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| THANKSGIVING DAY BUSKING |
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| BUSHWAKKER STAGE OCTOBER |
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| MY COLLEAGUE, ACE |
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| ODIS PORTRAIT |
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| ODIS PICTURE |
Admittedly, whatever I spill out on any of my pages is my propaganda
for whatever issues happen to be lingering on my mind. For the most part this propaganda is empirically
gathered, whilst remaining zeroth in terms of being economically reliant. (I am stating that I’m not politically
motivated for profit, only for notoriety.)
I am referring not only to this blog entry, but to every blog entry
before and those after today’s read. For example, all of the pictures posted above represent my propaganda agenda of self-promotion.
My regular readers will recognize that I am continually
expressing certain themes, especially the road theme. I’m guessing (in psychologically educated
fashion) that my recurring road theme must certainly be a projection of one of
my innermost yearnings. There is no
doubt this is the case. For quite a long
time I’ve longed to be a planetary busker.
I pine to travel the planet and hike and busk (with either guitar or pencil) at all my stops. This is my muse – this is not quite my
reality.
And so to continually write about my imaginings I tend to contaminate
(perhaps belittle is a more
appropriate descriptor) the notions of other
regular folk who do not share even
the same dreams as I.
My essay today, as always, begins with a snappy title. Snappy titles,
I’ve been told, have become part of my writing signature. Keeping up with such bluster it’s rather
incumbent upon me, I’ve decided, to concoct words worthwhile and phrases
philosophical to deserve the letter space beneath my snappy captions.
Admittedly, I have been somewhat stigmatized by certain peers
because of my delusionary travel dreams.
I hike as frequently as my days allow and I busk as much as the weather
permits. And with regard to this stigma
I am a precious repository.
According to Erving Goffman there are three categories of
stigma, and I am playing to win in all three categories.
- BODY ABERRATIONS
In my counselling experiences, all of us have body blemishes
that are unwanted. Those of us having
curly hair wish for straight hair, is my favorite humorous example. But those of us who are short who long to be
tall is not humorous.
Any short guy publicly demonstrating inappropriate attitude
is often described as suffering “little-man syndrome” according to his
critics. This is a stereotype I know,
but I know, too, that such a prejudice stems from explaining empirical
experiences.
Factoid:
I suffer not a lot from my imaginary body aberrations. One of my greatest fears is becoming a
skinny-fat guy, skinny arms with a pot belly.
To alleviate such a fear, I lift weight practically every day, and
long-distance run on sunny days.
(I stand six feet one inch and so do not suffer from
“little-man syndrome.” Rather, I suffer the Apollonian
syndrome.)
- TRIBAL
As far as tribal concerns, being a middle-class white guy, I
have never suffered a prejudice with regard to the color of my skin. And as far as religion is concerned, who
would ever know unless I tell them that I am an existentialist (long term for
atheist). I am thinking that Goffman’s
reference to tribal stigmas would be referring to mainly groups with which we
associate, and I am just bracketing the first two that come to mind, that of
race and religion are the first ones coming to my mind.
Factoid:
Being tall (in the last bullet) and white (in this bullet) has thus far
left me unscathed in the oppressive social stigma department.
- CHARACTER BLEMISHES
Character blemishes stigmatize in brutal fashion. Narcissism has become a bandwagon nemesis
among victim-clients in the relationship arenas; and, gas lighting has become
the common phrase describing the bully antics of the narcissist antagonist
involved. Narcissism is listed a
personality disorder, and I am characterizing this as an example of a character blemish.
Factoid: I am filled with character blemishes. I am arrogant (I am, most times, the smartest
guy in the room); I prefer to ride alone (I do not enjoy group work because I
am, most times, the smartest guy in the room and therefore have no patience for
others’ stupid questions and pseudo-philosophical discussions).
And I will add a fourth category: AGE.
- AGE
Time is on my side in this regard. I do not mean time in the sense of running out the clock, but time in the sense of my having been on
the planet for 68 years, suggesting my 68 years of life experience gives me the
time credentials to express my empirical
voice of authority.
Factoid:
People insist I neither look nor act my age. I can attribute my not-looking-my age to
genetics; while I can attribute my not-acting-my age to adhering to B.F.
Skinner’s advice, and I paraphrase: If you want to get old, just act like your
old. Complain to everyone about your
ailments and have people open doors for you and physically assist you through
those doors.
Taking advantage of all my play-to-win attributes
list above, I usually win because of my simple strategy of letting the
game come to me. For example, I never need to
solicit for social opportunity. Being the
coolest and smartest and fittest guy in the room, familiar strangers forever
gambol for my acquaintance, forever seek my advice, never challenge
my positions or actions.
A play-to-win attitude takes discipline. I compensate for my imagined future body
aberrations by staying fit. I steer
clear the stigma of tribal propensity by being apolitical and
non-evangelical. I conceal my stigmatic
character blemishes by being a loner, drifting in solitary fashion avoiding,
generally, any foofaraw. I desist the
stigma of age, simply by not acting my age.
And whether I am on contract for others or for myself, I never take
political advantage of my age. I am a
company guy and my obeisance to my bosses and clients is steadfast.
To simply let the game come
to you is the
acknowledgement that to live is to suffer.
As long as you are breathing, things positive and things negative will
always come into your life.
Let things
come to you and deal with each thing accordingly.
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