
           TCAHR - Better Living Through Memetics

Volume 02, Issue 05
TCAHR Reloads                                       12/26/01
------------------------------------------------------------
I realize this issue is late.  I've been thinking about the
fate of TCAHR's writing style.  Volume 01 of TCAHR was
dangerous and funny, volume 02 is not.  Volume 02 is
cafefully constructed PC-ness.  It's time to return to old
ways, but in new forms.  Isn't the approach of the new year
a perfect time?  New resolutions and all that rubbish.

The following passages were written in August.  Designed
after Nietzsche's burst of philosophy style, this very well
may become TCAHR's new style.  I warn you.  Some of it
isn't the nicest things I've ever written, but I've never
pretended to be nice.  Tell me what you think.  Enjoy.

Jet Jaguar
TCAHR CEO
          ----------------------------------------
                  My Big, Primitive Hammer
                          08-05-01

When I was a teenager, I came up with what I believed to be
brilliant theories on humanity.  The more I read, the more I
realized that all my ideas had been discussed by as many as
1000 years ago by little-remembered intellectuals.  In my
younger days I was disappointed at this, believing myself to
be the possessor of an unoriginal mind.  I was a fool who
couldn't realize how wonderful such intelligence was.

Think of the hammer.  The raw materials that would become the
hammer were abundant.  All that was needed was an animal with
the biological ability, need, and intelligence to fashion
stone, wood, and vine into a hammer.  We must remember that
there were two species of humans on this planet.  Those who
adapted by building tools and ideas with the materials at
hand were the ancestors of those reading this now.  Those
who didn't adapt are nothing more than museum curiosities.
That primitive hammer gave rise to thousands of tools and
weapons; objects also have their evolutions.

The data and experiences which fashion philosophies are out
there in the datasphere.  Dali had his hammers, Lao-Tzu had
his hammers, and I have my own hammers.  My fledging
philosophies may have been primitive, but the ideas of people
such as Blackmore, Kafka, and Nietzsche have not made my own
ideas useless.  Studying them has only helped in the evolution
of my own theories.  They are still my hammers and I am going
to keep using them.

          ----------------------------------------
               V is for Violence and Victory
                          08-05-01

There are a few cute quotes making their way through
humanity on the uselessness of violence.
Pseudo-intellectuals toss about these sayings which demean
the intellect of those who use violence.  What else do you
expect from a collective group which tends towards
cowardice and weakness?

Shunning violence simply because it is violence is not
worthy of the intelligent mind.  A person who aims to be
intelligent does not toss out effective and proven data
because he or she finds that data morally repugnant.  Our
subjective sense of morality has hindered the spread of
knowledge enough times.  In this age where our knowledge
of AIDS, overpopulation, and teenage pregnancy leads us to
the logical conclusion of birth control, the caretakers of
our "morality" such as the Catholic church make millions of
their followers equate condoms with sin.

Instead of a blanket philosophy of morality, every act of
violence needs to be defined by context.  The honest
dedicated police officer drawing a salary to protect you is
a student of the law and of violence.  To believe him or her
to be morally repugnant doesn't seem to matter when its your
life or property is in danger.

To put all this theorizing into a short and personal truth:
you can't talk your way out of an incoming fist to your
mouth.  Sometimes you simply have to fight.

          ----------------------------------------
             The Machine That Equalized America
                          08-06-01

Simply because I advocate violence over pacifism doesn't mean
I support all contexts that violence is a part of.  Some
humans are invariably stronger than others and use that
strength to force their opinions and deed upon the physically
weaker.  This meant that centuries ago a trained fighter such
as a knight could bully around an untrained peasant.  The
peasant and the knight could both have swords and the knight
would probably cut that poor serf down.

Luckily, this is the 21th century and I'm living in the
United States.  I have the right to own a gun.  The gun has
equalized the playing field and if more people exercised
their right to own a handgun, I would sleep easier for three
reasons.

The first is that I am uncomfortable with the idea of the
majority of guns being owned by law enforcement agencies.
The military, FBI, CIA, and police all have guns.  Suppose a
government acted in a way to protect its own financial
interests to the detriment of its citizens.  Now whom do you
suppose law enforcement will back: the will of the people or
the government which pays its salary?

Law enforcement is made of people who have families to feed
and lifestyles to protect.  Thankfully, their natural
instinct for survival cuts both ways.  They protect the
government that feeds them and their families, but as the WTO
riots prove, they're not risking their well-being for no one.
While the police in Seattle and Genoa arrested and brutalized
peaceful protesters, they gave the violent anarchist groups
a much wider berth.  Imagine how much wider that berth would
have been if the anarchists were armed to the teeth.

The second is that I am uncomfortable with the only other
large group in America owning guns being criminals.  Anyone
who knows criminals knows that a criminal is, above all, a
tactician.  A criminal preys on weakness.  They rob, rape,
and murder those who they consider defenseless.  Now if the
majority of the populace were carrying concealed weapons the
element of risk would be too great for crime.  Who wants to
take the chance of meeting the next Richard Specks?

Finally, guns are good for cleaning the gene pool.  No other
machine in the world has been more effective in ridding the 
world of villains and idiots.  Criminals and cops killing 
criminals is one of the most beautiful equations in
creation.  If only we as a society knew better; whenever I
hear about tax dollars being spent to investigate the
crime-related murder of a known criminal, I get pretty damn
upset.

Then there's the idiots.  When I here about stupid adults
who don't lock up their guns and their stupid kids who shoot
themselves by playing with those guns, my faith in Social
Darwinism is renewed.  Some DNA just shouldn't be passed
down to hinder future generations.

          ----------------------------------------
               Kicking the Heads Off Flowers
                          08-06-01

I write about violence because I am interested in the idea
of power.  The common man will never have true power.  True
power comes in having the kind of money that would make your
mother happily hide the identity of your murderer.  Compared
to that, all other forms of power are merely the techniques
of pigs fighting for the best slop.  It is an unappetizing
thought, but I'd rather have these scraps of power than none
at all.  I believe that the recourse of the common person is
in the use of either beauty and violence.

Pretty bimbos croon songs about simplistic love.  The most
ornate churches, synagogues, and mosques are the most
popular.  Books which weave tales of idiotic romance
outsell books of substance.  Bodies are restructured by
abnormal amounts of physical labor and the knives of
surgeons.  Celebrities influence our decisions.  Women are
still programmed to marry according to status by using their
tits.  These same women are shamed into pumping millions
into the make-up and fashion industries.  We now buy
computers by their fucking color schemes!  Our actions
expose us as little more than animals fighting over the
shiny bits in the trash.

So now we have the money elite creating products and
affecting mindsets.  It works; we are more receptive to what
we consider beautiful and bequeath unto them status.  Then we
have idiotic commoners who are "beautiful" attempt petty
tyrannies on everyone else.  If want to observe this power
game, I suggest going to a nightclub; preferably an upscale
one where you can watch how money and beauty intermingle.

That's why I endorse violence to counteract beauty.  My time
in the military taught me that you take out power at its
source.  I invite the vain ones smug in their expensive
clothes to conspire against me.  Because if they catch me at
my most ornery, I am going to bash their faces into pink
mist.

Then I become the pretty one.

          ----------------------------------------
                   Suicide Kings are Wild
                          08-06-01

I will conclude these thoughts on violence with whom I
believe to be the most dangerous people in the world.  Those
who call suicide a selfish and cowardly act do not fully
understand the dynamics of the suicidal person.  That's
okay, because usually neither does the suicidal person.

A suicidal person does not fear the unknown of death.
Someone who attempts suicide is not afraid of his culture's
god; he or she is willing to kill themselves in accordance
or in spite off dogma.  If suicide is a selfish act, then
disregard for family, friends, and reputation is apparent.

Possessing these qualities, the suicidal failure is more
capable of doing anything to better their own life or else
die trying.  Give me an army of such people and I would
enslave the world.

          ----------------------------------------
                    Life is a Mug's Game
                          08-22-01

Every day I become more convinced that there is a difference
between life and survival.  The word "life" tends to have
certain connotations; we expect life to fall into a pattern,
usually a good one.  The connotations of the word "survival"
tend to run towards the negative.

We want life, but we settle for survival.  Those running the
rat races everyday know this.  We work to attract mates,
breed, support our family-based comfort structures, and/or
attempt enjoyment through material objects.  Then the ironic
part kicks in: we have no time for meeting others, enjoy time
with our families/mates, or enjoy our mass-marketed products.
It's the way of our world; there is no use of complaining
about it.

First-World humans work 40-60 hours a week to survive.  They
attempt to live during evenings, weekends, sick days, and two
weeks of vacation time a year.  Unfortunately, one thing stops
them from living during these scant hours and reverts them
back to survival mode: fear.  Personally, I despise the fear
emotion.  I despise it in myself and in everyone else, though
I realize its usefulness.  I like the adrenaline and enhanced
vision, as I am more of a fight than flight kind of guy.  But
I can deal without the crippling effects upon the psyche.

I am a bit phobic about heights, have an aversion to maggots,
and I fear rejection more than anything else in the world.
Eventually, I could get on the roller-coasters.  My cowardice
of maggots was tamed by the fact I am much bigger than they
are.  I still fear rejection, but if I didn't get over that I
would never get laid.  Instead, I rarely get laid; which is
pretty much to par for a single, largely heterosexual male.

I know people who "live" in constant fear of many things and
go to great lengths to avoid them.  I can excuse two or
three great fears.  I can't excuse a craven chicken-shit
with a multitude of phobias.  How does a human afraid of 10+
things such as dolls, bugs, and blood get up in the fuckin'
morning?  Nor can I excuse cowardice that reveals itself in
constant paranoia of other people.  Can you call an
existence full of fear of inanimate objects and the
potential actions of other humans living?  I believe in
being aware of my surroundings and achieving strategic
superiority against my fellow humans, but I function.

I don't fear anyone, I fear things.  Those things I either
learn to accept, respect, or destroy.

          ----------------------------------------
                  The Measure of Kindness           
                          08-22-01

Never measure the amount of a man or woman's kindness by the
act of giving.  Once in an attempt to impress a young lady
whom I wanted to mate with, I waited her out in front of a
restaurant we were both eating at.  There was a beggar
outside the restaurant whom I promptly gave money to seconds
before she walked out.  I turned and saw her their and
feigned embarrassment.  Her estimation of me rose that day.

I've also been known to give beggars larger amounts of money
than they usually received.  I was walking out of a bar and
feeling very smug due to my appearance and the wad of money
in my pockets.  This beggar comes to me and gives me the
got-some-change talk.  I shook his hand and then walked away
smiling.  He came running up to me five minutes later
kissing my ass.  I slipped his twenty dollars during the
handshake.  I couldn't care less how he felt getting the
money.  I did it to show off and feed my arrogant ego.

Knowing the reasons behind gift-giving, I hate being the
receiver of the gift or favor!  When I am given something, I
immediately feel obligated to the other person's act of
"kindness".  I would rather receive nothing at all so that I
could avoid the feelings of obligation; whether in the form
of buying a gift myself or having to feign interest,
appreciation, or civility for the rest of the evening.

That's where the true measure of kindness is:  There is more
liability in the taking than the giving.
------------------------------------------------------------
tcahr@hotmail.com                             Copyright 2001



