On Storm Euphoria

What is it about the storm on the horizon? All of the earthly hues become dulled, desaturated, as though their vibrancy was tapped to fuel the roiling darkness in the sky. What is it about the ebb and flow of the wind waves, the way they tousle the trees and leave them shimmering with nervous energy? The leaves struggle to right themselves, to hide their pale, exposed underbellies. Then a flash in the clouds; brief and bright, diffusing through the sky like the firing of some Godly synapse. What is it about the slow, low crescendo that sounds seconds later, the guttural, escalating rumble that never fails to catch one by surprise? Car windows are rolled up, fans are taken out of windows, children are ushered indoors. What is it about the pleasure of anticipation? The delight of an impending summer storm? What is it about the cerebral tickle that such empyreal foreplay affords?

And why, like some fleeting spirit, must it vanish when the first drops make their violent contact with the earth?

On Space Disasters and Disbelief

I had a rather strange experience today, and after reflecting on it for a few minutes, I realized that it was actually pretty frightening.

I was reading the cover story in the latest issue of The Atlantic, entitled "The Sky is Falling." The article addresses some of the recent concerns of various astronomers regarding the number of potentially hazardous space objects that are in Earth's vicinity. Some new considerations of evidence of past strikes by space objects, coupled with new methods of locating hard-to-see objects near the Earth have led some researchers to believe that we are in a lot more danger of getting hit by a careening asteroid or comet than we previously thought. After presenting the evidence, the article spends most of its length addressing the fact that NASA has no interest in diverting any funds into researching this risk, let alone to develop methods to better track space objects or attempt to divert them should they make a b-line straight for our planet.

Now, the frightening experience I had regarding all this is the fact that I caught myself scoffing in skepticism at the article. As I read it, I found I had a really hard time taking it seriously. Then suddenly it dawned on me: not only is all of this obviously very possible, but the very attitude I initially reacted with is the attitude most people seem to be displaying, including those in the best position to actually study and/or plan for such a disastrous event. Currently, the number of people on the planet that are concerned about the very real possibility of a decent sized object hitting the Earth or exploding in its atmosphere is very small, and these folks must be extremely frustrated. I'm not sure if movies like Armageddon and Deep Impact have had a negative cultural influence, if people just can't comprehend such a thing because it has never occurred in a historical context most people can grasp, or if humans in general have developed too much of a feeling of invincibility. Regardless, were scientists to discover tomorrow an asteroid that will likely hit Earth within the lifetime of most living people, it's doubtful that anything could be put in place in enough time to have any impact on the course of events. That's pretty frightening. But even in realizing that, it is still very difficult to grasp.

I think people in general avoid getting too deeply involved with things regarding the greater universe because they are so complex and humbling and nearly incomprehensible that people feel immensely uncomfortable. Space is too large a reminder of our finiteness and our insignificance, and space disasters are hard to take seriously because they've always be relegated to the realms of science fiction and big screen cinema, and almost always involve gross oversimplifications of astronomical concepts and objects. There is no way for a layperson to grasp the subtleties of our very solar system, the forces that are interacting within in it, and the objects with which we share a common space without investing a lot of time into research and contemplation. There's also little chance for the common man to gain an understanding of the diplomatic complexities involved with even orchestrating an effective defense against rogue space objects without accidentally spurring international disputes or even physical conflicts. The whole situation operates in a realm far above what the average person likes to consider in their day to day life, and so long as officials who are in a position to know and act are content with maintaining working relationships that only insure a constant money flow, the threat of an Earth impact will remain quite distant from the concerns of the public at large.

Or maybe it's a mistake to even assume that we have the capabilities to divert such a disaster. There are limits to our power, however immense we believe ourselves to be. But pessimism like that doesn't seem to fit right; it's not a garb our nature can wear convincingly. The result then is even more disturbing: we believe that we have the ability to control our own destinies and manipulate the universe, but we lack the willpower or interest or foresight to actually prove we're worth our salt. It seems feasible that we can divert disaster, but we don't want to think about how to do it until we have evidence that such a disaster is worth our consideration.

And sadly, we too often find this corroboration only after the disaster has already struck.

On Self-Inflicted Testicular Abuse and How It Changed Everything

Ever since the early days of America's Funniest Home Videos, the groin shot has occupied a special place in the heart of the country. Whether it be little kids with flailing arms, a mis-step at the pool, or a bike ride gone wrong, it seems as though the TV viewers of this nation have always rather gleefully embraced depictions of men injuring their manhood. Though this fascination seems outwardly sadistic, there is also a decidedly masochistic bent to the ritual, as any man can tell you of the uncomfortable tightening in his nether regions when he witnesses someone else get whacked in theirs.

The rise of Jackass saw an unusual (and somewhat alarming) intensification of the drive towards injured family jewels, with individuals not being unfortunate victims of testicular misfortune but active and willing participants in premeditated and outlandish methods of genital abuse. At times these antics extended into quite perverse realms, arguably even blurring the lines between mere adolescent pranksterism and the homoerotic. In a way, it is easy to understand why countless teenage boys would flock to graphic depictions of other men's genitals when the ultimate purpose was to watch those very genitals get injured in bold displays of fearlessness and impulsivity. Male nudity could be forgiven, even embraced, for the sake of such seemingly profound statements of rebellion and the unbridled spirit of manliness. Literally seeing your hero's balls as he applies electric shocks to them only reaffirms that he does indeed have the balls to do something so brazen and taboo. And so it seems that in many young minds, the level of bodily abuse that can be absorbed has a direct correlation to the strength of that body, and from this, one could argue that the amount of pain one's balls can endure says a lot about just how big one's metaphorical balls are when it's time to measure courage.

This could explain the proliferation of home-made videos of testicle injury that have spread across the internet in the years following the Jackass explosion. All across the web, teenagers can be observed leaping onto banisters, taking hits from see-saws and spring-loaded playground animals, or imploring their friends to take as many free shots as they'd like. Absent the above Jackassian explanation, such videos seem to defy all logic. What compels a group of youths to film each other actively attempting to injure the one part of their body no male in his right mind would want to have harmed? Who is this document for? Many times, these videos are shot in unpopulated areas, where the performer and the cameraman are the only souls present. What sort of tragic psychology implores someone to undertake such a freakishly impressive feat when there's no one around to witness it? Sure, the video makes a permanent document of the event, but even to those who enjoy watching such senseless film-making, the implications of smashing your balls for no audience and for no good reason doubtlessly spur some strange stabs of confusion or pity, if only subconsciously.

But these videos are feeding two different sets of desires in two different sets of individuals. First, they serve to reaffirm the impulsive and outward opinion-driven adolescent of his masculinity and his autonomy. Not only does he have the balls to hurt his balls, but he has the choice to hurt his balls, and he has chosen to hurt them. Second, the videos pander to the omnipresent show of morbidity that is the American fascination with testicle smashing. People still love to see other people get injured in truly heinous ways, but only if those ways are not gory and can be easily recovered from. It's sort of like laughing when seeing someone trip, providing the tripped person's head isn't bashed open.

A weird cycle is then formed, in which the parties contributing to the continuous motion of the cycle aren't even consciously aware of their participation. The people smashing their balls aren't showing others the video tape of the event because they think people like seeing hurt balls, but because they think people will be impressed with their recklessness and display of strength. Likewise, the people that actually just find it entertaining to see people get hit in the nuts don't think that those hitting their nuts are doing it to reaffirm their manliness, but only because they know people will find it humorous. Both parties still get what they want, despite having erroneous beliefs about the motivations of the other party. Such a loop couldn't exist in the days of America's Funniest Home Videos, because those experiencing scrotal injury weren't actively seeking it. Things were more straightforward in those days: everyone seemed to recognize that people just liked seeing hurt balls, so if someone happened to hurt their balls on film, it made sense to share it with others for the humor value. And yes, on the surface it does seem that simple still, but as shown above, the intentional injury factor actually changes the dynamics quite a bit.

But really, it all just boils down to the endless obsession males have with their own privates. Apparently, sometimes it's alright to extend that obsession to other people's privates, too. But in a way that's totally straight. Totally.

On Really, Really, Really Bad Ideas

Tonight I came across an article about a business deal cut between Staples and a company called Flexplay. It seems Flexplay dabbles in an interesting market: that of self-destructing DVDs. Apparently, Flexplay produces movie disks that are rendered unplayable 48 hours after being removed from their packaging. This is due to a chemical reaction between oxygen and an adhesive agent the disk is produced with. According to one source, the idea is to offer movie rentals that don't have to be watched immediately and don't wrack up late fees.

These Flexplay discs are going to be sold for 5 bucks a pop. Five dollars for a DVD that you can probably only watch once, and then must be thrown away. What sort of deal is that? The cheapest Netflix plan costs five dollars and it'll get you two movies per month, which, when spaced across that time frame, also removes most people's worries of late fees or making time to watch a film. And with Netflix, you return the movies and they can be used again. You can be a film buff with a clean conscience, because you're not producing hugely uncessesary, non-biodegradable waste.

And let's consider it this way: DVDs are almost pure plastic. And we all know that plastic is made from petrochemicals, which means they all involve oil. This is an aspect of the oil crisis that people don't often consider. It extends far beyond the gasoline we pump into our cars. Do we really need one more utterly disposible plastic product being produced? Christ, even plastic bags can be reused multiple time before you are forced to discard them, but these DVDs are only good for one viewing, and then they're good for absolutely nothing. Except sitting in a landfill for the rest of eternity. What is the point?

I'm just baffled by the whole thing. By the number of people involved in orchestrating the production and introduction of a product like this, none of whom seem to recognize that it's just a tragically moronic venture. You can go to WalMart and buy movies for 5 dollars these days. Permanent, enjoyable, re-watchable movies. Not that I want to concede even a little bit that any of this makes sense, but 5 dollars for a self-destructing rental (I find it odd to call it a rental, too, because afterall, you do own the useless piece of garbage after you've left the store with it)? What about one dollar? If you're going to make something that disposable, why not make the price worth someone's while? The fact that they have to charge a pretty unreasonable price (likely to recoup production expenses) should be enough of a hint that this is a really bad idea. That, and the fact that a company already tried this nearly a decade ago and was driven into extinction within months.

It's not that they're not trying, though. A visit to the official Flexplay website yields this message:

"All Flexplay discs are recyclable and no different in their environmental impact than regular DVDs. Polycarbonate is a fully recyclable plastic and the proprietary chemical and technology used in the limited play DVD conform to applicable EPA standards for health and environmental protection.

And of course, a Flexplay No-Return DVD Rental completely eliminates the energy usage and emissions associated with a return trip to the video rental store."

Hmm. I guess yes, technically, they are no different in environmental impact than normal DVDs, besides the fact that you don't throw away your other DVDs after watching them once. In fact, I don't know anyone that throws away DVDs ever, unless they break or become too damaged to function (which actually takes quite a bit of effort). Most people just keep them, give them away, re-sell them, anything. And are they honestly suggesting that they're actually benefiting the environment in the long run by reducing trips to the rental stores? I wonder how embarrassed or pathetic they feel for even venturing that suggestion. Sure, some emissions are being prevented, but is it really enough to offset all the junk DVDs that will be thrust into circulation? Unless of course lots of people frequently drive semi-trucks to rental stores many miles away from their homes. I bet there was a lot of debate over whether or not to let that one lie or if it really might be better than not addressing environmental concerns at all. Netflix has them beat on this one too, and badly. Walking to my mailbox produces no emissions (unless I have an upset stomach) and results in no plastic-y trash. And don't even say the mail deliverer's vehicle is replacing the emissions that I'm avoiding by not using my vehicle. They were coming to my mailbox either way, smarties.

I don't know. The more write and the more I think about it, the more nonplussed and grumpy I get. Honestly, haven't we arrived at the point yet where we realized how screwed we are?

On the Pool of Profundity, and Why One Shouldn't Always Dive Right In

Have you ever had the unfortunate experience of diving into a body of water, only to have it be far more shallow than you were expecting? If so, hopefully it didn't paralyze you, and hopefully you'll agree that it's terribly unpleasant. I recently had this happen to me while driving behind a vehicle in Augusta.

I should add that this was a metaphorical dive into a metaphorical body of water, and that the injury was no so much to my spine as it was to the well-being of my mind.

The springboard of sorts was a bumper sticker. You see, whenever I read something that has even the slightest chance of being interesting, my brain leaps upon it with a ravenous hunger. As I came to a stop behind this vehicle at a traffic light, one bumper sticker jumped out at me. It said:

"If you can't change your mind, are you sure you still have one?"

And so my mind mind sprung into action. The result, as I've indicated above, was very similar to diving into the shallow end of a pool. If the pool of profundity can be said to have a deep end, that's the one I feel most comfortable in. If this bumper sticker could be said to have been floating in the pool of profundity, it most certainly was floating by the steps in the shallow end. Maybe even half-draped out of the pool.

But really; change my mind about what? I can think of plenty of instances where not changing one's mind about something is a perfectly reasonable attitude. In fact, I can think of circumstances where the only reasonable stance is that of steadfast adherence. Would the maker of this bumper sticker really say that a person who refuses to change their mind regarding the necessity of pants in public might very well be lacking a mind? Or what about a person's opinion on the permissibility of murder? I'd say that if someone is convinced that it's probably not a good idea to senselessly slaughter innocent people, then it's actually a little rude and stupid of you to insult them by suggesting that their unwillingness to budge on that point suggests some sort of mental deficit. And I'm also fairly sure that the person who changes their mind to decide that jabbing their finger into their own eye every few minutes is a good idea is the person who maybe should be unsure as to whether or not they still have a mind.

The sad thing about the fact that such a bumper sticker exists is not so much that a company employs enough dim people to let something so obtuse slip through to production, but that there are individuals out there who think that the quote it contains is profound enough to warrant slapping it on the back of their vehicle. And last I checked, bumper stickers, when left on for an extended period of time and exposed to the elements, do this lovely thing where they sort of fuse to the back of your vehicle and help drive its value down. Especially really stupid bumper stickers. Which, incidentally, also help to drive down people's opinions of you.

In sum, I refuse to change my mind when it comes to entertaining such a bumper sticker as something with any value whatsoever. If that means I've lost my mind, then haul me away.

On Sexual Compulsions and Restless Legs

If you watch network television on occasion, you've probably seen advertisements for medications like Requip or Mirapex that are marketed as a treatment for Restless Leg Syndrome (RLS), a weird, creepy-crawling feeling that usually occurs at night and makes sufferers feel as though they must constantly move their legs to attain comfort. Particularly severe cases can greatly disrupt sleep cycles or even lead to insomnia. Now, if you're like me (shut up), while watching these commercials you've probably wondered why some of the side effects listed include "intense gambling or sexual urges or other impulsive behaviors." What could these things possibly have to do with disorders involving involuntary motor-functions? My first reaction to encountering these weird side effects was a vague sort of dread regarding our forays into altering brain chemistry. Just what exactly is Mirapex tweaking deep within our cortices?

Turns out ropinirole (Requip) and pramipexole (Mirapex) are members of a class of drugs known as dopamine agonists, which means that they attach to dopamine receptors on various brain structures and mimic the effects of the neurotransmitter dopamine. (As an interesting aside, these drugs are specifically non-ergoline dopamine agonists, which means they do not involve ergoline alkaloids, a class of drugs that includes the infamous LSD and other hallucinogenics). Now, dopamine agonists are primarily used to treat Parkinson's disease, and ropinirole and pramipexole are no exceptions. In fact, they were originally created to treat Parkinson's disease, and are merely provided in smaller doses to treat RLS. Apparently, the roots of RLS may be very similar to those of Parkinson's disease, although on a much smaller (and apparently non-progressive) level. Here's where the fun brain science begins.

Parkinson's disease is caused by a decrease in dopamine production in the substantia nigra, a portion of the basal ganglia. The basal ganglia is an extremely important deep-brain structure and is responsible for far more brain activity that can be discussed here. What's important is that the dopamine that is normally produced by the substantia nigra usually binds with dopamine receptors on the striatum, another portion of the basal ganglia. There are four types of dopamine receptors, and it seems that D2 and D3 are the most directly related to Parkinson's symptoms (this info will be important in a minute). Though it regulates other things (which we'll touch upon shortly), one of the main functions of the striatum is the planning and regulation of movement. A Parkinson's afflicted brain isn't producing enough dopamine to activate the striatum sufficiently, which in turn results in decreased activation of the motor cortex, producing erratic, unintentional tremors, muscle rigidity and a variety of other motor problems. So on a smaller level, a similar dopamine disruption is responsible for RLS, and the dopamine agonist medications act to stimulate the receptors in the striatum that aren't being activated through normal brain chemistry.

Ok. So the striatum is also involved in some other sneaky stuff that is really pretty far removed from motor function, and this is where dopamine agonists can start to alter behavior in ways that at first seem quite random. It seems that the striatum also regulates a lot of processes related to something called "executive function." Executive function involves things such as planning, abstract thinking, selecting sensory information, and, getting closer to the core of our inquiry, selecting appropriate actions and inhibiting inappropriate ones. It is also largely involved with processing stimuli involved in reward. It seems that the striatum is activated when a person is presented with stimuli that are new, aversive, unexpected or particularly intense. We can now start to see how sexual compulsions, strange gambling urges and things like overeating are related to subtleties in chemistry in this particular region of the brain. Problems with impulse control are also frequently exhibited in people with Parkinson's disease. These issues are clearly related to feelings of reward (the extreme gratification of orgasm, the experience of winning or the exhilaration of taking risks, the pleasure of indulging in certain foods) and are also highly likely to involve stimuli that could be classified as "novel," "intense," or (depending on how depraved you are) "aversive." These functions appear to be closely related to the D3 receptors on the striatum. And of the two related receptors that Requip and Mirapex bind to, guess which one they like the best? You got it. D3.

So it would appear that if you screw with the dopamine receptors on the striatum, some sort of weird, screwy feedback loop can result, where people have less ability to inhibit their actions, which frequently results in the sorts of behavior that actually greatly stimulate the striatum in the end. This seems to be due to the fact that dopamine agonists like Requip and Mirapex actually decrease the sensitivity of the dopamine receptors over time. Logically, this increases the symptoms associated with the striatum. A really sucky situation can develop where an individual not only cannot produce the required dopamine, but also cannot accept dopamine (or agonist medications) in areas that it is required. It seems likely that, in the cases where an individual is taking a dopamine agonist for RLS and experiences odd compulsions, the medication might actually be altering the dopamine receptors' ability to bind with neurotransmitters, including what dopamine they are still naturally producing. Ah, the joy of medication!

Some other uncommon side effects also tie in closely with the functions of the striatum: hallucinations, confusion, paranoia, memory loss, abnormal thinking, abnormal dreams, and decreased sex drive.

And that's pretty much it. Does it ease my feeling of dread? No, not really. But it is interesting to see how trying to target one problem in the brain can inadvertently effect so many other areas of cognitive function. It also speaks to the mystery of our own brains when investigations such as these show how one small part of the brain can be responsible for such a diverse array of functions. Immensely cool stuff.

Anyway, I think I'm going to stick with aspirin for now. My brain doesn't need any more help being bizarre.

On the Unintentional Hiatus

To begin things truthfully, I'll admit that most days I forget all about this blog. I'm not sure what pulled me back here today, but I can't believe that the two-week frenzy of writing represented below was way back in January. It seems like yesterday, and the realization that so much time has actually passed stopped me in my tracks.

A lot has happened since my last post here. Unfortunately, some of the larger events have not been good. I feel like I'm probably at the lowest point I've ever been in my life. But I also feel like maybe it isn't very low, after all. And I'm thankful for that. A lot of people see me as overly sarcastic, judgmental, and maybe a little too pragmatic and realistic. A pessimist more than an optimist, someone that bashes a lot of idealism with the heavy hammer of skepticism. And maybe that does describe much of who I am. But one thing that I've always been, despite the ups and downs of my life thus far, is largely happy and fairly even-tempered. I have my meltdowns on occasion, but for the most part, there's just too many interesting things to do and see and hear and experience to be anything be glad that we have what time we do here on this planet. And this is it. Our life is all the time we have, and I think somewhere, maybe more subconsciously than anything else, my philosophy is to love it, no matter what's thrown at me.

It's strange, because several years back I sort of ran into this philosophy in a more fleshed-out form, and it actually took me a while to recognize that it was very congruent with a mindset that I had never really noticed I possessed. The philosophy is Nietzsche's amor fati, a "love of fate" of sorts, the feeling that no matter what happens in your life, you wouldn't change it. That you would be content to live that life over and over again if given the opportunity. It seems a near impossible task. And I'm sure that a lot of people can never bring themselves to feel that way.

A lot of messed up things have happened in my life (or so it seems to me, but I'm aware its not nearly as storied as many other people's), but when I think about all those events, I wouldn't change any part of how things went. A lot of things that seemed terrible at the time actually set me up for some really great things in my life, things I can't imagine ever having gone without. And things I'm afraid I might be losing at this very moment have likely changed me in ways that will have an important bearing on how I live the rest of my life.

And today, yes, I feel pretty awful. But somehow I still feel happy, too. I have so many things to get better at, so many events ahead of me, so many memories that are waiting patiently to be made and so many already tucked away that I never want to lose.

So here's to maybe the end of this writing hiatus. I won't promise anything, but right now, I need things to focus my mind.