Music is a Weird Thing

Music is weird because even babies know that it is great. It is in our blood to sing and to dance. Music is used by all people in the world, too. Dinosaurs didn’t have it though, which is sad but makes it more special. What I would like to know is when did the first guy start making rhythm? It had to start with one guy and spread from there, as music methods are cultural. Did Neanderthal and Homo Habilis bang a drum? If a generation of humans went by with absolutely no music and all records and memory of music were lost, how long would it take for someone to figure out again that music exists? These are things I cannot know. I do know however, that primitive human cultures have music that is mainly rhythm; drums and shakers. Then after a while they might develop some sort of wind instrument like a wooden flute. Next in cultural advancement comes along stringed instruments; lute, zither, banjo, piano. As the culture advances from tribal to civilized so does the instrumentation of the people as well as any fine art, and the access to and privilege of using these instruments opens up. Individual humans work the same way. Infants can follow along to music, toddlers can make gross motor movements to bang a drum, and as they develop their ability to play finer and finer instruments comes too. Not too often would an adventurer discover an indigenous tribe with anything stringed. These were European and Asian inventions almost exclusively. Probably Homo Sapien’s tendency for war brought together music. War chants will fire any listener up and give rise to some ancient fighting chemicals that run with fire throughout the body. On the other hand, music might come from times of peace, as soothing music calms the mind and brings focus to the self and community. 

The problem I am seeing is that not enough people are exposed to music; it is not a large part of American culture. Yes, we have frequently changing eras of popular music like dixie, jazz, rock n’ roll, and pop, so in that sense music is still just as much a part of a culture than ever before. While more unique genres thrive, the culture is more of a listening than a producing one. I can’t say if it is worse, but I think that children are not exposed to enough music creation, which goes hand-in-hand with consumer culture. We are spoon fed music, rather than playing it. This seems like a non-problem at first glance, but the problem lies in that the person making music has the influence. They lead our minds in the morning on the way to work, and all day long. When so many people listen to 90% the same music, we all think the culture is what is said in that music. The writers are the ones who drive culture, just like the big media companies decide what content and what news the mass of people listen to. The false belief is that the music producers and the media are a reflection of the culture, but the truth is that the culture reflects their ideas based on what the media exposes them to. Popular music is good undeniably, which of course is fine. It was made to be that way. It is probably a good thing that we all know the same 100 songs word for word, because it brings together the people. So listening to other people’s music is very important, yes. But us Americans do not make a whole lot compared to the amount we listen to, as per usual. It is not hard to make music, folks. You just need to stomp your foot and slap your knee. I find that most people in my life have no clue how to find a beat and keep time, let alone sing a tune. Children need to be indoctrinated at a young age and kept with it. Children are really only exposed to making music in a few cases. Singing at church is one, and the other is from music class at their elementary school for an hour per week.  I will argue that in 3rd grade music is far more important than any academic subject. It is relaxing, it is fine motor building, and it is community strengthening. Music is an outlet for all emotions, which is something kids take a long time to figure out. Keep them pent up all day in a classroom learning math they don’t need, keeping quiet with their hands folded nicely, when even a 6 hour recess would do them far better than any classroom teacher could. One of the only practical skills a little kid can learn that will help them in the long run is to play music. Instead they get graded on how well they play with others and learn how to form a straight line and how to be quiet which they would figure out on their own regardless. It does no good. Music is the key to producing functioning, cooperating citizens in a tightly knit community. Us older degenerates might not be savable, but it is never too late to start pumping out children that can cope with their own feelings in a productive manner.  

Sometimes I Twitch Out

I have no clue if this is normal for everybody or if it is unique to me, but sometimes, maybe up to five times a week, I will completely twitch out for like 3 seconds. It only happens when I am alone, and what happens is I feel some shiver deep down and I have to shake it out of my body like a demon, and then it leaves my body through a loud vocal sound of some sort. Sometimes this feeling happens when I am around others and I can suppress it into just a big shiver. Maybe there is something the matter with me, but maybe not. Whenever I do this and make some random sound, I am grateful nobody was around to see the episode, because it is a normal occurrence for me, but an onlooker might have some questions to which I have no answers. IDK people! contact me if this happens, I think you can comment on these things.

Skipping is Fun as Hell

but if I do it in public people will think I’m a loon.

Seriously, it is the most fun method of locomotion available to humans. Walking is easy but slow, running is fast but hard. Skipping is easy and fast. It really is a no brainer for me to skip all the time, but I don’t want to be that guy that skips. Sometimes I wish I was mentally ill so I would have a reason to do things like that without being questioned. Why can’t we all do exactly what we want all the time if it doesn’t hurt anybody else? In my dreams I skip a lot, but bigger. I reach enormous heights and come down to the ground with great suspension to spring me back up even higher; but I have to walk everywhere in real life. 

I fantasize about this alternate reality in which everybody in the city runs and walking is outlawed in all cities. Picture: You walk out the front door of your building in the morning and are blinded by the sunlight, but a cool rush sweeps across your body as your eyes quickly adjust. It is the gust of people running by on their way to work. You watch the oncoming foot traffic until you see an opening and you merge in, accelerating  0-8 in 2 seconds. Wind blowing by your face, heart pumping fast; you are a wild animal. 

In this nature documentary on Africa I’ve seen a few times, this tribe in the Kalahari are the last people on earth to hunt by chasing their prey on foot. The hunters go out and find a group of kudu (large antelope thing) and single out the one with the biggest horns: he will tire the fastest carrying the most weight. They separate the victim from the group and one hunter begins a chase that lasts eight hours. One man runs down this kudu for Eight Hours until the animal gets so tired that it lies down and admits defeat, and the man is able to walk right to it and spear the beast point-blank. This is such powerful footage that is truly moving, to look into that animal’s eyes when it knows it will die. It fought such a worthy battle but could not win against man’s long distance run and sweat abilities. 

What’s the deal with shoes, while we’re at it? they are pretty pointless it seems, unless its in the city where there are actual substances of concern on the ground. Shoes should not be put on babies or children until it gets cold out. Shoes should be outlawed in the summer, so that the feet can get strong, and we can raise tough children. Winter shoes are obviously excusable and recommended. Why do we think the guys that don’t wear shoes are weird? they are just doing what their feet were made to do. I also don’t understand the discrimination against eating with fingers either; they are basically better sporks. If I am want for an eating utensil, I just use my fingers like a rational person. To heck with civilized, I am a human ape and I am king of the jungle. The few times in my life I have gone barefoot in public I’ve received comments of the ‘you are making the floor gross’ variety. I say to you, ‘what do you care? your feet are protected by shoes!’ Think people. My feet are in far more danger than yours, and I have clearly weighed the risks already, evidenced by the fact that I chose to wear bare feet. To skip in bare feet? perhaps not.

Come to think of it, even the guy that ran down the kudu was wearing shoes.

Potatoes are Seeds

I am waking up to the world. I struggle to know if those around me think about things the way I do. NO not about potatoes being seeds, that was just a lucky curse that happened into my thoughts. What I am talking about is day-to-day reality. If I am a simulation, so be it, but I still will enjoy life while I have it. If this is a freak accident of nature I will still enjoy it. If nothing goes my way I will still enjoy it. If the rapture comes I will not repent, out of stubbornness. If I die tomorrow it will have been a waste, but if I am immortal I think I’ll get bored. If given the opportunity to blow up a far off planet and see it happen, I would. If I could make world peace, I probably wouldn’t because that would be boring and overpopulation would kill my grandkids. If I could fly I wouldn’t because then I would be a bird and not a human. If I could travel through time, I would be a human on Earth in the Milky Way galaxy named Gary who does blogs, who measures said time in planetary spin/revolutions around the sun. If I was an alien, there would be life on other planets. If I was Christopher Columbus, I’d have a holiday in my name. If I was the richest person in the world, I’d be Jeff Bezos. What I see is that I can’t change the world, I can only adapt to it. I cannot control anything except myself and honestly thats a relief. How the heck easy is that? We have almost total voluntary control over ourselves. That is a nice feeling to have. 

A string of thoughts

It is love for one another that makes us lonely.
To remember something forgotten is to never have forgotten at all.
Connected to nature and to the people is what I long to be.
If what I long for is to sit beneath that tree,
then that is where I will be.
If he wants to see it
why can’t he? Why can’t He?

Let me not forget where I am now,
for if I lie here long enough,
I will become a part of it all.
The ants don’t care about me,
they know their business and will find their way.
The inchworm that crawls about my sleeve just seems lost,
for he knows not that I am otherworldly,
and that leaves do not shoot from these twigs I call arms.
Perhaps he is wise to something..
something like if I am here now, and not actively rocking his world, I am just as much a daily nothingness to him as he is to me.
These bugs are depraved, yet I need them.

Beauty is all around me, but if I stop long enough to admire every fallen autumn leaf, I would become no smarter than the leaf itself.

Autumn is here

T’is the season. Its actually been here since early September. It came very abruptly. One day it was summer, the next it was fall. I find it funny that nobody talks about it though. They love to talk about the day-to-day weather, but I never hear one remark about the seasons changing. I think people like to focus on the negative too much, too. The only people that bring up the weather are the ones that complain about the cold or complain about the heat, though there are certainly those that say “what lovely weather we’re having!” I don’t understand the complaint because at least we aren’t on Mars where its awful there. At least we aren’t in Florida where its gators and hurricanes. At least we don’t have wild fires or tornados or tropical storms or earthquakes. It is quite lovely here really. The changing of the seasons makes me appreciate each one for what it is. It forces me to take advantage of the summer before it gets too cold to do the things that can only be done during summertime. Perhaps not everybody thinks in the negative way I think they might, though. I like to appreciate my surrounding environment, for if I cannot appreciate where I am, how can I begin to appreciate anything else in my life. My circumstances put me on my path, just as yours do, and I must work with them as they come. I must adapt myself to the cold or the heat or I will be nowhere. Say I were to stop all advances in the winter.. This would put me behind come spring and I will have lost time off my life ultimately. Why lose time when I can suffer a little bit in the cold and accomplish what it is I want to accomplish. What is it I want to accomplish you ask? nothing in particular, but I want that window to remain open at all times (not literally its too cold out). Seasonal depression is weird too. Stop thinking that everything is going to be great all the time. Lower your standards and maybe you will smile for once. Things are great if you want them to be only. Very Subjective. The snow is cool, sunburns are cool, the mushy brown grass in March is cool, and the dead leaves blowing across the road in October that you think for a second might be a frog or chipmunk are cool. Its all good stuff. Where do the bugs go when it snows anyway? Do they lay eggs underground and die? Do they fly south? Sometimes in the woods when it snows there are these tiny black flies that chill out in the snow. I’d like to know more about those guys.

I had a wild dream sequence last night

Last night before I went to sleep I had to pee but didn’t out of sheer laziness. I like to challenge my body and exercise my soft muscle tissue by holding it in when I can, so that I can perform when the time really comes and I desperately need to go #1  but can’t just yet. Nighttime Gary will do anything to not be bothered, even if it means screwing over morning Gary.

I went to sleep with what was not yet a full bladder, but I definitely know enough about my body that I knew it would be full before morning came. Sure enough, 5am rolls around and I wake up ready to burst as I had predictably ignored and ignored predictably. Though this was expected, I did not expect the crazy dreams that my brain conjured to alert me to the urgency.

As a little kid, if I had a dream in which I was peeing, it meant that I would be waking up in a puddle and it was already too late by the time I realized that I was pee-dreaming. Now in my more controllable state of mind, my brain and body have a better relationship, so I was able to wake myself up during a pee dream on time and as follows was my series of three dreams that alerted me to my waking needs, each more intense than the last.

I was on my way back to school with all of my clothes and things, but just before my dad and I left the driveway, I went inside the house to pee. This dream was the full deal of me doing a regular #1 no different than usual. This was not hint enough for me to wake up.

After the tank was emptied from that dream, I was ready to leave, when the sudden feeling of a full bladder came to me yet again for the next dream. I thought this was weird but just went to work at it anyway. This time I was not going in the toilet, but all over my shoes. I have a shoe rack with six varying pairs of footwear in real life that I was wetting all over in my dream and I could not do anything about it. This was not hint enough to me still.

Third dream was me putting my pants back on after dream two, getting in the car, and driving off to school. On the way there, my dad took a strange turn which led us through the snowy woods with a frozen lake approaching in the distance. Panic started to set in, and of course as dreams go he would not respond to me, becoming eerily robotic and silent. Sure enough, he drives out onto the ice, which is thin, but does not immediately break through. About half way out into the lake, the ice stops but he keeps driving. “Its okay” he whispered. I was calm while we nose dived in slow motion into the ice water. I opened the passenger side door as quickly as possible. I worried momentarily about my belongings in the back seat soon to be destroyed, and I worried about why my dad went whack so unexpectedly, but my main focus quickly shifted to my father who was not moving from the seat despite his impending cold doom. I was now in the freezing water, and the car was halfway sunk, but he, though alive and well, was still not moving. Only then did I become so scared that I woke up and admitted defeat to my own bladder.

Hello

this is a very new thing I am going to try. I assume not many people will land here, which is ideal really. If you got here it means that you know me, so hello and thanks for being here!

I think this website will be a good way to get off of social media, whose grasp on me has become increasingly harder to escape.  This shall serve as a platform for me to update future gary on present and past gary, so that if I or my descendants want to know how I was before I went insane, they can find me.

I like the idea of being able to post pictures and words of anything I want without conforming to any aesthetic, norms, or expectations because probably only maybe 10 people will ever visit here.

NOT A DIARY ITS A JOURNAL