The last time I posted, I expressed our family’s general disapproval of leftism. Before that, I expressed a general disapproval of social media. Today, I’m going to express a general disapproval of myself and/or the world around us.

More specifically, I’m going to share a general problem I’ve had likely since my foray into learning my native language and the essence of love through a guy in a purple and yellow suit singing a variation of “This Old Man”.

The world around us exists, at least to our general consensus. Deep down we have no proof of that beyond our experiences, but roll with me on this one, okay? The world around us exists.

Pick an object, any common object, I’ll use a key as an example. The key is comprised of brass atoms and shaped in a specific form. However, it has no inherent value alone since value is a creation of living things perceiving it.

So that key is interpreted by human minds. Most other creatures, except maybe brass-eating bacteria, treat a chunk of crafted brass as an obstacle or, at worst, a life-threatening blade of doom. But humans see things with more complicated eyes.

A human usually associates a key as a tool for a specific purpose, and most keys don’t have much value to anyone. However, one specific key on a specific keyring might be worth a small panic attack if misplaced at the wrong time.

Further, the concept of a key holds its own philosophical implication. From “KEYstone pipelines” to “KEY to the city” to “John Maynard KEYnes”, the philosophical implications of a key recall pre-existing symbols and representations which have little to do with a factory-stamped chunk of brass.

There is one truth and as many narratives as the number of perceivers. Further, the perceiver doesn’t even have to witness the physical thing either! You’ve been thinking about a key without even seeing one and presume that keys in the exotic land of Iowa function relatively in the same manner as wherever you read this marvel of modern technology.

We process this existing world through our senses (and usually imaginations) and come to conclusions. Those conclusions encode themselves in our minds as “chair” or “car” or “Ralph Nader”. The trouble with our encoding is that it’s pretty defective.

We assign patterns that shouldn’t be there (Mega Millions lottery tickets, anyone?) or ignore obvious patterns (by what safe method of transport do you convey yourself daily to your place of employment, good sir?). This (largely somewhat) effective system gets us into some trouble a world of hurt.

For one thing, these patterns become progressively less and less attached to that true reality that the information originally bases itself upon. Over time, our intuitions develop a keen sense of prejudice that guides us boldly and confidently into some really stupid decisions as we require less and less brainpower to satisfactorily skate through life.

Everything I’ve just said could easily be met with “Yeah, so? That’s life. You’re noting the obvious. I’m going to go internet somewhere else more meaningful and read Florida Man.” Hear me out before you read elsewhere.

This inherent delusional thinking hard-wired into our psyche develop into a farther-reaching implication. Heads of state, doctors, pastors, teachers, and hall monitors are all subject to those comforting delusions. The people who wield most of the power in this world are biased toward those prejudices.

Further, the wielders of +3 Social Influence aren’t the only ones violently placating their bias. Essentially everyone everywhere has a prodigiously and pellucidly perverted imperspicuous perspective. Feigned urbane circuitous flaggellations aside, we’re all stuck insisting our inaccurate belief of the truth is more true than the truth!

In a nutshell, it means that anyone getting by in this world never needs to concern themselves with what really is and perpetually consume themselves with what appears to be.

My likely low-grade ODD and high-functioning ASD combined with my mother’s NPD created a profound disregard for implied narrative from my childhood’s emotional inflexibility coping with a woman’s manipulation of narrative to cast all personal responsibility from herself.

I now know what I’ve done. For the last thirteen years I’ve traversed through a series of progressively wilder career choices due to an obliviousness to what I appeared to be. I went from “young ???” to “young aspiring accountant” to “young aspiring accountant who couldn’t get a job” to “accountant who gave up that life to be a truck driver”.

I don’t regret my decisions, but I’m reaping them either way. I could throw some shade on those other people aware of how wrong-headed I was who were too fearful to bring it up, but I also appeared (probably still do) to not give a flying Dutchman about their thoughts.

Blame is a child’s game. From here, I have given up my military aspirations and intend to head back into accounting after hauling appliances around adds more “un” to “rotund”.

Maybe it’ll be nonprofit accounting or maybe something on the supply-chain/logistics side. No idea. Plans are for people with actual deadlines to get somewhere.

Only God knows what happens next, which is quite comforting, since I don’t know what I’m doing. Of course, I haven’t met anyone who really does, but some of them are really good at narrative crafting!


2 thoughts on “Narrative American

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