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The Eternity Articles Act 1 Scene 06
__________________________________________________
/ /
/ The Eternity Articles /
/ /
/ Act I, Scene vi -- August 1995 /
/_________________________________________________/
\ \
\ Who am I?: Sanjay Singh \
\ eternity@cyberspace.org \
\_________________________________________________\
"It's a constant fight
You're pushing the needle to the red
Who know's who's right
No substitute, you're born, you're dead
Created out of fantasy
Our destination calls..." [Yes]
This issue is not something I was actually looking forward to
doing. In the first issue I picked a fairly emotional topic,
something that was fairly meaningful to me, and I worked with it
and got the issue out and it started off this entire saga. The
problem was that I wasn't really looking forward to confronting my
emotions again, anytime soon. Some shadows belong in the corners,
and some skeletons belong in the closet, and I just wanted to keep
them there. But sometimes, you have to stand up and punch your way
out of the darkness. I'm going to try to do it again in this
issue. Lucidity is not something that I will promise for this
issue, but that just goes with getting under my skin. I have to
keep on reminding myself of what I'm doing this for. Yes, I'm
doing it for you, but I'm also doing this for me, this is my
release, it's either vent or explode. For my own clarity, I've
decided to split up the emotion content of this issue between the
issue that you're reading right now, and the one you should be
getting next month.
The July/August border has always been a rough time of year
for me, or at least for the last five years. It's been rough, and
nowhere near to merciful in dredging up painful memories. That's
the story that I probably should be telling, my biggest secret.
It's the heaviest weight on my chest right now, and maybe I should
follow my own advice and try to get rid of it. But that's my cross
to bear. Last time I told the story, the price was pretty costly,
and there's nothing that I can do to take it all back, so I have to
live with it. Mea Culpa.
Well I see a dark winding road off in the distance, I suppose
we should see where it takes us...
Addictions & Obsessions
=======================
"It's getting hard to wake up in the morning,
My head is spinning constantly, how could it be?
How could I be so blind to this addiction?
If I don't stop the next one's gonna be me,
Only emptiness remains,
It replaces all of the pain." [Martika]
As promised, I'm going to try to wrap up that addiction piece
that ended up morphing (there, I said it) into a useless tirade
against (or was it for?) Mickey and his new liver. So before I get
caught in the same trap again, on with the show...
I suppose the big question that I was trying to get at was
back to the standard nature versus nurture argument... But now I
realize that that would be pointless. I've always been against the
'blame society' ideology, so it couldn't be nurture. So I guess
that leaves us with nature. The problem with that argument is that
it leads to the question, "are some of us destined to become
addicts?" I don't know. Maybe. I've dealt with, and gotten past
(not over) some of my former addictions (although at the time, it
didn't seem like I had much of a choice), and I still carry some of
my less harmful vices through to today.
I could easily say that I am addicted to caffeine. Anyone
that I've talked to through email in the morning (I usually check
between waking up, and going to work) has probably heard me
apologize for being somewhat incoherent due to the lack of
caffeine, coursing through my body, but then again, I think I
mentioned that a couple of months ago too. I can't imagine a day
that doesn't begin with three cups of tea, or coffee, or even Dr.
Pepper (thanks for the Big Slam by the way), and then another two
cups as soon as I get into the office. So it'll be around ten
o'clock in the morning, and I'm already juiced on five cups, any
less and I'd probably be flipping in and out of consciousness. A
friend of mine told me about some mixture called a 'lava coffee' (I
think), which is basically Dr. Pepper filtered through coffee
grounds, and I actually thought that that might be interesting.
I still go through about two or three of those big packs of
Wrigley's gum a week (depending on my stress level). But that's
more of an addiction substitution. Whenever I get a certain
craving, or a need to "drown my sorrows", just pop in a piece or
two. On those extra long days, I've even gone through an entire
pack of seventeen sticks. Probably not healthy, but my dentist
probably loves it.
Obsessions are pretty similar to addictions for me too. I
think that these rantings would probably count as an obsession now.
I don't think it's quite on of those hobby things. I find that
hobbies are a lot more passive. You know, you'll work on it when
you get around to it. An obsession, is much more... tangible. You
can see what needs to be done. You can almost taste the desire to
do it. It's a very... unique way of looking at things, but I like
that definition, at least for myself.
I find myself obsessed with my past. I keep on reliving the
same events over and over, playing those stupid 'what if' games
with myself, and always losing. I keep on having the same dreams
and nightmares that have plagued me on and off for the past five
years. I couldn't call it an addiction, because I don't want to
think that I need this to get by. I'd prefer to think of it as
something that keeps on coming up, constantly asking to be dealt
with. "Are we there yet?" But for some reason, which still
doesn't make any sense to me, I just ignore the voices, and try to
bury everything, deeper and deeper inside me. Just hoping that one
time I'll be able to push it down so far, that it'll never find its
way out. No, it's not healthy. No, it's a really bad thing. No,
I would desperately try to stop anyone else I know from doing the
same thing to themselves. Who enjoys watching two of their friends
fight it out? And even worse, what happens when both of those
friends are the same person? But I guess that's just my way of
doing things, it isn't the best way to deal with things, but maybe
one day it'll work, and then I'll be able to relax, let down my
guard and say that "I did it my way." Ah-yah-cha-cha.
The Wagon Ran Me Over
=====================
"Gotta kick at the darkness, until it bleeds daylight."
[Bruce Hornsby]
"I was young and foolish then, I feel old and foolish
now." [They Might Be Giants]
I'm trying to decide how much detail I should go into here.
Thanks to my wonderful double life that I had a while ago, I could
end up using this to tell some friends stuff that they didn't know
about me, and maybe I didn't want them to know. On the other hand,
this is what 'Eternity' is all about. This is my fight, this is my
battle, this is my war, this is my never ending story...
I could keep on dancing with my words, and let you guess the
story. I've been doing that enough that I'm a pretty good dancer
now (not on my feet, just with words). I'd probably make a decent
spin doctor right now. I can hide the truth as easily as I can
share it. Obscurity is now just another reflex. I can dodge
questions that I don't want to answer, and then at other times, the
answer just explodes out of me. I think the bottom line is that,
maybe I just don't want to dance anymore.
Let's talk about getting over the hump. Going cold turkey.
Getting off the wagon. Kicking and screaming the entire way
whenever the demon tries to grab you. I've faced my demons. And
here's the story behind them... This is the first time that I've
actually told this story without seeing the face of my audience, so
try to understand if I leave out some details, or just decide to
stop. The dancing shoes are coming off...
I guess it all started back in 1990. I was fifteen, and
thought that I was carrying the entire world on my shoulders. I
felt the pressure of the responsibility. I thought that I had
suffered, I thought I knew what pain was. I thought I needed to
escape from the world. So, what was the easiest, cheapest, and
quickest way for a fifteen year old to do that? So, I met up with
a couple of friends, and we formed our own little 'social' club.
Actually there were only six of us. Three couples, all the best of
friends, all like fishes out of water.
Alcohol was the easy choice. A friend of mine made up this
little riddle for me after the smoke had cleared. "What do you get
when you take a kid that wants to stay young forever, and force him
to grow up too quickly?" I've stuck with that for a while now, and
it still seems to fit me. I was actually leading the first issue
off with that one, until Scott came up with his quote, so I used
that instead. Anyways, back to alcohol. Adults did it. I thought
I wanted to be an adult. I thought that I earned it. I thought
that I could handle it. I thought wrong.
Doing anything for the wrong reasons usually turns out to be
more trouble than it's worth. Drinking mass quantities is one of
them. At least for me it was. Don't worry, I won't start
preaching about the dangers of the bottle. If you wanted a
lecture, you could find someone to give it to you easily enough.
This little game of 'drown the liver' went on for not too long
actually. About three or four months. It wasn't too eventful,
just getting pissed every couple of nights. Escaping the horrors
of reality... Then IT happened. You don't get to hear this. I
could sum it up as a bad experience, but I'd prefer to think of it
as a life changing experience, and it changed life for the worse.
This is my secret, and I'll tell you that right now, it's going to
the grave with me. Last time I told, I was punished and lost my
best friend. I refuse to take that chance again.
So I'll tell you what stopped me from returning, even when
things had gotten worse...
About a month after IT happened, I was on vacation with my
family in sunny Florida for a month. During that time, one of the
six (emotionally, she was my sister) was driving her boyfriend home
one night. All of a sudden a drunk truck driver ends up on her
side of the road. He clips her car and keeps on going (they pulled
him over further down the highway)... Meanwhile, their car is spun
like a top, and stops when it hits the light post. He escapes with
a couple of scratches and cuts, and a pair of broken ribs. She,
lived for three hours, two of them awake and in his arms. She felt
it all, and he couldn't do anything to help her. No phones, no one
willing to pull over and 'get involved.' When I came back, he
called me and told me everything. He didn't hold back, and I
didn't want him to. I tried to absorb his pain, his emotion. He
was a brother to me, and if I could have taken all of his pain
away, and felt the brunt of it myself, I would have. I tried to
take it all away. I tried to take some of it away. But I
couldn't. I took everything I could away from him, to the point
that now it feels like I was there that night. I held her in my
arms, and hear her cries. Trying to be strong for both of us.
Trying to be strong for her.
What do you say to a guy that lost the only thing that
mattered to him in his life? He was unstable before, and after
that, there was no stopping him. He tried everything to stop his
pain. We went on a self destructive binge, hoping that somehow he
could find the strength to stop the pain forever. Every August
19th since that night, he goes out to the closest bar he can find,
and just stares at a double shot glass. Too afraid to touch it,
but trying to draw his strength from it. The last time that I
talked to him was two years ago, he's still not over her, and to be
honest, neither am I.
This is part of the picture. Why I'm terrified to head back
to the bottle. Even socially. I can't take the chance anymore.
If just a kid, hiding in the shadows, hoping that the boogey man
won't be able to find me. Just stay really still, and you'll be
safe. So for the longest while, that's what I did. I hid in the
shadows. I became almost invisible. Just wrap yourself up into a
little ball, and hope that a shell will form around you. When that
didn't work, I turned to 'Eternity'. Hoping to draw some semblance
of strength from this, from you.
I've followed the same path as him. Almost. Once he told me
that he saw too much of himself in me, that little riddle puzzled
me for a long time, I think I only realized fully what he meant
last year. I dabbled in pain. Had a little ritual of staring at
a vodka bottle that I had kept, as a sick reminder, on the same
July night, year after year. Eventually I threw that into an
airfield behind where I used to work one night, too bad it had
already cost me another friend before I realized that I needed to
get rid of it. I can remember everything as vividly right now, as
I could after the fog of my last hangover was lifted. A lot of
people wake up the next morning thinking "I did what?" and getting
embarrassed over the previous night's adventures... I get
nightmares about what I did, and sometimes I still wake up in a
cold sweat.
If there was a Ron Co. product that could erase memories, and
keep them hidden away somewhere far, far away, where I wouldn't
have to deal with them, these would be the first ones I'd want to
lose. Then again, these are the last ones I'd want to lose as
well. Duality, hypocrisy, and split decisions. Call it what you
want, I just want to hurting to stop. End of round two.
I think that's enough raw emotion for this issue. I might
continue this idea next month, depends on how I react to it, and
how you react to it, but for now here's some of the more regular
stuff...
A Day In The Life...
====================
"I read the news today, oh boy..." [The Beatles]
The television critic. Almost as useless as that couple that
quit their jobs to review infomercials. What's next? The
Infomercial Awards? I can see it now. Ron Popeil would get the
lifetime achievement award, and a special gift for coming up with
the pocket fisherman (spool of thread with a hook). Mike Levy
would get the most annoying male host, and Susan Powter would get
the most obnoxious female host. And Dr. Nick Riveria would get the
fastest reflex award from ducking out of the way of that chair
(sorry, the Simpsons were just on). Just what the world needed.
Anyways, back to the television critic. What's the point? I
was reading the Toronto Star this morning, not really looking for
material, but instead I found two articles that I could actually
twist into whatever shape suited me best at the time. So the first
article I came across was in the Entertainment section, written by
none other than Jim Bawden, TV Columnist (it used to say critic).
Anyways, I guess he had to fill up a bit of space, because he chose
the media's favourite filler next to Kato Kaelin's latest
exploits... pornography!
I won't bother reprinting the article, but I'll give you a
couple of quick snips from it. Oh, and if you want to find the
article, it's the Monday June 26, 1995 issue, page E1.
Paragraph 3, "Over the past few months, I've been receiving
complaints about the promotion of naughty movies on the pay-per-
view service. All the calls came from mothers who said they were
embarrassed when ads for the movies appeared on their screens.
Young children started asking questions while impressionable teens
wondered out loud how the service might be ordered."
My first question was, "why are all these mothers calling
him?" And my next thought was, wasn't it supposed to be the
parent's jobs to teach their kids about sex? I think that question
is supposed to be the cue for pulling our blanket's of denial over
our heads. Does everybody have their's on?
Kids asking about sex? Nah, can't be. Teenagers trying to
get their hands on porn? Impossible! But I suppose, if parents
are willing to let their kids watch Barney, while trying to ban the
Power Rangers, then anything's possible.
So, Jim "the Puritan" Bawden, get's off his pedestal (or
perhaps onto a higher one) and calls up his local cable company,
and orders "Nurses In Lust." (I'm serious.) I'm guessing that he
watched the entire thing, because he give a quick little review of
it. "... this was an A to Z compendium of pornography, including
oral sex, lesbianism, and anal intercourse." Doesn't sound like he
was closing his eyes, plugging his ears with his fingers, and
humming Amazing Grace during the movie, does it? And as a
footnote, he was shocked that it was directed by a woman. Like
women aren't allowed in the industry or something. Who did he
think was doing the lesbian scene?
Anyways, one wasn't enough for his article. So now he orders
"Nikki's Casting Couch." Not on the next day, but right after.
I'm not sure if he actually got around to watching all of this one
though. All he said was that it "was just as sexually explicit and
stupid." But I'm sure that ordering two pornos in one night was
purely research, right? Some people take pens from work, others,
well...
Almost at the end of the article he has this to share with us,
"Are you, like me, ever so slightly queasy at the thought of
pornography available on demand with a simple phone call? I've
heard from some mothers about this. But no feminists have phoned
complaining about the degradation of women. I think that's sad."
Poor little Jimbo, couldn't find any feminists to back him up
on this one. So all he's got is probably a small handful of
mothers that caught their kids 'in the act,' so to speak. And why
isn't he bothers that you can get it in any video store or
convenience store in the neighbourhood? Maybe as long as it's not
in his house he doesn't have to admit that it exists, but it might
have actually given him some credibility.
Personally, this doesn't bother me, it's just the fact that
I'm being preached at, which does. His big complaint seems to all
rely on the fact that you can watch such explicit sex without even
needing to go to your local video store, and flashing some ID.
Which is probably a valid claim. But I don't think you can just
blame it on viewers choice. Everyone knows how to turn off a
television. A reasonably large chunk of the population subscribes
to pay-tv, which gets you all the movies you can watch, unedited
and without those pesky commercials all day, including, guess what,
soft-core porn pretty much all night, every night.
So, you just won't get pay-tv. Easy enough, but you can get
the same stuff on cable, you just have to watch the commercials.
So just cut cable out of the equation. So what's left? Network
TV? Well, you can get the same stuff there too, maybe not as
often, but I remember watching Porky's, uncut, on channel seven,
way back in public school. So it looks like the only problem is to
toss the television out the window. Problem solved and I think
that it's safe to take off the blankets now...
Similar Features
================
"Go on and close your eyes, imagine me there,
She's got similar features, but longer hair
And if that's what it takes, to get you through,
Go on and close your eyes, it shouldn't bother you."
[Melissa Etheridge]
Oh what a bastard am I. What a jerk, what an idiot, what an
uncaring, insensitive brute am I. How could I do this?
I think I've been leading on a close and dear friend of mine
for too long. Hell, anytime is too long. We've always gotten
along well, but the problem is that I think that whenever I've felt
'that way' about her, it's because of her similarities to someone
that left me a while ago. She doesn't even have that much in
common with me, but I don't like obstacles, so what do I do? I try
to mold her into the other her (this might get complicated, but
bear with me, I don't feel like alienating anyone right now, so no
names). I've tried to convince myself that they have the same
personality (which they don't). At best, the only thing they have
in common, is a very slight resemblance. But sometimes that's
enough for me to work my twisted magic on.
Especially after everything I yammered on and on about last
month. She's a true friend. I like her, I respect her, maybe I
even trust her. So, let's just send my mind on a vacation, and let
my heart try to screw up another great friendship for me. Maybe
someday I'll learn, right?
For everyone else, love seems to be many a splendoured thing.
So why is it that I have to twist it into some sick and perverted
game? Everything else is a game to me, why not this too? Why is
it that everytime I find someone that I actually feel close to, I
have to do something stupid to destroy it all. Not just the
relationship. Not just the friendship. But both lives? It never
seemed this complicated in the movies. But then again, my world is
a little different from Hollywood. Probably more like one of those
obscure french movies, where everyone dies in the end, except for
the hero, he gets to go insane.
What We Need
============
I spent a bit of this weekend watching the Live Aid rerun and
it got me thinking. The first couple of thoughts were "so this is
why everyone always raves about Queen's segment" and "how come no
one told me that the Cars were there?" After a while I actually
started to get some rational thoughts forming, and so as usual, you
get to hear them first.
How come our (or at least my) generation never really had a
defining 'come together' moment like that? It doesn't need to be
a concert, but I think that's what we need. There's no point in
trying to deny that we're probably the single most apathetic group
of people in the twentieth century. From where I'm standing, I can
see myself being too old to really be wrapped up in anything. I
was ten when Live Aid originally aired, and all I can remember was
that it was getting in the way of all of my weekend cartoons. So
I'm too young to have been affected by Live Aid, and I'm far too
old to have gotten trapped in the turtles or the rangers. Besides,
I was never a big fan of the surf scene, so why would I want to
watch a bunch of California Dreamin' turtles beating the snot out
of bad guys in sewers. And, well the Power Rangers just speak for
themselves. The only thing that I can think of relating to with
that is that seven years ago my boss's name was Rita, and well
let's just say that there were similarities.
What have we got? Nothing comes to mind. Maybe, if you
really want to stretch it, you could use the Freddie Mercury
tribute concert at Wembley, but I don't think that that united
everyone. All it really did was convince Queen fans that Axl Rose
was about as close to an anti-christ that you'll ever find. So
where's our moment? What do we have that we can talk about ten or
even twenty years from now when we're mingling at an office party,
and trying to come up with some meaningless drivel for small talk?
I'm far too young to ask anyone where they were when Kennedy was
shot. My parents probably didn't even know each other back then.
But I'm not just looking for a conversation piece. I think we
need to find something that we can all rally around. Something
that everyone actually cares about enough to want to fight to fix
it. This goes beyond boycotting TicketMaster because they have a
service charge.
I thinking about the 'concert festivals' that we have now.
Lollapalooza is just really bad music, played really loud, all
against commercialism, and all the profits going to Perry Farell.
Woodstock '94 was an attempt to join everyone together, but no one
really cared enough to realize that, the commercialism there didn't
help its reputation any either. No one can agree with the ideas
behind any of these, so it just doesn't count.
No one cares about politics anymore, all anyone is willing to
say is that whoever is in power is doing it wrong. The only thing
that people seem to care about any more is the almighty dollar.
And that's not really a symbol that's worth all the attention that
it seems to be receiving. And the environmental crisis was put on
the back burner as soon as people figured out that no one really
gets impressed when you recycle and compost, and it actually takes
a bit of effort to accomplish.
Why? Why can't we seem to find anything that's worth
fighting. I don't even think that this is our fault. I think this
is just lousy timing. All the crap that the world has to throw at
us seems to be falling in my timeframe. There's nothing worth
getting worked up over. So what can we do? Invent something?
Maybe. I'm not sure, but at least I think I found what part of the
problem might be. What to do with this information? Maybe I'll
figure it out somewhere down the line. I'll have to let you know
when I get something.
Ender's Game
============
"'Ender's Game' was written and sold. I knew it was a
strong story because I cared about it and believed in it.
I had no idea that it would have the effect it had on the
audience. While most people ignored it, of course, and
continue to live full and happy lives without reading it
or anything else by me, there was still a surprisingly
large group who responded to the story with some
fervency." [Orson Scott Card]
Alright, I fell into a little trap recently. I haven't really
gotten into a book for a while. I mean really gotten into a book.
I think the last book that I couldn't put down was "The 97th Step"
by Steve Perry, and that was early last summer. So it caught me a
bit off guard when I fell into "Ender's Game" by Orson Scott Card.
Last night, around 11:30 I was feeling tired so I figured that
I'd just go to bed, and maybe get through a couple of chapters
before I nodded off. Next thing I know is that it's 3:30, and I'm
about 250 pages further than I planned on going.
I was trying to decide whether I should actually include this
little 'review' into the articles this month, but then I figured
that I've plugged other books (Osirian Rhapsody, kinda), so why
not? So what if it is commercial, I never pretended to be above
that. No one's paying me to do this, so it's still my choice.
Anyways, we are talking about a real book here. I picked it
up because it seemed interesting enough, and I wanted a book to
read. It had won a couple of awards (which really don't count for
too much anyways, but it won them) so I figured that throwing away
the seven dollars wouldn't be that much of a waste.
So now here I am, a day later, and with less than fifty pages
to go, and I'm thinking 'what a great book.' I'm sitting here at
work (during lunch) and all morning I was thinking about how would
I react to this event, and that event that the main character had
to deal with. As best as I can describe it, this book is a cross
between "Rogue Warrior" (Richard Marcinko) and "Lord of the Flies"
(William Golding).
From the authors notes, this is a love hate book. Either you
relate to the characters and love it, or you look at it as an
outsider and hate it. It's been around for a while, so someone
reading this might have even read it at one point, I'd be
interested in hearing your views on it.
Anyways, I like it. It's a great story, but also one that I
couldn't really hide from, so I was pulled right into it. Go to
the library if you don't feel like buying it, it's one that I would
recommend. Take that for whatever it's worth to you.
And They Said It Couldn't Be Done
=================================
Well, being the sixth issue and all, it seems kind of fitting
that I acknowledge someone. The problem is who. So after a bit of
thought I think I've come up with the perfect person. This issue
is dedicated to Ms. Waterbury, my tenth grade english teacher. She
was the first teacher that let me find out what I could do instead
of telling me what I couldn't. She might not have taught me how to
fly, but she showed me that I didn't need to listen when people
said that it was impossible.
About The Web Page
==================
I managed to get a day off this week, so I've spent my day
editing this issue and fixing my web page. So if you took a look
at it earlier, or you haven't seen it yet, it might be worth a
quick glance. All I need to do now is learn how to add a form and
I think it should be set. Anyways, the address is listed below.
Anyways, comments are welcome. I'd like to know what should be
fixed or improved.
Stuff You Really Need To Know...
================================
Well if you have this then you probably know how you got it,
but in case this was passed on to you, then I'll just let you know
where you can find it.
ftp: ftp.etext.org: /pub/Zines/WhyMe/
gopher: gopher.etext.org (follow the prompts)
web: http://www.interlog.com/~vash/ (new and improved!)
mail: if you want a copy of an old issue sent by mail then just
send a request to me at the eternity address. If you ask
for a copy I'll send one to you.
subscriptions: Just send me mail, I'll add you to the list. All I
ask is that you let me know what you think about
this 'zine, and you can even mention how you found
out about it. That's not asking too much is it?
Order of distribution: mailing list, web page, ftp/gopher site
As always, if you have a question, comment, statement, rant,
or anything, feel free to let me know. There's always room for me
to improve, and there's always room for an extra page of filler.
Disclaimer
==========
I take full responsibility of the overall content here. There
might be other contributors (and what they say is their own
intellectual property), but what goes into this is my choice.
Truth is subjective (if you believe something then to you it is
fact, and if you don't then it is fiction, simple enough?) so I
won't make any claims about honesty... believe what you want. If
you're going to use something from here just make sure that you
cite whoever wrote the article. If it doesn't say who wrote it,
then it's probably me.
Still asking: If you know anything about ISSN numbers, like
where I can get one, or what I need them for, or even if I need
one, could you please let me know... Everyone else has one, and I
want one too. Thanks.
Sanjay Singh (7/21/95)
