TCAHR - Better Living Through Memetics Volume 02, Issue 05 TCAHR Reloads 12/26/01 ------------------------------------------------------------ I realize this issue is late. I've been thinking about the fate of TCAHR's writing style. Volume 01 of TCAHR was dangerous and funny, volume 02 is not. Volume 02 is cafefully constructed PC-ness. It's time to return to old ways, but in new forms. Isn't the approach of the new year a perfect time? New resolutions and all that rubbish. The following passages were written in August. Designed after Nietzsche's burst of philosophy style, this very well may become TCAHR's new style. I warn you. Some of it isn't the nicest things I've ever written, but I've never pretended to be nice. Tell me what you think. Enjoy. Jet Jaguar TCAHR CEO ---------------------------------------- My Big, Primitive Hammer 08-05-01 When I was a teenager, I came up with what I believed to be brilliant theories on humanity. The more I read, the more I realized that all my ideas had been discussed by as many as 1000 years ago by little-remembered intellectuals. In my younger days I was disappointed at this, believing myself to be the possessor of an unoriginal mind. I was a fool who couldn't realize how wonderful such intelligence was. Think of the hammer. The raw materials that would become the hammer were abundant. All that was needed was an animal with the biological ability, need, and intelligence to fashion stone, wood, and vine into a hammer. We must remember that there were two species of humans on this planet. Those who adapted by building tools and ideas with the materials at hand were the ancestors of those reading this now. Those who didn't adapt are nothing more than museum curiosities. That primitive hammer gave rise to thousands of tools and weapons; objects also have their evolutions. The data and experiences which fashion philosophies are out there in the datasphere. Dali had his hammers, Lao-Tzu had his hammers, and I have my own hammers. My fledging philosophies may have been primitive, but the ideas of people such as Blackmore, Kafka, and Nietzsche have not made my own ideas useless. Studying them has only helped in the evolution of my own theories. They are still my hammers and I am going to keep using them. ---------------------------------------- V is for Violence and Victory 08-05-01 There are a few cute quotes making their way through humanity on the uselessness of violence. Pseudo-intellectuals toss about these sayings which demean the intellect of those who use violence. What else do you expect from a collective group which tends towards cowardice and weakness? Shunning violence simply because it is violence is not worthy of the intelligent mind. A person who aims to be intelligent does not toss out effective and proven data because he or she finds that data morally repugnant. Our subjective sense of morality has hindered the spread of knowledge enough times. In this age where our knowledge of AIDS, overpopulation, and teenage pregnancy leads us to the logical conclusion of birth control, the caretakers of our "morality" such as the Catholic church make millions of their followers equate condoms with sin. Instead of a blanket philosophy of morality, every act of violence needs to be defined by context. The honest dedicated police officer drawing a salary to protect you is a student of the law and of violence. To believe him or her to be morally repugnant doesn't seem to matter when its your life or property is in danger. To put all this theorizing into a short and personal truth: you can't talk your way out of an incoming fist to your mouth. Sometimes you simply have to fight. ---------------------------------------- The Machine That Equalized America 08-06-01 Simply because I advocate violence over pacifism doesn't mean I support all contexts that violence is a part of. Some humans are invariably stronger than others and use that strength to force their opinions and deed upon the physically weaker. This meant that centuries ago a trained fighter such as a knight could bully around an untrained peasant. The peasant and the knight could both have swords and the knight would probably cut that poor serf down. Luckily, this is the 21th century and I'm living in the United States. I have the right to own a gun. The gun has equalized the playing field and if more people exercised their right to own a handgun, I would sleep easier for three reasons. The first is that I am uncomfortable with the idea of the majority of guns being owned by law enforcement agencies. The military, FBI, CIA, and police all have guns. Suppose a government acted in a way to protect its own financial interests to the detriment of its citizens. Now whom do you suppose law enforcement will back: the will of the people or the government which pays its salary? Law enforcement is made of people who have families to feed and lifestyles to protect. Thankfully, their natural instinct for survival cuts both ways. They protect the government that feeds them and their families, but as the WTO riots prove, they're not risking their well-being for no one. While the police in Seattle and Genoa arrested and brutalized peaceful protesters, they gave the violent anarchist groups a much wider berth. Imagine how much wider that berth would have been if the anarchists were armed to the teeth. The second is that I am uncomfortable with the only other large group in America owning guns being criminals. Anyone who knows criminals knows that a criminal is, above all, a tactician. A criminal preys on weakness. They rob, rape, and murder those who they consider defenseless. Now if the majority of the populace were carrying concealed weapons the element of risk would be too great for crime. Who wants to take the chance of meeting the next Richard Specks? Finally, guns are good for cleaning the gene pool. No other machine in the world has been more effective in ridding the world of villains and idiots. Criminals and cops killing criminals is one of the most beautiful equations in creation. If only we as a society knew better; whenever I hear about tax dollars being spent to investigate the crime-related murder of a known criminal, I get pretty damn upset. Then there's the idiots. When I here about stupid adults who don't lock up their guns and their stupid kids who shoot themselves by playing with those guns, my faith in Social Darwinism is renewed. Some DNA just shouldn't be passed down to hinder future generations. ---------------------------------------- Kicking the Heads Off Flowers 08-06-01 I write about violence because I am interested in the idea of power. The common man will never have true power. True power comes in having the kind of money that would make your mother happily hide the identity of your murderer. Compared to that, all other forms of power are merely the techniques of pigs fighting for the best slop. It is an unappetizing thought, but I'd rather have these scraps of power than none at all. I believe that the recourse of the common person is in the use of either beauty and violence. Pretty bimbos croon songs about simplistic love. The most ornate churches, synagogues, and mosques are the most popular. Books which weave tales of idiotic romance outsell books of substance. Bodies are restructured by abnormal amounts of physical labor and the knives of surgeons. Celebrities influence our decisions. Women are still programmed to marry according to status by using their tits. These same women are shamed into pumping millions into the make-up and fashion industries. We now buy computers by their fucking color schemes! Our actions expose us as little more than animals fighting over the shiny bits in the trash. So now we have the money elite creating products and affecting mindsets. It works; we are more receptive to what we consider beautiful and bequeath unto them status. Then we have idiotic commoners who are "beautiful" attempt petty tyrannies on everyone else. If want to observe this power game, I suggest going to a nightclub; preferably an upscale one where you can watch how money and beauty intermingle. That's why I endorse violence to counteract beauty. My time in the military taught me that you take out power at its source. I invite the vain ones smug in their expensive clothes to conspire against me. Because if they catch me at my most ornery, I am going to bash their faces into pink mist. Then I become the pretty one. ---------------------------------------- Suicide Kings are Wild 08-06-01 I will conclude these thoughts on violence with whom I believe to be the most dangerous people in the world. Those who call suicide a selfish and cowardly act do not fully understand the dynamics of the suicidal person. That's okay, because usually neither does the suicidal person. A suicidal person does not fear the unknown of death. Someone who attempts suicide is not afraid of his culture's god; he or she is willing to kill themselves in accordance or in spite off dogma. If suicide is a selfish act, then disregard for family, friends, and reputation is apparent. Possessing these qualities, the suicidal failure is more capable of doing anything to better their own life or else die trying. Give me an army of such people and I would enslave the world. ---------------------------------------- Life is a Mug's Game 08-22-01 Every day I become more convinced that there is a difference between life and survival. The word "life" tends to have certain connotations; we expect life to fall into a pattern, usually a good one. The connotations of the word "survival" tend to run towards the negative. We want life, but we settle for survival. Those running the rat races everyday know this. We work to attract mates, breed, support our family-based comfort structures, and/or attempt enjoyment through material objects. Then the ironic part kicks in: we have no time for meeting others, enjoy time with our families/mates, or enjoy our mass-marketed products. It's the way of our world; there is no use of complaining about it. First-World humans work 40-60 hours a week to survive. They attempt to live during evenings, weekends, sick days, and two weeks of vacation time a year. Unfortunately, one thing stops them from living during these scant hours and reverts them back to survival mode: fear. Personally, I despise the fear emotion. I despise it in myself and in everyone else, though I realize its usefulness. I like the adrenaline and enhanced vision, as I am more of a fight than flight kind of guy. But I can deal without the crippling effects upon the psyche. I am a bit phobic about heights, have an aversion to maggots, and I fear rejection more than anything else in the world. Eventually, I could get on the roller-coasters. My cowardice of maggots was tamed by the fact I am much bigger than they are. I still fear rejection, but if I didn't get over that I would never get laid. Instead, I rarely get laid; which is pretty much to par for a single, largely heterosexual male. I know people who "live" in constant fear of many things and go to great lengths to avoid them. I can excuse two or three great fears. I can't excuse a craven chicken-shit with a multitude of phobias. How does a human afraid of 10+ things such as dolls, bugs, and blood get up in the fuckin' morning? Nor can I excuse cowardice that reveals itself in constant paranoia of other people. Can you call an existence full of fear of inanimate objects and the potential actions of other humans living? I believe in being aware of my surroundings and achieving strategic superiority against my fellow humans, but I function. I don't fear anyone, I fear things. Those things I either learn to accept, respect, or destroy. ---------------------------------------- The Measure of Kindness 08-22-01 Never measure the amount of a man or woman's kindness by the act of giving. Once in an attempt to impress a young lady whom I wanted to mate with, I waited her out in front of a restaurant we were both eating at. There was a beggar outside the restaurant whom I promptly gave money to seconds before she walked out. I turned and saw her their and feigned embarrassment. Her estimation of me rose that day. I've also been known to give beggars larger amounts of money than they usually received. I was walking out of a bar and feeling very smug due to my appearance and the wad of money in my pockets. This beggar comes to me and gives me the got-some-change talk. I shook his hand and then walked away smiling. He came running up to me five minutes later kissing my ass. I slipped his twenty dollars during the handshake. I couldn't care less how he felt getting the money. I did it to show off and feed my arrogant ego. Knowing the reasons behind gift-giving, I hate being the receiver of the gift or favor! When I am given something, I immediately feel obligated to the other person's act of "kindness". I would rather receive nothing at all so that I could avoid the feelings of obligation; whether in the form of buying a gift myself or having to feign interest, appreciation, or civility for the rest of the evening. That's where the true measure of kindness is: There is more liability in the taking than the giving. ------------------------------------------------------------ tcahr@hotmail.com Copyright 2001