Book's Preface

"A man must know where he really is in relation to the world."

NKB (1949-?)

Introduction to a book on the march to sagacity, old age, and then death. 

It could be very presumptuous of you to imply that you finally attained some sagacity before you get really old and die. But a man at some point in his life must have a confidence in his own wisdom, especially in relation to the conventional wisdom. 

So conventional wisdom was wrong, as it usually is. Seattle scored a big knockout of the favorite Denver in the 2013 Season Super Bowl. You were correct in your assessment. You bet on the underdog and won some money. You had no courage. You should have bet much bigger. You should have believed more in your analysis and truly listened to your instinct. Anyway, Greed is a disease and an affliction. Don't let it destroy you as it has done to many others. 

Somebody told you that you possessed an undercooked, if not plainly raw, prose. You chuckled loudly then laughed uproariously, "Buddy, I write to comfort the afflicted and to afflict the comfortable. If you think you're smart and knowledgeable and classy kind of guy, you'd better prove that to me because I will test you and sooner or later you will reveal your true nature. I hate phonies and cowards and liars with a passion. I have a thing for facts and truths. That's why I read serious books and I am keen on philosophy. Stupid assholes laugh when I mention my passion for philosophy. And I just look at them with a bemused smile that hopefully conceals a contempt for their ignorance and stupidity. Silence is the loudest expression of contempt. It is the breeding ground for real ruptures and violet violence. Ordinary, stupid "humans" believe in nonsense and embrace outlandish myths because of their lack of acumen in philosophy. They don't know they are intellectual and emotional and social slaves. They happily follow mind benders and manipulators. Fuck, they don't even know the meaning of life. They live just like animals: eat, sleep, procreate, and then die. The only difference they have from animals is that they believe in "God" and think they will go to "heaven" after they die. They are too stupid to realize it's I who ostracize them in my mind while they smugly "think" that I am a social outcast. I don't want to be like them. They are like flies which eat shit and think it's a fine thing to do. To their way of "thinking" a trillion flies can't be wrong. I hate crowds and detest herd mentality.) I don't give a fuck if they think I am weird and different and they would have nothing to do with me. They don't know I always regard myself as a real human while I view  them as nothing but stupid and ignorant herd animals. Do you understand what I'm saying? Listen, as I struggled to understand minds superior to mine (especially with respect to math and logic), I thought of minds inferior to mine and the poses and pretenses they adopted to make themselves look good, I put on a sardonic smile. A person must be comfortable as to who he is and must know his place. I am most comfortable as to who I am and I know my place in this world. What about you? You're going to fucking die, anytime now. Are you still refusing to see who the fuck you are?"

Today you learned that Phillip Seymour Hoffman had died of heroin overdose. You felt sad at his untimely death because he was a very good actor. Just watch his performance in "The Scent of a Woman". In fact this movie stirred a latent desire for acting in you. Everybody has his own demon. For Hoffmann, it was drugs and booze; for you: violence and ego.

You must realize whenever you complain or tell a bad luck story, nobody would give a fuck about your bad luck. Instead, the assholes and simpletons out there take that you are telegraphing them that you're weak-minded and are looking for pity. By taking about your pain, you're in fact extending and elevating, not lessening, it. Pain may be a good teacher but it is an unpleasant one and may turn you into a monster, eventually. So the key is to not relive or extend your pain. Be strong. Be impervious to pain. Those assholes who lashed out to you were in pain. Strong folks were silent and would bide their time for the right moment to strike. 

At long last, you are writing a book. And you will finish it before you die. The book may take weeks, months, or years, and may be written while you take detours on essays, short stories, or poems. The reason why you are writing it is that you want to give structure and architecture to what's been percolating in your mind. Writing it will do you good. The energy spent in finishing it would be better than it would be expended in plotting to commit acts of violence against certain assholes. Acts of violence are acts of ultimate stupidity. They would land you in a land of legal and thus financial troubles and family and public shame, though you would have temporary and much-needed satisfaction. You are too smart to seek instant gratification though you must confess that you would be overjoyed and definitely go to a bar to celebrate with your bosom buddy, Omar Sabat, if you learn through the grapevine certain assholes are developing terminal cancers or some horrible things (like they slip on the sidewalk and crush their balls or they wake up in the morning and find themselves unable to move because of a very debilitating stroke that took place overnight.) Hate has its own fuel. Love is not the only game in town. 

A nebbishy bitch confessed that she "bristled" when first encountering your mystical and cryptic messages. What a stupid bitch! She should have been grateful and gratified instead. She should have got down on her knees and thanked her lucky star for encountering you and your words. Inferiority complex drove her to behave in an irrational, defensive manner instead of calmly looking at the facts at hand. But the reaction of the bitch was typical of the behaviors of the assholes and fools you have encountered. Unlike them, you are not uncomfortable when encountering folks who are superior to you in some ways. You gladly consider them as models and teachers for you to emulate. They inspire you. You have always been a student ever since you wised up. 

"Lt. Col. Frank Slade: You're back too fast. You didn't get my cigars, did you? Get outta here, Charlie. 

[loads the .45] 

Charlie Simms: I thought we had a deal. 

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: I welched. I'm a welcher. Didn't I tell you? 

Charlie Simms: No, what you told me was, that you gave me all the bullets. 

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: I lied. 

Charlie Simms: Yeah, well you could've fooled me. 

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: And I did. 

[pause] 

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Charlie, how you ever gonna survive in this world without me? 

Charlie Simms: Colonel, why don't you just give me the gun, all right? 

[Frank picks up the gun and points it at Charlie] 

Charlie Simms: What are you doing? 

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: I'm gonna shoot you, too. Your life's finished anyway. Your friend George is gonna sing like a canary. And so are you. And once you've sung, Charlie, my boy, you're gonna take your place on that long, grey line of American manhood. And then you will be through. 

Charlie Simms: I'd hate to disagree with you, Colonel. 

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: You're in no position to disagree with me, boy. I got a loaded .45 here. You got pimples. I'm gonna kill you, Charlie, 'cause I can't bear the thought of you SELLIN' OUT! 

Charlie Simms: [now firm] Put the gun down, all right, Colonel? 

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: What? You givin' me an ultimatum? 

Charlie Simms: No, I'm... 

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: I give the ultimatums! 

Charlie Simms: I'm sorry. All right I'm sorry. 

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: It's all right, Charlie. You break my heart, son. All my life I've stood up to everyone and everything, because it made me feel *important*. You do it... because you mean it. You've got integrity, Charlie. I don't know whether to shoot you or adopt ya. 

Charlie Simms: Not much of a choice, is it, sir? 

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Oh, don't get cute now.......

..................................

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Ooh, but I still smell her. 

[inhales deeply through nose] 

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Women! What can you say? Who made 'em? God must have been a fuckin' genius. The hair... They say the hair is everything, you know. Have you ever buried your nose in a mountain of curls... just wanted to go to sleep forever? Or lips... and when they touched, yours were like... that first swallow of wine... after you just crossed the desert. Tits. Hoo-ah! Big ones, little ones, nipples staring right out at ya, like secret searchlights. Mmm. Legs. I don't care if they're Greek columns... or secondhand Steinways. What's between 'em... passport to heaven. I need a drink. Yes, Mr Sims, there's only two syllables in this whole wide world worth hearing: pussy. Hah! Are you listenin' to me, son? I'm givin' ya pearls here. 

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: [shouting] I'm in the dark, here! 

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: I asked you a question. Do you want me to adopt ya or don't ya? 

Charlie Simms: Please? I mean, you're just in a slump right now. 

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Slump? No slump Charlie. I'm bad. I'm not bad. No. I'm rotten. 

Charlie Simms: You're not bad. You're just in pain. 

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: What do you know about pain? hmm? You little snail darter from the Pacific Northwest. What the fuck you know about pain?"

Yes, what the fuck they know about pain? Do they know enough to contemplate homicide and then suicide? They just talk, pontificate, and mentally masturbate in public, but they actually say nothing worth remembering. All verbal diarrhea and hot air. For most human animals, music is the sound of their cacophonous voice.

In your biased and stupid opinion and analysis, human language is, among other functions, a precursor to actions. It tells us the intents and feelings of the speaker, especially when he/she is enraged. So, perversely, as much as unpleasant and jarring the vulgar language is to my ears and sensibilities, you do "appreciate" that kind of language from the speaker. On the other hand, you do know one seeming "gentleman" who never uses coarse language, but you are very leery of him because he's so proud of himself and uses his civilized but very angry and copious language to smash others' egos and sensibilities. You would respect him if he just touches lightly on the issues while sparing the readers of his obvious command of civilized but copious, righteous, ego-filled and angry language. Remember, our private, personal truths may not be universal truths. Still, without getting on the Net and boldly postulating your views, you would not have learned about three things:

1. Human propensity for self-projections.

2. We hate in others what we hate in us the most. 

3. Very few humans, especially if they fancy they are "educated" simply because they earned some certificates and designations from college, are capable of respecting and accepting facts and truths, especially in a public setting. They would gamely try to project an image of being learned and informed when in fact they don't know an iota what they're talking about. In other words, they cannot stand of the idea that in some areas and arenas, they are abysmally ignorant and stupid. They have to prove to others that they are knowledgeable so they foolishly pontificate. Of course, the more they try to appear knowledgeable, the more ridiculous and pathetic they are in the public eye or to those in the know. 

Oh, your words were not this snarky and snarly when you first stepped out into life. You used to be sweet and innocent. Then pain, intense and agonizing, came along and opened your eyes to the realities about human animals. And your speech then acquired a painful quality. They say pain is a private matter, but you publicize and parade it. Pope Francis in his first Christmas message said, "True peace is  not a lovely facade which conceals conflicts and divisions. Peace calls for daily commitment." Substitute peace for love or knowledge, more realities will surface. A smug, self-impressed ignoramus once opined that a jurist would know more about ethology than ten scholars who have devoted their lives studying about the subject. What did the fuck he knew about the subject of ethology to make such a stupid, unsubstantiated, rhetorical, and theoretical comment? Pride without substantiation or basis is a dumb thing to have. But human animals are fucking like that. They cling to their self-created, unfounded pride as a shipwrecked sailor clings to a floating piece of wooden board. Intellectuality must be based on honesty, otherwise it is just ignorance all the same. A piece of paper granted by a institute of higher learning does not necessarily mean that you are a bona fide intellectual. You must earn it the hard way: you question conventional wisdom, you observe, you test your hypothesis, you verify, you make sure your convictions and beliefs stand the test of verifiability and duplication. Realities and truths are rarely immutable. So you must also state the qualifying conditions under which your realities and truths operate. Until you do so, you have no right to call yourself an intellectual or even an educated person. Are you listening to me, assholes and scumbags?

So, the bitch is still in pain. That's why it still barks whenever the opportunities present themselves while it refuses to deal with the facts at hand. As stated ad nauseam, we can easily tell the character of the speaker from the way he/she employs words and logic. Assholes and scumbags always think they are right and in the know. They jump up and down like monkeys possessed if their egos get wounded. 

But enough about this bitch and that asshole. This book is not about them, exclusively. If it were, it would be, like them, very boring and very unpleasant. The book is going to deal with love and friendship, job and identity, meanings of existence), and Man's drive for expressions and creativity. 

To be continued)