SPLUT!

That's right, I'm citing the pie-in-face "sound" from the Garfield comics. Because that's how this blog will come out, I think. I have a few things to say, but haven't given over the time and thought to an actual post* (usually, when you read a post here, it's something I've thought about for days, and written, then revised, then edited over an hour or two). I also have the sneaking suspicion that things might get said that I don't even anticipate. But the main reason I feel this is a SPLUT! is because there's no structure. It's going nowhere. I just don't want to lose what's been on my mind. There are at least two subjects to address, and I feel they'll intersect, but I cannot tell how.

Scott told me last week to read Vote for Larry. "It's what would happen if you ran for president," he said. I picked it up, and I read it in four days (not counting Sunday). And he was right. I imagine it would have been almost exactly like that book.
I remembered as I started reading it, that this had once been my ambition. I had never given half a flip about politics, I couldn't even feign interest, until I heard Howard Dean speak at Castleton in September 2004. That was a huge turning point for me. When I returned from VT, I began executing a plan, and if I'd stuck with it I would be running for Senate right now. (How crazy is that to think about? Today could be thirteen days until my election!) I was planning to run for president in 2012 (ahem, the end of the world).
So the book was awesome, because it not only followed the framework I anticipated, but followed the course all the way to the end (which I never dared to even imagine). It was like having the experience without having to actually do it. (In most cases the not-doing would be frustrating; the only reason I'm willing to accept it here is because it's an experience I've decided not to have).

I mentioned it to Leslie, and she said she'd vote for me. I pried, and she elaborated: she said she thought I'd be much less selfish that others running, and in regards to my argument that I felt like I would make a mess out of it, having no actual experience, she said she thought, in the end, intention is more powerful than skill.
Yeah? But isn't the road to Hell paved with good intentions? However, the book very nearly convinced me to vote, and after that text-relay with LG I was almost ready to join the race all over again.

Over there to the left of the blog, I've got a twitter feed. It's what I use to blog when I'm not at a computer, basically. It's limited to 140 characters per entry, and so I find myself really using my imagination and vocabulary to say what I want in such a short space. It's like writing haiku, really. So I tried to formulate what was going through my head. And this is where twitter is a very useful tool: when I experiment with different phrasing, and with synonyms, when I find what works, I end up dismissing a lot of nearly-working words and phrases. And it's by looking at what doesn't work and examining why that I get a better understanding of what I'm thinking.

This is what I started with: "I was going to run for president. Do I believe in something bigger, or do I just imagine it's bigger? No, I think the presidency is small potatoes."
This is what I ended up with: "I know better than to run for president. I'm running for something bigger, right?"
This second version (which is really a third of fourth version) actually represents what I think. Thing is, yes, I think shaking up the system would do the system some good. But... so what? I explained a while back that I wouldn't take the position of manager ever again** because in doing so I would agree to seriously prioritize the concerns of the company for whom I worked, which would be problematic. Same thing if I were President. I would take the job entirely seriously (more seriously than most Presidents ever have, I daresay). I think I'm actually against what most people want. However it's intended to be a system by the people and for the people, and I would adopt that view. I honestly and (though these words may suggest otherwise) humbly believe I could rock your American socks off. I think many people would see it as a good thing.
Sure, the system could benefit from shaking up... but why benefit a system I don't believe in?

When I say something like that, I usually get responses as though I'd said, "I think the system is flawed." A lot of, 'Yeah, I know the system's not perfect, but it can't get any better if we never try,' and the like. But that's not what I'm saying. I actually think the system is stronger and healthier than do most people I talk to. And even if it were perfect, I still wouldn't believe in it, because I believe the system itself is the problem, not it's flaws. What? Yeah, here's news for ya: with the exception of the electoral college, ** I think the system actually is perfect.

But I digress.

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Here's the other thing.****
I have a tendency to fall into patterns, and this is something I notice in more ways than I care to take the time to describe. In an email timestamped 19:35 17 Sept 07, I wrote, "I find myself being too much of a smart ass at times. The tendency grows, and occasionally I need to lose my sense of humor for a week or risk losing friends." I wanted to pull out an old reference rather than to explain it here-and-now, because I hope this will make sense, rather than simply serving as an excuse.

First of all, why do I do this? I know why: because it works. See, I put myself into a new situation (let's say, "moving to Seattle & getting a new job"), and one of the ways I deal with nervousness is to make jokes. After a while, I put my attitude on auto-pilot (wit requires thinking, but I could do better to focus my thinking elsewhere; however the smart-ass comments are how I communicate with people, see?). See what I've done there? This worked, and so I set it as a constant, rather than a thoughtful connection. That allows me to apply my mind to something else... and once that's established, I set another "constant," and move on, constantly making progress by standing on the shoulders of my former-self.
And I do this with everything, eventually. Smart-ass comments, relationships, driving, conversations, and on and on.

My base is that I care about people. When people form a favorable opinion of me, I believe it's because of this. But then I set up my autopilots, I form concepts. Because I do this, I'm able to set out at work opening boxes and letting my mind wander onto Things To Say (remember when I said the blogs I post take me days?), Ways To Help People See Beyond Their Own Concepts, and things like that. As I wrote in an email timestamped 02:17 21 Oct 08, "Lately it's been increasingly clear that I've neglected the care I used to connect with people. I don't listen well. I don't simply contact somebody to remind them that I am interested in their well-being. It's like being the kind of father has no time for his children, because he's so busy working all of the time, and [...] his real and entire motivation is their well-being." I care about you, but I'm too goddamned busy to show you. The result is, even though my brain is thinking, all the external world sees is a smart-ass who talks constantly without thinking at all about what he's saying.
Which is to say, Scott (and everyone else, really), I'm sorry about things I said while I was in Tennessee. I wasn't thinking when I said them, and therefore they reflected no actual thought at all.

That was point A.
Point B is, I can't have faith in "the system," because it requires thinking and acting in this way, by relying on this thinking in concepts.
Point C is, I think everybody behaves and progresses in this way, and even though it feels like a lot of progress is made, it's really only detrimental because
Point D is, I care about you (everyone), and feel it is disrespectful to take that for granted for even a moment.

THANK YOU, AND GOOD NIGHT.

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* Of course, having said that... this entry took 1h53m to compose.

** (P.S., I'm entertaining the idea of being a manager by the end of the year. But that is another story for another time.)

*** In his new book, John Hodgman discusses the Electoral College; he says that while the campus itself is nice, the town of Electoral is actually a "shit-hole."

**** (It's kind-of the same thing.)