Eulogy

[The Good Reverend Roger]

This is probably going to piss a few people off, and there's not a lot of shit here that you haven't already heard, but I'm going to be completely insufferable until I get it off my chest.  Call it part of the grieving process, if you will.  It is a eulogy in three parts, and once it's done, I think I can let things rest.

Scientists are born to pry, and doctors to heal.  Soldiers, on the other hand, are born to do other things.  My family have always been soldiers...Until my generation, they were Canadian soldiers who – for the most part – merely did whatever they had to do, and then went back to their farms and factories.  Honorable men, by and large.  My brother and I, well, we served in the US military, as does my son.  And what we did was ensure that brown people in unfurnished countries didn't get in the way while the USA stole shit from them.

The fact is, if you scratch at America too hard, you'll find a swastika under the bunting and the flags and the cheap paint job.  This isn't hyperbole, as any Native American can tell you, if he knows anything about his peoples' history, or the present living conditions of the majority of her people.  I'd like to say that I joined up while mystified by tales of glory and patriotism, but this is a time for Truth, isn't it?  And the Truth is, I just liked to fight. 

And in the final analysis, what did I fight for?  That's a bit of a no-brainer.  I fought so that the looting could continue, so that twenty-something middle class college students in the world's top 3-4 percentile of living standards could snivel about privilege from the safety and comfort of their own homes or dorms.  And before anyone starts screaming about how hard their life was, let me tell you to shut the fuck up.  Go visit Panama or the Sinai, and then come back and tell me how rough your fucking life is.  Anyone in those places would trade all their tomorrows for your worst day.

In fact, the only people who have the chops to talk about privilege here are Cain, who has the education to see what the world is like (if not the direct experience), ECH - who can't SEE it – but who has a gift for slicing through bullshit, and Nigel, who fits in every single category of the bottom shelf...Single mother, female,  Black/Hispanic/Native American, poor (by any "reasonable" American standard).

And Nigel...Well, she's the point of this whole exercise, isn't it?  I have not come to talk trash about her.  She is still, in my estimation, one of the finest people I've ever met.  But events have caught up with us, so to speak.  In fact, the only thing I have to say about the whole situation is that – at some point – she took my willingness to bend for obsequiousness.  After the current ridiculous bullshit, she decided that a condition of her friendship was that I accept that she had lost all respect for me. 

Given that friendship is a condition, and one of that condition's prerequisites is mutual respect, that friendship isn't possible.  Unreciprocated respect is in fact a prerequisite for being a groupie, or perhaps a dog.  The odd thing is that she already has a dog, so I am unsure why she needed me to fill that role.  I am also unsure how such a small argument could lead to the end of a six-year friendship, but there you have it.  I wish her well, I hope she makes a full recovery from her surgery, and I hope her ongoing education leads to a better life for her and her children.  But as far as friendship?  If I was willing to accept that condition, I wouldn't be the kind of friend she wants or needs.

Needless to say, I'm not happy about all this...But what can I do?  Not much, unfortunately, and nothing that would do anything but make the situation worse, because I am one kind of person and Nigel is another kind of person, and we find ourselves in a situation in which neither personality type can budge.  It's very sad. 

¹

Well, enough about that.  On to part three.

I've spoken in the past about anchors, chains, and tethers.  It is in TYFS, if I recall correctly, if anyone's interested.  The fact is, I've lost a tether...And, like my friend Alty, I never had a lot of those to begin with.  And with the lack of that tether, I find myself adrift.  The thin smears of shit I had painted on myself in a weak attempt to change are all blowing away.  I once told Paesior that I was trying to be a better person.  I have failed in this.

All the personas I have adopted – TGRR, Doktor Howl, etc – were attempts at new "reality tunnels" with which to tunnel my way out of my own Black Iron Prison.  All were, in the end, futile, and I am still in my cage...With all the monsters of my past that wear my face.  Those faces are all of different ages, but they all have the same thing to say to me:  "We told you so."  And they're right, of course.  I am what I am, and you can't run away from what you are, given that the legs you run with are part of what you're running from.

So it is, I think, time to stop lying to myself, time to stop living in fantasy worlds of redemption and instead just be myself, with my pants around my ankles and my crazy hanging out.  Time to stop breathing in the farts of others, ephemeral crap like "privilege" or "prison breaks" or whatever the fuck it is I've allowed myself to jabber about.

So let's just shovel a little dirt on the grave of a long friendship and also that of a stupid bastard who thought there was something better for him on this garbage heap, this fundamentally sick graveyard world that will lie to you simply for the purpose of breaking your heart, if you're foolish enough to grow one.  Let's shovel a little dirt on the pleasing lies and social fictions that serve no purpose other than to get you to sit down and shut up. 

And then let's leave the graveside, and maybe go get a beer or two. 

P3nt, you better stand your round, you Scots bastard, because if I'm drinking with you, we're splitting the tab, you Goddamn walking wet/dry vac.

Nuff Said.  Good luck.






ETA:  Something just occurred to me...The above rant could be taken to mean I'm blaming Nigel for the whole "loss of a tether" thing.  I'm not.  She is not responsible for me or my manner of thinking.  I am.

¹  This was basically a gigantic misconception based on mutual rage and shitty fucking timing on facebook.

[LMNO]

Was that a goodbye to the forums, or to a part of yourself that strived for change?

Wait a second.  Did you say up there that you were done with change and improvement?  The hell, dude, you fix things that break for a living, and you're gonna ignore yourself?

[P3nT4gR4m]

Anytime you're in my neck of the woods I'll toast your health as we poison ourselves half to death!

Don't give up on being able to change. The human psyche is a flimsy conglomerate of reptilian impulses and high falutin  meta consciousness that's managed to convince itself it has a fuckload more integrity than any evidence would indicate.

The hard part is letting go.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Was that a goodbye to the forums, or to a part of yourself that strived for change?

The latter.  I am what I am.  As for leaving PD, yuo cannot move knees enough.

Wait a second.  Did you say up there that you were done with change and improvement?  The hell, dude, you fix things that break for a living, and you're gonna ignore yourself?

There comes a time when a piece of equipment is beyond repair.  At that point, you just run it until it pukes.  I'm tired, LMNO.  I've run and I've run and I'm right the fuck back where I started.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Anytime you're in my neck of the woods I'll toast your health as we poison ourselves half to death!

You're on.

Don't give up on being able to change. The human psyche is a flimsy conglomerate of reptilian impulses and high falutin  meta consciousness that's managed to convince itself it has a fuckload more integrity than any evidence would indicate.

The hard part is letting go.

True, and for some that might work.  I might even change my mind at some point.  But where I am NOW, that isn't possible.

[hooplala]

This was a heartbreaking post Roger, and I sincerely hope it is not actually the end of your friendship.  Beers in the frozen north whenever you are able.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

This was a heartbreaking post Roger, and I sincerely hope it is not actually the end of your friendship.  Beers in the frozen north whenever you are able.

Thanks, I'll probably take you up on that next year.




Also, something just occurred to me...The above rant could be taken to mean I'm blaming Nigel for the whole "loss of a tether" thing.  I'm not.  She is not responsible for me or my manner of thinking.  I am.

[East Coast Hustle]

Welcome to the sea, Brother Roger. We've lost the lifeboats, but I managed to snag a barrel of grog from the wreckage. It's weird, though. I though I could use it as a flotation device. But the more I empty it, the lower it sits in the water.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Welcome to the sea, Brother Roger. We've lost the lifeboats, but I managed to snag a barrel of grog from the wreckage. It's weird, though. I though I could use it as a flotation device. But the more I empty it, the lower it sits in the water.

There are many strange animals in the sea, Brother ECH...But you are by far the strangest.   

[Salty]

Well said.

I'll be untangling the mess in my head for a while.

[East Coast Hustle]

Welcome to the sea, Brother Roger. We've lost the lifeboats, but I managed to snag a barrel of grog from the wreckage. It's weird, though. I though I could use it as a flotation device. But the more I empty it, the lower it sits in the water.

There are many strange animals in the sea, Brother ECH...But you are by far the strangest.   

I think I've had my fill of drifting. Thing is, you can't escape the sea just by getting out of the ocean.

[Suu]

Not entirely sure what to say about this yet...however, the first word that comes to my mind is, remarkably, "Thanks." Not, "I will miss you" or "you should do this/that" or "don't give up, we're all here for you!" It's just, "Thank you."

For some reason, that makes more sense than anything.

[Epimetheus]

A very intense post..I'm speechless. A lot to digest in those words.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Not entirely sure what to say about this yet...however, the first word that comes to my mind is, remarkably, "Thanks." Not, "I will miss you" or "you should do this/that" or "don't give up, we're all here for you!" It's just, "Thank you."

For some reason, that makes more sense than anything.

For what?

El Presidente,
Honestly puzzled.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Welcome to the sea, Brother Roger. We've lost the lifeboats, but I managed to snag a barrel of grog from the wreckage. It's weird, though. I though I could use it as a flotation device. But the more I empty it, the lower it sits in the water.

There are many strange animals in the sea, Brother ECH...But you are by far the strangest.   

I think I've had my fill of drifting. Thing is, you can't escape the sea just by getting out of the ocean.

Yeah, well, to stretch the metaphor, I need to drift for a while.