__________________________________________________ / / / The Eternity Articles / / / / Act I, Scene vi -- August 1995 / /_________________________________________________/ \ \ \ Who am I?: Sanjay Singh \ \ eternity@cyberspace.org \ \_________________________________________________\ "It's a constant fight You're pushing the needle to the red Who know's who's right No substitute, you're born, you're dead Created out of fantasy Our destination calls..." [Yes] This issue is not something I was actually looking forward to doing. In the first issue I picked a fairly emotional topic, something that was fairly meaningful to me, and I worked with it and got the issue out and it started off this entire saga. The problem was that I wasn't really looking forward to confronting my emotions again, anytime soon. Some shadows belong in the corners, and some skeletons belong in the closet, and I just wanted to keep them there. But sometimes, you have to stand up and punch your way out of the darkness. I'm going to try to do it again in this issue. Lucidity is not something that I will promise for this issue, but that just goes with getting under my skin. I have to keep on reminding myself of what I'm doing this for. Yes, I'm doing it for you, but I'm also doing this for me, this is my release, it's either vent or explode. For my own clarity, I've decided to split up the emotion content of this issue between the issue that you're reading right now, and the one you should be getting next month. The July/August border has always been a rough time of year for me, or at least for the last five years. It's been rough, and nowhere near to merciful in dredging up painful memories. That's the story that I probably should be telling, my biggest secret. It's the heaviest weight on my chest right now, and maybe I should follow my own advice and try to get rid of it. But that's my cross to bear. Last time I told the story, the price was pretty costly, and there's nothing that I can do to take it all back, so I have to live with it. Mea Culpa. Well I see a dark winding road off in the distance, I suppose we should see where it takes us... Addictions & Obsessions ======================= "It's getting hard to wake up in the morning, My head is spinning constantly, how could it be? How could I be so blind to this addiction? If I don't stop the next one's gonna be me, Only emptiness remains, It replaces all of the pain." [Martika] As promised, I'm going to try to wrap up that addiction piece that ended up morphing (there, I said it) into a useless tirade against (or was it for?) Mickey and his new liver. So before I get caught in the same trap again, on with the show... I suppose the big question that I was trying to get at was back to the standard nature versus nurture argument... But now I realize that that would be pointless. I've always been against the 'blame society' ideology, so it couldn't be nurture. So I guess that leaves us with nature. The problem with that argument is that it leads to the question, "are some of us destined to become addicts?" I don't know. Maybe. I've dealt with, and gotten past (not over) some of my former addictions (although at the time, it didn't seem like I had much of a choice), and I still carry some of my less harmful vices through to today. I could easily say that I am addicted to caffeine. Anyone that I've talked to through email in the morning (I usually check between waking up, and going to work) has probably heard me apologize for being somewhat incoherent due to the lack of caffeine, coursing through my body, but then again, I think I mentioned that a couple of months ago too. I can't imagine a day that doesn't begin with three cups of tea, or coffee, or even Dr. Pepper (thanks for the Big Slam by the way), and then another two cups as soon as I get into the office. So it'll be around ten o'clock in the morning, and I'm already juiced on five cups, any less and I'd probably be flipping in and out of consciousness. A friend of mine told me about some mixture called a 'lava coffee' (I think), which is basically Dr. Pepper filtered through coffee grounds, and I actually thought that that might be interesting. I still go through about two or three of those big packs of Wrigley's gum a week (depending on my stress level). But that's more of an addiction substitution. Whenever I get a certain craving, or a need to "drown my sorrows", just pop in a piece or two. On those extra long days, I've even gone through an entire pack of seventeen sticks. Probably not healthy, but my dentist probably loves it. Obsessions are pretty similar to addictions for me too. I think that these rantings would probably count as an obsession now. I don't think it's quite on of those hobby things. I find that hobbies are a lot more passive. You know, you'll work on it when you get around to it. An obsession, is much more... tangible. You can see what needs to be done. You can almost taste the desire to do it. It's a very... unique way of looking at things, but I like that definition, at least for myself. I find myself obsessed with my past. I keep on reliving the same events over and over, playing those stupid 'what if' games with myself, and always losing. I keep on having the same dreams and nightmares that have plagued me on and off for the past five years. I couldn't call it an addiction, because I don't want to think that I need this to get by. I'd prefer to think of it as something that keeps on coming up, constantly asking to be dealt with. "Are we there yet?" But for some reason, which still doesn't make any sense to me, I just ignore the voices, and try to bury everything, deeper and deeper inside me. Just hoping that one time I'll be able to push it down so far, that it'll never find its way out. No, it's not healthy. No, it's a really bad thing. No, I would desperately try to stop anyone else I know from doing the same thing to themselves. Who enjoys watching two of their friends fight it out? And even worse, what happens when both of those friends are the same person? But I guess that's just my way of doing things, it isn't the best way to deal with things, but maybe one day it'll work, and then I'll be able to relax, let down my guard and say that "I did it my way." Ah-yah-cha-cha. The Wagon Ran Me Over ===================== "Gotta kick at the darkness, until it bleeds daylight." [Bruce Hornsby] "I was young and foolish then, I feel old and foolish now." [They Might Be Giants] I'm trying to decide how much detail I should go into here. Thanks to my wonderful double life that I had a while ago, I could end up using this to tell some friends stuff that they didn't know about me, and maybe I didn't want them to know. On the other hand, this is what 'Eternity' is all about. This is my fight, this is my battle, this is my war, this is my never ending story... I could keep on dancing with my words, and let you guess the story. I've been doing that enough that I'm a pretty good dancer now (not on my feet, just with words). I'd probably make a decent spin doctor right now. I can hide the truth as easily as I can share it. Obscurity is now just another reflex. I can dodge questions that I don't want to answer, and then at other times, the answer just explodes out of me. I think the bottom line is that, maybe I just don't want to dance anymore. Let's talk about getting over the hump. Going cold turkey. Getting off the wagon. Kicking and screaming the entire way whenever the demon tries to grab you. I've faced my demons. And here's the story behind them... This is the first time that I've actually told this story without seeing the face of my audience, so try to understand if I leave out some details, or just decide to stop. The dancing shoes are coming off... I guess it all started back in 1990. I was fifteen, and thought that I was carrying the entire world on my shoulders. I felt the pressure of the responsibility. I thought that I had suffered, I thought I knew what pain was. I thought I needed to escape from the world. So, what was the easiest, cheapest, and quickest way for a fifteen year old to do that? So, I met up with a couple of friends, and we formed our own little 'social' club. Actually there were only six of us. Three couples, all the best of friends, all like fishes out of water. Alcohol was the easy choice. A friend of mine made up this little riddle for me after the smoke had cleared. "What do you get when you take a kid that wants to stay young forever, and force him to grow up too quickly?" I've stuck with that for a while now, and it still seems to fit me. I was actually leading the first issue off with that one, until Scott came up with his quote, so I used that instead. Anyways, back to alcohol. Adults did it. I thought I wanted to be an adult. I thought that I earned it. I thought that I could handle it. I thought wrong. Doing anything for the wrong reasons usually turns out to be more trouble than it's worth. Drinking mass quantities is one of them. At least for me it was. Don't worry, I won't start preaching about the dangers of the bottle. If you wanted a lecture, you could find someone to give it to you easily enough. This little game of 'drown the liver' went on for not too long actually. About three or four months. It wasn't too eventful, just getting pissed every couple of nights. Escaping the horrors of reality... Then IT happened. You don't get to hear this. I could sum it up as a bad experience, but I'd prefer to think of it as a life changing experience, and it changed life for the worse. This is my secret, and I'll tell you that right now, it's going to the grave with me. Last time I told, I was punished and lost my best friend. I refuse to take that chance again. So I'll tell you what stopped me from returning, even when things had gotten worse... About a month after IT happened, I was on vacation with my family in sunny Florida for a month. During that time, one of the six (emotionally, she was my sister) was driving her boyfriend home one night. All of a sudden a drunk truck driver ends up on her side of the road. He clips her car and keeps on going (they pulled him over further down the highway)... Meanwhile, their car is spun like a top, and stops when it hits the light post. He escapes with a couple of scratches and cuts, and a pair of broken ribs. She, lived for three hours, two of them awake and in his arms. She felt it all, and he couldn't do anything to help her. No phones, no one willing to pull over and 'get involved.' When I came back, he called me and told me everything. He didn't hold back, and I didn't want him to. I tried to absorb his pain, his emotion. He was a brother to me, and if I could have taken all of his pain away, and felt the brunt of it myself, I would have. I tried to take it all away. I tried to take some of it away. But I couldn't. I took everything I could away from him, to the point that now it feels like I was there that night. I held her in my arms, and hear her cries. Trying to be strong for both of us. Trying to be strong for her. What do you say to a guy that lost the only thing that mattered to him in his life? He was unstable before, and after that, there was no stopping him. He tried everything to stop his pain. We went on a self destructive binge, hoping that somehow he could find the strength to stop the pain forever. Every August 19th since that night, he goes out to the closest bar he can find, and just stares at a double shot glass. Too afraid to touch it, but trying to draw his strength from it. The last time that I talked to him was two years ago, he's still not over her, and to be honest, neither am I. This is part of the picture. Why I'm terrified to head back to the bottle. Even socially. I can't take the chance anymore. If just a kid, hiding in the shadows, hoping that the boogey man won't be able to find me. Just stay really still, and you'll be safe. So for the longest while, that's what I did. I hid in the shadows. I became almost invisible. Just wrap yourself up into a little ball, and hope that a shell will form around you. When that didn't work, I turned to 'Eternity'. Hoping to draw some semblance of strength from this, from you. I've followed the same path as him. Almost. Once he told me that he saw too much of himself in me, that little riddle puzzled me for a long time, I think I only realized fully what he meant last year. I dabbled in pain. Had a little ritual of staring at a vodka bottle that I had kept, as a sick reminder, on the same July night, year after year. Eventually I threw that into an airfield behind where I used to work one night, too bad it had already cost me another friend before I realized that I needed to get rid of it. I can remember everything as vividly right now, as I could after the fog of my last hangover was lifted. A lot of people wake up the next morning thinking "I did what?" and getting embarrassed over the previous night's adventures... I get nightmares about what I did, and sometimes I still wake up in a cold sweat. If there was a Ron Co. product that could erase memories, and keep them hidden away somewhere far, far away, where I wouldn't have to deal with them, these would be the first ones I'd want to lose. Then again, these are the last ones I'd want to lose as well. Duality, hypocrisy, and split decisions. Call it what you want, I just want to hurting to stop. End of round two. I think that's enough raw emotion for this issue. I might continue this idea next month, depends on how I react to it, and how you react to it, but for now here's some of the more regular stuff... A Day In The Life... ==================== "I read the news today, oh boy..." [The Beatles] The television critic. Almost as useless as that couple that quit their jobs to review infomercials. What's next? The Infomercial Awards? I can see it now. Ron Popeil would get the lifetime achievement award, and a special gift for coming up with the pocket fisherman (spool of thread with a hook). Mike Levy would get the most annoying male host, and Susan Powter would get the most obnoxious female host. And Dr. Nick Riveria would get the fastest reflex award from ducking out of the way of that chair (sorry, the Simpsons were just on). Just what the world needed. Anyways, back to the television critic. What's the point? I was reading the Toronto Star this morning, not really looking for material, but instead I found two articles that I could actually twist into whatever shape suited me best at the time. So the first article I came across was in the Entertainment section, written by none other than Jim Bawden, TV Columnist (it used to say critic). Anyways, I guess he had to fill up a bit of space, because he chose the media's favourite filler next to Kato Kaelin's latest exploits... pornography! I won't bother reprinting the article, but I'll give you a couple of quick snips from it. Oh, and if you want to find the article, it's the Monday June 26, 1995 issue, page E1. Paragraph 3, "Over the past few months, I've been receiving complaints about the promotion of naughty movies on the pay-per- view service. All the calls came from mothers who said they were embarrassed when ads for the movies appeared on their screens. Young children started asking questions while impressionable teens wondered out loud how the service might be ordered." My first question was, "why are all these mothers calling him?" And my next thought was, wasn't it supposed to be the parent's jobs to teach their kids about sex? I think that question is supposed to be the cue for pulling our blanket's of denial over our heads. Does everybody have their's on? Kids asking about sex? Nah, can't be. Teenagers trying to get their hands on porn? Impossible! But I suppose, if parents are willing to let their kids watch Barney, while trying to ban the Power Rangers, then anything's possible. So, Jim "the Puritan" Bawden, get's off his pedestal (or perhaps onto a higher one) and calls up his local cable company, and orders "Nurses In Lust." (I'm serious.) I'm guessing that he watched the entire thing, because he give a quick little review of it. "... this was an A to Z compendium of pornography, including oral sex, lesbianism, and anal intercourse." Doesn't sound like he was closing his eyes, plugging his ears with his fingers, and humming Amazing Grace during the movie, does it? And as a footnote, he was shocked that it was directed by a woman. Like women aren't allowed in the industry or something. Who did he think was doing the lesbian scene? Anyways, one wasn't enough for his article. So now he orders "Nikki's Casting Couch." Not on the next day, but right after. I'm not sure if he actually got around to watching all of this one though. All he said was that it "was just as sexually explicit and stupid." But I'm sure that ordering two pornos in one night was purely research, right? Some people take pens from work, others, well... Almost at the end of the article he has this to share with us, "Are you, like me, ever so slightly queasy at the thought of pornography available on demand with a simple phone call? I've heard from some mothers about this. But no feminists have phoned complaining about the degradation of women. I think that's sad." Poor little Jimbo, couldn't find any feminists to back him up on this one. So all he's got is probably a small handful of mothers that caught their kids 'in the act,' so to speak. And why isn't he bothers that you can get it in any video store or convenience store in the neighbourhood? Maybe as long as it's not in his house he doesn't have to admit that it exists, but it might have actually given him some credibility. Personally, this doesn't bother me, it's just the fact that I'm being preached at, which does. His big complaint seems to all rely on the fact that you can watch such explicit sex without even needing to go to your local video store, and flashing some ID. Which is probably a valid claim. But I don't think you can just blame it on viewers choice. Everyone knows how to turn off a television. A reasonably large chunk of the population subscribes to pay-tv, which gets you all the movies you can watch, unedited and without those pesky commercials all day, including, guess what, soft-core porn pretty much all night, every night. So, you just won't get pay-tv. Easy enough, but you can get the same stuff on cable, you just have to watch the commercials. So just cut cable out of the equation. So what's left? Network TV? Well, you can get the same stuff there too, maybe not as often, but I remember watching Porky's, uncut, on channel seven, way back in public school. So it looks like the only problem is to toss the television out the window. Problem solved and I think that it's safe to take off the blankets now... Similar Features ================ "Go on and close your eyes, imagine me there, She's got similar features, but longer hair And if that's what it takes, to get you through, Go on and close your eyes, it shouldn't bother you." [Melissa Etheridge] Oh what a bastard am I. What a jerk, what an idiot, what an uncaring, insensitive brute am I. How could I do this? I think I've been leading on a close and dear friend of mine for too long. Hell, anytime is too long. We've always gotten along well, but the problem is that I think that whenever I've felt 'that way' about her, it's because of her similarities to someone that left me a while ago. She doesn't even have that much in common with me, but I don't like obstacles, so what do I do? I try to mold her into the other her (this might get complicated, but bear with me, I don't feel like alienating anyone right now, so no names). I've tried to convince myself that they have the same personality (which they don't). At best, the only thing they have in common, is a very slight resemblance. But sometimes that's enough for me to work my twisted magic on. Especially after everything I yammered on and on about last month. She's a true friend. I like her, I respect her, maybe I even trust her. So, let's just send my mind on a vacation, and let my heart try to screw up another great friendship for me. Maybe someday I'll learn, right? For everyone else, love seems to be many a splendoured thing. So why is it that I have to twist it into some sick and perverted game? Everything else is a game to me, why not this too? Why is it that everytime I find someone that I actually feel close to, I have to do something stupid to destroy it all. Not just the relationship. Not just the friendship. But both lives? It never seemed this complicated in the movies. But then again, my world is a little different from Hollywood. Probably more like one of those obscure french movies, where everyone dies in the end, except for the hero, he gets to go insane. What We Need ============ I spent a bit of this weekend watching the Live Aid rerun and it got me thinking. The first couple of thoughts were "so this is why everyone always raves about Queen's segment" and "how come no one told me that the Cars were there?" After a while I actually started to get some rational thoughts forming, and so as usual, you get to hear them first. How come our (or at least my) generation never really had a defining 'come together' moment like that? It doesn't need to be a concert, but I think that's what we need. There's no point in trying to deny that we're probably the single most apathetic group of people in the twentieth century. From where I'm standing, I can see myself being too old to really be wrapped up in anything. I was ten when Live Aid originally aired, and all I can remember was that it was getting in the way of all of my weekend cartoons. So I'm too young to have been affected by Live Aid, and I'm far too old to have gotten trapped in the turtles or the rangers. Besides, I was never a big fan of the surf scene, so why would I want to watch a bunch of California Dreamin' turtles beating the snot out of bad guys in sewers. And, well the Power Rangers just speak for themselves. The only thing that I can think of relating to with that is that seven years ago my boss's name was Rita, and well let's just say that there were similarities. What have we got? Nothing comes to mind. Maybe, if you really want to stretch it, you could use the Freddie Mercury tribute concert at Wembley, but I don't think that that united everyone. All it really did was convince Queen fans that Axl Rose was about as close to an anti-christ that you'll ever find. So where's our moment? What do we have that we can talk about ten or even twenty years from now when we're mingling at an office party, and trying to come up with some meaningless drivel for small talk? I'm far too young to ask anyone where they were when Kennedy was shot. My parents probably didn't even know each other back then. But I'm not just looking for a conversation piece. I think we need to find something that we can all rally around. Something that everyone actually cares about enough to want to fight to fix it. This goes beyond boycotting TicketMaster because they have a service charge. I thinking about the 'concert festivals' that we have now. Lollapalooza is just really bad music, played really loud, all against commercialism, and all the profits going to Perry Farell. Woodstock '94 was an attempt to join everyone together, but no one really cared enough to realize that, the commercialism there didn't help its reputation any either. No one can agree with the ideas behind any of these, so it just doesn't count. No one cares about politics anymore, all anyone is willing to say is that whoever is in power is doing it wrong. The only thing that people seem to care about any more is the almighty dollar. And that's not really a symbol that's worth all the attention that it seems to be receiving. And the environmental crisis was put on the back burner as soon as people figured out that no one really gets impressed when you recycle and compost, and it actually takes a bit of effort to accomplish. Why? Why can't we seem to find anything that's worth fighting. I don't even think that this is our fault. I think this is just lousy timing. All the crap that the world has to throw at us seems to be falling in my timeframe. There's nothing worth getting worked up over. So what can we do? Invent something? Maybe. I'm not sure, but at least I think I found what part of the problem might be. What to do with this information? Maybe I'll figure it out somewhere down the line. I'll have to let you know when I get something. Ender's Game ============ "'Ender's Game' was written and sold. I knew it was a strong story because I cared about it and believed in it. I had no idea that it would have the effect it had on the audience. While most people ignored it, of course, and continue to live full and happy lives without reading it or anything else by me, there was still a surprisingly large group who responded to the story with some fervency." [Orson Scott Card] Alright, I fell into a little trap recently. I haven't really gotten into a book for a while. I mean really gotten into a book. I think the last book that I couldn't put down was "The 97th Step" by Steve Perry, and that was early last summer. So it caught me a bit off guard when I fell into "Ender's Game" by Orson Scott Card. Last night, around 11:30 I was feeling tired so I figured that I'd just go to bed, and maybe get through a couple of chapters before I nodded off. Next thing I know is that it's 3:30, and I'm about 250 pages further than I planned on going. I was trying to decide whether I should actually include this little 'review' into the articles this month, but then I figured that I've plugged other books (Osirian Rhapsody, kinda), so why not? So what if it is commercial, I never pretended to be above that. No one's paying me to do this, so it's still my choice. Anyways, we are talking about a real book here. I picked it up because it seemed interesting enough, and I wanted a book to read. It had won a couple of awards (which really don't count for too much anyways, but it won them) so I figured that throwing away the seven dollars wouldn't be that much of a waste. So now here I am, a day later, and with less than fifty pages to go, and I'm thinking 'what a great book.' I'm sitting here at work (during lunch) and all morning I was thinking about how would I react to this event, and that event that the main character had to deal with. As best as I can describe it, this book is a cross between "Rogue Warrior" (Richard Marcinko) and "Lord of the Flies" (William Golding). From the authors notes, this is a love hate book. Either you relate to the characters and love it, or you look at it as an outsider and hate it. It's been around for a while, so someone reading this might have even read it at one point, I'd be interested in hearing your views on it. Anyways, I like it. It's a great story, but also one that I couldn't really hide from, so I was pulled right into it. Go to the library if you don't feel like buying it, it's one that I would recommend. Take that for whatever it's worth to you. And They Said It Couldn't Be Done ================================= Well, being the sixth issue and all, it seems kind of fitting that I acknowledge someone. The problem is who. So after a bit of thought I think I've come up with the perfect person. This issue is dedicated to Ms. Waterbury, my tenth grade english teacher. She was the first teacher that let me find out what I could do instead of telling me what I couldn't. She might not have taught me how to fly, but she showed me that I didn't need to listen when people said that it was impossible. About The Web Page ================== I managed to get a day off this week, so I've spent my day editing this issue and fixing my web page. So if you took a look at it earlier, or you haven't seen it yet, it might be worth a quick glance. All I need to do now is learn how to add a form and I think it should be set. Anyways, the address is listed below. Anyways, comments are welcome. I'd like to know what should be fixed or improved. Stuff You Really Need To Know... ================================ Well if you have this then you probably know how you got it, but in case this was passed on to you, then I'll just let you know where you can find it. ftp: ftp.etext.org: /pub/Zines/WhyMe/ gopher: gopher.etext.org (follow the prompts) web: http://www.interlog.com/~vash/ (new and improved!) mail: if you want a copy of an old issue sent by mail then just send a request to me at the eternity address. If you ask for a copy I'll send one to you. subscriptions: Just send me mail, I'll add you to the list. All I ask is that you let me know what you think about this 'zine, and you can even mention how you found out about it. That's not asking too much is it? Order of distribution: mailing list, web page, ftp/gopher site As always, if you have a question, comment, statement, rant, or anything, feel free to let me know. There's always room for me to improve, and there's always room for an extra page of filler. Disclaimer ========== I take full responsibility of the overall content here. There might be other contributors (and what they say is their own intellectual property), but what goes into this is my choice. Truth is subjective (if you believe something then to you it is fact, and if you don't then it is fiction, simple enough?) so I won't make any claims about honesty... believe what you want. If you're going to use something from here just make sure that you cite whoever wrote the article. If it doesn't say who wrote it, then it's probably me. Still asking: If you know anything about ISSN numbers, like where I can get one, or what I need them for, or even if I need one, could you please let me know... Everyone else has one, and I want one too. Thanks. Sanjay Singh (7/21/95)