BTW guys, you are among the coolest people I know. As far as I can tell, you are all of you adults. If you are, you probably don't need to read this. If you know any other adults, and I guarantee absolutely that you do, consider sending them this. You know better than I what the best decision is. Why am I posting this? I recently went to the best bat mitzvah ever, sorry to those of you who missed it, and shared a wink with a conservative rabbi who as far as I know could be quite a bit wiser than you, because he was giving jews every reason to kill arabs in his argument and concluded with a prayer for jews and arabs to join hands.
Recently, contemplating the subject of parenthood, I thought about two people - don't ask me who - on here, who were discussing it. One of you said something about how you were willing to expose your children to anything they wanted to see as far as movies, etc, or something like that. One of u about how you exposed them to, compared to that, quite a bit less. I think at least one of you voiced the worry that you didn't want your children hanging out with the other parent's children.
I have thought very long and very hard on the subject. In fact, it is an elegant representation of what I have spent 22 years trying to understand. Consider this: neither, with this representation alone, can either of you be said to be a better parent than the other.
If you found this interesting, consider friending me on facebook, joining serenes forest (FE forum, where I spent a lot of my time), . My name is Matthew Aaron Vomacka. First and foremost, I'm a citizen of the United States of America, but secondmost, I'm an economist.
Oh, and if you want to send any donations, you're going to have to search a lot harder for my address (BTW, I dunno if it's on facebook, I don't really spend much time thinking about what I put on facebook). But I suspect at least some of you, finding the above terrifyingly beautiful, perhaps as terrifyingly beautiful as the cries of your firstborn child, will still be wise enough to send me not one cent. Consider this. Sending me all your finances would be, all in all, about as good a decision as offering me none of them.
I am, as best as you or anyone else you have met, a creation of god. Is it possible that I am his greatest prophet? Perhaps, perhaps not
Anyway, disregard that. Remember the story of Cain and Abel. Cain, offering a lesser sacrifice, killed his brother Abel for offering a greater sacrifice Oh, btw, I maintain to any of my closest fans that I am the happiest man alive. I am trying to share with you, as best I can, the key to that happiness. Moreover, I plead you to consider that, if anything I have ever said is true, it is that. Barthes once said, "The Author is Dead", or something to that effect, as best as anyone else in the world expressing moral relativism. God has also been put on humanity's hit-list, though I really have no idea if he's still alive. Only, my dear readers, who I love with all my heart, more than any but Edna St. Vincent Millay, if you kill him.
Consider, this too. I have declared, with all my heart, a love unrequited for Edna St Vincent Millay. If you gave me a time machine with the coordinates of her location, I would take the time machine, put in some explosives, and BLOW IT SKY HIGH MOTHERFUCKER. Why? Because I love her more than anything else. Also, because, long before I did, William Butler Yeats won her heart. I do not love him as much as her, but I would never kill a man, not even the one I hate most in the world (and yes, I do have a very special someone in mind, is it you?), for the sake of a woman, not even the purest, most beautiful, kindest, most intelligent of them all.
What evil dwells in the hearts of men? Only the shadow knows. Who is your shadow? Your dog? Your wife? Your child? I frankly have no idea. Whoever it is, treat them with the respect and love they deserve (IE: THE SAME AMOUNT YOU DO, THEY'RE YOUR GODDAMN SHADOW. STOP STEPPING ON THEM.)
(In the words of Gene Wolfe, author of the New Book of the Sun, I don't remember exactly where but I think it's when SeverIan steps out of the boat on his way to Buenos Aires, oops I mean Nessus, did I give you a clue? Well, the answer is Borges. Anyway, continuing onwards
If what I have said scares you even a little bit, go right now. Go out the door. Keep going. Keep going. DONT LOOK BACK. I mean it. DONT EVER LOOK BACK. Or forward. Or look at all. Gauge out your eyes. See, why didn't you stop reading?
Why are you still reading? Ok, you're still dumb enough to keep reading? If you're still reading, go and buy a gun. Find out where I live, if you check around enough anyone can tell you, I'm pretty sure I could figure out your address. Point a gun at my forehead. Identify to me your relationship with me, as best you can do it.
Why did I tell you to kill me? You're an adult. I trust you.
And to any of you who really understand everything I'm saying? Don't do anything about it. If you don't understand, take the man who killed me and craft him in my image. You'll fail utterly, but at least you'll have made a piss-poor effort to avenge my death, which is about as good a job as you've done raising your children you goddamn bastards (there's some poet who tells you not to have kids, because you'll fuck them up, shoulda read him, don't remember what his name is because I don't give a damn what his name is).
My first favorite poet is edna st vincent millay, my second is william butler yeats. Millay, I don't think you're ready for. Yeats once said "You cannot know the dancer from the dance."
Stand on one foot. Follow after me my nakama (I've never studied Japanese seriously, but here's the best translation, better than either a Japanese person or the foreigner who communicates with them best can give you: we're in the same boat, you and I), the greatest dancer you'll ever see.
Are you on one foot yet? Oh, come on. Rabbi Hillel, one of the greatest men of all time, made a mockery of himself and a genius of himself all at the same timee, you can do it too!
The whole of America is freedom: the rest is compromise. Go now and compromise.
I destroy, protect, and create the world anew. Every moment of my life. So do you. So do rocks on Mars. Find that appealing? Read Red Mars by Kim Stanley Robinson. The craziest woman in the book, don't remember her name, is also the sanest. She thinks that martian rocks are worth more, or at least as much, as we are. That they are worthy of preservation. Humanity, I hope you make it to Mars before I die. I don't particularly want to go, in fact I really don't give a shit if I ever do, but it's my favorite planet in the solar system.
Consider this. Moses, for all the crimes he committed, despite being a great leader of Judaism, was condemned to watch from afar as the jews entered the holy land. Now, though it is true that in his life, moses committed crimes equal to those of adolph hitler, so did all the jews he was leading. Most jews probably would think of this as a punishment.
It is my dearest hope that Moses, not appointed the patriarch of the Jews, relegated in terms of hierarchy to a subordinate role by some standards, was filled with the utmost joy, and not sorrow, as he watched the other jews, as guilty as he, crossing into the holy land.
OK. For those of you who have made it to the very end, a reward. I have a grain of sand from which I learned all the truths of the universe. Sheerly for historic value, I declare it mine and mine alone. If anyone tries to take it from me, and I survive the attempt, I will
BTW, above is essentially an attempt, at this point, to one-up Earnest Hemmingway (who wanted, stupidly and brilliantly enough, to settle things with a boxing match - GO EARNEST. BTW Earnest, why did you hate dos passos so much? Or did you love him as yourself?)
The above was just an extended metaphor. Think it's interesting? Go become fluent in Latin and read a speech by Cicero, and learn Greek and read a speech by Demosthenes. Compare the two. You'll get a lot more mileage out of that, and find immortality, paradise and everything else you've ever desired, than you will reading anything I say. I, my friends, have already pissed all over my territory, and no one else gets in. I bite.
Ok, it would be pretty awesome if everyone had read this far! Towards the end, I'm going to introduce to you someone else you should have been paying more attention to.
Let me explain to you, my nakama, my earliest memory. A child crying in the crib, I hear a plane roaring over head. Now, I don't know why that plane was flying over my house. Most likely, people had somewhere they wanted to go, and weren't thinking enough about what they were doing to everyone else. Or, maybe some sadistic person planning the airport decided that it would be funny to make the people of Harlingen hear a sound relatively similar to what the Japanese heard shortly before being vaporized by the a-bomb. (remember that technologically, we're way ahead of our emotions)
First place in the gr9 human race: Edna St Vincent Millay.
Second place: William Butler Yeats.
Third place: The rest of us.
Now, if you want to understand that, read Harold Bloom's Anatomy of Influence. He's a blowhard. Someone who shares my first name once accurately described him as being full of shit. But he's probably the most accessible way to understand why they scored first and second by my rankings. Yes, I've been keeping a very detailed score on each and every one of you >8888P
If you're too stupid to try and make sense of another human being's thoughts, then let's put it this way: the greatest poets hide their influences. Bloom, why did you say something like that? It's SUCH A BALD FACED LIE. Didn't you ever read Borges? And now I'm giving it to them, feeding it, stuffing them with it, and they don't even know that it's the second apple of wisdom.
*Puts on shades* YEEEAAAAH. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Horatio from CSI Miami. Take it away, Horatio! You're doing great! (this is the guy you should have been paying more attention to) Seriously, go make some more episodes of CSI Miami, NAOOOOOO. 100/10 for it.
Hot potato hot potato. Oof, it burned my hand. Better put a salve on it.
Oh, btw, what was the one thing you should have done? Get everyone to read this, and burn it after reading. Dharma-Shiva. Oops, I mean Bhrama *wink*. But I like Vishnu best.
One of my relatives seemed to think that Obama said something crazy. Don't remember what. But consider this. He hasn't nuked anyone yet. Going by america's track record, he's definitely not the worst.
Hehe, did you like it? I'm working on a book that should get it across better. Still trying to decide what should go in it, but it's going to finish with the statement that America is the best country in the world, the idea I find more beautiful than Edna St Vincent Millay.
BTW, as far as Edna St. Vincent Millay goes...if you gave me a time machine with her coordinates as she was writing my favorite poem by her (I, Being Born a Woman and Distressed), what I think is the most beautiful poem to articulate everything anyone, ever, has ever been through, what would I do? Blow it sky high. Why? True love. Riddle me that
Oh, one more thing. I'm worried some of you think I'm a moral relativist. Moral relativists are complete idiots. They got just about as far as I did, then, one step from the finish line, they gave up. And I, my friends, finished third along with the rest of you. So, is there such a thing as a moral relativist?
Syllogism:
Everything is relative.
The above is an absolute statement.
We can't be sure that everything is relative.
(not, by the syntax people generally use when focusing on crafting a very good syllogism, the best to follow. But, regardless of syntax, my favorite syllogism in the world.)
One more thing. Did you ever before suspect, even for one instant, that I was more aware than you, rather than less, of what was going on in the world? Well, you were, essentially, if you never did, treating me like a child when I was 22 years old. I have codes of conduct for how to treat adults - i.e., with the respect they deserve. I have spent my entire life trying to appraise what degree of respect they deserve. Maybe you, if you saw me as your child, should put some together for yourself.
(Oh, btw, this is only true if you saw me in particular as your child. If you attempted to take, equally, every person in the world as a child...)
OK. If anyone knows the name of the musician, give it to me. There's some song about fathers and sons, and, in the lyrics, there's one line...
If you attempt to take, equally, every person in the world as your child,
WELL THEN YOU'RE DOING PRETTY GOOD
KID
JUST LIKE YOUR DADDY/MOMMY [my addition, for those who were blessed or cursed enough to have them both] DID
What do you think? You have some thoughts on that?
