The title can be broken up as; bizarre is weird; defi is lack of; connect is connection to; outre is outer; earth is world. Hence weird lack of connection to the outer world.

Since this morning I am feeling an absolute disconnect between myself and the rest of the world. It can not be verbalized easily. I feel as if everything in the world outside me has changed. As if I am in a different dimension and something has changed. I feel the same about myself, but something or rather everything outside me has changed. I have had this very same feeling on two occasions before this. 

The first one and the most vivid and strong one was during my university. I woke up, went back to my university after a two week break. And I felt completely out of sync with whatever was going on there. Completely, as if I have changed completely and each one of my relationships with people and each one of my relationships with objects have changed completely. As if millennia have passed for me but not for anything else. Do I feel emotionally attached to anything else any longer? I now feel as if I didnt. I had to build all of my earlier relationships with people as well as objects again. 

Same thing happened to me about two years ago. Again, I sleep in my world, my dimension, but when I wake up, I am in another world. Exactly similar, yet completely changed. But this one was very mild, but noticeable since I had been through it once. If I hadnt been through it, I am sure I would have noticed this one as well, it was that strong.

And this is the third one. Milder still. Yet still noticeable. A weird and strange feeling. Do not know and can not explain.

Do other people have this feeling as well? Or not? God! Am I really going insane. I have to go watch some porn and see if at least some of my relationships maintain their importance and depth.

PS - Yes they do ;) I have been cured.

So what is disconnect with your spouse and how do you know if you're disconnected?

Disconnect would be if you feel like you are not connected with your spouse, mind, body, and soul. This could be present itself as lack of communication or quality of communication. It could also surface as lack of physical intimacy, or agreement on matters.

Often times in the beginning of a relationship we feel a strong "Connect" with our mate. Typically we are heavily involved in conversations trying to learn more about one another. We spend alot of time together and there is usually an increased frequency of sexual encounters. This is known as the "honeymoon phase". The honeymoon phase can range from about six months to two years, depending on the couple.

But then the honeymoon phase ends and many people start feeling themselves disconnecting with their mate. The long conversations you used to have diminished and the frequency of sexual encounters has decreased significantly. All of a sudden your mate in spending more time at work, they're always tired, or they would just rather watch TV.

Wow! Now what do I do? 

The answer is communication.

You need to try and find a way to keep communication alive in your relationship. You need to be able to convey your needs to your mate and your mate receive them. Often times this is very challenging. You may have to seek help for this from a relationship coach or counselor, depending on the type of communicator you and your spouse are.

Tony Robbins describes effective communication as only being effective if you receive the response you want. So, using badgering or pestering is probably not going to be an effective way for you to try and have your needs fulfilled. The better option is try to learn what communication style your mate uses or responds best to. Once you have that figured out, try and approach them in that style.

But how can communication help me to increase the number of times we are "intimate"?

Again, if you can effectively communicate your needs to your mate, then your mate will understand that intimacy is a desire of yours that you want fulfilled. Without communicating this in an effective manner, they may not know that this a problem for you.

Communication is the core of any successful relationship. A relationship in which you feel "connected" to your spouse, mind, body, and soul.

check out my website at :  www.coachcoty.com or email me at coty@coachcoty.com

GMPC is a frontend for the mpd (Music Player Daemon). It's focused on being fast and easy to use, while making optimal use of all the functions in mpd.

Current status:

Go check out the page and hopefully it'll help you out.

Diving Bell, originally uploaded by Aiden Kenny

How I wish every wednesday could be a disco-nnect wednesday.  Am just back in Sligo after a dublin trip to catch You're Only Massive's performance; Disco-nnect as part of Docklands/Project festival We are Here 3.0. I'm not entirely convinced by the contemporary nature of the 3.0 tag on the end of the festival name (makes it a bit web 2.0 for me) but the concept of a city based festival of contemporary and accessible performance is a great one, and the events programmed are as diverse a selection of "peformance" as you are likly to find on the streets of Dublin, quite literally in the case of the Massive crew.

The Sligo train is Connelly bound which brought me right into the heart of the IFSC and mercifully close to the Docklands and the meeting point on Wednesday evening. A bit laden with laptops and overnight bags I took a wander through the very european (but very empty) CHQ shopping centre in search of a bit of shelter from the pouring rain and a short sharp caffeine intake. Imagine my delight, mentally preparing for walking tour in the pouring rain-waterproofs in hand, when every step I took toward Sir John Rogerson's quay the larger the patch of blue sky grew and the more the rain clouds blew out of sight. 

Spotting a few likely audience members looking as lost as i was prompted a call to the project box office to double confirm the meeting point. Somehow I had misconstrued the Liffey Ferry Meeting point to be the FerryMan pub (can only take directions when referenced via a pub clearly) but was put straight (well straighter) after the phone call. Being told it was Sir John Rogersons Quay wasn't immensely helpful (it's a whole quay after all) but off I meandered to find my friend and the diving bell which I was assured was hard to miss. They were right. Any doubts see the pic above.

While the 20 of us gathered our thoughts (and our prayers with regard to the rain) we were handed the most magnificent umbrellas that seemed to the precise colour of the diving bell, and came adorned with little ears.(I very nearly stole mine at the end.)

I'm loathe to go into any great detail on the content of the walking tour that Maedbh and Megan took us on lest I ruin the surprise for anyone who's not yet done it, but the format was essentially an hour of a walking tour around a specific area of the docklands, and then a 30minute gig in an apartment.

The tour part (sadly I had to miss the gig part due to an unforeseen emergency but I will rectify that just as soon as I can catch the massive girls live in action) was a little slice of magic. Truly experiential it was gentle, fun, clever and an eye-opener. Our little group were taught dances and songs and chants and how to work up a sweat; all while carrying orange umbrellas without a hint of rain (I think the brolly's did it)

Daunting as this may sound it was delivered in such a charming, trusting way that not a single embarrassed objector opted out.  Some lovely methods were employed to get us trusting our guides and ourselves. We all went on our own little journey which for me was as much a visual one as anything else. The contrast between the old and the new; history and tradition versus progression and development, was exposed through the route, bringing us to parts of dublin that were like an undiscovered film set. Giant letters that I've never seen, little caravans in incongruous places filled with baby toys that we passed in silence, Libeskind's Grand Canal Square with its unexpected childhood oasis in the centre, graffiti the same sky blue as the mark on our foreheads, and a U2 pilgrimage as unlikley as one of our group bumping into a friend who was out to dinner and bemused at his dancing antics.

I can only imagine what fun awaited in the aparment with Megan and Maebh, but I'll have to save that up for another time. If you're in Dublin I urge you to get to this show (ends July 5th), and if you miss it I urge you to go for a ramble, grab a camera or position your fingers as a viewfinder; frame what's around you and find a way to connect.

Disco-nnect as part of We are Here 3.0. and runs until Sat July 5th 2008.

Saginaw Internal Disconnect Enclosure can be easily incorporated into a new system or added to a pre-existing system with variable depth or cable operated disconnects. The Internal Disconnect Enclosure aids in achieving compliance with NFPA 70E by concealing main power supply.

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But after the first couple of weeks, I find myself wondering what to do with the rest of the summer. I suppose since most of my life to this point has been spent counting time by the academic calendar, it makes sense. Most of my relationships, excepting family and a few others, are almost put on hold for the summer, or at least part of it. I suppose I associate a disconnected feeling with summer.

I suppose I get used to the round of life during the academic year, and summer is an aberration to that schedule, and I suppose I also must confess that I sometimes do not quite know what to do with lots of free time. I'm just not used to having much free time, and am slowly learning what the word "relax" means. American culture, while often quite entertainment driven and selfish, does not do too much in teaching people how to actually relax, take a moment to think, slow down the pace. I wish I was better at that.

But this summer maybe I will learn a little more balance. I know June is almost gone, but I am hopeful for July and August. Maybe this time I can balance actually spending time with people with taking moments to stop and think about life [and maybe I can actually play the piano again and remind myself how to watercolor]. I am house-sitting for a family who is gone for the entire month of July, so I am here with the cat, learning how to live by myself. I'm not sure how much I'll like living alone, but maybe it will be good for me. You never can tell.

I'm not going to over analyze it. It is what it is. I loved Roy's class today. It's always nice to have new teachers, new voices, and I always feel like I hear something new.

Tomorrow's a new day.

Goodnight.

Update 03.07.2008: Added Play, Pause, Disconnected icons for 22x22 and 16x16 versions for the tray icons

Update 11.07.2008: Pause icons have now orange lines

BetaNews broke the news (via Reuters) that the Cultural Minister of France Christine Albanel has introduced a bill which threatens file sharers with disconnection from the Internet. Via the foundation of an anti-piracy organisation to be called HADOPI, or Haute Autorité pour la Diffusion des Œuvres et la Protection des droits sur Internet (that's the High Authority for Copyright Protection and Dissemination of Works on the Internet to you and me), the riposte graduée of a three-strikes policy will be brought to bear against downloaders of hooky content.

HADOPI will be responsible for the collection of IP addresses associated with the illicit downloading of copyright materials. This information will then be tied to personal details via the collusion of the nation's ISPs. The first strike is an e-mail warning the user to cease and desist their eyepatch-wearing ways. The second is an official letter, presumably on headed paper with a nice intimidating logo.

Finally, you get the killing blow: if the e-mail and the letter haven't scared the wrongdoer off, the ISP will be ordered to terminate their connection for a period of between three months and one year.

The overall goal of the project – and the yardstick for its success – is an 80 percent reduction in piracy by the nation's 'net users. A lofty goal, but I think Albanel might be setting her sights a little high. The project will be voted upon by parliament this autumn, and if ratified will be implemented at the start of next year.

Do we have any French readers worried about their habits getting them into bother, or are you just glad the punishments don't extend to Monsieur Guillotine? Share your thoughts over in the forums.

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So far I've gotten one text from him.
And today he called me.

Apparently there's no reception at the place he's staying.

We talked for about three minutes.

"Hey Andrew. What's up?"
"Not much. Going to the mall with Ashley."
"How's the house?"
"It's good. How's your girlfriend?"
"Fine? How're you and Peter?"
"Alright. How have things been?"
"Pretty good."
"Alright. I'll give you a call later."
"Okay. Peace."
"Peace."

This is the guy who -to this day- calls himself my best friend.
That doesn't really sound like it to me.
Didn't really feel like it.
Hasn't really felt like it in a while.

I didn't really say anything to anyone when he left.
But I felt like I'd miss him.
I mean. I've been with him 80% of the time for the past four years.
He's been a major part of my life.

And for the longest time he felt like a brother to me.
My mom even calls him her son still.

And every holiday my family goes over to his family's house.
We don't have family out here.
And none of our family really feels the need to see each other often.

I haven't seen any part of my family aside from my parents since I was in middle school.
The time gap will probably just keep growing.

Anyway, I'm digressing.

What I'm trying to get at is--
I just. Don't. Really feel anything.
We've been drifting for months, and this is just solidifying things.

He hasn't been very much of a friend this past year.
I haven't felt close to him at all.

And it's just kind of a shame how things turned out.
But people change, and it's for the best most of the time.
And I think he was bound to go another direction from me anyway.

I really used to love him.

It's just another reminder of how fleeting and temporary people are sometimes.
Someone who mattered the world to me a few years ago is almost completely off my radar.

And I don't really care.

The quote above epitomizes the true essence of commitment . There are no middle roads, if you cannot commit to certain goals or tasks, you are better off saying no. Over the last week we have talked about five levels through which levels of commitment can be tested. The list below summarizes all five levels and can be a quick reference list before making a commitment .

1. Core Values: The first level for any commitment is the need to check it for direct alignment with your core values. These are a set of values inherent and embedded into individual systems. They are the result of life experiences, culture, environment and spiritual belief systems. If we make commitments which deviate  from these core values, it will result in a disconnect, making it difficult to achieve set goals. To read more about core values and commitment please click here.

2. Goals: All of us have certain goals and targets we  want to achieve in life. These goals need to be based on core values. When we commit to a certain SMART goal, it is vital to think it through meticulously. It is only once you go into details that a commitment level is required and you can then gauge if it is something you aspire to. If the commitment is in line with core values and is something you want to work towards, you are ready for the next level. To read more about goals and commitment please click here.

3. Time: Committing to a goal requires an appropriate demarcation of time. Committing to a goal without the necessary allocation of time will result in half hearted attempts which are not productive. This is not recommended and one needs to be careful about being able to take out enough time to achieve particular tasks. Once time is allocated to a particular commitment we are ready for the next level. To read more about time and commitment please click here.

4. Support: Once we have committed to a certain goal, we need to ensure continuous support to it through the good and bad. One will most definitely encounter setbacks, this may lead to doubts about your level of commitment to the goal. Therefore, breaking commitment into manageable components is recommended, this will allow you to focus with greater accuracy as also support critical functions more appropriately. If you are committed to supporting your commitments you are ready for the last level. To read more about supporting your level of commitments please click here.

5. Improving: The last stage involves testing efforts to constantly improve on the level of commitments made. It is essential to continue to develop and enhance the processes we use to reach certain goals. This creates momentum and helps maintain levels of enthusiasm. It also provides motivation to acheive excellence in whatever you commit to doing. To read more about improving levels of commitment please click here.

These five levels provide a framework to test how committed you really are in achieving a set of goals. They force you to look deeper into situations to ensure that you are truly committed. Making a commitment is a serious matter and one which should not be taken lightly, specially in a startup venture where the team needs to pull its weight together to achieve goals. Individuals who do not honor what they commit to, cause hurdles that need to be dealt with immediately, so as to ensure that high levels of enthusiasm and motivation are maintained in the team.

The next time you need to make commitment, remember to test yourself for how committed you really are!

Once a stage is reached where we actively support and work towards commitments, the next and final stage is improving the processes. This stage involves the commitment to continuously strive for excellence in all we commit to. We have to continue to find ways through which to improve on the processes currently in place. This will make the journey not only more exciting but also keep it from reaching a mundane and stagnant state .

The danger of a current set of processes stagnating is directly proportional to levels of complacency. This results in dramatic decrease in levels of motivation and drive to push harder. For example, with my current blog I am reaching a stage where I feel the need for change in layout design and functionalities.  I have hence begun working on these aspects to bring in a change. This continuous commitment to improve what we are working on not only makes our work more interesting but keeps the momentum levels high and ensures optimal levels of work.

The same logic applies to working on new startup ventures. There is a need to identify segments which are not working to potential and to ensure that improvements are put into place to rectify trouble spots. Without inculcating a culture which promotes continuous improvements to processes, naturally results in rigid organizational approaches where change becomes a challenge. This ultimately results in organizations being unable to realize their true potential. 

Hence every organization committed to achieving goals and growing its business, needs to inculcate improvement of current processes as a cornerstone of their strategy. This will provide them the ability to not only honor their commitment, but also enhance the capability to reach their true potential and unleash the power of their teams. 

It is only once we have our commitments chalked out and demarcated time to ensure they are completed, that the actual process begins. At the beginning it can be intimidating to figure out how to begin this journey. At this point it is essential that you focus on encapsulating the commitment into manageable components and identify which parts are the most critical. This is vitally important if you are part of a team which has joint commitment to reach certain targets or goals. If you are leading this team, you need to identify the important components and then lead by example.

When you start working on these critical components you will gradually begin to see movement towards desired goals. Progress in the correct direction, provides a great boost to overall productivity of a team and motivates moving forward. This level of momentum helps achieve fantastic results. For example, when I started this blog on the 1st of January 08 I made a commitment with myself to write daily for the entire year regarding entrepreneurship and life. At the beginning I was working on getting my footing correct and identifying the direction I wanted this blog to take. I settled into a weekly routine and readership has been increasing. This increase has provided me the encouragement to continue writing and give it my best.

Along the way you will most definitely face a fair share of trouble and doubts. There will be times when you will not get the results you expect and will question yourself on moving forward. At other times you will experience great hardship in the form of losing a big deal, a vital team member or negative feedback. All of these will test your commitment and  the strenght to keep moving forward. If you have made a commitment, it becomes your responsibility to stand up and defend what you are wanting to achieve.

This applies to all kinds of commitments, business, career or relationships. If you are not committed in supporting it through the good and the bad, keeping your level of commitment constant will become an increasingly difficult challenge. When you make a commitment, ensure that you will be there to support and defend it no matter the hurdles on the way.

 You are now ready to move to the last level.

After you have identified core values, set goals, made a commitment to them; the next step involves starting the journey to acheive your target. Time and commitment go hand in hand. Commitments made without proper allocation of time, result in half hearted attempts which lead nowhere. When you make a commitment, be it for a business, towards a job or even a relationship, choosing the middle road results in very little progress. I am a firm believer in committing only when I know I will be able to allocate time and give it 100% commitment. 

Being a young entrepreneur this is something I have had hands on experience with. We are in a constant state of flux on this path, bouncing from one direction to the next. Harnessing this raw energy is a difficult process. I am involved in multiple business ventures at the present, however each of them have been allocated time according to my personal commitments to the venture. This has brought about an efficient use of my time and has allowed me to compartmentalize my day, week, month and year. Through this system I am able to give dedicated time to all the ventures I am involved with at the moment.

This is one word of advice I have for anyone thinking about setting off on the entrepreneurial path...discipline. This is not the easiest of paths, there are no clear boundaries and it is not sign posted to help you along the way. At times it seems you can be as free as a bird, at others you fight to catch your breath. Discipline is a vital virtue to move effectively along this path, disciplining time commitments, in my opinion, is of the essence, absolutely critical. If you want to seriously commence this venture make sure you are 100% committed by demarcating the time you allocate to the venture diligently. 

Once you have allocated time to your commitments ,you are ready to move to the next level.

I have memories of making many ambitious new year's eve resolutions, every year, only to find myself coming up short at the end of the year, wondering what went wrong. A couple of years ago while still in college, I was out with friends over new year's eve, once again the topic of new year's resolutions came up, this time I also resolved to take this exercise seriously. I thought through the goals I had made in the past and found a couple of recurring patterns which included unrealistic timelines, instant fixes and a misalignment with who I really was. These unrealistic resolutions are often a result of lack of experience and naivety of age. I felt strongly however that this was definitely something that needed more working on.

Goals need to be in alignment with the core values that define you. Therefore, to set goals that go against these principles will surely create a disconnect between mind and body. This in turn inhibits the ability to achieve the goals we set out for ourselves. Setting goals after having identified your true core values must result in a stronger cohesion with your subconscious. The discovery of these values is a natural and ongoing process; we are constantly learning more about ourselves and this learning experience equips us to set inner and aligned goals in a better manner. 

Once you have thought of a goal which you would like to achieve, it helps if they are SMART goals. They need to be clearly defined with specifics and timelines. Only when goals are structured around achievement benchmarks will we be able to see the path that needs to be taken. Without this we will lose our bearings, not knowing which direction to take, often giving up on many pursuits.

The next step is to clearly define your goals.

Lastly you need to make a commitment to your goal and yourself that this is something you are going to achieve. There needs to be a comprehensive roadmap to get and most importantly you should know why you are taking this route and what you hope to learn along the way. There will be many times where you will be given the option to abandon what you started so enthusiastically. Those will be the times where your actual commitment levels will be tested. In startup ventures get ready to face a lot of such situations, when sales are slow, doubts are high and alternative paths are available. You need to ask yourself at those moments how committed are you to achieving your goals? 

Setting a goal is a serious commitment, please ensure the next time you make one it is done with the right intentions and reasons. You are now ready for the next level.

Before making any type of commitment the underlying premise must be built on a set of shared core values. Core values are a set of values which are embedded into each individual's system. They are the result of life experiences, culture, environment and our spiritual belief system. These values are close to our hearts and if we move away from them on critical tangents we experience levels of disconnect that make continuing on that path challenging. An individual's core value system thus provides a guiding light for those paths which are in congruence with them. 

A lot of individuals however fail to discover and connect with their core value system . When a disconnect reveals itself subconsciously, those emotions are put aside and overlooked and they move forward. When this process is repeated several times, it numbs us and soon core values get suppressed. At this level, making the slightest of commitment without this key ingredient is difficult. Success on tiered levels may then remain an elusive concept. 

It is therefore paramount that we make a commitment to identify our core values and to document them in a journal or diary. When I first did this exercise it was a liberating experience which took time. However getting in touch with your true self helps make life much simpler. Once we have an identifiable list of core values we need to make a commitment to ourself to remain committed to promoting them in every aspect of our life. They must become the anchor to keep you rooted in what you believe. Once you have consciously committed to your core values, you are ready to move onto the next level. 

Not sure what I'm gonna do now, but it's a step in the right direction. If it gets shut off, I'll still be paying over $200 in reconnect fees. Ug.

I have 4 checks coming, but they won't be here for another 3 weeks or so. If I get disconnected, I won't be back until July. I'll try to keep updating from the library if I can. My library seems to block a lot of things, so I'm not sure I'll even be able to get here.

Looks like this summer is going to be a bumpy one and not in the ways I expected.

Friday is the finalization of the house refi. That's a good thing. Then I can really start making decisions and working on things.

Have a great day.

J

The demands placed upon us to work, to be economically productive are made to override all else, forcing us out of what could be close knit communities and into impersonal, production/ consumption oriented environment. As a result, the disparate tasks we perform become our identity and prime motivator, leaving little room for anything more than superficial communal activity.

Further, we are disconnected not only from each other, but from the earth that we must all ultimately depend on. Riding the skytrain, I was struck by the barren landscape flying beneath. Vancouver is, of course, a place of endless "development", and beneath me was a grey and lifeless expanse. I thought of this expanse repeated in hundreds of cities worldwide. In contrast, natural environments foster thousands, even millions of life forms that have evolved in concert with the land: they are literally full of life.

Civilization strips the environment of much of this life giving capacity, and are designed to support only one form of life. Again, we see the symptoms of a disconnect. Surely if we identified with the land and the non-human creatures on it, we would not kill the creatures and render their former environment sterile. However, instead of seeing the importance of a healthy landbase, we see a healthy economy as being of primary importance, and we shape the environment accordingly.

“The environment” is seen as something separate, a museum we go visit on the weekends to “get away from it all”, or worse still, a “nowhere” that we see through a car window while going “somewhere”. We see caged trees on city streets and caged animals in homes, symptoms not of love, but a disconnected objectification of life. We see the land only as an object to be manipulated and shaped to suit our desires. If we destroy the economy, the human species will survive, if we destroy the earth, it will not.

The pace of modern civilization clouds our collective vision. In the race to keep up, we are blind to the destruction we cause. Is that any wonder that we build vehicles and homes designed to isolate ourselves as much as possible from the outside world, that when among people we build walls to isolate ourselves?

I wanted to share this video with you because it demonstrates the disconnect that the current educational system has with the interests and perspectives of the youth. We have to find a way to make learning more relevant and interesting to students. The video focuses on the American educational system but since the Philippine system is more akin to the US system, the problems expressed in the video apply and resonate in the Philippine context as well. Food for thought.

Following the primary election of the United States of America through the Blogosphere, as the community of plugged-online democrats coined, is one bumpy ride. As a foreigner, I started out with an interest in finding out who is the best for the job. My ideology veers towards Democrats'. Thus, I focused my attention on Democrat's primary.

At the mention of Clinton, most of the young political apathetic people in my country, unfortunately, thought of the "Scandal". They either snicker or shake their head in distaste. My own reaction at that time was a feeling of deep sympathy for Senator Clinton whose pain was acted out on international stage. Now, many years later, I am intrigue by the former first lady who went on to become a Senator and is now running for the presidency nominee.

After the Florida primary, I set out through the net to find information on the two remaining candidates. Aware of the bias inherent in writings, I tried to look for good and fair analysis based on records.

I was ever so shock to find the ideological split in the two parties, Democrats and Republicans play out on the net, with each side entrenched on their corner of the web, demonising one another. I can understand wanting solidarity but there seemed to be no real communication other than sniping and gloating. This only serves to paint a caricature of each other in the mind of each side, cutting out any meaningful conversations.

Some of the ideals encompassed by each side can be totally incompatible but what made it disturbing is the total acceptance of hate speech and the inability to recognise that there are black, white and then there is grey. There are more grey than black and white in politics. Arguments can be made, stands can be taken but is there any point to that when all they are basically doing is preaching to the choir.

This was somewhat predicative of what happened later.

I was startled by how hard it is to find civility on the blogs. Many blogs are brimming with undisguised and mostly unexplainable hatred of Senator Clinton. This caused Senator Clinton's supporters to disperse into the net from their usual haunts in search of others more welcoming. It is unsurprising that as the primary prodded on, all of this came to a boiling point on 14 march 2008, signified by the "symbolic boycott" of "the big orange", a blog formerly held together by its opposition to "Bush".

The mob mentality and unreasoning mindset of many Obama's supporters on the net earned them many dubious monikers but still, they are relentless in their "information dissemination" around the web.

Senator Clinton's supporters coalesced together to some parts of the web and created their own community, brought together by the feelings of exasperation and anger caused by both the rabid OFB (coined by the unabashedly shrill Corrente) and the biased and misogynistic MSM, main stream media.

Here, I began to understand the split between the plugged-online Americans along the lines of the two parties. If the way people exchange ideas are through insults, demeaning remarks, arrogant put downs, it encourages a "You're either with me or against me" mindset.

The ability to be anonymous over the internet seemed to foster this environment where there is no curb on the crude words that are used. Words which can start a fight, break up friendships and almost unheard of just a decade ago flowed easily into the internet from the fingers of these anonymous people.

My feelings are that this environment couple with and hasten the deterioration of the media culture which promotes a pervasive climate where hard work, real knowledge, accomplishments and elders are disrespected and discounted. This trend can be seen over the world with educators feeling it first hand.

It gave me a sudden insight and a feeling of disappointment as to the path the world is walking on.

With the creation of information technology, television, computer, internet, it is without a doubt improving efficiency and production. However, with the bombardment of information, pictures and sound, it is especially ironic that because of this, people grow up with so many distractions that most stop thinking critically and reflectively.

It is the packaging, the loudness, the prettiness, the air of invincibility rather than the substance, the quiet strength, the scrapes and the perseverance that is admired and emulated. There are no more heroes but idols.

I, too, many a times, am caught up in the superficiality of the world. To survive, one has to conform or revolutionize. A tiny protest like mine is drowned out in the cheering for the newest apple product and the newest singing sensation.

I failed. And conformed.

I can pretend but still, my heart remained the outsider, the awkward one, the one looking in.

So little I can choose to cling to, those values I hold dear to my heart, those values I hold dear to the core of my being. I cling to them desperately. They are slipping through my fingers.

My fingers are weary, my heart is sore.

There is no more slowing down of steps to look at things in amazement, there is no more quiet time of the day to sit and ponder, there is no more gathering of friends to argue and converse about ideas. We are so obsessed with material needs and instant gratification, we stopped living and breathing.

Obsess with career, obsess with money, obsess with success, we forget what living is about. It's about learning to be wiser, kinder and stronger, learning the joy of sweat, of labour, of relationships and learning that everyone is imperfect but must strive to be better.

Yes, we must learn to be kinder. There is nothing meaner than a society built on capitalism and meritocracy.

Kinder. We must be.

I am holding on vehemently, painfully so. For every child's lost innocence, someone is weeping.

My aunt Sara, the not-even-40-year-old youngest sister of my not-even-46-year-old mother, who would babysit me and teach me the words to "Shout" by Tears For Fears to impress her friends, who lived in our house off and on for years as she worked one job through high school and two jobs through college, who became my coworker at Apple for 28 months working in the same department as me, our common surname floating back and forth between departments as a brand image of hard work, dry wit, and solid devotion, the person who replaced my father as the family member I could go to for an understanding ear when growing up with a mother like mine seemed like an exercise in futility, is getting married for the first time, to a real man.

It was her very liberal gay-affirming lifestyle which forced the rest of my family to eradicate any doubt or inflexibility when it came to my sexuality, whose presence was always much closer to an older sister and was never without scolding, embarassment or sympathy, with a bedroom containing a gigantic VHS video library, a pastel duvet and notebooks with security protection, will cease to share the same last name.

In all honesty, the chronological path of her love life may end up foreshadowing my own - she someone who was always better at attracting awards and promotions at the office but remained on the dole for several years at a time when it came to men.  But she had very turbulent, dramatic love affairs for highly imperfect, extremely charming, fatally flawed boys that often took her years to move beyond.  Her first boyfriend that I became close to, Billy, was a queer mix of exotic and frumpy (being half-Japanese is quite fancy where I grew up, and might almost have gone unnoticed if it weren't for his Long Duc Dong glasses).   He liked what she liked to the extent that she liked it (extent and depth is a huge deal with our family - we're simply weird people), they were ultimate music and movie nerds and conducted virtually their entire relationship in front of a TV or together at work waiting tables.

His own family, though, was literally falling apart - and disappearing into the afterlife, as his mother committed suicide, his sister followed up with a suicide of her own a year later, and eventually, his father succumbed to illness.  Billy's sister was what can only be classified as a bona fide babe - she was a green-eyed hapa with big boobs, a big smile, and a crafty disguise which obscured her exceptional intellect.  She used to babysit me and also worked at the daycare center that was at that stage of my life a de facto coparent, receiving almost equal time with my mother and collecting tidy sums of her paycheck.  She was not the person you'd expect to voluntarily terminate her agreement early, not concerned in the slightest about that pesky cancellation fee.  In fact, I couldn't understand why his family was so nihilistic, they had a nicer house than ours and they had each other - just the 4 of them in that house with a garage full of tennis racquets and discarded fad toys seemed like the family I was coming to expect, having read only about that type of unit in books, having only heard about it from kids my age.  How could you off yourself when your family has to bury you?  I'm the kind of son who's so afraid of disappointing or hurting my mother that I would probably kill myself only after I had planted sufficient evidence that I had just moved to the Altiplano for 10 years to conduct quinoa research.  And my mother is the type who'd spend exactly 9 years and 364 days worrying but not picking up the phone - then on the day where she finally lends herself permission to worry, she'll find out that I passed away, and the pain won't be stark naked and ugly, it'll be combined with anger and the feeling of being cheated.  My mother loves to worry, but she hates to be lied to - the feeling of betrayal is enough to cancel the two out.

Obviously, Billy's family didn't consider that type of event planning when they decided to pay it forward - so my aunt became connected to a whisper-tone cacophony of sadness, 'arrangements', and flak from superstitutious Texana real estate agents with white perms and whiter Cadillacs.  If I were my aunt, that moment would have probably represented the chance to finally form a new family, combining the hatred for her father and the passing of her mother with his whittled ancestry and desire for stability and dependence.

But like my own few romantic encounters with boys that I felt must need me, he didn't appear able to need her back.  I can see why she buckled inward; there is no reason why it should not have worked out the way she had planned - here was somoene who understood, who was there at the first exposition of tragedy, who, lest we forget, loved the same movies he did.  I still don't know why they broke up at the fulcrum in time when I expected to see a man with a dustpan holding a canister of superglue as a woman hastily and with as much dignity as a tear-stained mess can impart an aura of dignity as she tries to put their wedding china back together.  The answer is that regardless of the intention on both sides, one simply can't superglue two different sets of crockery and expect to hold holiday dinners with it.

So she didn't eat for a while, at least not on anything but paper plates, with ocassional hints of the maturity that buying matching stemware entails.  She finished her 20's and slid into her 30's as a consummate career woman, focused almost solely on tangible goals and milestones, the type that don't talk back, don't change their equations, and don't cause tears.  She paid off her debt, her car, bought a house, started working from home, worked out twice a day if she could squeeze it in, went on eHarmony for months and got nothing but a stream of manufactured young professional mannequins, in shapes and sizes only Austin can produce - the Hyde Park bungalow-owning tech nerd, the musician with a love for animal rescue, the fit cyclist that I was sure was already gay or upon meeting her would become gay, all of them perfectly lovely on paper.

But none of them clicked for her - yet they all couldn't get enough of her.  I mean, it's not very often you get a mid 30's single white woman who loved the suburbs yet defended her liberalism, who had the movie collection of a dork and the career of a nerd.  I can imagine why straight guys on dating sites would always be calling her back as she watched the phone turn over to voicemail.  I can imagine, because I've been there, hooking up with boys with better bodies and tighter jeans, but whose depth of knowledge and taste resembled a cut out paper doll who liked Electroclash or a piece of Microsoft clip art convinced he was a Getty image.

So she kept on working harder at her job, focusing on her friends instead of her fanaticism with relationships, and one day her husband to be stepped back in her life.

Like many of her close relations, she worked with him at Apple - I worked with him at Apple, too, but only met him a couple of times.  I thought I hadn't met him at all until Sara reminded me that not only had I met him, but I had picked them up from the airport in 2000 and we got rear-ended on the highway, totalling my mother's car and resulting in a fat check for a totalled Nissan unibody.  Back then they were just friends, but on that trip, he had professed his love for her, saying that she was the only one for him, and she would have none of it.

Her reason was simple, and it was an excuse she'd used repeatedly in justifying the termination of a budding relationship - his work ethic was terrible.  He was a slacker who got written up for tardiness, who was quite obviously a genius but remained a front-line call center agent, a chubby Latino guy who had only male friends and only wore orange baseball caps.  She liked him as a friend, alright, but even that car accident wouldn't convince her that they should become an item.

Seven years pass, and she's still at Apple, making significantly more money, commanding significantl more power, and looking virtually the same as she always had for being on the downward slope to 40.  Apple moved to a new office, she moved to a new house, boys had come and go but she was still at the age where a career is a phyrric victory and merely cold comfort when there's no boyfriend or husband to share a life with.

She had almost forgotten about him, but her friend said that he was in town - he was moving back to Austin from Salt Lake City.  The memory of having effectively dumped him barely in her mind, she met up with him again and saw the same guy, but saw a different man just the same.  He had grown up, he had struggled and failed a few times and succeeded some more, only to fail again.  Austin was starting over for him; he is nearly her age yet still probably makes less money than I do.

But they watched movies together again and they inched closer as the memories of why she said no the first time resurfaced.  This time, however, she had seen all of those men who'd made it, with their Audis and downtown condos and design jobs, and she didn't feel a thing.  But she felt that spark with him, the same one as with Billy, the same kind of feeling that wouldn't go away, death or no death, job or no job, an overarching emotional blanket covering over her despite his employment issues, despite his weight, and despite his priorities.

So she did what she should have done 7 years ago - loved him back.  He moved into her empty 4 bedroom house a few months after reconnecting, his dog moved in a week or two after that, and he was working with her at Apple again a few months beyond the dog and the moving boxes.

I didn't think much of it, being too busy in New York learning new ways to avoid cocaine sniffles during officewide meetings, I figured this would be just another one of her 'things' that would eventually start to sour.  But they grew closer, and during Christmas, he surprised us all, the guy who had no father and whose mother died when he was a teenager, the Hispanic guy who grew up in a white neighborhood and didn't bother to pronounce the ň in his name, agreed to come over for our traditional mixed-bag, British meets Texas holiday celebration - he had not celebrated Christmas in a decade.  His gastronomical and cultural contribution was terribly bland Mexican fare that put my mother's tastebuds to sleep.  But the mere effort also warmed her heart, as Christmastime at our house is by rule and decree from my mother an entirely non-religious yet eerily supersitious rehearsed substitute, with a linear procession of events resembling Mass in order to pay respect to her ultra religious deceased mother.

Our Christmas morning was one that I imagine many of my friends would be jealous of and would prefer to experience, orchestrated by a present-giving mom who gives strong hints as to what's under the tree but never lets their son, 25-years-old or not, touch any packages until 7:00 in the morning.  She is usually somewhat crabby and lethargic on most days, but during this time of year she becomes a yuletide hostess who relents from her normal nagging against inappropriate food at inappropriate times and makes a huge grocery store trip days in advance, carefully remembering bacon in the morning, orange juice without pulp for the late morning, those butter rolls that come in a weird bag and that resemble the cushions of an old sectional sofa for dinner, and of course, a jar of green olives just for her son, every year occupying its own fancy serving dish, the location of which signifies where I am supposed to sit.  Because they're for me, my mother's only child, coming home from New York for Christmas.  It's still Christmas, regardless of where I live and how old I am, and so the olives are there because I am there.

His easy integration into our unorthodox celebration was pleasing enough, faithfully remaining patience as we enacted our own family playtime, arguing over the playing order of the same holiday movies that only see the light of day on this particular day.  As we got through the claymation one that my mother loves so much, the one she thinks I know every line to but in all honestly I hardly remember, the one with Burgermeister Meisterburger, I saw my aunt's boyfriend, his surname and his body 7 feet away from us in the loveseat, growing very calm and  very silent, maybe holding back tears but maybe not, obviously glued to the television for reasons other than fables told by stop-motion figurines.

I knew that this movie was something that instantly yanked the frames and images in his head backwards a decade or more - to a time when his mother was still alive and therefore he still celebrated Christmas.  I think he understood why we never gave up on celebrating, despite not knowing Jesus, despite credit card debt and anemic (but natural) trees, despite only one male to carve the turkey, the nerdy awkward version of myself that seemed to exist for 13 years instead of the expected 7, I think he understood why we willingly embarrassed ourselved each Christmas with alarming punctuality.   We never gave up on celebrating because we never gave up on each other, and if we didn't keep some kind of tradition alive, ther would be far less than Christmas for us to share - there would be no family at all, nobody to be proud of their son's job in New York or their sister's stock split, nobody to buy the olives and to play the Burgermeister Meisterburger movie.

I know he saw why we marched on as a family right at that moment, but he may have already realized why before this opportune and questionably timed emotional segue.  Like my aunt, he had ignored the presence of a good thing for far too long, realizing that the details may seem awkward and the execution may be shoddy, but what was there was fundamentally great.  I think when he saw our terribly dysfunctional, matriarchal and unusually youthful family come together to celebrate, and then come together to celebrate with him, he realized what my aunt did, that it's never too late as long as you're still welcome and you're still you.

After the food was cleared from the table, after I made my usual excuse to not help with the dishes in the form of an affected nap, after I snuck a quick lunch with my best friend, baby in tow and husband driving a tugboat rental car, I came back from visiting one new family to visiting another new family.

He had something to tell us that he felt the need to make an announcement for.  Never mind that including my mother's boyfriend and my aunt's best friend, there weren't enough of us to possibly be out of earshot, he felt the need to make an announcement.  He did that oh-so traditional thing, the spectacle that elicits a combination of admiration and polite discomfort, he presented my aunt with an engagement ring.

She said yes in a way that gave away the fact that she had already known he wanted to ask and that she had already prepared her affirmatie answer.  She said yes in the way I would say yes if I were ever asked to be someone's life partner, I would smile quickly and hurriedly try to deflect the results of an intimate and irrational event. I'd be just like my aunt, quickly reverting back to a sarcastic joke and trying to make things seem as normal as possible.

It was with the characteristic family trademark of easy embarrassment, coached and affected modesty and overreliance on intellectual and humorous deflection that I knew my aunt was really in love.  In our family, we simply run out of the room if we can't handle it, or we don't invite potential husbands to Christmas celebrations to begin with.  I was impressed at both of them, coming together at the right time in their lives for the right reasons.  It gave me hope that I also might be able to overcome my chronic inability to connect and feel valued by others, even if I'm 37 when it finally disappears from view.

At the time, though, I didn't feel a whole lot in terms of raw emotion, it was all boolean calculation at that point - I was still very much in the depths of social delusion, substance abuse and workplace inadequacy, more focused on my time with Farah and still lamenting the fact that I nearly fucked a stranger from the internet the night before, Christmas eve, in the far suburbs of Austin, during the only three days I'd see my aunt for another 300 beyond that.

It's not as if my aunt needed me to be there for her, for we always grew irritated witheachother's radio selections, jokes and TV shows, but I didn't expect that this storybook endcap that was their marriage to be would continue on without me.  No, they haven't gotten married and eloped behind my back, but they are set to marry soon, and the date and location came as a total surprise.

It's going to be in Rome, its going to be rather soon, and it was clearly not designed with myself or my mother among the priorities - I probably won't have the money to get there, and she knows that my mother has a clinical hatred for central Europe, having grown up there only to prefer a place that is the polar opposite and much more equatorial in nature.   Of course, I could easily save up money and be there in time to see her off (god knows why she picked a cliche place such as Rome) , so I suppose it's just the fact that I found out when and where in the form of a mass produced note that hurt my feelings.

That note was why I wrote about her instead of about all the other important things going on in my life (and there's plenty I have not writen about that deserves a mention).  I already have accepted that most of my friends in New York have done very little to keep up with me, to make sure I haven't died or overdosed or gotten too fat.  I've gotten over it, because I was a hard person to handle during those turbulent times in Brooklyn, and lord knows I deserve to give others a bit of leeway for forgetting the details in life.  I went from having many many people in my phone book and having so many places to go to having nothing but my job and a few distant connections keeping me from a full out devolution of my social faculties.

But I just never thought that I'd have withdrawn so gradually, for such a long duration, that my aunt, the only family member other than my mother left on this continent that is just one punnett's square away from myself, wouldn't call or IM me about it.  I know I'm exaggerating, but if this were the old me, I would have kept up enough to prevent this snap and cut of copper wire that makes even responding to an email so bothersome.

I'm at a crossroads of my life right now - I sometimes wonder if I'll hit 30, and I do not say that because I fetishize death or feel suicidal - I have always carried a strong suspicion, in the form of dozens of repeated dream sequences since I was 8 years old, that I would fall off the edge of the earth at the end of this decade.  When you look at my recent life, from working at Apple at age 18 to making lots of money in New York, to having friends to party with every night and thinking that's what you're supposed to want, and then you turn the pages to read about all of the depravity and ejaculation, then the next chapter revealing a filthy apartment in nasty Seattle, with even nastier men and even fewer friends, you begin to wonder if the paper stock seems awfully thin, the numbers too high, then a hurried, conclusionary tone from the writer signals time is slipping into the future far too fast.

Just like Hillary's noticeable lack of her trademark plea for money as she wrote to her delusional supporters marks the end of her ride, I wonder if I'm approaching my finale, with a publisher's blurb on the back page of a profitable, easy-sell paperback existence.  People have grown used to the fact that I no longer call them, email them, message them and scream to them about my loneliness, about my frustration and depression, just like they've grown used to Hillary's crying and her windmill chasing through Appalachia.   As my aunt prepares her marriage, her nephew lives in an apartment where instead of cleaning up his room he simply quarantines the contents therein and moves the bed to the living room, seemingly unafraid to close the blinds as I change my clothes, too busy to do the laundry as I willingly put forth another 12-hour workday.

I know that this this a real moment of reckoning as an adult - I'm not off in Connecticut or Massachusetts or East East Bushwick or the Mission District doing what kids my age do, facing career uncertainty or the realization that your arts degree just doesn't translate to much - I'm ever more ambitious at my job that required no schooling to obtain, working too hard for people who may not deserve the yield from my labor.   I'm willing to admit that i've had dozens of sexual encounters in Seattle yet not one good night kiss among those spoogefests.  I go to work, I have sex, and I barely notice as everyone else marches on - and they barely notice back, too busy with their feet in a one-two-three formation.

Like my aunt was after her boyfriend left her more than a decade ago, I'm faced with death, rejection and a feeling of incompatibility with anybody but the one I cannot have.  But she survived through working hard and learning to love other things about life.  It's with her eventual marriage and success that I am similarly hopeful that I won't disappear around 30 like Billy did.

Here's hoping - I'm off to another 12-hour work day, the length by choice and the overtime willingly unreported.