To love or not to love.

Being objective or productive in terms of objectivity have never been my strong suits. I have seen and experienced things that have lead me to believe had I been objective, in the sense of Fromm that the situation would have been far worse. Objectivity much like respect is something I give right away, but people can lose quicker then I can manage to notice. Respect to me is a sign of objectivity, only those whose words, lessons and advice Im willing to listen not just hear will get any inclining of my respect let alone my objectivity. By this I don’t mean that we must agree or get along, but we must be civil and able to discuss any issue or problem in terms of authentic want to understand, not just listening with deaf ears.

           

To talk about a specific example in which I and essentially a stranger had a moment where I had to use objectivity at its fullest, I can clearly remember an instance with my professor. I had gone into his office to discuss a paper I had written, the paper was on graffiti and how it can be used as an escape for urban youth to not fall into the circles of bad habits so many do. Now I personally was raving about my paper until I received my grade of a D. Instead of complaining I went onto his office and decided to speak as two grown adults about what he felt I had done wrong. I was younger at the time and honestly I wanted to bitch and moan about my paper but I mustered up a bit of maturity and did what I thought was the best course of action. As we sat and spoke it was clear he disagreed with my thesis and more importantly my overall approach to the topic. I received the impression that he did not believe that an illegal activity could be used to curb other illegal activities. We argued, we brought up points, but during the course of our conversation something happened, I stopped trying to be this person and became that person. I went from being an angry kid to being an intellectual equal to my professor, for the time being at least. As I noticed how I spoke, how I sat even the points I brought up my professor also started to speak to me as an equal, no longer teacher student, but instead friend to friend (using friend loosely here).  This process of being objective to the criticism I was receiving opened me up to being productive at the same time. Had I just took my grade I would not have grown as a writer, thinker and person, being productive within the realm of criticism gave way to being objective of not others only but of myself. Again not something that came natural to me at the time. By having the professor listen to my point and being to hear what I was trying to explain, my respect for him grew, no longer was he the guy who was a difficult grader, but he became someone I respected for allowing himself to learn while trying to teach.

           

This experience has stayed with me to this day. Even in our class there are moments when I am involved in the conversation at hand and I do not agree with anything being said. Yet now I listen and try to understand the logic not just the words as where before I would have been closed-minded. By listening with an open mind I can become objective about what others are saying. In other words I actually care to listen and understand instead of saying no and going about my business.

            When it comes to those I care about, my family, friends and (one day) wife I try to use my objectivity as an extension of my respect for others. If I can’t listen, care and do my best to actually enhance our lives by me being there how can I truly feel that I love, admire or care for them. I see it as a simple process; to love another is to fully want to understand, to listen, to debate, to cherish the moments you spend together and most importantly to respect them as much as you do yourself.

           

Love is respect, to want to understand the opposite view though it goes against all of your beliefs and may even question what you have come to know. Love is the respect you feel for another as though it were you talking to yourself. As I’ve said before I love me some me.

Pursuit of Happiness

As Ive come to believe music is something that speaks to the very inner deepest part of the soul. Not just melody by instruments, but it can be as simple as the words of prayer touching you, the words of intelligence harmonized by your ears to mean something to the listener. In my personal life music has served as an extension of my daily life. I have used the music not to escape and forget my problems or happiness, but rather to make me happier, sadder, angrier, more in love or just plainly exist more and more.  From the good times to those with tears rolling down my face music has been the rhythm my heartbeats at during those moments. Growing up I use to write a lot, perform and make my own lyrical endeavors, so music to me is a special thing. The song presented here is by Kid Cudi, Ratatat and MGMT, its called pursuit of happiness, the lyrics seem to be the short edited version of what Ive lived this far. “If I fall, if I die, know I lived it to the fullest, if I fall, if I die, know I lived and missed some bullets”, this line is just one of many that I feel describe my life. Ive tried to live my way, doing maybe t=not the best of things but definitely those that at the time were making me happy. I by no means say I wouldn’t change some of my actions, hell by the same token Im not saying I would, but I am saying that I did it. The lyrics Kid Cudi spits out not only relate to me on that musically “other level” but some of the mistakes he raps out have actually word for word happen in my life, so when he speaks about what do others know about dreaming I feel what he’s describes that its no point in laying in the bed filled with sorrows and not caring about tomorrow.  The previous statement is something that I can honestly say took a long time for me to realize, its hard not to let life keep you down, but at one point in order to realize ones true potential, I feel we need to roll with the punches, and yes punch back and if we must go down go down like a champ  (Apollo Creed style). What I figured out is that no matter how messed up things can get, you have to stay happy, if you don’t, nothing you do, finish or unfinished, gold or platinum will make you happy. No people do the opposite, when I was younger I used to get nothing but “what are you doing?, why aren’t you doing this?” and basically people thinking I was suppose to be doing more. Now I do what makes me "me", “no one can do Raf like Raf”, I do what makes me happy, what makes me feel accomplished, making more and more mistakes yes, but also shining more then I did before, shinning more today then I did yesterday and more tomorrow then right now. As Kid Cudi says “ Not everything that shine aint always gonna be gold, ill be fine once I get it”. Not everything to this point or for future reference will be gold but it keeps me striving for more, hungry to make it, a big thing is I cant, and will not let complicity control me. Knowing there are false truths or false anything out there in my life makes me fight and work that much harder to find the actual “shinny” things. Im finally on my own pursuit of happiness.

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history is not now

The song “why hip-hop sucked in 96” was in terms of beat insane. The melody played to me and made me think of those songs that inspire me to take up arms, a pen or marker and even made me want to write. The piano sounds gave it an ominous melody that to my ears played well with the rest of the beats, specially the deep drum bass sounds. Though the middle was a bit out of touch with the vibe of the rest it did play well and within the 40 seconds or so. As the song finishes on a different vibe then the beginning the spoken word element about money was a great addition. This is one song where I can understand the message and agree with what DJ Shadow may be trying to say via beats.

            

       Yet given all this my final opinion stays, while I will give to the fact that the album made history and many people at the time slept on its accomplishment, to me right now as I progress I need and want more from it. If DJ Shadow came out with an updated version using the last few years as inspiration I could see another piece of history being made. Though like my feelings torn down fourteen years later by someone else’s blog.

Bill Murray meets PLato

Same thing day in and day out, trying to figure out if it’s true, if it’s a dream and if not why are you stuck in this repetition. Phil, while more of an ass then I hope I am, still shares the same feeling about doing something that doesn’t make you happy as I do. While for the movie the concept was one day, I speak more about a life time, and to bring it into full circle with Plato our lifetimes split in two; Our reality and our perceived reality, in other words what we see and the availability of the MORE, the truth of not just the world but ourselves. For some the world we are stuck in is school, for others their neighborhood surroundings and for others still it can be the pitch black of their set ways. Whatever the day, week, moment, lifetime is that we keep repeating it takes a spark in order for us to escape that and actually see reality for what it is. The more we tell ourselves this is a horrible circumstance the more the situation beats your soul. The same can be said if we see the mundane and everyday as a reason to exploit the situation. Its hard to imagine how one could exploit something he or she finds terrible, but examples of people taking advantage at work, the kindness of others and even classmates is not hard to think up in our own lives or stories we have heard. Plato would say we all live in this fake reality, this cave shrouded in false truths, and as I am reading it and putting Platos words in the context of Bill Murray’s movie, our egos, our perceptions and overall our outlooks when not consistent with the true self, the true reality and the outside world will afford for us to do no more then relive the same days and make it much more difficult to see tomorrow

The 50 cent story

  In reading Plato’s Cave and trying to write this blog I have searched my mind in order to figure out some time in my life that the allegory has happened. In all honesty I cannot say that I have ever truly reached some enlightened truth, not one that has made sense at this point in my life. The closest I can think of is my decision to continue my education along with my future career. Even now as I put these words on paper I cannot say that I am completely out the cave, but I do see some light that is greater then five years ago, but still not enough to let my mind wonder about the things around me.

  I grew up in San Francisco in an area called Hunter’s Point, not the best of places I will admit. On the other hand nor was I the best of residents, not innately bad, but not a shinning example of intelligence. I had an array of bad influences around me and given that I still took a different path, I became what most of you would see as a “tagger”, yet to me I was an artist (though I still believe that). Against the words of wisdom from teachers, words of advice from family and even the determination for police enforcement to stop me I continued to practice my form. Long story short, the police was my nemesis and I considered them “stupid” in my eyes. They would rather chase me around the Marina, a prominent SF neighborhood, then to show up when we called about a man who was dying on my stairs (he had been badly stabbed). As I grew up and got older (notice growing up does not necessarily come with age) more of the same was around, but I no longer focused on only the police as enemies by themselves, but also school. I knew both were necessities in society, but it did not stop me from seeing them as a burden. I spent most of my time in school doodling on notebooks, desks, and some girl’s arm but instead of taking my education serious I just waited for practice to be over so I could do “me”. Teachers would scold me and my parents would let my excuses (at the time true reasons) fall on deaf ears; the world was against me. There are only so many times I wanted to hear or could hear “you have so much potential, use it for something worth wild”. Their shadows were always looming over me; from the brick building of my school, to the shadow of my mothers tears, even my own shadow covering me away from the lights of the red and blue. How wrong I was, how utterly simple and thus blinded I was, is in all honesty surprising to me even now. After doing this till my early twenties and consequentially never moving ahead in anything I wanted to achieve I broke the chains that I put on myself. That in itself was a struggle because I never wanted to admit I was my own cave, my own chains and still the prisoner, how could I believe that? Why would I want to do that myself? I decided to get my act together and take my education more serious and put down my markers, paints, ECT in exchange for a book and a pen. At this point it was not an easy climb out my cave. At first I was completely blind, no direction, and no idea of what I wanted to do. I had spent from 18-21 in college, but really had done nothing of significance. As I looked for guidance within some sort of soul searching I ended up where I am now, close to graduating from college (the first in my family ever) and taking the steps towards my eventual goal of becoming a police officer working within the system.

  This might not be the same as Plato’s intent with the cave, but I also believe that once out the cave, even in this simple instance I would be done, be bored. Part of the strive to better myself, to keep seeing light is because I like the chase. I enjoy smashing into the wall at times and still have the ability to climb up, even as I leave a trail of blood against the cave floor. If the opening is so close and achievable then what’s next? As I said before I have seen true truths and false truths, and as much as I search for the truth in all, the point is in searching. When I find truth or knowledge I will be able to say it three times and know its absolute and just be able to sit back and reflect, no longer with an ability to search. So as of now I can see the outside, I can see what the light hides, but still need the walls of the cave to guide me.

True to me today.

Life has shown me true truths and false truths.


   Truths have opened flood gates of information in my experience, some of which I truly have valued and grown from. While others have hindered that same process of growth. Yet as I sit here and write this I can’t help but think of one truth that started as a lie, as an inconsistency that I held to be true and right. As Walt Whitman states, “Whatever satisfies the soul is truth”, I agree with this up to the point when the soul questions its own satisfaction. Yet what happens when the truth that rocked us to sleep no longer fulfills that need to be comforted and in turn is now part of the reason we toss and turn at night. For me that same questioning described above occurred during a point when I questioned my morality compared to my learned ethics.
  

   I was about twelve years old, grew up catholic, did my duties as a good ole catholic boy, and believed what I was told about right and wrong, heaven and hell. My ethics, the things I was taught to value and cherish as close as family, started to conflict with what I thought was morally right. Now by no means at this age was I ready to read the Bible, the Torah, The Qur’an, or any holy higher book and understand the true meanings behind the words, but it did seem as though the quote by Lewis Carroll, “What I tell you three times is true” was to be taken as enough proof that my teachings should without a doubt conquer my sense of moral objectivity. And yet I couldn’t buy that, I could not succumb to the idea that one road, one modality of thought was better then another. That one person should be shunned for something they could not control or could no longer hide for fear of discrimination and feelings of self hate. I questioned not my faith, but my education as it related to being what I envisioned as a morally upright citizen. Scriptures that touched on race, sexuality and even slavery were used only when it seemed to enhance what we were expected to learn. It was what we as young men and women were expected to accept without further questioning, and worse yet were cast aside when those same words “corrupted” our young minds. After reading and listening, I much later in life decided on something that satisfied my soul, that satisfied my need for all the parts to fit into each other without too much conflict. While I still haven’t been able to tell myself three times that what I believe now is the absolute truth, I have been able to say it twice.