Thursday, June 8, 2017

How my brain works (or doesn't)


When I was young my mother went crazy and became the wonderfully charming schizophrenic she now is. No doubt that her involvement in Scientology helped to get her there. Then, my fortune wonderfully improved, and by a brilliant stroke of luck I was adopted by my uncle—also a fucking Scientologist. My uncle, in his infinite and profound wisdom, thought he would be doing me a favor by forcing me to join Scientology as a condition of living in his house. Being a teenager at the time, and disliking further homelessness, I temporarily complied.

Then I ran away and joined the Air Force.

And that is how I learned to understand the viewpoints of others: as a condition of survival.

When agreeing with crazy people is the only way for a child to avoid starvation and death the child learns empathy, and learns it well. And thus, I have an "immersive" capacity for empathy. I can feel your pain, understand your viewpoint, put myself in your shoes, so well that I lose my own perspective. It's quite the gift, it is. Or a curse.

Or perhaps it is just some form of Stockholm syndrome.

So what I am about to say might sound pretentious, but it is absolutely true: I am the most open-minded person I have ever known. There is literally no one on this Earth that understands me better than I understand them. I have a shocking ability to understand the viewpoints of others that verges on merging with their personality. Thankfully, as time has passed I have grown in my ability to both not give a fuck at all what anyone thinks, and separate my own viewpoint from others, and also recover my own viewpoint after temporarily immersing myself in another's. My curse is to be hyper-empathetic. Like the character Will Graham in the Hannibal TV series, I have spent way too much of my life around deranged people, and also like the character, I became a police officer.

Will Graham is a detective that stalks Hannibal and eventually catches him. He gets framed in the process and partially disemboweled by Lecter. But he's a good guy and a really good cop. His only problem is his excessive empathy.

So this is how my brain works: I pretty much accept the fact that everyone I know is pathologically narrow-minded (from my perspective of course). So rather than try to convince them of anything I dig around in their viewpoint, take their own premises as a starting point, and then assemble an argument out of their own premises. Whenever I argue against you I am using YOUR premises against you. You already agree with them so it is inevitable that you will agree with me. Why bother talking you out of something you have never been talked into in the first place? You can't unlearn an implicit belief. You never really understood it to begin with. So I will just use that to construct my argument.

As for my own viewpoint...

My viewpoint is that I want to be left alone by your insufferable viewpoint.

Nobody actually knows what they believe, and yet they are always absolutely convinced of their rightness. When I come to a conclusion: when—it is only though a vast process of elimination. I consider what everyone thinks on the issue. I find out what all their arguments have in common: what are the presuppositions common to every viewpoint? Then I work with that. Basically, I am always using other peoples' viewpoints to construct some synthesis, some meta-viewpoint, that I can use to convince them of something. This make me damn good a persuading people because I understand their ideas better than them. But what about my viewpoint?

Well honestly, I don't really have one.

Deep down inside I gave up on all that crap years ago. Certainty is an illusion. For example: the hbd crowd believes that genetics determines human behavior, right? Epigenetic changes show that starvation causes hereditary effects for three generations. Some people look at blacks and see inferiority. But one could make the argument that any genetic differences between races are the outcomes of epigenetics. In other words: oppression writes itself into your DNA. This would mean that some races are indeed prone to crime, lack of impulse control, violence, stupidity, etc. But it would also mean that those differences were caused by historical acts of oppression. In other words, it is possible to trace a line of causality from DNA to human behavior. But it is also possible to reverse this line of causality and trace past behavior to present DNA. And I have absolutely no fucking clue which line of reasoning to believe, and I don't care.

And I will never care. There is a blissful joy in doubt. Certainty requires getting off your ass. I don't really want to know anything. My true viewpoint—deep down inside, is all Id and no superego. It's really a series of grunts, like this;
"suck my dick!"
"I'm in charge!"
"shut up!"
"bend over and take it!"
"more money!"
"hot white women!"
"weed!"
"I baked some brownies!"
This is all my brain is really thinking behind vastly complex arguments. This is all the shit I really care about. 50% of my arguments are really just "shut the fuck up!" in disguise.

In the end I am probably the most narrow-minded person ever: nothing gets in. I'm way more likely to believe what you say if you are a hot female and say it with your tongue on my cock. Seriously, I can believe just about anything when I am 20 seconds from exploding in your mouth. I mean anything, absolutely anything. I'll tell you the Earth is flat if that is what you want to hear. And in those five minutes when your lips are on my weiner, I'll actually believe it!

I believe in nothing. As I get older I'm really starting not to care, and it is beautiful. The older I get the less certainty I need. Eventually I will just evaporate into nirvana and join that great Buddha in the sky. Free, free, freeeeeeeeee.........


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