.asseenontv.com/

A battery powered suction gun with replaceable silicone parts amounts to quite a bit of hardware; certainly more than one would expect of the successor of the cotton swab. Sure, the WaxVac requires the intermittent replacement of AA batteries and disposable silicone tips, and—yes—one must do a bit of meticulous hunting for the elusive replacements; but…cotton swabs are SO last decade.

The more galling offense, however, is the portrayal of commodified happiness in the WaxVac ad photos. Irrespective of the product’s effectiveness—whatever the potential benefits—under no circumstances are those smiles befitting of any activity executed with an ear vacuum. If the WaxVac PR team wants to tackle the feat of casting such a repugnant activity in a glamorous light, so be it. If, however, they expect us to believe that the level of pleasure emanating from the toothy grins of their spokes models is commensurate with the act of siphoning earwax, they must think we are one superlative brand of Idiot.

P.S. Watch the WaxVac infomercial (this one's a real treat...I highly recommend it)

# 3 Sauna Pants

The Precedent: Saunas…and pants

“Sauna Pants provide the benefits of a heat sauna in the areas you need it most—the stomach, waist, butt and hips. Within minutes, Sauna Pants will make you sweat quickly. Wipe clean with a damp cloth.”

 http://www.asseenontv.com/

As is their wont, these marketing mystics are playing fast and loose with the dialect. Under what circumstances does ‘butt sweat’ rise to a level of necessity? Furthermore—the term “Sauna” is less than apposite. This contraption neither looks like a sauna, nor does its essential function bare the semblance of a sauna so much as a heating pad, or a trendy and dangerously controversial DIY saran wrap jumpsuit (the work-out attire of choice among corner-cutting exercisers).

# 4 The GoPilot Portable Urinal (Female Package)

The Precedent: Empty bottles, highway shoulders, port-a-potties, and…diapers?

 http://www.asseenontv.com/

Call me lazy, but I’m going to let the pictures do the work here. I think they say plenty.

# 5 FIR-Real Sauna

The Precedent: Stationary saunas

 http://www.asseenontv.com/

This product earns brownie points for exceeding Sauna Pants in capturing the essence of its namesake, but it is not with Sauna Pants that the FIR-Real™ infrared sauna must contend. Their cyber sales-pitch opens with the question: “What makes the portable FIR-Real sauna superior to other FIR saunas?”

Well, for one—my immediate response to the opening question was: “This is a thing???” So, in my book it ranks #1 by default. For those who are privy to the precedents, however, FIR-Real posits the following evaluable attributes:

- Includes folding chair with 330 lb capacity (Gross)

- Special reflective fabric made from polypropylene cloth—same as your car sun shade

- Does not allow any odors (Unless FIR stands for Febreeze Infrared Rays, this seems highly implausible).

- Does not absorb any sweat; does not allow any bacterial buildup even after years of use; non-gassing (That is so freakin’ sexy.)

- Virtually 100% of the infrared emitted from the FIR-Real™ heaters is in the beneficial range for humans.

I can’t help but think that “in the beneficial range for humans” is a carefully crafted way of saying “in the range that won’t cause melanoma;” which leads me to wonder—what numerical values delineate “virtually 100%?” High stakes warrant precise data…particularly when the ends fall so short of justifying the means. I’m not going to gamble with my life for the sake of a portable sweat bath.

# 6 The Big Top Cupcake

The Precedent: Cupcakes

The product: The As-seen-on-TV Big Top Cupcake silicone bakeware kit comes with a two piece flexible, non-stick silicone mold, an “easy-fill insert”, idea book, and a caption that reads: “Bake giant cupcakes! 25 times bigger!”

Hm...Perhaps I’m ignorant to some boundaries within which we locals have mistaken a strictly region-specific colloquialism for a conventional term; but, in my neck of the woods, we have a different name for this sort of cupcake...we call it a cake. 

# 7 The Moo Mixer Supreme Chocolate Milk Mixer

The Precedent: Stirring

The product: The Moo Mixer Supreme is a fun, “totally cool” way to make chocolate milk. The Mixer features: an “easy to use” trigger button, “fun to hold” handle, a 16oz detachable tumbler, and a “totally cool whirling vortex of power.” The Mixer runs on two AA batteries (not included)—“just add milk, chocolate, and imagination!”

It's apparent  that we as a people have reached the pinnacle of laziness when we’re inventing battery powered, motorized contraptions to obviate spoons. I e-mailed Moo Mixer’s customer service representative to ask if they might, for the cost of additional shipping and handling, throw in a complementary can of “imagination?” I haven’t heard back.

# 8 What’s in a name?

Oftentimes, a product’s name is itself the ‘shark-jumper.’ Cases in point:

• “The Contour Kabooti Comfort Ring” - A donut cushion—provides relief from hemorrhoids; prevents coccyx discomfort

• “The Booty Belt” - Flat elastic band clipped to one’s belt loops to keep one’s booty covered without the unsightly belt bulge

• “Ankle Genie” - Zip up compression support for ankles and a mail-in rebate for three wishes... What’s that? No wishes? Huh…duped again! You win this round, you crafty false advertisers.

• “The Groutinator” - Austrian grout cleaner…

• “Heel-Tastic” - Seriously? 

• “Bust UP Cups” - Under-the-bra padded booby lifters

• “Lint Lizard” - A vacuum cleaner attachment that enables maximum lint removal from clothes dryers and in no way resembles a lizard or any part of a lizard, does not engage in lizard related activities nor does it perform lizard-like functions. It’s apparent that the “Lizard” in “Lint Lizard” is simply an allusion to someone’s overzealous affinity for alliteration.

# 9 Dog Dicer

As a ‘hilarious infomercial’ enthusiast, this gem made my month. It's a little bit-o-fantastic. 

Featured quotes:

"I love it because I feel safe knowing they won't choke." 

"If I take the kids over to the grandparents...I know they're going to be safe, no matter where they are."

Follow hyperlink below:

Click here to watch the infomercial.

You're welcome.

ALL QUOTES, VIDEOS AND PHOTOS BELONG TO WWW.AsSeenOnTV.com (UNLESS OTHERWISE INDICATED)

POWERED BY , INC. ©2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

ergonomic. Dictionary.com. The American Heritage® Stedman's Medical Dictionary. Houghton Mifflin Company.http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/ergonomic (accessed: April 19, 2014).

Wirth, Jason. Introduction to FWJ Schelling's Die Weltalter

03/06/2014

Bullying is not merely the stuff of preschool playgrounds, high school hallways, and the tween-to-teen Twittersphere. While it is fair to say that the gradual maturation of one’s moral compass sees a concomitant tapering of social cruelty, the extent to which this tapering occurs is exaggerated by smokescreens and sophistry. I hear it all the time—“Kids are mean;” and my inner monologue always adds—“…to your face. Adults are mean behind your back.”

As kids, our temper-tantrums land us in “time-out”. As adults, our temper-tantrums get us fired, evicted, rejected or jailed. As we climb the chronological ranks, our social tools evolve as well. We learn to be polite, candid, witty, ‘less-than-forthcoming’, subtle, sarcastic, underhanded, secretive, and ‘PC’. While we are less inclined to use the term “bully,” it is nonetheless true—every age has its bullies and its targets. Qualifying circumstances might include: facing the repercussions of others’ attempts to damage your reputation (e.g. via lies and gossip); mistreatment founded in jealousy, selfishness, ulterior motives or insincerity; or general consequences of prejudice and discrimination.

In relationships, every individual is both an exporter and an importer. In my last entry, I discussed exporting (direct outbound behavior). Now, I want to discuss importing; i.e. ways of processing and handling treatment (specifically mistreatment) incurred as a result of others’ direct, outbound behaviors. When I find myself in the line of fire, I make persistent efforts—not merely to cope—but to annul the power of the problem such that there remains nothing with which to cope (I aim to dissolve rather than deflect). Of the tools I’ve acquired—the most effective and versatile are those that allow me to rely solely on personal choices and inner fortitude. The beauty of relationships with "bullies"—they’re superficial, and I’ve discovered two very simple tools that, with persistent and diligent application, are often sufficient.

The effectiveness of every tool in my arsenal is contingent upon two universal prerequisites; i.e. an honest self-assessment or housecleaning and an honest attempt at communication. Be sure that you're not doing anything to provoke or justify the negative behavior. Then, make the person aware that the behavior is bothering you. Calmly and maturely communicate your feelings, ask that they refrain, and leave it at that. The following tools are applicable when problematic behaviors continue despite your innocence and your attempts at communication. The first is a generic line of self-talk. 

Tool 1 – The Script

Ask yourself:

- Why am I upset? Am I upset because I feel that someone has treated me unfairly? Yes.

- Do I realize that, in allowing this person’s behaviors to weigh on my mind—by allowing them to upset me and usurp my mental and emotional energy—I empower this person? If I can’t dismiss the situation and move on, it is because I feel I have unfinished business, and if setting the record straight is what I aim to do, then, for all intents and purposes, I aim to win this person’s approval. In letting this bother me, I imply that the wrong should be undone. Thus, I concede that this person’s opinions and the opinions of any coconspirators are important—that they matter. Do I realize that this concession and my refusal to let go necessarily imply that I have some desire to win this person over such that I change his/her opinion of me and thus compel a retraction of what he/she has said or done? I do.

- Is it fair to say that this person’s unwarranted behaviors were hurtful? Yes. And I did nothing to deserve this? Correct.

- Is it reasonable to believe that similar behaviors would be hurtful to anyone at whom they’re directed? Yes.

- Then how can I justify trying to win this person’s approval? How can I justify ongoing attempts to win the favor of someone who hurts people and treats people unfairly? Why do I care about the opinion of someone I would not care to emulate? I would loathe being the sort of person who makes people feel the way I'm feeling now. If I want to be a respectable person—if I want to respect myself—I must rise above, surrender stubborn pride, and expel the issue from my mind. I must let go of the situation, move past it, and realize that not doing so says more (negatively) about my character than anything this person has said or could say.

Why it works – This tool is effective for multiple reasons, but what is unique to its benefit? It makes me responsible in a way that challenges me morally. It goes beyond reminding me that this person’s opinion of me shouldn’t matter and that ignoring this person makes me “the bigger person.” It tells me that not letting go is morally reprehensible. I find that this tool provides strength and reassurance against the spontaneous backwards drifts to which I am occasionally prone.

Tool 2 – Vigilante Justice

There are better uses for the energy I waste worrying about my bully. I can turn my pain into a reminder that there are others dealing with similar situations and comparable feelings. I’m not suggesting vigilante justice in the form of retaliation. Rather, I can turn my attention to counseling or befriending other ‘targets’. Look around—it's not difficult to find someone being picked on or excluded. Rather than indulge my melancholy, I can look to ease someone else’s.

Why it works – For one thing, when I turn my attention to others, I shift focus away from myself. I stop thinking about my problems. Furthermore, altruism tends to be a self-esteem booster. Most importantly, when I let others know that they never have to feel alone, I ensure the same for myself.

Across the board—it is important that I concern myself with my part in a situation. I must surrender the reins to that which I cannot rightly control (that is—that which I cannot control without infringing upon others’ rights). I maximize my power by first accepting my powerlessness. Then, I can take steps toward restoring my peace of mind.

I am "devil's advocate" personified (a trait attributable, in large part, to my upbringing). I was always taught to put myself in others’ shoes. If empathy is a sense or capacity, mine was well nurtured and, while it is something that is now deeply engrained in my character, I take little credit for it. I believe every one of us is born with basic capacities for empathy and compassion, but they are nothing if not nurtured.

Nevertheless, I am befuddled by the ease and frequency with which people exploit one another for selfish gain. While history is accessible only through narrative accounts, the evidence is undeniable. As long as our species has walked this earth, it has been the modus operandi of the majority to perfect the art of treating others as means, and, counterintuitive as it may seem, “ethics” itself is a testament to the proposition. At the very least, I would like to believe that this behavior is rooted more in ignorance and aloofness than in heartless selfishness.

The term “objectification” is familiar. It appears most commonly in a feminist context—i.e. “the objectification of women.” What does it really mean? The “objectification of (x)” is the practice of using (or tendency to think of) X as an object. When we “use” people, we treat them as means to some desired end. In other words, we treat them as tools or objects. Regardless of circumstance—irrespective of any arguable ethical principle, personal value or slant—a person is not an object. Everyone “knows” this, but to know an empty, formal principle is not to know the genuine significance, without which one remains essentially ignorant.

Take, for instance, the following anecdote: A woman once came to my house on a Sunday, in the middle of a football game (a play-off game, no less) to conduct a census interview. When she knocked on the door, I was irritated and on the verge of voicing my circumstantial intolerance. However, when I opened the door, my attitude of intolerance promptly dissipated.

This sixty-something woman—wire-rimmed reading glasses hanging from her neck, resting on an earth-toned embroidered sweater, perched atop pleated khakis and brown loafers—is someone’s grandmother. This adult was once a child. She had a first home, a first school, and a first pet, perhaps a goldfish named Goldy…perhaps she cried the day she came home from school and found him floating upside down in a small glass bowl lined with rocks and plastic grass and a treasure chest that blows bubbles. Perhaps she made a macaroni necklace for her mom for Christmas when she was five; and, when she was eight, she broke a vase in the living room, blamed it on the cat and was grounded for lying.

Perhaps this woman married her high-school sweetheart and stayed home to raise their three children; and, after sending her children to college, money was tight, so she decided to get a part-time job for supplementary income. Pickin’s were slim as she had neither a college degree nor professional experience. She worked odd jobs here and there, as opportunity permitted. When she came to my house and knocked on my door, I was irritated, but when I opened the door I could not respond coldly or callously, because I did not see a census-bureau employee. I saw someone’s mother, wife, and grandmother—a woman, with a family, a life, a history and feelings.

I chose to give her the interview. Had I declined, that would have been okay too. The point is—when I speak, act and engage with others, I should always maintain the conscious awareness that the person with whom I interact is a real, whole, thinking, feeling individual. If I wouldn’t speak coldly and callously to my grandmother in the same situation, if it would pain me to think of someone else treating my grandmother that way, then why would I act that way towards someone else’s? I wouldn’t.

How do you feel when someone claims to be your friend but calls only when he needs a favor? How would you feel if you accepted a dinner invitation only to discover that your date is on the rebound and his intention is to parade you around like a trophy to spite his ex? How do you feel when someone takes the time to shovel the snow from around his car only to pile it behind yours? How do you feel when an angry stranger uses you as a surrogate for his antagonist, making you the target of misplaced aggression? How would you feel if someone did any of the above to someone you love?

I am befuddled, not so much by the propensity to treat others as objects, but for the ability to do so. I simply cannot compartmentalize to such a degree that I can extract from others their humanness and use them as pawns in my selfish endeavors. Genuine empathy is not optional; there is no “off-switch.” However, genuine empathy lies dormant until “switched-on,” and I believe that most of us have, at the very least, this dormant capacity.

It is never too late to begin nurturing latent capacities. We have to remind ourselves that people are not objects—that the individuals with whom we interact are not mere shells. Every one of us has an internal life, an external life, a history, and a story.

“Feelings dwell in man, but man dwells in his love…love does not cling to an I, as if the You were merely its ‘content’ or object; it is between I and You. Love is responsibility…in this consists what cannot consist in any feeling—[equality].” (Martin Buber)

  I have been struggling to choose a topic for my first entry. It is apparent (to me), that the first public entry poses the biggest challenge, because I feel that the first has to be everything at once. I’m paralyzed by the daunting, unapologetic weight of first impressions. “It has to be an attention grabber, a spark of brilliance, a delegate for my cognitive committee; it’s a real make-or-breaker.” In other words, this intimated ‘first-entry’ is my kryptonite.

I’ve compiled a long list of topics and article titles, but there’s not a topic in the list that strikes me as an ideal “starter,” and I’m trapped in this ceaseless discourse with myself—fettered by indecision. I scan the list of titles, over and over…and reject every one of them:

• “Coping with Bullies: Shifting focus to other victims and practicing vigilante justice”
• “Coping Methods for the Perpetually Misunderstood”
• “The Homophobic’s Erroneous Appeal to Nature."

No, no, no, no. The target audience is too small for an opening entry.

• “Selfless Selfishness vs Selfish Selflessness"

No...relatively inconsequential...and kinda hard to say.

• “The Nature of Revenge”
• “Hume’s Sensible Knave and the Pitfalls of Selfish Altruism”
  
• “Speciesism and Delusions of Grandeur”
• “Socratic Ignorance: A Knowing Not-Knowing”
• "God: the Eternal You and the Drive for Pan-relation"
• “Relation and I-consciousness”

No, no, no, no, no...too obscure for a 'first entry'.

• "Love and Loss"
• "Fallacies in the Pursuit of Meaning, Passion, and Purpose”

No, no—too broad to tackle in one entry.

This is all too familiar. The more importance I place on a task, the more debilitating the paralysis. Once again, I sit staring down the barrel of certain defeat, unable to budge though I’m well aware that the finger on the trigger is my own, and this gun is full of blanks. As I sit in idle contemplation, I’m reminded of a quote I once read (thanks to a fortuitous landing on an obscure website, the name of which eludes me):

"A great deal of talent is lost to the world for want of a little courage. Every day sends to their graves obscure [wo]men whose timidity prevented them from making a first effort." - Sydney Smith

After rereading the quote, it occurred to me that I have two options. I can succumb to my fear of failure, or I can throw caution to the wind, embrace my amor fati, and show my hand, not because it’s a surefire winner, but because—win, lose, or draw—I refuse to fold. While the latter may end in failure, it is the former that ensures failure by self-fulfilling prophecy. In thinking this through, it occurs to me just how silly a “fear of failure” is. How can I fear “failure” to such a degree that it renders me paralyzed if I am, at the same time, willing to surrender all effort and, in so doing, render failure inevitable? That in mind—I realize that I have nothing left to lose (hence the candor).

I want to talk about all of the items on my list. I want to write the articles, and with ‘first impression’ jitters out of the way, I can…and I will. For now, I'll take this opportunity to segue into a related topic—one that often graces my contemplation; i.e. the debilitating obsession with ends.

A fear of failure is one of several instances in which one’s unrelenting obsession with possibility poses acute hindrances. That which exists is present and actual. Actuality annuls possibility. Man thinks and man acts. So long as man thinks he is contemplating action—he actualizes nothing. We learn to “think before we act”. Unfortunately, there is a fine line between beneficial premeditation and paralyzing deliberation.

The obsession with ends begets paralysis because ends are possibilities, and possibility is infinite. The wider the breadth of my proverbial horizons, the greater the depth of my worldly understanding, the longer I deliberate. I know too much of possibility. There are too many ends to consider and too many paths or combinations of paths that may get me where I want to go. Not only must I seize with conviction, an end from an infinite pool, once I make this choice, the deliberation begins anew as I contemplate the means by which I may reach this end. If I am to succeed, I must act and I must commence of my own volition.

In an unprecedented, valueless existence, such tasks as decision making and voluntary action are simple; they are not inherently difficult. So, whence comes the complication, anxiety and fear? Man has an inherent sense of responsibility unique to his species. Sartre says, in his Existentialism and Human Emotions, “Man is condemned to be free—condemned, because he did not create himself, yet, in other respects is free; because, once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does.” In a more antidotal tone, he goes on to say (of man):

We shall confine ourselves to reckoning only with what depends upon our will, or on the ensemble of probabilities which make our actions possible. When we want something, we always have to reckon with probabilities…but probabilities are to be reckoned with only to the point where my action comports with the ensemble of these possibilities, and no further. The moment the possibilities I am considering are not rigorously involved by my action, I ought to disengage myself from them.

I will rely on fellow-fighters insofar as these comrades are involved with me in a common struggle, in the unity of a party or a group in which I can more or less make my weight felt…But, given that man is free…I cannot count on men whom I do not know. I’ve got to limit myself to what I see.

While Sartre does not explicitly differentiate between them, I believe that some pursuits are blind and some are blinding; they are very different, and we are prone to both. A blind pursuit presupposes the concession that ends are not absolute.

“It is not given to everyone to know the end.” F.W.J Schelling

A blinding pursuit, on the other hand, is one in which the obsession with preconceived ends prevents one from genuinely participating in life; that is to say—it prevents one from engaging with one’s present (with actuality). A blinding pursuit renders the pursuer vulnerable to failure by way of paralysis, or anxiety-induced forfeiture, or by the delusion that success requires the acquisition of predetermined ends.

“Existentialist conversion does not suppress my instincts, plans, and passions. It merely prevents any possibility of failure by refusing to set up as absolutes the ends toward which my transcendence thrusts itself.” Simone de Beauvoir

He who accepts the haze on the horizons towards which he travels is better off, by far, than he who refuses it. To accept the haze is to venture—period. It is to accept the absence of preconceived ends and venture. It is to concede to uncertainty and ambiguity and venture.

“Given that men are free tomorrow and they will freely decide what man will be, I cannot be sure that, after my death, fellow-fighters will carry on my work to bring it to its maximum perfection… Does that mean that I should abandon myself to quietism? No. First, I should involve myself; then act on the old saw: Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

The doctrine that I am presenting is the very opposite of quietism, since it declares, ‘There is no reality except in action’…man is nothing else than his plan; he exists only to the extent that he fulfills himself; he is therefore nothing else than the ensemble of his acts, nothing else than his life.” Sartre

De Beauvoir, Simone. The Ethics of Ambiguity. Trans. Bernard Frechtman. Illustrated reprint ed. N.p.: Citadel, 1948. Print.

Sartre, Jean-Paul. Existentialism and Human Emotions. N.p.: Citadel, 1985. Print.

Schelling, F.W.J. The Ages of the World. Trans. Jason M. Wirth. N.p.: SUNY, 2000. Print.

To speak of "purpose" is to perceive its absence. To pursue "purpose" is to both acknowledge its absence and believe in the possibility of its presence. The concept itself (purpose) develops out of a palpable lack within the individual—an insufferable internal void—the trademark vestige of one who long ago turned away from the path of life for life’s sake. He is one with those harboring the emptiness of a man who, as he came upon the crossroads of Life and Something Like It, experienced a state of newly heightened consciousness and took pause; one who, suddenly awakened—suddenly aware of the weight of his own autonomy—stood vis-à-vis life and rejected it. He cast his mind’s eye to the north and saw the unconditioned and mistook it for a threat; to the east he saw conditioned intimations and mistook them for promises, and he turned.

This turning, this wanting, is one with rejection. The paradox—to choose the tangential venture is to refuse to accept life as its own purpose; but it is this refusal that first hypostasizes “purpose” as its lack, and it is only in the aftermath of the decision that man experiences the presence of the absence and dubs it a state of "purposelessness". The road he chooses is the road to perdition—the path of he who makes of his life a mission to fill a borderless void.

I speak of purpose, but what of passion?

In my earliest pursuits I operated under the preconceived notion that purpose would emerge from the perfect alchemy of passion and practicality. I set out to perfect this undisclosed equation. In my mind it looked something like this:

A = Passion; B = Practicality; C = Purpose; X = Subjectivity; AX + BX = C

My pursuit of “purpose” became a quest for the means to bridge the gap that acts the barrier between the necessary evil of bland dogmatic practicality and the fiery, untenable expanses of passion. For quite some time I hoped to reconcile the two and force their fusion. Where this forced fusion played the dangling carrot, my every endeavor proved an exercise in futility.

I always found myself stuck between schisms. I’ve always been too nerdy to be cool, too eclectic and eccentric to be a nerd, too artistic to be an intellectual and too short on confidence and conviction to embrace the role of the starving artist. I’m smart but silly; a bit nutty and neurotic, but not quite crazy. I’m prone to epiphanies and ephemera and epiphanies of ephemeral merit. I can be quite sensible, but nothing about me quite makes sense.

Mulling over mental preservations—the immaterial fossils of younger years—I remember a different me. I remember a girl headstrong and brimming with passion. I see her as I see a character in a movie. The face is familiar, but it is an image and nothing more. An image is an apprehension exclusive to the occupants of distant perches, and it is that same distance that bars the witness from genuine knowledge of the living, breathing, thinking, feeling being within. Such is the nature of a face…a façade. I remember that foregone girl of my childhood; I remember her face. I remember her being, but I cannot remember being her.

    The uncontested passion of youth was short-lived. “Trial and error" began to ring of insanity—doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results. Time and experience and consequential error upon consequential error rendered my spirit threadbare. My pursuit of passion was to no avail. It was not until unwitting participation and unprecedented experiences ignited my passions anew that I began to understand the futility of my previous endeavors.

A misguided pursuit does not necessarily preclude worthwhile discovery. Misdirection needn't beget failure, as one often finds what one seeks in unexpected places. Likewise, one often garners enjoyment and satisfaction from things one never thought to seek. However, these otherwise benign misconceptions often engender a characteristic peripheral blindness that renders them malignant.

Passion is not to be found in the external world. It does not exist actually or independent of the impassioned subject. One can no sooner find passion in the external world than one can find an object that is 'happiness' or 'sadness'. These are not things. They have no material reality—no independent existence. I cannot imagine one would argue otherwise; so, why do we so often speak of a desire or attempt to “find happiness” or to “find passion”? The error is not merely semantic. It is an equivocation that reinforces a false belief—a belief that all too often drives the believer in his countless vain pursuits of wild-geese.

Life without passion seems hardly worth living. But...I seem to recall life before passion. What's the difference? If passion is essential, its absence palpable, its presence desirable but ever elusive, how does one proceed from a state of enlightened lifelessness? I'm convinced that the answer lies somewhere in the void. 

“Man is a being who makes himself a lack of being in order that there might be being.” (Sartre)

Here goes nothin'...

~ Lauren