Crazy for life

“I love my crazy lifestyle, and I love my hard discipline. I love my freedom of speech and the way my eyes get dark when I’m tired. I love that I have learned to trust people with my heart, even if it will get broken. I am proud of everything that I am and will become.” — Johnny Weir

. . . . . . . Insanity — it’s a rough business, no doubt. There’s the hardcore schizophrenic, who hears voices in his head. What to do about him? Well, if he can function in society, nothing. Let him let his freak flag fly.

. . . . . . . But then I’m biased in favor of freak flags. I’m half-freak myself, on my mother’s side. (Dad was an engineer. But he’s a cool guy.)

. . . . . . . You can’t expect crazy people to do normal things, even when they’re on medication. Maybe especially when they’re on the meds. All that craziness has to bubble out somewhere, it’s like water from an underground spring. You can divert it but eventually it’s going to come out.

. . . . . . . Most of us know that one guy who was fucking nuts but technically solvent in society, meaning he could rub two nickels together and get a quarter. What I’m trying to say is I’ve known guys who were off their rocker, but they could be productive. They could lead productive lives. They weren’t a burden on society.

. . . . . . . In British Columbia, there’s Persons With Disabilities. In Ontario, there’s the Ontario Disability Support Program. It’s all the same thing: government handouts to people who could work, but have decided it’s better to be on the dole. Canada is chock full of this sort of thing. It’s the welfare state par exemplar where everyone deserves a second (and a third, and a fourth) chance.

. . . . . . . In the good old days, back in ye medieval times, life was harsher. You fucked up once, you were dead. There was no early release from prison — there were those little teeny cages they hung fuckers in. There were iron maidens that slammed shut on you with spikes. There was drawing and quartering. There were none of the post-modern psych-jail games we play in today’s First World kiddy playgrounds.

. . . . . . . The wardens have become as unto children. This is clear.

. . . . . . . We’ve grown soft at the same time as we’ve grown intolerant. We’ve grown intolerant of people acting a little crazy so we force-feed pills on them. Or the kids with their Ritalin. Meanwhile, contrariwise, we’ve grown soft in punishing people who’ve broken the law, so we release them early from prison with good behavior and time served. It’s a mommy’s directorate, crammed full of bitchy, assaultive nannies.

. . . . . . . The solution to crazy people is to allow the rest of us to separate from them if we want. It’s called the right of free association. If I don’t want to be around Crazy Jim, then polite society shouldn’t force me to stand him. But you know, crazy people are often the most interesting. In England, they call them eccentrics, and they’re truly nuts. But at least they’re not cookie-cutter people who live lives identical to a thousand other men’s.

. . . . . . . They’re true iconoclasts and originals. They smash shit for good reason. They’re crazy, but not that crazy.

. . . . . . . We used to think the crazy were touched in the head because they were “touched by God.” It was assumed, even in shamanistic times when you had tribes and clans, that getting close to a looney was good for you in certain senses. Certainly, these were harmless people. The paranoid schizophrenic who cuts the head off a co-traveler on a bus is a pretty rare thing.

. . . . . . . There’s a well-understood highlevel belief that genius and insanity are close kissing cousins. And that’s true, I think. I think what it takes to be really, really smart is that you get loosey-goosey around the edges. It’s that plastic flexibility of mind that enables you to make your really great leaps of thought and move forward. Even crazy beliefs can be enough to make a crazy thinker: Newton believed in alchemy, for instance, with zero proof.

. . . . . . . Zero-proof types aren’t as common as you might think. It’s mainly confined to the really smart set. The dumber types don’t do innovation in the first stages enough to encounter zero-proof problems. As an example of the smart not heeding proof, Communist-politics worshippers had zero proof that Marxism was going to work out, yet they remained committed to the cause even when the bad news began to filter out of the Soviet Union. That’s crazy — crazy isn’t doing what failed before and expecting a different result, but it’s getting new information and refusing to budge or otherwise act or pro-act on it.

. . . . . . . Life is a game, in a way. You’ve gotta play to win. Crazy people are playing at the roulette table rather than the winnable blackjack table. They’re handicapped by their heads. By the way, fucking crazy girls really does lead to hot sex. But then there’s what those girls do when they get obsessed with you. I’ve been stalked before, and it’s no fun, let me tell you. It’s supposed to be cool and all that, but it really isn’t. It’s even worse when a girl calls in her friends to help her stalk you. That’s happened to me, Catxman. Yes, I’m charming and good-looking, but I didn’t bring this on myself. Well, maybe I did a little … just by being myself, my adorable self. I’m like a big plush brown teddy bear of pure European extraction. When you’re a white man, everyone thinks they can abuse you. When you’re good-looking, people think you’ve lived a charmed life. Well, I haven’t. My life has been very very difficult. It’s been a … crazy life. I’ve had to be particularly sane in order to deal with all the random, bouncing variables — and those variables came back to bite me in the ass time and time again. If I was a girl, my life would be set. I’d be a gorgeous, brilliant chick, and I’d have everything handed to me. Manipulations would be that much easier. Relationships would be that much smoother and simpler. Instead, I have to manufacture my own happiness in a dark world. This pro blog is one way for me to release my tensions. It’s a stabilizing force on a crazy life, believe it or not. Right now, I’m in a holding pattern with my life, waiting to see what’s going to happen. We’ll see.

Every day, I wait for life to improve. Every day, I am disappointed. Today I slept in until 11 o’clock in the morning and on other days I get up at 9:30 and am still too tired to act. My life is mostly empty. I freely admit that.

I feel as if I’m trapped. And in a literal sense, like Echo, I am. I’m up against forces that are so gargantuan and hideous that it makes one want to rare back and puke it all up in a gesture of purging. You could argue that I got myself into this mess, but that’s not entirely true. And you could equally say that I haven’t done what it takes to get the fuck out of the situation-mess, and that’s maybe true. I assumed that if I stuck with it things would get better, but they haven’t, they’ve only gotten worse.

I think the problem started when I was living in Hamilton, Ont. I was leading a solitary life, with few girls and zero friends, and I met this one girl. She was an opportunity cost in action, if you can savvy that. Look up your economics. As an opportunity cost, she forced me to sacrifice certain things in order to grab for a holy ring, a ladder UP. I did pretty well for a while, but then I slumped. This was entirely her fault. If she had been halfway competent, I never would have got in this mess. And now look at me: stuck and hopeless and just about ready to run.

5 thoughts on “Crazy for life

    1. Yeah, this and “Killer” are the two great Seal songs. I believe Adamski was the DJ who spun the tracks and made the production. I’ve been busy today. I put up my photo and you can see what I look like by clicking on CRADLE in the main screen. I also went to Wolf Street and got my name highlighted for clicking on and submitted a financial post about Steve Jobs. I also went through alot of my graphics from my old imgur account and updated them for the new world of Catxman’s Cradle. All in all, a productive day. What did you do today, John?

      1. me? well, it’s only mid-morning here: went for a walk around the ‘hood [ staying clear of gyms till things settle], sorted out a few things with my Telco — which will appear in a post I’m putting up — a bit of shopping and that’s about it 🙂

        1. I’m experiencing problems with my WordPress account across the board. Nice to gain the insight into your life, though. I hope you’re having a better day than I am.

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