Quixotica

Apparently, my sister is unimpressed with my mastery of the native fashion.

So uh, hey.
What's up with you?
You know all those nonsense posts that show up here, with no more justification or unifying purpose than I felt an uncertain and intangible obligation to comment on my lack of unifying purpose or justification?
Yeah. It's one of those.

Man. Breakfast was awesome.
No, seriously. Hear me out.
Oftentimes the current Western dietary schedule has been lambasted by snide detractors, many of whom immigrate from areas of divergent cultural backgrounds. We have it backwards, I've heard it said; what you ought to do to live a long and healthy life is eat big in the morning and wind down in the evening, instead of our current practice of breakfasting light (or commonly not at all) and consuming meals of increasing volume as the day progresses. I've tried it both ways for months at a time, and I have to agree; if the objective of life is to feel energetic and purposeful, a dietary change can have a significant effect. I offer little more than my own experiences as evidence: I've lost over fifty pounds in the last eight to ten months, and while I do exercise semi-regularly the bulk of my change in discipline has taken place in the heady arena of gastronomy. This morning I consumed a big bowl of cereal (about a cup and a half of this Kashi GoLean stuff, the overall healthiest enriched cereal I could find) with: a whole banana (diced), a whole kiwi (diced), two handfuls of fresh blueberries (a little more than half a cup, but who knows; I have big hands) an egg white (for extra protein; this is not a typical day's ingredient) and a handful of walnuts. I think almonds are a little better for you than walnuts, but they're more expensive and I run out quicker. Once this massive cornucopia of macrobiotic flava is finally assembled, about a cup to a cup and a half of soymilk is unceremoniously dumped on top (I took a day to measure what I was eating about a week ago, thus all the rough approximations are still fresh) and the whole thing is complemented beautifully by a piece of random fruit (nectarine today FTW), a big bottle of water and a hot cup of green tea.

Upon re-reading the above paragraph (and I think you'll agree with me here) I find that I sound like nothing so much as a goddamned hippie. But I'm cool with that; if I seem over-enthusiastic about the quality of my daily meal, well why aren't you having as much fun with your food? You eat at least two to three times every day (about five to six times for me); why not live it up? For example, today's glorious morning (I woke up at seven on a Monday morning mid-July; lame.) repast was followed two and a half hours or so later by a snack of a handful of walnuts and a pear, then lunch three hours later of a turkey sandwich with this weird Ezekiel 4:9 sprout bread I picked up 'cause it was cheap (it appears to be bread made not only from wheat, but from lentils and millet, totally hippie), a whole tomato (sliced), a couple handfuls of spinach, a smattering of hummus and about 10-12 carrot sticks. Oh, and a crapload of water and another cup of green tea. I'm looking forward to another fruit snack and then a big salad for dinner tonight, with diced chicken (which I've still got to cook up, crap) and a smattering of assorted leftovers in the fridge. I think I've got some green peas and soybeans left, and perchance some blueberries.

This all probably seems like an awful lot of trouble when you could be doing something more interesting, but seriously; it's just you and the monitor there, who are you kidding? In terms of preparation time (including cooking up a couple pieces of chicken) I will have spent maybe a half hour on food today, tops. In comparison, I spent from about 7:15 this morning to about 12:30 this afternoon playing Neverwinter Nights 2; I'd still be playing, if I hadn't made myself go find something else to do. The same goes for you; with the sheer volume of text this post is demanding, you'll likely have spent at least ten minutes or so reading through it, more if you had to look up "lambasted". If you'd spent that time thinking about your nutritional plans for the coming day instead of laboriously working your way through my dull meanderings, you might have made a few interesting and potentially invigorating choices and decisions instead of realizing that I'd left my original point gasping for relevancy about a paragraph and a half ago. So let me finish this up and go find something useful to do: by eating your biggest meal of the day at breakfast and winding down progressively from there (i.e. big carbohydrate-laden breakfast, medium lunch with even balance of nutrional elements, and a relatively modest dinner consisting primarily of meats and vegetables) you will maintain a healthier body mass and feel more full and energetic when it makes the most sense (in the morning and afternoon) and leaner and less energetic when it comes time for bed. You'll sleep better (I've found) and wake up with more energy and anticipation of the coming day.

Christ help me, I sound like a diet pill infomercial sandwiched between the Home Shopping Network and that commercial for the broom thingy that cleans ceilings; what happened to my tough, cynical exterior? I've lost all my pessimistic faux-intellectual street cred; I'd better salvage what's left as best I can...

Uhh...politicians are big smelly liars? Religion is the opiate of the masses? Reality TV is for sheep?

Guess I've lost my edge...I'm off to walk downtown and stand around turning my nose up at all the emo kids standing around turning their nose up at all the pedestrian fools turning their nose up at all the young people with nothing better to do than stand around all day turning their nose up at people.

Does anyone even say that someone was "turning their nose up" anymore? Man I feel old...

So, I was gonna bullshit a big long post.

But instead, I decided to reinstall and play Bloodlines for an hour.

But while I'm waiting for it to install, here you go.

We discussed Plato's allegory of the cave today in class, and I found that after reading it anew what I once thought to be a wry and insightful look at society concealed a number of niggling irritations which only now begin to make themselves known. Not much time, the program's already half-finished; thus I'll mention only my greatest gripe, that Plato's imagined story is far too heavy-handed. When the seeker descends back into the depths, his eyes adjust poorly to the dim conditions after being exposed to the dazzling brilliance of the outside world and he has great difficulty distinguishing the particulars regarding the shadows projected on the wall before his fellows. Since the prisoners' only pastime is interpreting the shapes thrown onto the wall, this activity is solely responsible for their determination of social hierarchy; when their vagrant companion finally returns, not only has he gained nothing from his ascension, he has in fact lowered himself in his pursuit of truth. Plato emphasizes the seeker's sense of pity for his former compatriots, bemoaning their lack of understanding and willingness to remain in ignorance; but if the seeker were truly changed by his discovery of a world beyond what his senses first made clear to him, does it not logically follow (assuming the seeker isn't a colossal boor) that the greatest truth gained from the climb was not that the light was truthful, but that the senses were false? Oh hell, the program's done and I've gotten nowhere but the most basic restatement of a premise most everyone should already be familiar with. Let me sum up:

The allegory of the cave (and likely, of Socrates' trial and execution) contains some elements of truth but is ultimately overweening and heavy-handed in that the protagonist never truly learns to accept that his senses are worthy of doubt; rather, he discovers the brilliance of the outside world, and then assumes that it is truth. He returns to the cave and reigns in pity over his chained brethren, secure in his lofty certainty that he has seen Truth. But if this new truth renders his old assumptions and world-view obsolete, is not the first lesson to assume is fallacious? What proof does he have that the truth he has found is absolute?

In truth, I covered little of what I actually wanted to delve into, none of it new or even terribly intriguing. Oh well; I'm off to shoot zombies. Maybe I'll try again tomorrow.

I was gonna write something here, just to fill up space.

But I've felt this niggling need to be active like, all day long.

My unrequited urge to pant and sweat demands that I fulfill my unholy need for blueberries and kiwi by running down to the store, whereupon I will stagger about like unto a man possessed, calling out in craven tones for the citrus so desperately desired.

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix OF DELICIOUS KIWI.

Disjointed? Hardly.