How many times throughout your life have you heard that phrase? Kids today. Normally it is used derisively against whoever the "kid" is. Also, have you noticed that people are real fluid in their definitions of kid vs adult, old vs young when it comes to themselves. Just an observation I'm not sure where it fits into this but its been on my mind so there it is.
Its especially true of those of the population my age and younger. I'm 41 and for the sake of argument I could probably be representative of most people up to age 45. Then those kids younger than me. Millennial I believe they're called. But it seems like no one at the older end of that generation wants to be associated with them. Have you noticed that? Its not all of them. Just the old ones. You know the ones who were almost in the previous generation but missed it by a year or two on the cut off?
Also, who the hell picks the dates on these generations? I can't figure out what they use as the criteria. A major event? Just a random date. A epoch distance from one fixed point in time? Fucked if I know.
For the sake of today's diatribe we're going to use the above chart. Why? The incredibly scientific method of it was the first one I saw when I googled "define the generations", and surprisingly enough it fits very nicely with my view of myself and the world. (Define confirmation bias) Plus its the Pew Research Center. I've heard of them before.
But I want to talk about the people who were born between say 1981-1985. These people are now 34-38 years old. I've got a lot of friends in this age group. One night at a bar with my brother someone was talking about this shit and he got real defensive about not being a millenial. He had no interest in being one. Which I suppose I can understand, at least from where I sit the vast majority of press on millenials is negative. But it doesn't take a rocket surgeon to figure out that this is the never ending story. Every generation thinks the one that came before and the one that comes after are shit. The only generation that's worth a damn is the one you're in. Except them guys that fought WWII they're exempt from all this shit, cuz everyone knows they're the best...except for the fact that the baby boomers are 100% all their fault.
But I still didn't know what to do with the whole, "I hate my own generation" thing. I suppose since I'm a generation Xer, it doesn't faze me all that much. I mean they've made TV shows about my childhood now (The Goldbergs) and the consensus is that my childhood pretty much rocked. *I have some issues with that, but on the whole for the generation its true.
Plus, we're the generation who were the last to live when there wasn't a computer in every fucking pocket. The machines didn't run my life from jump street. I mean they do now, but it didn't start off that way. I wonder if there's a certain amount of intergenerational jealousy because we actually know what its like to live in a world without smart phones? Maybe I'm nuts. Or I'm trying to justify my own feelings of superiority. Could be, but it doesn't change the fact that at least in my experience those kids born 1981-1985 are the only people who will argue with you about what generation they're in. I've rambled long enough. Looking back, I really need to start structuring my posts some kind of way. This stream of consciousness shit is exhausting...
I've been wondering why I always feel stuck. This has been a recurring theme with me over the years. I mean, I never quite feel like I'm progressing towards my goals the way I should be, or at the speed that I feel I should be.
Does anyone? Yes, I'm certain of it. There's a small subset of people out there who get up each morning and do the things that they want to do and get the things done that they need to get done and move forward in their lives at a formidable pace. They have to be out there...I know because I'm typing this on a computer hooked to the internet through a VPN that is pretending my computer is in Sydney, Australia. I mean if that's not proof enough I don't know what is.
So, they exist. We know this. All human progress has rested on their very capable shoulders. Now here I am thinking that I don't belong where I'm at and that I have no business being who I am and doing what I do. By that I mean, I have what some might call a fraud issue. I keep thinking that I'm a fraud. I suppose at some level I know that I'm not. I mean I put in the time to get where I am. I did the work. I learned what I needed to learn. But there's always this nagging feeling inside that I don't belong. That something is going to come up that shows everyone around me that I am not good enough for this. That they made a mistake elevating me to this position. I don't have the goods to bring home the bacon.
I'm a father. I'm a veteran. I'm an educated man. Partially anyway. I've made it to a point at work where I'm listened to. My opinion is respected. My words are heeded. And for the life of me I cannot figure out why anyone would listen to me for anything at all...
I suppose that's where my fraud trouble comes in. I cannot understand how I got here. I sometimes think that its all a joke. That Drew Carey is going to walk around the corner and I'll find out that I've been a really bad reality TV show for the past 12 years. Hell, the past 41 years.
But we all know that's bullshit. Not to say that you can't make it being a fraud, I mean what's the guy's name from "Catch Me If You Can"? That son of a bitch faked his way through almost everything. So its not like it can't be done, but I do know that I'm not smart enough to have faked it. Not for this long anyway.
Like so many of us, I think I run into my issues when I start comparing myself to the few instead of either not comparing myself to anyone but my former self, or at least comparing myself to the unwashed masses as opposed to the small sliver of exceptional people who are the subject of my comparisons.
So and so graduated from Harvard at 11, I can barely find Harvard on a map. So and so was the worlds youngest billionaire, I can barely keep my checking account in the black. So and so won the olympic whatever the fuck, and I get winded running up the stairs.
Maybe I should be happy I graduated from a college. Maybe not one that is known the world over, but it had books and professors. Maybe I should be happy I've got an income. I may not have bankers throwing hookers through my bedroom window for business, but when I need something I can get it. I won't win any Olympic medals in this lifetime, but maybe I should be happy that my legs work to get my fat ass up the stairs in the first place, and be glad I'm winded as opposed to all those poor bastards who have breathed their last wind.
Ha, I bet with that title you thought I was going to write something about
drugs. Well, I'm not. I'm going to writing about the very basic, freshman
(maybe even remedial) level chemistry course that I am taking from the
University of Wisconsin that is currently kicking my ass up and down the halls
of higher learning.
First things first, I think it’s awesome that in today's world I can start a
course in Illinois, keep working on it in Michigan and then in Pennsylvania,
and when I finish it my certificate will come from Wisconsin. I've covered damn
near the entire Big 10 just with this class.
Anyway, Its a 100-level course. It should be easy. But it’s not. I'm sure
I'm not dumb. At least that's what I keep telling myself. But the proof is in
the pudding and Avogadro’s number is fucking up my pudding man!
So, I'm currently trying to sort out how to convert between mols and atoms,
mass and mols, mass, mols and atoms, molar mass, compound molar mass and some
other shit that has graciously slipped my mind. Stoichiometry which I know is a
word, but apparently but the dictionary on this program doesn't think so.
Now here I sit with my periodic table, and my print outs of the book and my
subscription to Chegg which is basically a service designed to pay someone else
to answer your homework. Fucking brilliant. I wish we had that when I was in
high school. Probably would’ve been a game changer. Then again I might have
just been really lazy and not done a damn thing with it. Luckily I’m an adult
now and I have to pay for this shit, so I do the work.
Okay, that might be a little bit of bullshit. I did have to purchase an
extension. So, I do the work, but I must pay extra for more time. I’m not going
to say that it’s a good thing that such a mechanism exists, but I suppose given
that it’s a 100 level course and I’m not going to be put in charge of the formula
for the rocket fuel that’s going to get us to Mars I think it’s a forgivable
sin.
Needless to say, and this is question that has been rolling around in my
head for a while. I haven’t bothered to even attempt to try to ascertain the
answer since it involves chemistry and I imagine that it would hurt my feeble
little mind even further. But here’s the question….
Avogadro’s number is the number of particles in one mole of any substance. It’s
a gigantic number. For example, one mol of pencil erasers would cover the
entire earth’s surface to a depth of 500 meters. THAT IS ABSOLUTELY INSANE!!!
Now how in the hell did he figure that out in 1811 (Avogadro’s constant) and
how the hell did they update it to Avogadro’s number in 1909?
We have computers that can-do math that no human could do. They can do math
in an instant that there’s not enough paper at Staples to write out by hand.
Does anyone think about this kind of stuff, or are you guys smart enough to avoid
the headache?
When you just got to let it go. There's no real sense in hanging on to it. Whatever it is. In my case, its my ridiculous idea that my family could ever be normal. Quote, unquote. Now I'm not talking in the cliche sense that some people have of "why would you want to be normal?" That sort of shit.
I'm talking about just seeing the world in a way that makes sense to me currently. Not something that I have to work at, or learn new things for, or possibly do things that normally I wouldn't do. I don't want to have to read books and be in therapy to get my brain wrapped around the situation in which I currently find myself.
Its time for me to let that shit go. Its time for me to let this guy that I've become go. For fucks sake I haven't felt like myself in years. I'm walking around not knowing who the fuck I am or where the fuck to go. Because I'm clinging ever so tightly to something that is just a figment of my imagination, a ghost if you will.
Now how does one let go of something that has come to define them? I didn't want it to define me. There was a time when I was light. There was a time when I could float. There was a time when life did not weigh on my brow. There was a time when my hair wasn't white. For fucks sake, I'm 41 and my hair is fucking white. Part of that is bad genes, but the other part is worry.
My entire body is falling apart. I can barely get up the stairs. I'm winded when I do. I am shaving years off my life and its the only one that I know for sure I get.
I have to get out from under this weight. I have to find my way back...nay...out from under this weight.
Okay, so I'm here. I'm chilling in an Airbnb in Scranton, and I've been here long enough now that I'm praying for work. I know that sounds a little off my rocker, but there's only so much sitting a guy can do. And since my kids aren't here, there's nothing but time. You never realize just how much of your life those little turds dominate until all of a sudden you don't have them around anymore.
I start work Monday. a single question has come to dominate my mind. I plan on spending approximately 18 months to 2 years here without my family. I plan on going home regularly. Which will most likely be incredibly expensive but it is what it is.
Now the question I have is simply this, how am I going to be able to navigate these waters away from my family for the lovely reasons I have proffered in the past and manage to come out the other end without being bitter and resentful? I'm not sure I can. I hope that I can. But I'll be damned if I know how the hell I'm going to do it.
Which does nothing for me but lead to more questions. What if I like it without them around? What if they like it without me around? What if I can't deal with what she's doing? What happens if she can't deal with what I'm doing? What if she finds someone better? What If I find someone better?
Or were these questions the plan all along...
Fucked if I know. I'm doing my best right now to just get everything set up so I can have a life here. So far so good. Got an apartment. Got the utilities turned on. Got a storage unit for all the family shit that I have to deal with when my household goods are delivered. Move in to my new place August 1, 2019. Start work tomorrow.
So life keeps trucking along. That's a given. No matter what you do time just keeps on ticking ticking...into the future. Thank you Steve Miller. So I just got to put my head down and do the work. Get into shape. Get my mind right. Get my education right. Get my finances right. Do everything I need to do for me so that when the time comes the decision that she makes is of little consequence. I'm going to have everything working at 100%, firing on all gears. There's nothing else worth doing than that.
I think I told you last time around that the lovely wife has started moving her shit into the new apartment. So it has begun...
Remember that part from Mortal Kombat?
Okay, now that we've got the video game movie reference out of the way for today, we can get on to more important issues. Like this lovely new thing I've been reading about online lately that has been cracking me up.
The Red Pill: Another movie reference to the Matrix now, but a movie reference nonetheless. This is part of the manosphere, men's movement or whatever you want to call it. I'm not 100% sure what to make of it just yet. But first a little background, The Urban Dictionary defines the "red pill" as: Signifies the recognition of the true nature of female behavior,
including her attraction to traits of dominance, preference for men with
status, attraction to men who have been pre-selected by other women,
and hypergamous nature. Red Pill
men are aware that women are strongly influenced by the culture and
that their attraction cues are often outside of their conscious
awareness. Increasingly, modern women,
and especially Western women, indulge in one-night stands and
short-term relationship in their 20s with alpha males, followed by
seeking out a beta male provider
in their late 20s and early 30s. Red Pill men are aware of this
phenomenon and develop a sexual strategy to benefit from a woman's
promiscuity as well as avoid the financial peril of marriage. Married
men can also be Red Pill, as their awareness helps them handle female
shit tests and maintain attraction with their partner.
A man who has taken the Red Pill
is committed to self-improvement and adapting to the reality of female
behavior whether that be through the application of game in his
relationships and/or withdrawing from LTRs.
That's a lot to unpack. So what led me to reading all this shit? Well, its been a rough road with the wife as of late. I suppose I was looking for the echo chamber that would tell me that I'm right, she's wrong and I'm a victim of the evil matriarchy masquerading as a patriarchy. Blah, blah blah. And for a bit that's exactly what I got. But the more and more I got into it the more and more I think I learned about people and by extension of that myself.
So where did this red pill come from? Fucked if I know for sure, and its the internet so you'll never be able to totally track down its roots...that is lost to a sea of 1s and 0s. In any case, the theory I have of how it got going, and this is simply what my little pea brain dreamed up in the moments prior to me writing this:
Somewhere a while back, some man or men who knew each other all got royally burned by the women in their life. Wives having babies with other men, some horrendous shit like that. Or better yet, one of those guys who has to pay child support on a kid that's proven to not be his...yeah, those guys. Instead of channeling their anger and hate into a drunken bender with a lead meal at the end these guys decided to start writing and trying to piece together what the fuck happened to them and their lives. Now instead of blaming the "woman" singular. They blamed, "women" plural. Now, there's not a rational, intelligent person left on earth really who thinks blaming an entire population for the sins of one or a few is a good idea anymore. I know for a fact, because I blame entire hemispheres for the actions of 19 guys and I am certainly not someone to be listened to...at least not where policy is concerned. Anyway, off that tangent and back to blame.
Where as these guys should've blamed their ex-wife Sheila, they blamed all the Sheilas the world over. And they started building a philosophy around it. Some of these guys realized that the philosophy they were building had (in the short term) a dramatic effect on their lives especially in the area of meeting females and talking their knees apart. Now did they simply use this new found knowledge for good? Say, use it to teach guys who are forever stuck in virginland how to do it? Well, yes they did, but they also used it as proof positive that the female of the species is inherently evil. And they wrote about it, and studied it, and unpacked it, and researched it, and on and on they went. They even picked up a few acolytes along the way. Pook, Rollo Tommassi, and a few others are the big dogs to my knowledge. They even found a willing segment of the women of the world to agree with them. You know these girls...they're the ones who can say, "I'm not like other girls" and keep a straight face! Then with the advent of blogs and twitter and facebook and the endless proliferation of information that is the modern day interweb they realized that they could parlay this philosophy into some big money. Or at least that's my contention. I can see why a true believer would want to spread this information far and wide, but what I can't see is a man of little or no means doing what these guys do.
Its books, its websites, its online courses, its twitter, its speaking engagements, its fucking speaking tours. Its merchandise, and on and on it goes. At least Rollo Tomassi says he does it for free on his website, but he does ask for donations to Greyhounds. So I'm sure he's getting some cheddar for all this but its not a certainty that he's getting rich off it. But some are.
The reason that I bring up Rollo Tomassi is that he's the chief. He's the prophet. He's the figurehead for all of this. Type in manosphere and he pops right up. Men's movement, same shit.
So I'd like to learn more about him. Which I will in the near future but if anyone knows any shortcuts for me I am all in favor of those!
Next thing they get into or one of their big topics is "hypergamy" which I didn't even think was a word originally because you listen to any 2 of these guys on youtube and they both pronounce it differently. So I was thinking it was a situation like, "irregardless" (if you use that word you should be set on fire in a dumpster)
Basically, the word means, "marrying someone of a superior economic class than yourself"
Okay, so on its face it isn't sexist, but lets be real, there aren't a lot of rich women marrying the pool boy. They'll fuck him that's for sure, but they marry men who've got just as much if not more. Its rich guys that marry poor women. So women, if they're attractive enough can circumvent pretty much every meritocracy there is. And walk off with all the money.
To which I say, BITCHES! Not because I'm mad about it, but because I'm jealous. If all I had to do to be successful was be hot? I think I could pull it off. Now granted, very few women are hot enough to circumvent all the meritocracies. I'd guess we're talking about less than one-tenth of one percent could actually pull it off.
In any case, the manosphere has taken the actions of a small subset of women and blasted every split tail on earth with their vitriol. This is the point where, if they read this, they'll call me a cuck or cuckold, or soyboy or some other shit. Not to worry, sticks and stones and all that.
My answer to the question of hypergamy is simple, why the fuck not? If a woman can improve herself, the lives of her children and the lives of the man she marries by actively doing the things required to land a high value man, why shouldn't she do that?
My answer would be to the guys that don't like it, increase your value brother. Make more money, get better sex. That is simple. Its not a debatable point as far as the world around me is concerned. And do not give me the whole, "I love my husband and I've only been with him and he's not rich and blah, blah, blah" Okay, assuming all that's true, so what? You're one of a few billion. By in large, and on average, hypergamy is what happens, because its valuable to the survival of our species and the proliferation of strong genes. Rich kids live longer and have more children that live.
Why did I get on this rant? I was looking for an echo chamber to tell me my wife is a horrible person for what she's doing. What I found was an answer that gave birth to thousands more questions.
The answer I found is this, men and women, people in general are absolutely limitless in their capacity for insecurity. In that area at least, I am exceptional. More to come...
So it was my last day at the prison here in Michigan. Which was nice. I mean I never really liked the place all that much. Don't get me wrong, a low security prison is nice. Except for a camp its about as close to a regular job as you're going to get in my line of work.
But its a funny thing in prison. The less time you spend fighting with the inmates, the more time you spend fighting with the staff. And vice versa. I'm sure you can all understand that concept.
But it is humorous as you walk through this life how it seems like people can equate your leaving with kind of a form of death. I mean, I'm moving on to the next institution I'm not dying. But you get all the nonsense about being missed and all that, which is fine. I guess its better than a 'good riddance, fucko, we're happy to see you go'
Last day of work, my ass. I'm right back to it in a few weeks. Most likely will be till I die. Given the fact that my dumb ass went ahead and waited till I was 36 to have my kids.
But not to worry, life is good. I'm getting all the crap wrapped up here at this house, we managed to make almost 50k on the sale, plus my company gives me a 5% bonus for selling to a private party and not making them buy it from me. So all told I'm getting almost $60,000 out of this deal.
Now, on to PA. This next adventure will be a great one.
