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Sleep That Knits Up The Raveled Sleeve of Care

Well, not so much, actually.

New research has shown that sleep preserves and enhances unpleasant emotional memories.

A recent study by sleep researchers at the University of Massachusetts Amherst is the first to suggest that a person’s emotional response after witnessing an unsettling picture or traumatic event is greatly reduced if the person stays awake afterward, and that sleep strongly “protects” the negative emotional response. Further, if the unsettling picture is viewed again or a flashback memory occurs, it will be just as upsetting as the first time for those who have slept after viewing compared to those who have not.

…”We found that if you see something disturbing, let’s say an accident scene, and then you have a flashback or you’re asked to look at a picture of the same scene later, your emotional response is greatly reduced, that is you’ll find the scene far less upsetting, if you stayed awake after the original event than if you slept. It’s interesting to note that it is common to be sleep-deprived after witnessing a traumatic scene, almost as if your brain doesn’t want to sleep on it.”

So MacBeth unwittingly had the right idea. Sleep after a traumatic event and you guarantee a strong emotional response later on. But if you want to avoid the power of the traumatic event, the best response is to stay awake.

This suggests also that what you think about right before you go to sleep is important. It might be worth it to try and think about good, happy thoughts before going to sleep. The custom of praying away your cares could stem from this. Letting go and letting God, truly believing that — it would help the ability of sleep to iron a more peaceful attitude into your brain rather than the opposite.

It doesn’t have to be prayer, of course. Spending an hour before bed doing anything you enjoy would suffice, I’d think. Reading a good book, listening to some great music, a relaxing stretch, a nice cup of cocoa, a lovely bout of sex with your lover, all of it would be pleasant enough to be the moodlifter before sleep.

Something to think about.

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Things I’d Like To Get Done This Year

So I’m finally getting around to some resolutions. Better late than never, better started than never.

  1. I’d like to finish one screenplay.
  2. I’d like to finish one novel.
  3. Losing weight would be nice.
  4. Start and keep a cleaning schedule at the condo.

OK, the condo’s not ready for Hoarders or anything. It’s just cluttered and I clean here and there. Getting something done every day, the main tasks done every week, and then monthly and quarterly cleaning jobs — that would be nice, though.

And as much as I’ve bothered about the edges of writing, even stabbing toward the center for the last two Nanowrimos and a ScriptFrenzy, I’ve never completed anything more than the one screenplay back in 2005. The one that the universe took away from me, backup copies and all. This was probably a good thing, as the script was likely junk. All first scripts, first drafts are. But I do need to do another, and another again.

And I have “let myself go,” physically speaking. 230 pounds I am. I always said that if it weren’t for the needs of the theater, I wouldn’t care about how my body looked. And I don’t, really. If I stayed looking like this and was healthy, I’d stay like this. And truth be told, the physicals all come out on the healthy side.

But on the offhand chance that the body’s wearing down, I really should get off my duff and around the actual block a few times. Living on the third and fourth floor hasn’t made a dent in the weight department. So I guess I oughta.

In short, I need to be a bit nicer to myself. Not writing and cleaning as need be and not eating right and not exercising are all great ways to surround myself with failure, collecting daily failures into a collection so constantly curated, there’s no time to build an actual display. The rooms of failure speak for themselves, actually. One more thing to not do!

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Boy Howdy, It’s Been A While

One year and three months, basically.

I guess I could start writing again. May as well.

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I’m Going for NaNoWriMo

Taking up a longtime plot I keep threatening to write – the tombstone that tells you the date of someone’s death. Luke Drayer has bigtime daddy issues, and when he’s called back to his small Alabama hometown to take care of the man, he discovers that his monstrous father is now plagued with what we would call Alzheimer’s. Feeling trapped by how his life has turned out, he finds the tombstone wreaking havoc in the town with its selective way of revealing what it knows. Yet still he burns to know one simple thing: when will his father die and release him from this horror?

I’m calling it “This Thing of Darkness”, from Prospero’s final acceptance of Caliban: “This thing of darkness I acknowledge mine.” The main plot is something I’d write for Twilight Zone based around the tombstone. Luke participates in these side stories, but his antagonist is his father, or the thing his father has become. It’s set in the late 1920′s, when Birmingham was a boom steel town, the Alabama Theater was just being built by Paramount, and small towns along the railroad owed their life blood to the steel tracks that ran down to Mobile.

Of course I have daddy issues of my own. How else would I have come up with the main thrust of this plot? But in the end, it’s not about the other person, these battles in our soul. It’s what they become in our minds, the power we give to this phantasms, which often have little to do with the frail creatures before us. And Luke’s father is much different from mine.

Ah, jeez. There’s going to have to be some other name for my protag than Luke.

As I was saying, FRED’s father is much different than mine. He will be a scholar, a cruel man, a wraith of knowledge and cynicism now lost in the hell of a disintegrating mind. In that way, he will be much more myself than my father, as Orson Welles admitted Charles Foster Kane was more himself than William Randolph Hearst. And Fred will be the part of me that longs to be free of all that.

Thus it will be a very personal novel, and very dark. I’m 43. It’s time to face facts. I’m a dark character. How much different my life would have been if I could have maintained some of that light I seemed to have when young! Well, that’s ground passed over long ago.

My main task will be to convince the audience that it is worth following the adventures of Fred Drayer while accepting his fate at the end. He is my Oedipus, caught by cosmic fate, and yet Oedipus deserved his fate as the Greeks thought of it. He thought to flee fate, and his hubris came from thinking he had, when he actually had only fulfilled it by his very actions. And in the cry of Oedipus, perhaps our catharsis comes by feeling sheltered from the gods’ wrath. Oedipus has suffered so horribly that perhaps the capricious gods will be satisfied and leave the rest of us be. And that very thought is what caused them to reenact these griefs and give voice to that terrible cry: so that the gods would remember and sigh and forget the rest of us another year.

Maybe.

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Ground Zero Has A Mosque Close To It!

To the tune of “Texas Has A Whorehouse In It”:

Ground Zero has a mosque close to it
(Lord, have mercy on our souls)
Ground Zero has a mosque close to it
(Lord, have mercy on our souls)
I’ll expose the facts although it ties me into knots
Please excuse the filthy dark details, and terr’ist plots
(Filthy dark details, and terr’ist plots)
Cheerin’ going on inside it, Muslims have gone wild
I inquired, no one denied it, now I think I’m getting riled
Bowing down to Allah, close to where them buildings fell.
And Obama does not close it down — it starts to smell.
(Does not close it down, it starts to smell)
Black-eyed juiced up freedom-hatin’ fanatical cave dwellers
(Oh no)
Celebratin’ their victory over our God-fearin’ hard-working all-American blonds.
(Oh no)
Not to mention some types, that you never guess would venture near.
Makin’ terror babies loose and wild, just two blocks from here!
And now our own Father Coughlin Sangers.
(Ground Zero has a mosque close to it
I’ll not let this scandal fade
(Ground Zero has a mosque close to it)
Tear it down, that’s our crusade.
I can smell collusion and I’ll fight it to the top.
‘Merka’s desecration going on.
And it must stop.
Stop this desecration
Stop that desecration
‘Merka’s desecration
Stop that descration
Ground Zero has a mosque close to it
Lord, have mercy on our souls.
Ground Zero has a mosque close to it
Lord, have mercy on our souls.
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Proposed: A Bush Doctrine for Racism

It needs a snappier name, though.

Those who harbor racists or incite racism for political gain are themselves racists.

I don’t care how many black friends ya got.

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Monsters

Fallen Soldiers’ Families Denied Cash as Insurers Profit

Lohman, a public health nurse who helps special-needs children, says she had always believed that her son’s life insurance funds were in a bank insured by the FDIC. That money — like $28 billion in 1 million death-benefit accounts managed by insurers — wasn’t actually sitting in a bank.

It was being held in Prudential’s general corporate account, earning investment income for the insurer. Prudential paid survivors like Lohman 1 percent interest in 2008 on their Alliance Accounts, while it earned a 4.8 percent return on its corporate funds, according to regulatory filings.

“I’m shocked,” says Lohman, breaking into tears as she learns how the Alliance Account works. “It’s a betrayal. It saddens me as an American that a company would stoop so low as to make a profit on the death of a soldier. Is there anything lower than that?”

Millions of bereaved Americans have unwittingly been placed in the same position by their insurance companies. The practice of issuing what they call “checkbooks” to survivors, instead of paying them lump sums, extends well beyond the military.

Evil, despicable monsters.

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One Year Off?

Not really. I’ve been working over at AE911Truth.INFO, a site I’m writing to answer the questions of Architects & Engineers for 9/11 Truth. And all of my posts below are from my various Blogger blogs, imported here to the WordPress format.

But I really need to write. So I’ve nabbed my eponymous domain name again and set up a little old Thelonious blog on it. I really really really want to write here. I really do. Really.

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Who Is A Christianist?

A Christianist (as opposed to a Christian) is a self-identified follower of Jesus Christ who focuses on war imagery, intimidation, and the accumulation of political power in the practice of his or her religion. The tactics used to acquire political power can be overtly violent, or it can simply be seeking to establish the Christian religion in the laws or special protection of a country.

They were there in the beginning, according to the New Testament, which tells us of Peter lifting his sword in defense of the betrayed Jesus. They ran riot throughout the fall of the Roman Empire and the ensuing “Dark Ages.” The Enlightenment started to pry their fingers from the throats of humanity, but they are hard at work to claim any lost territory back. America and the First Amendment has given them fits again and again, but still they battle on under the banner of the one who told Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world.”

The Phelps family is a particularly odious example of Christianists to a point. The Phelps have never shown any other violent tendencies toward people outside their church, however, but to paint graphic pictures of the long list of God’s enemies in hell and to disrupt funerals and the like. If full-blown Christianists could be content with God’s wrath the way the Phelps evidently are, all they could ever manage was to be nuisances. The Phelps brand of Christianists are content to let God strike any physical blows against a wayward world. Their only act is to show up and cheerlead for their malevolent toad of a deity. But most Christianists go much further under the thrall of their hate.

The Christianist impulse can be seen in other religions, of course. The 9/11 hijackers are examples of the same stripe of fundamentalist miscreant in Islam. Gandhi stood in the gap between Muslim and Hindu violence in India. So no one should think this deadly, dangerous strain of religion is exclusive to Christianity.

But neither is Christianity exempt from it. And as the melting pot of American society brings more exposure to differences among cultures, the inherent weakness of fundamentalism will only inspire the desire to enshrine an obsolete faith into the laws and public education of this country. This must be resisted, not only for the sake of America, but for the sake of these misguided followers of Christ as well. Martin Luther King stood up nonviolently to free not only the children of his own race from the iron grip of racism, but also the children of those who trained the fire hoses and dogs onto his demonstrators.

These, then, are the types of people and organizations I mean when I use the term Christianist.

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Exegesis of a Facebook Status War

Note: the following is a note from my Facebook page. I’m reproducing it here just in case Facebook decides to take it down or whatnot.

And now (8/10/09) I’m removing the name (even though the idiot was happy to use his own name when posting this trash) because it’s showing up on the first page of a Google search of his name plus his town, and there’s no point in hurting his business. And maybe the nimrod will move on. ***sigh***

Some of you may be wondering about the flamewar that just happened on my most recent Facebook status. I thought all of you deserved an explanation for it.

So here I was, minding my own business. Most of the time I’m on my Twitter account, @boloboffin, where it’s been a great night watching C-Span, doing this and that. Michelle Bachmann was on the House floor after the Obama press conference, and she’s always good for a laugh. So nice night, overall.

And @Atrios, the blogger behind Eschaton, tweets that he’s never been arrested trying to enter his house. He’s referring, of course, to the Harvard professor who forgot his key in Cambridge, managed to get into his house, and then got arrested by the cops.

I realize I can’t quite tweet that, because I’ve never owned a house to call mine. I’ve always rented, but I am NOTORIOUS for leaving my keys behind. And in my many attempts to enter my residence or my car, I have never, ever suffered the same fate as Henry Louis Gates.

And I am apt to get mouthy.

So I tweet this message:

Joseph Nobles has never owned a house to be arrested trying to enter
23 minutes ago · Comment · LikeUnlike · via Selective Twitter · follow @boloboffin

And as you can see, I also used the Selective Twitter application here at Facebook to update my Facebook status as well. I don’t usually do that, because I resist displaying my political side here. And for those of you saying, “He’s resisting? Dude’s always being political!”, well, yes, I truly am holding back. I kid you not.

Well, five minutes later, the following pops up as a comment.

Alex Jones
I have found that giving cops lip transcends all racial and gender barriers.
18 minutes ago · Delete

Now I don’t know Alex Jones (fake name) from Adam. He’s a friend of a friend, and we were commenting together on that friend’s page, and we Friended through Facebook for whatever reason and life progressed.

And I realize that my status has popped up on his feed. That’s out of my control, I guess. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a status of his pop up on mine, though. I don’t know how that algorithm works here at Facebook – it’s a mystery to me how some will pop up and some won’t. People I’m actually interested in here about skate on by at times. Ah, well.

And I suppose that what I’ve written might be confusing. Perhaps this person doesn’t realize that my opinions are quite, quite liberal and that I support Mr. Gates completely in this matter.

And, like I say, I try to keep my politics out of people’s faces here. If people want it, well, I’m happy to provide it – like I say, I Twitter and have even been known to blog at Bolo Boffin. And then if I do post at somebody’s Facebook page, it’s going to be family who have to put up with me even if I hack them off.

Because the way I figure it, Facebook is an unusual creature, but people should understand that your profile is your space. You don’t go onto someone’s space and hack them off intentionally. I am reminded of a friend of mine here in Dallas who I teased about a recent tattoo he’d added. Personally I like tattoos (thought I don’t have one) and I like this guy a lot. But he took it wrong, deleted the comments, and let me know really quick that he didn’t appreciate it, whereupon I hastened to apologize and let him know my true feelings on the subject. And he was right to do what he did. I was insulting him in his space as he saw it. We got that straightened out because I understood why he felt the way he did.

So I thought, “I’ll make it clear which side of the issue I come down on. Alex will certainly see that he’s being invasive. And we’ll see what happens from there.”

Joseph Nobles
I’ve found that showing cops my ID w/ correct address generally establishes my right to be in my domicile
13 minutes ago · Delete

Alex Jones
It’s just when you show them your id while yelling…Is it because I’m a white man? Who are you? Get the hell out of my house…the white man has had it with the rousting…what is your name? I will own you…you whitey hater.
11 minutes ago · Delete

Mr. Jones’ description of the events surrounding Prof. Gates’ arrest are factually inaccurate. Gates did give the officer a little lip, but then did show his ID with correct address. At this point it is clear to the officer that Prof. Gates is in his house, that there was no breaking and entering.

And Gates began to ask for his name and badge number.

Which the officer refused to provide. And Gates followed the officer as he left the house. He found the officer outside with other police officers, and demanded the man’s badge number and name again.

And THAT is when he was arrested for being disorderly.

If he had been white, people like Alex Jones would have been outraged. Gates was in HIS house. Gates was asking a police officer for his name and badge number, something to which he was entitled.

But fine outstanding white Southern gentlemen from Birmingham, Alabama like Alex Jones see things a little differently when African-American men get mouthy. That will never do.

And as you can see, Alex clearly doesn’t care that he’s soiling my wall with his filth.

Joseph Nobles
I fucking dare you to produce a link with that transcript. The man was in his house, you ignorant cracker.
9 minutes ago · Delete

Alex Jones
Well, I might have resorted to some hyperbole :-)
8 minutes ago · Delete

Alex Jones
And yes, I did see him on Black in America 2 and he did establish that there was some exchange.
7 minutes ago · Delete

To tell the truth, that surprised me at the time. I didn’t think, “Alex’s a happy troll: he’s gotten his reaction and he’s bathing in it.” I thought, “Oh, wait, maybe my anger’s misplaced. Maybe he’ll turn out to be reasonable and we’ll get this straightened out.” Because, after all, there was an exchange. Perhaps Alex will check into this, see that his take was a little off, apologize to me, I’ll apologize to him, and we’ll both be the better for it.

So I tried to figure out the next thing to say, and as I did, I began to figure out how I knew Alex Jones (I didn’t), who he was (some director in Birmingham), who was our connection (a dear sweet friend, oh, I apologize to you for this, please don’t get caught in the middle), etc. And finding out he had no idea who I was cinched it for me. Alex Jones was an idiot troll. I was right the first time.

So getting back to my profile, I find this:

Alex Jones
http://www.theroot.com/blogs/police/losing-your-cool-america

That may be true, but Gates broke two cardinal rules for success while Black in America (something Soledad O’Brien may not have time to cover in this month’s CNN special). Rule Number One: Don’t get angry. Rule Number Two: Don’t get angry when police are present. Case in point: The BOSTON GLOBE reported that the “normally-mild-mannered professor” become irate when, according to the police report, an officer suggested he come outside of his home to discuss the dispute. “Ya, I’ll speak with your mama outside,” Gates allegedly said. When police asked for identification, the report says the professor became visibly upset and asked, “Why, because I’m a black man in America?”
4 minutes ago · Delete

Alex Jones
Point, Set, Match
3 minutes ago · Delete

I had asked rather rudely for Mr. Jones to provide a transcript showing his version of events to be basically correct. This is what he linked to.

Feel free to read it. I recommend the link highly. But as you can see, it does not confirm his version of events at all. In fact, Mr. Jones’ link to this is quite cynically done. You see, The Root is an African-American webpage explaining exactly why Gates was arrested: he lost his cool, something African-Americans are not allowed to do with police officers, not even if they are just home from a long trip, feeling sick, and having to deal with a lost key. Henry Louis Gates lost his cool, and, bam, the handcuffs went on. The article is bitterly deriding the reasons for the arrest.

But Mr. Jones linked to this article because he exults in this bitterness. He’s happy to know that the unspoken rules are still in place for African-Americans in America. Even with Barack Obama in the White House – no, especially because of Barack Obama, it is good for fine upstanding white Southern gentlemen from Birmingham, Alabama to discover that an African-American Harvard professor can still be arrested for getting angry with a police officer who refused to give his name and badge number, that this “uppity” black man can be arrested on the porch of his own house for such an offense.

Joseph Nobles
Oh, so you’re a fucking LYING ignorant cracker. Welcome to my Block list, asshole.
2 minutes ago · Delete

And he’s the only person on my Block list. Perhaps this note will net me a few more. That’s fine. People more in sympathy with Mr. Jones’ demonic frolicking can block me as well. Good riddance to them.

And… soapbox dismount.

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