All posts by chubbic

About chubbic

I'm an American, an aunt, a godmother, a sister, a daughter, and a Christian. Those are the important things. I'm also a grad student. Also, if you really want to know what I live for and believe, watch the Romanian film 'Bless You Prison' and the German film 'Sophie Scholl: The Final Days', and read the novel 'The Brothers Karamazov'. Both films are on youtube with English subtitles. As for the novel, get the Pevear & Volokhonsky English translation--it is the best and only ten bucks on amazon. “Faith is deliberate confidence in the character of God whose ways you may not understand at the time.” — Oswald Chambers

the hippo god of love

First of all, the hippopotamus is not a cuddly creature. Get the romanticized western notion out of your head. Like many chubby creatures, its actually quite dangerous. A fierce hippopatumus can bite a man in half. And in ancient egypt on their small reed boats, this was totally a thing. If you don’t believe me, here are some bloody hippopotamus pictures to prove my point.

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Not sure if this here is just some kinda ritual, but you see those teeth and the strength of that jaw. It’s no wonder they can bite a man clean in half.

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They sometimes go after lions, even. So you get the idea. If you see this, your best bet is to pray and run like… like….run like a hippo is chasing you.

Hippo Charge

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Obviously this is a modern rendition, but first here is a depiction of Hathor, the ancient egyptian goddess of love.

The Ancient Egyptians have a story about Hathor, the goddess of love. The gods could take many forms. Long ago, she took the form of a hippopotamus. She tore open a man and so tasted his blood. Soon she was maddened by the blood, and could not be satiated. Thousands upon thousands fell, and soon the earth was filled with the blood of mankind. Even the great god Ra could not stop her in the might of her frenzy. Finally the other gods, fearful that she would destroy the entire human race, took great quantities of beer and stained it with red ochre dye. They flooded Egypt with this, and waited. By moonlight, Hathor mistook the red beer for blood and drank it. Finally, she fell into a drunken stupor, and as she lay there in the form of a hippopotamus, the other gods were able to transform her back, into her beautiful female form. And so the danger passed.

It isn’t a stupid story at all. In the Greco-Roman myths after all, the goddess of love Aphrodite-Venus might be married to the crippled blacksmith, but her main, long-time lover is Ares-Mars, the god of war.

Love is a beautiful thing, these myth-makers seem to be telling us, but beware! The goddess of love can be a consuming and rapacious goddess! There is a darker side to fertility, desire, romantic love — and the cost of such joys is high!

Look, this is all wrong. It is an, ancient, ancient lie — that the gods of love are cruel. That you must suffer, that you must offer your heartsblood and your first-born on its fires. That you must tear your heart in half, and endure great shame and great torments.

Some things do not change. People still believe it nowadays. And in recent years devotees have been paying high costs: all those undergrad hookups and later messy sexual semi-relationships initiated, because “you have to kiss alot of frogs to find your prince.” Firstborns lost, physical pain and humiliation endured, excruciating heartsicknesses, broken bond after broken bond after broken bond, all these sacrifices made for the ravenning goddess of love—all for hopes of that final happy romance that will make all these libations of your heartsblood worth it in the end.

No. Don’t. Don’t. The god of love is a gentle and steadfast god. He does not require your firstborn, he does not require your flesh or your hearts blood.  He ordains all things in their times: and if he has destined you for sexual love, he will bring the right one in his time. Let it be. You do not need to submit yourself to torments. He requires no libations of you and no bleeding sacrifices. You have suffered too much. Let him stand beside you, and be still. Listen to his voice, for he is gentle and steadfast, and his yoke is easy and his burden is light.

dreaming and thinking

Jet lag is weird. I feel like i’m mostly in a dreamlike state, and my dreams are so emotional right now.

I’m in East Asia right now. I left the united states of america on July 5th. The last time I was out of the country was when I was 7 years old in Europe. So it’s been 22 years.

Honestly, I was afraid to leave the States. I was even more afraid to come here. East Asia is my heritage, and I grew up hearing about it in my grandparents’ and mother’s childhoods as a place of war and danger.

Of course, the world they knew was 70 years ago. I know it is all modernized and peaceful now, with Apple stores and Samsung. But my deepest feelings aren’t rational, as your probably figured out already.

It was a long journey with many planes. In one of the layovers, I landed in my mother’s homeland. I almost cried, even if all of the land I could see through the glass airport terminal was tarmac. There was one hill, with trees on it, that i could see through the smog. I stared at it for a long time. Then i got too tired to be patriotic and curled up on a bench.

I didn’t dream for 51 hours because i was stressing and then shuffling between flights and airports and had to guard my bags, so I had a bunch of 45 minute catnaps and half-asleep states where i still could hear the intercom, etc.

By the end I was slightly hallucinating. I didn’t see anything, but I kept turning to speak to people who weren’t there. It was like I would sense people in my peripheral vision, but when I turned to speak to them, they were not there.

I was thinking–in that time, if I add up all the short catnaps, I still got like 7 hours of sleep or so. But it didn’t keep me from hallucinating. The people i kept sensing who were not there were the people I love most.

But dreams, in a way, are hallucinations. Dreams for me have always about what I (deep inside) fear most and love most. Usually much more often of what I fear than what I love. But when I do not dream, I hallucinate. So here is a thought–why do we have to hallucinate in our sleep in order to stay sane?

I know that evolutionary biologists have all their theories, but I think I can spot cheerful-theorizing-with-nothing-but-a-guess when i see it, even if it is dressed up in quasi-scientific language.

I noticed when I am going through a ‘dry’ (mildly depressed?) period of my life, all my dreams are trivial fears (not primal ones), usually involving failure at the workplace, misplaced phones and keys, elusive toilets, and social awkwardness. then during the day, I feel so empty and dry most of the time. I hate those phases of my existence, when I feel like an empty milk jug and the heavens a void. On the upside, those phases can be distracted with pleasure and hobbies and studying. They fill it up tidily, though over time the real important things deep down start tangling into a knot underneath. And this knot was tangling inside me, the past 1~2 years, and at some point it began to affect me–it was as if I saw everything through a grey angry smog that kept getting thicker around my sight.

By contrast, when my dreams are primal and emotional, I feel my inner being healing. That is what is happening now. It is as if my dreams need to be ‘deep hallucinations’ in order to restore my inner being. The deepest, irrational part of me. And oddly enough, what seems to have triggered this ‘deep dreaming’ that started this week again was–of all things–watching two intense movies—Logan and Hacksaw Ridge. 

They appear to have triggered my brain back into ‘deep dreaming’ which makes me wake up feeling like an emotional wreck, but at the same time, I feel a healing inside my irrational/deeper/inner/primal being. I feel like something that had been a tangled knot inside me for the past 1~2 years is finally starting to be untangled, to be sorted deep inside.

This ‘sorting’ I feel inside me, as if the shelves are being put in order and swept, as if my irrational being is finding meaning in the mayhem of my heart, is still an ‘in-process’ feeling. But something is happening—I feel it.

So, I’m feeling very emotional. it is as if all the colors are saturated–sorrow and beauty are intensified. Or not that they are intensified–but that I can feel them again as they really are, and not through a grey angry smog.

On that note, this makes me feel like choking up a bit: the well-wishes that some of these posters have for each-other’s well being as they struggle with their personalities. https://www.truity.com/conversation/topic-specific-emotional-complexity-issues So the internet can be full of love too.

Our world is like that. The bad does not cancel out the good, both just exist side by side, in this tangled, tangled world.

Huh, no wonder we need to hallucinate every night to sort it all out.

so many feels

I finally watched ‘Logan’ yesterday. I’m still recovering. Somehow, the marvel writers of this film tapped into my subconscious, found all my deepest fears and longings and loves, and then cranked it up to 11.

This movie taps into everything, and I mean everything, that means something important to me. There is so much grief in this film, grief and beauty (because the more precious a thing is, the more sorrow accompanies it), and it leaves you in that vulnerable fragile mess where your heart is so full and feels like its going to break at the same time, like when you hold a fragile skinny newborn for the first time, and realize you’d trade all your blood for this kid’s dear, dear little life.

this movie touches on everything wrong with modern science, everything wrong with government, and everything wrong with America, and everything good with America, that is, everything we’ve lost and loved and lost. this film is basically America for me. Oh God.

gah. sob sob.

PS. It’s a well-rounded movie, and it is funny too. The scene where Laura starts yelling & lecturing at him in rapid Spanish is my absolute favorite scene.

 

The long shadow of marxism

Marxism is still very much with us, in a new form. This is it:

1. Progress comes through indignant  rage

2. Love = hate. If you hate the rich, you must love the poor. If you mock and hate “white males”, it shows you must love black females. If you hate “the racists”, you get automatic  karma for loving minorities. If you hate “the haters”, Oh, the purity of your charitable generous soul!!!!

Redemption, salvation, is only through one thing: rage and contempt and hatred.

I saw a cap with the logo “progress army”. I knew it was leftist before I even looked it up. Only they embrace violence as the key to everything else. For other religions, violent conflict is a means to an end, a tool to be used. Only in the religion of secular leftism is the violent struggle itself the end and the means and the salvation.  It is no coincidence that their symbols are so frequently a clenched fist ready to strike.

I might be a benighted anti-progressive religious ideologue, but believe it or not, the core of my shabby faded faith is actually love for my God. (Not even hatred for the devil.) Please listen to us for one moment, before you call is haters again:  We patriots, Christians, “clingers”, and hicks — what drives us is love for our own — our own forefathers, our own history, our own God, our own Bibles, our own towns, our own fields and our own trucks — not hatred of “the other”.

Leftism, on the other hand, is rooted in hatred. Hatred of the class enemy, the corporate enemy, the traditionalist enemy, the conservative enemy, the evil other, the “haters”. The very ideology of leftism is based out of a “holy” hatred. They do not define themselves by what they love, but by what they hate

So there is only one religion whose very center is pure hate. And unfortunately it’s the one that claims to fight “hate”, which it has conveniently defined as everything that dissents from itself.

Seeing, they do not see. Hearing, they do not hear. Otherwise, they might see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and turn — and I would heal them.

 

 

 

 

 

On ‘eliminating stigma’ and Social Justice Warriors

I’m in the motherland of SJW’s (Social Justice Warriors), in other words, an American Jesuit Institution. The tractable 18-year-olds are full of righteous indignation and idealistic self-importance of the messianic variety. (And of course, inevitably, the few contrarian ones now mutter about Ayn Rand and Breitbart).

Seriously though, the SJW-ness is thick enough in the air here I could probably bottle it up and sell it as a new breakfast spread for your toast.

I ran across this thought in an old Jesuits book of rambling essays:

We also hope its new-found “compassion” is not so self-righteous that it excludes the poor and weak from their own moral dignity on the grounds of some neo-Rousseauist theory about sinful structures or social sin, which insists on locating evil outside of most human hearts. We are very near to reducing most people to “objects” of “concern” — or to put it differently, we are very near to handing over the essential decisions about moral worth… [James V. Schall Idylls and Rambles, p. 205]

I think he is saying, that the more you champion “the oppressed” and insist they are not responsible for their actions, the more you objectify them into ‘things’. Sometimes, holding someone accountable for their actions is the first step in respecting them as a human being.

Dogs with rabies get my pity and a swift euthanization. If we treat people like “the poor things can’t help it”, then the logic follows there as well.

Let us not treat sinning humans as faultless critters. That is dehumanizing.

Bullies and Liars

It makes my heart sick. Bullies and Liars and people who make up history that isn’t true. Damn it, I wish all those Marxist sympathizers in the West (whose own self-conceited arrogance have made them the enablers of so much wrong) could have traded places (and would trade places) with all those who have suffered and still suffer under those godless regimes that promise paradise and eat your firstborn.

Instead, their suffering is forgotten, as the enablers turn deaf ears to them, and are too busy anyway giving their fellow enablers prizes for ‘open-mindedness’ and ‘courage’ from the comfort of their free world homes. And they continue to enable bullies and liars the world over.

But the dead will rise up one day, millions upon millions, and ask for their blood to be avenged. And it will.

I will also be dead

When I was 18 I thought “we” (my generation) could solve the majority of the world’s problems. I was the traditionalist Christian variety, which meant I didn’t completely write off the past, but I thought “we” could remodel what was wrong with the last few generations/centuries, pull out the ‘extract’ and start fresh. Previous Christians had gotten us into this mess because of hypocrisy, lackluster devotion to the cause, and either (1) harshness and knee-jerk reactionism or (2) ineffectual saccharine niceness that wimped out. They’d either overplayed their hand or rolled over like a scared puppy. We were going to fix all of this. We were going to end sex trafficking, prostitution, jilted heartbreak, abortion, father’s abandoning their children, third-world hunger, and tyrannical dictatorships around the world. We’d end infidelity, sexual violence, and brutality, and fill the world with democracies honoring human rights and patched-up happy families eating dinner together. We could fix it all. Sitting on the folding chairs in the church basement, I respectfully listened to the grownups while re-imagining how we’d “fine tune” their message and excise the offputting bits, as well as avoid the character mistakes they’d clearly made. We’d back them up while helping them out and improving on their struggle — our generation would be like the Riders of Rohan, who show up at Helm’s Deep when the sun rises.

I was so arrogant and stupid then.

I’ll be 30 in less than a year. I’m so damn tired of trying. What I thought were paper dragons are really live 3-dimensional dragons, solid things, with moss growing on them that is itself thousands of years old. Prostitution, slavery, rape, misogyny, paternal abandonment, bullies running governments, injust mass executions, pathological lying, the abuse of the defenseless …all those things will be around long after I am gone. We can make a little change here or there, but these dragons have bested our ancestors and they’ll best us. And our ancestors– probably tried just as hard as us. They were once that sanguine schemer sitting on the Grecian or Roman or Medieval equivalent of a folding chair, politely listening to their elders talk in the agora/colonnade/basement, planning to improve and win the struggle and save the world.

We are not the first and we are not the last. The dead are filled with do-gooders who tried.

And I’ll be dead one day. Maybe in three decades, maybe in five. But it is coming, and just like that, I’ll have joined the ranks of the dead, while the young smile quietly on the basement folding chairs, planning to fix it all.

I was staring at a large tree today, as its branches waved in the wind. It’s trunk was old, it’s roots curving around bits of stone/concrete covered in moss. The wind kept blowing the branches. They thrashed about, making the same sound as the sea.

 

Understanding the World I am in Now

I tend to get on my high horse alot.

Whether or not Trump is impeached, his presidency has illuminated a large swath of society that feels very put upon. I’m talking about working males, ages 18-45. They tend to be wage-earners (blue collar) or nerds and unemployed.

They feel that “feminists” are out to get them, and if chat forum comment threads are any indication, they hate preachy social conservatives girls like me just as much as the feminist crowd. In fact 1st/2nd wave feminists have quite a lot in common with traditional Christian mores (don’t sexualize the women! Public sexualization is degrading! not calling the morning after is evil! etc etc).

If you want to see them all pissed off read the comments to this video. Here is the perfect amalgamation of 2nd Wave Feminism + Social Conservative Mores that infuriate them all: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZR9FHKKbMZo

It’s as clunky as it is old-fashioned. She’s a 2nd wave, and yes, she’ll be roasted by current 3rd wave feminists and insulted men alike.

While I wince at her blunt word choice…I confess she does speak out much of my own gut inclinations on many things. And I’m embarrassed to admit it, but it is true.

Now…. look at this odd opensource scifi film short: http://nofilmschool.com/2012/09/tears-of-steel-completely-open-source-film

It’s a very weird film. I also gather it is supposed to be funny, and is funny for many viewers.

“I was a dick, but that doesn’t mean you should destroy the world.”

And look at its youtube comment:

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I assume that is a male youtube poster. I am also assuming that most of those 33 likes are other males.

I think…this seems like a sublimated commentary on modern feminism from a male perspective. The empowered (robotic) woman is angry and revengeful. She’ll take down the old order even if it means leaving rubble behind. You could say the same thing about any revolutionary movement.

And it has been a revolution. However you feel about it, everyone agrees that the dynamic between the genders circa 1950 in the West is not even close to it in 2017.

I’m trying to get off my soapbox and see it from other perspectives. I know my attitude (hybrid 2nd wave feminist + social conservative Christian) is long passe and offensive to all.

Things that send me into a rage do not send other people into a rage. And other things do. I know everyone has been hurt, and maybe I should listen more when men say they are hurt. You always need a very good reason to blow off another’s pain.

 

Naked Blunt Truth Post #1: Changing my ways

I noticed something that irked me about Augustine of Hippo:

He’ll sometimes give random reasons for why something is bad–instead of the reason (I suspect) he actually thinks it is bad. You know, you give reasons that you think will convince your audience to side with you, instead of nakedly revealing the reason you really think it.

Sometimes I get frustrated. He’s uncloaking his epic vision of a Christian Neo-Platonic Universe in all its shining glory, and then he has to pause to pander to Late Antique Roman Sensibilities to explain why it’s a great idea. The worst is the mockery of one’s opponents. I don’t think he was a vicious man. But you do what works.

He was, I remind myself, a lawyer.

For example– “The hookup culture and strip-tease clubs are not intellectual! The value women’s sexual aspects and not her chemistry-acing, ninja-fighting, and chess-playing aspects!! Perpetuates stereotypical attitudes! Is inherently anti-feminist!”

I think I’ve said all those things. But I’ll be honest with you now. The real reason I hate the hookup culture is that it trivializes sex. And by trivializing it, it makes me want to jump off a bridge.

That is the honest-to-God truth.

I cannot see how sex without loyalty is not trivial. Without loyalty, sex means less than the ritualized smile of the bagger at the check-out grocery counter.

And when sex is trivialized, in Chubbic’s mental universe,  all sex’s accouterments and products become trivialized: babies and romantic promises and and human bodies and human passions and humans themselves. When sex is trivialized, it makes me doubt the importance (or permanence) of the human soul itself. When sex is trivialized, I feel like the materialists are right–we are just smart monkeys pretending that ‘love’ exists while we trick and rape each other to the genocidal progressive march of evolution, as it blots out one species for another, that will probably culminate with some super-genius talking octopii in a million years….. before our whole universe dies when everything cools off and the last star dies, leaving a gaseous cold empty universe devoid of life, like the remains of last New Year’s Eve’s ashes in the fireplace that everyone forgot to clean up.

And yes, that makes me want to jump off a bridge.

So, you wonder, why should I pick on everyone else about it?

Because, I’m guessing that some of the people jumping off bridges are doing it for the reasons that make me feel that way. And I don’t want them (or myself) to go through that.

OK? So yes, I sound like an idiot. But I’m turning 30 next year, and I figured the time for eloquence is over. I’m not a lawyer. I don’t want to be an academic. I just want to be a human. So I’m just going to tell you what I really think — and why.