Willful Mysteries

[Eater of Clowns]

Mickey is nearing thirty and his roommate is moving out on him, in with his long time girlfriend.  He's working three jobs and can barely make their meager rent, so there's no way he'll be able to afford living solo or find a cheaper place.  So he's moving back home.  We're not exactly living in Manhattan - so why can't this dude pay for rent?

Alex has a lovely wife, two kids, and a spotless little home on a nice street.  And he's fucking miserable.  He comes into work 30 hours of overtime, at least, every week.  He pulls in good money, and yet he claims he's always broke, so this overtime is necessary.

Jeanine attends weight watchers meetings.  Like her strictly catholic upbringing dictates, she's guilty as hell when that weekly weigh-in doesn't go down, and she hates herself for it.

All three of these people have something in common.  I actually know all three of these people, and I do think quite highly of them.  I'm incredulous as to how they can convince themselves that they can't afford to pay rent or work reasonable hours.

Mickey and Alex are similar.  Both of them, several times in the same conversation, have stated their precise problems and not even realized it.  Mickey bought $200 worth of comic books last week.  Alex just bought a $400 watch on eBay, and sold it for profit - which he will then put into another watch, and another, and he doesn't always break even on them.

I think Jeanine has it toughest.  She's a sensitive one, and not a very strong one either.  She did great in the weight loss program overall, she really did.  Yet now that she's maintaining instead of losing, every week it's the same song and dance:  there was candy or cookies someone brought into work and she couldn't stop eating them.  So she's down as hell on herself for it, and she feels bad for the rest of the week instead, well, just not eating them.  But it's the wording here that's frustrating:  she couldn't stop, or it's her co-workers' fault for tempting her with the garbage she shouldn't eat.

It opens up infinite avenues of debate, of course, on the addictive nature of eating or buying things, as well as the entire process of losing weight.  That isn't the issue here.  The issue is that we have people who convince themselves that their money somehow just disappears, or that the scale goes up of its own accord, and their quality of life suffers from it.

Losing the freedom of your own space, sacrificing the entirety of your life to your job, feeling bad about eating crap you shouldn't - they're the prices paid for a comic book, a watch, a cookie.  I actually have nothing personal against this, so long as you are actively willing to pay that price.  If you think "well if I buy this booze, I'm going to get fat from the calories and broke from the cost," you need to be okay with the consequences of that before you go through with it.  Props to you.

The alternative is creating a willful mystery.  You refuse to face the sad facts that a short term poor decision has long term consequences.

[Sister Fracture]

Pretty much the human condition, willful mystery.

[Eater of Clowns]

Pretty much the human condition, willful mystery.

I'd be happy to tally every bit of stupidity I see as part of the human condition.  The obvious shortcoming is that there isn't enough chalk or blackboard space in the world to carry those hash marks.

[Phox]

Pretty much the human condition, willful mystery.

This. But I completely agree with your sentiments, EoC.

Pretty much the human condition, willful mystery.

I'd be happy to tally every bit of stupidity I see as part of the human condition.  The obvious shortcoming is that there isn't enough chalk or blackboard space in the world to carry those hash marks.

[Sister Fracture]

Pretty much the human condition, willful mystery.

I'd be happy to tally every bit of stupidity I see as part of the human condition.  The obvious shortcoming is that there isn't enough chalk or blackboard space in the world to carry those hash marks.

I should have expanded my idea, lol. Yes, it's overcomeable, but people are fucking lazy, and don't want to change, so they ignore their shortcomings and everything becomes a "mystery", hah.

[Eater of Clowns]

Pretty much the human condition, willful mystery.

This. But I completely agree with your sentiments, EoC.

Pretty much the human condition, willful mystery.

I'd be happy to tally every bit of stupidity I see as part of the human condition.  The obvious shortcoming is that there isn't enough chalk or blackboard space in the world to carry those hash marks.

I don't speak binary, but I'm pretty sure if you spelled out all the lines it would say "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..."

[Eater of Clowns]

Pretty much the human condition, willful mystery.

I'd be happy to tally every bit of stupidity I see as part of the human condition.  The obvious shortcoming is that there isn't enough chalk or blackboard space in the world to carry those hash marks.

I should have expanded my idea, lol. Yes, it's overcomeable, but people are fucking lazy, and don't want to change, so they ignore their shortcomings and everything becomes a "mystery", hah.

I gotcha - otherwise "the human condition" could really be the response to all of OKM.

Overcoming shortcomings is a very difficult thing to do.  It begins by admitting that you aren't perfect and that you have an actual ability to change your life, which violates models of learned helplessess and ego and blah blah psychology.  But when there's a receipt in your hand for the entire series of Sandman, awesome as it may be, it takes a specal kind of deliberate distancing from that event to later claim to have no knowledge of where your money went.

[Cuddlefish]

Your first two friends, the ones that "don't have enough money," well, they really piss me off. No offense (or, as little as possible), but that type of person REALLY pisses me off.

I'm poor. Fo' reelz po'. I don't complain, or I try not to, but when people that spend 300 bucks on comics (or, my drummer who insists on driving a fancy schmancy car) complains, TO ME, mind you, about not having enough money, well, I find it to be really offensive. It really pisses me off when I say something about not having money, and my "pal" with the fancy car goes: "I hear ya."

No. You fucking don't.

I don't have money, but not because I've made irresponsible spending decisions. I got chewed up and spit out by the industry I trained hard to be a part of, got ground down by the "state" to a position where I could do little more than nothing, as they made sure I had NO resources to work with, and have been struggling for years to get back on my feet. When these spoiled ass-holes minimize my situation, or try to compare their cushy situation with mine, I have to suppress the rage to rip their fucking faces off. Fo' reelz. Walk a fucking mile in my shoes, and tell me your really happy to have your car or comic books.

"I hear ya'." Fuck you.

Thing is, in the end, my poverty level has done a lot of really positive things for me, and now I kind of pity people like your inconsiderate, irresponsible friends, and my spoiled drummer, who think material possessions and status necessarily equate to success. I no longer have a desire to "keep up with the Jones's," (because that's a race you'll NEVER win) or "have" all sorts of shit that doesn't mean anything. Plus, I qualify for crazy financial aid, to a point where I am now a "professional student," and I have the ability to keep my grades (way) up and keep the flow (more of a trickle, but it's enough for me) of money coming in.

EoC, nothing against you (you know I love ya'  ) but tell your whiny friends to man the fuck up and deal. Tell them that every time they bitch about money, that they have a job and resources that not everybody has access to. tell them every time they complain, they insult everyone that REALLY IS struggling. Tell them, for me, to Fuck Off and Die.

Sorry, but this touched a nerve.

[Cuddlefish]

Oh, yeah:

Or Kill Me

[Phox]

Your first two friends, the ones that "don't have enough money," well, they really piss me off. No offense (or, as little as possible), but that type of person REALLY pisses me off.

I'm poor. Fo' reelz po'. I don't complain, or I try not to, but when people that spend 300 bucks on comics (or, my drummer who insists on driving a fancy schmancy car) complains, TO ME, mind you, about not having enough money, well, I find it to be really offensive. It really pisses me off when I say something about not having money, and my "pal" with the fancy car goes: "I hear ya."

No. You fucking don't.

I don't have money, but not because I've made irresponsible spending decisions. I got chewed up and spit out by the industry I trained hard to be a part of, got ground down by the "state" to a position where I could do little more than nothing, as they made sure I had NO resources to work with, and have been struggling for years to get back on my feet. When these spoiled ass-holes minimize my situation, or try to compare their cushy situation with mine, I have to suppress the rage to rip their fucking faces off. Fo' reelz. Walk a fucking mile in my shoes, and tell me your really happy to have your car or comic books.

"I hear ya'." Fuck you.

Thing is, in the end, my poverty level has done a lot of really positive things for me, and now I kind of pity people like your inconsiderate, irresponsible friends, and my spoiled drummer, who think material possessions and status necessarily equate to success. I no longer have a desire to "keep up with the Jones's," (because that's a race you'll NEVER win) or "have" all sorts of shit that doesn't mean anything. Plus, I qualify for crazy financial aid, to a point where I am now a "professional student," and I have the ability to keep my grades (way) up and keep the flow (more of a trickle, but it's enough for me) of money coming in.

EoC, nothing against you (you know I love ya'  ) but tell your whiny friends to man the fuck up and deal. Tell them that every time they bitch about money, that they have a job and resources that not everybody has access to. tell them every time they complain, they insult everyone that REALLY IS struggling. Tell them, for me, to Fuck Off and Die.

Sorry, but this touched a nerve.

Phox,
Hears ya. Fo' reelz.

[Eater of Clowns]

Oh, yeah:

Or Kill Me

HAH!  First one's a friend, and yeah I like the guy but this is a pretty dumb thing to complain about.  His own brother actually said something along the lines of:  I hate it when people complain about not having money and I see them spending it.  It's like, I have no money, but that's because I spend it on booze, so I'm not going to complain about it because that's the decision I made.  On the plus side, I get to borrow the $200 worth of comics that he buys.

The second one is just a pain in the ass co-worker.  He's an alright guy, but he complains about everything, and his case is far worse:  he spends far more money, and the amount of overtime he worked for a while was visibly destroying him as a human being.

Third one's a family member.   

Letting you know that I am not offended if someone I know's actions piss you off, though.  They piss me off, that's the purpose of this whole thing.

[Triple Zero]

EoC I need to tattoo this on the inside of my eyelids or something.

It's not money in my case, I don't need much and I get by with what I have [and on top of that even save a littlebit]. It's been much worse, but (I guess) nowhere near like what Phox and Dimo describe.

No, with me it's time that's slipping from my fingers, that I can't seem to get a grasp on. And I know where all my time goes, but only in hindsight. It's pretty much the same situation as the people you describe, except with time instead of money or calories.

I suppose I am in a better position to recognize something's up and start making some changes in my life. But it's harder than you think. Or maybe it's actually quite easy but I'm just not very good at it, or doing it wrong.

[Phox]

I'll be the first to say, I'm not nearly as bad off as I could be. Time or money-wise. But when I was a kid, we were poor as hell. I didn't even have a computer in my house until 2002. The early 90s really don't seem so bad to me, but then, I was a kid. I remember sitting in front of a 12 in. TV next to a tiny space heater, eating government cheese sandwiches. I remember my mother going to WIC when my younger brother was born. I remember food stamps. I remember counting pennies with my mom before we went to the store, and if we didn't have enough looking for more. So yeah. It was pretty fucking bad, looking back. It started to get better around the mid 90s.

But you'll never hear me complain that I don't have enough money. I've got food everyday and a roof over my head. A jacket without holes, and a coat actually heavy enough for the winter. I've got more pairs of shoes than I really need, and a closet and dresser full of comparatively nice clothes. I've got cable TV I have the luxury of never watching, and I have high-speed internet. I have enough money to buy gas to get to where I need to go, and take Sunday drives on the weekends, if I feel like it. If I feel like it, I can go blow $20 on some stupid frivolity and still pay my bills this month. I've got a phone in my pocket, and a phone on my desk. I've got three nice guitars and some expensive amps and recording equipment.

I'm well off. I can live like this. Hell, I can live comfortably like this. But I do remember a time when I didn't have most of that, and I remember when there was a chance of losing what little we did have, when my dad got injured at his job. So... I hear ya, Dimo. I hear ya. I walked a mile in your shoes, and then a little extra just for the hell of it. So I hear ya. Fo' reelz.

[Luna]

I've been broke.  I've been "god, if I ever see another Ramen Noodle, I'm going to puke" broke.  It's better now, and is just going to get better once I find my feet after this move. 

Meanwhile I got treated to a whine from my soon-to-be-ex-husband that he's broke.  Maybe if he wasn't buying the whore lobster dinners, he'd have money to pay the cable bill.

[Richter]

::

This reminds me that despite fancy sharp things I drool at, the ones I actually use the most are cheap, solidly made hunks of old leaf spring that I'm not afraid to pound, abuse, and resharpen with a bastard file in the midle of a chore.  Hopefully I'm sensible enough to apply this logic to the rest of my life.