The Dilemma: That smug show-off at the gym is definitely doing something when he laps you—you’re just not sure what it is.

People You Can Impress: track nerds and, well, more track nerds?

The Quick Trick: Check out the feet. The rules of racewalking are specific about what should be happening down there. No matter how fast you’re going, as long as at least one of your feet is always touching the ground, and as long as you’re not bending your knees, you’re racewalking.

The Explanation:
With roughly 400 years of history under their collective belt (or fanny pack, as the case may be), racewalking enthusiasts have had plenty of time to pin down exactly what their sport entails. The whole thing began when (apparently bored) English nobles started holding races between their footmen, wagering on whose servant was the fastest. By the 19th century, racewalking was the second-biggest betting sport in America behind horse racing, and in 1908 it became an Olympic event. These days, the true champions of the sport can walk a mile in less than six minutes.

Jogging, on the other hand, has a much shorter history. It began as a conditioning activity for retired runners and gained popularity in America with the 1967 publication of Jogging, cowritten by University of Oregon track coach Bill Bowerman and cardiologist Dr. Waldo Harris. Only then did average Americans begin regularly participating in “light running” as a way to stay in shape.

-courtesy of mentalfloss.com

- e.e. cummings

this is never a wise idea. i end up feeling frustrated, insignificant, emotionally confused, filled with regrets, and my life, i observe, is marked with a general lack of purpose.

recently someone close to me asked for advice on a personal matter of hers, a matter that involved a decision that, once acted upon, will be irreversible. i asked her (she is a formidable reader) what she would be shouting at the character in a book, were she the character in the same position as she finds herself. it seemed to help. except that life turned out to be quite trickier than the denouement of a novel.

i was in a discussion a year or so ago, about what it is exactly that separates human beings from other animals. i think the ability to create fiction might be a key feature of us as a species. of course, what deer dream of will always be unknown to me, but the ability to create fiction in discourse, which is more than the ability to communicate, is something quite spectacular.

but something went strange, for better or for worse. somehow, in our ability to create fiction, and in our ability to create a narrative, we have assumed that our lives should conform to a narrative. but of course, any work of fictional narrative has a creator, with an idea, a point to prove, a purpose in writing the story. trying to superimpose your life on that of a character in a novel is impossible – in the three days that passed between chapter 2 and 3, you have met 30 new people, had ups and downs, felt tired, cheerful, at a loss, carefree, hungry, you went to pee, worried about your body, lit your 25th cigarette, imagined a different life, made resolutions, frayed resolutions, got confused, found certainty, got confused again. lived a normal three days in the life of a human being.

but let me not muddy my point. clearly there is no necessary purpose to life, and if there isn’t a god, then there is indeed no fundamental narrative to our lives. there are no characters more important than others, there are no motifs, there is no theme, no plot. Except the novelistic features we create ourselves.

WE create the narrative. we don’t need a god for that.

A friend of mine has been institutionalised because he has created a fictional narrative for his life, that is completely out of sync with the rest of the world’s narrative that has him as a character.

Coal Black and De Sebben Dwarves

Goldilocks and the Jivin’ Bears

Bugs Bunny Nips the Nips

here’s a slight difficulty though. it’s not difficult to show that the Nazi party, or rather Hitler specifically (and the rest just a bunch of aryan sheep), was a tad -M-. Crazy. Fucking Evil. So if you’re presenting propaganda that depicts the Fuhrer as a fool, what’s wrong with that? To a large extent, most of what we consider as right or wrong, ethical or immoral, sas been indoctrinated through societal norms, tradition, popular media, etc.  That’s not difficult to accept.  And maybe for the better! I find myself in a particular moral vacuum as I have been completely desensitized to horrible things. Don’t misunderstand me, just because I’ve been (willfully) exposed to the less savoury aspects of life (watching Salò at 10 didn’t help) doesn’t mean I encourage Sadistic tendencies. I might just not react with the same immediate repulsion. I finished watching the movie, didn’t I?

Now, the point Anthony Burgess makes is that only by going through an individual thought-process can one get to a sense of what one deems as right or wrong. I agree.  But how many people really sit and think “mmmm, is what I am doing right or wrong in the Utilitarian sense?”. And that thought-process is undoubtedly superimposed on your gut feelings.

So back to the point I started with. Disney released a whole lot of fucked-up crap about the Japanese, about Africans, about homosexuals, the list of traditional-traditionalist-enemies goes on. But amidst my holier-than-though verbal castigation, I found myself stopping before the particular Hitler animation in question (see: Education For Death).

(if you think I’m leading towards a satisfactory resolution, stop reading)

so here’s the problem: brainwashing is unacceptable. cruelty (in principle) is unacceptable. yet brainwashing an anti-cruelty doctrine (leave whether it works or not aside) is also unacceptable. Of course free will and decisions are preferable, but we know that our free will is limited. we now that choice is an illusion to a significant extent, alone against the invasion of genetic coding, the subconscious, subliminal advertising, traditional indoctrination, etc etc.

I’ve got a sore neck and cold feet.

The possibilities of schizophrenia are multiplying like rabbits on PCP.  You might know me by my alter-ego, known merely as one of the 867 “friends” you have on Facebook. Our generation will go down in history as the most popular and friendly (in the most literal sense) bunch of all time. Or refer to my myspace. I spent hours to find the right mix of quasi-philosophical undertones mixed with a sense of  “virtual aesthetics”. “Virtual ostentation”. Or I might just tweet myself into existence. Unfortunately, according to twitter I have been watching Space Odyssey for the past 6 days. The end was worth the wait.

But here’s my blog. There are still a million buttons to explore (i can’t wait to see what TURBO does), and I can already envisage the irritation I can inflict by tagging. Google and I will make a collaborative effort to piss off those trusting the internet for reliable information on “1789+revolution+causes”. But I’ll try and keep this simple in appearance. Instead of trying to form a personality from a healthy mix of binary-code and unrealised aspirations, I’ll rather just take advantage of this opportunity to vent my mind without the the twenty dates I usually need to get someone to be interested. And of course the fact that I can pay for this “virtual published space” by throwing burnt matches from the frying pan into the fire is an advantage too.

Stay tuned for things that make very little sense.  No points for spotting contradictions.