on parent-child equality

When I was 22 I got pregnant. Amazingly enough I already had an MSc, had had a number of lovers, had partied hard, had studied hard and was in stable loving relationship with a guy 2 years older who was delighted to have a kid. Sadly no one thought it was possible, which caused it to become impossible, so after ridiculous pressures and obscene points of views from family members and friends we succumbed to spite and ridiculousness and broke up.

Everyone who saw me playing with a toddler thought I was a babysitter or an older sister. When I told them I was the mum, people would pat me, or grow silent, or console me. I looked really young (and angry when faced with condescending assholes). When my fellow co-parent (boyfriend at the time) told them he was the dad, people broke in smiles or laughter or excitement. He also looked really young and scandinavian. I guess the involved dad is an unprecedented joy for humanity at any age but a mum is simply doing her duty.

Initially people assumed I was not ready or mature enough and would mess it up. When I didn’t, everyone assumed I had screwed up my life and was completely fucked over by the mother role. When I told them to go fuck themselves they got pretty defensive and looked at me as though I had caused a crack in the time-space continuum and I knew I had. I gradually came to realise that parenting was not about intimacy and having fun with people you’ve created or the nihilistic idea of existing for passing on your genes, it was about social norms and creating a circle of fellow parents to hang out with and maintain some kind of enjoyable normality.

Bold dudes with big bellies and old chicks who had had IV to get pregnant in their 40s were suddenly giving me advice. We always had to explain that we’re both biologists and actually consider it a good idea to have kids at the age we did and that the kid was not entirely planned, but not an accident either. We had to explain ourselves constantly until the freaking point where everyone knew and appreciated that we weren’t lying or more realistically to the point where we didn’t look that young anymore – up to the point when we had internalised prejudice and woke up to find we didn’t really mess up at all, in fact we did pretty ok considering.

And even though that prejudice absolutely wrecked us as a couple, we never blamed it on anyone. We just told everyone to go fuck themselves and carried on to find ourselves 12 years later smiling warmly at our past, wishing some things had never happened, but also appreciating every precious moment of wear and tear.

Funnily enough until this day and considering my age people presume my entire existence is defined by motherhood, even though a million things have happened to me, which were completely unrelated. It just seems too nihilistic to have a kid or pass time with it – there’s no point or clear benefit. In fact for a young intelligent person, having loads of success and partying ahead of them, it just seems like a huge mistake to miss out on all the additional fun – it never occurs to anyone you might want to try something else. It never even crosses anyone’s mind that you might be a dadaist, who might relish the joy of having a small ridiculous person around, or even that there might be two of you and that unless you’re dysfunctional, all that is wrong with you is that you’re too weird. I would even extend my obscene claims, by saying that you can party whilst being a parent or even with your kid, cause they sometimes like music and dancing.

Everyone in the christian western paradigm assumes that parenthood is about altruism and reaching the peak of your conservative streak and everyone assumes that you always have to put your kid first. That is utter pretentious bullshit. In fact according to modern psychology and moreover common evolutionary sense, you should make an effort to refrain from putting your kid first all of the time and make a case out of also putting yourself first when it’s important. It’s a bit like any other human relationship, only that humans no longer have human unsolicited relationships.

A friend I love a lot is struggling with addiction at the moment and I was chatting to his mum. She asked me “what would you do?” and without thinking I answered “oh my god, if I was his mum I would go crazy, I would do anything and everything, I would kill myself thinking of a very elaborate solution, I would tie him up, I don’t know what I’d do… it would probably depend on what I’d done up to that point”. That’s the whole point of any intimate relationship, being a piece of avant-garde art every fucken day – stretching your mind to its creative limits, not having a group of manic compulsive psychoanalysts telling you what to do (you could gain some perspective, but no real meaningful advice on how to be you). By the point your kids are in trouble, you should have shown yourself to them and given them an opportunity to grow with you, so they don’t get shocked when they actually have to give birth to you, a mature conservative grown-up, who had been in a kind of emotional infantry throughout their upbringing.

Stand up comedy

The best thing about initiating relationships with the wrong people is the tremendous sense of nihilistic fulfillment you get when you end them

It is also the point at which you realise that you are the only spectator in a stand up comedy show by you

Hahaha funny

A false sense of entitlement

Kids get mad sometimes because they think that they are entitled to things they’re not.

Kids become adults and if they still feel they are entitled to things they’re not, they can get angry and sometimes dangerous.

Kids want candy and toys and more time playing computer games.

Grown ups want drugs and sexual fulfillment and more time stalking people on facebook.

Today’s young adults were 90s kids, they or their parents had no idea what was going to come down.

Now these adults feel they’re entitled to all those things they were told they were getting.

More money, more time, a better life and more stuff are just unreachable.

One has to work really hard for a decent life.

Adult kids are angry and hungry and depressed.

They have tantrums and anxiety and no one knows what to do with them.

It’s too late.

They have to be told now that everything they were told was wrong, a miscalculation.

Humanity owes them, but she doesn’t really give a shit, she has too many problems of her own.

The kids keep fucking up, no one likes them anymore and they don’t even like themselves.

They want to be left alone, but they also want to be nice.

Part of the deal is having to discipline your desires for the sake of the collective, of some- any collective – for school.

They’re depressed – they hate school – they don’t need it.

It’s no fun belonging to a miserable collective where one has to work this hard to counterbalance the shit the economy has dumped on us.

They grab anything they can.

They grabbed my ass one day and I got angry.

They don’t know what they did wrong – they were entitled to that ass – it was an ass with no face.

The kids look in the mirror and realise they’re adults, they have a face, distorted but a face nontheless.

The pain is profound and they’re seriously considering suicide.

The mum is gone – talk to the ass.

They talk to the ass – they feel special.

The ass shits on them – they feel shit.

A group of monkeys approaches – they are also angry.

The kids raise their fists.

It’s world war III and the monkeys are well-armed with stupidity.

Now it’s time to grow up, it’s time for change, it’s time for the collective, it’s time to shine!

But who’s going to stand up and lead them?

Vincent Gallo looks promising… haha ha

Heart to heart – mind to mind – we are the ones that travel through time

I have been reading and trying to understand what the current driving forces in world politics are. I have tried to pinpoint the underlying predicaments behind breitbart propaganda. My main reason for doing this is on one hand that I am concerned about the future, not mine of course, but my offspring’s and on the other that I find this alt-right movement very relevant to everyday people’s view on life. There seems to be a relatedness between the controversy behind Milo Yannopoulos’ self-loathing drag alter ego and any art or dadaism I am exposed to.

My friends, especially those concerned with art or work, anyone below 35, are insisting on dismissing any political influence at the moment. People are either terrified or refusing to be terrified by the inexplicable cloud of hate-speech and racism hovering over the world. However, it seems to me, that they are profoundly affected by a political agenda of self-sarcasm and dadaism. People such as Milo Yannopoulos are openly converting Freudian childhood trauma to politics. Psychoanalysis has failed in deconstructing humans, emancipation for a greater good insults one’s intelligence. Surely a human is empowered by her own lack of discipline to evolution and simultaneously the bet they are proposing is one of challenging exactly that evolution.

These people are neither idiots nor balanced. They don’t believe anyone is balanced and in that they might not be that far off. People like Bannon declare loyality to classical american literature and Malthus. Lets not kid ourselves, they are fully aware of the detrimental effects overpopulation has on the continuation of life, as well as the doubtful importance life has on the universe. Carbon emissions and mass extinctions mean nothing on geologic time scales, in fact the planet has been pretty much asking us to ‘bring it on’.

However, politics is always about choice and there is choice from the highest levels of governance to the grassroots of society. They are essentially choosing what to focus on and what to overlook. What is scary is not the almost convulsive line of thought behind the propaganda of breibart, but the choice to abolish anything that makes this life or world tolerable to human nature. Things such as cooperation, acceptance, second-chances, investment in children, science, education, stray animals, the beauty, randomness and complexity of nature, are basically overlooked and that is a choice, clearly aiming at stretching human consciousness to its limits. What is scary is that they are in fact challenging evolution in good self-sarcastic humour. Societies all over the world are actually following this movement of a dark macabre kitsch aesthetic. It requires people with a very solid cultural and scientific background to be able to sail against the current and as education is target number one, those people may gradually lack in resonance.

Yet as hopeless as our race has clearly proven to be at the moment and as predetermined as our fate may seem at times, in species terms, the choice remains and as with every ethical utopia, the aim is not to reach god, but to reach a collective sense of purpose. As Steinbeck puts it in his book “The pearl”, once more, it is a matter of man pretending to be god and woman accepting that she needs a god, although this god may destroy her and everything she loves. It is simply a matter of the woman in all of us being self-assured enough to make a choice to accept that “she needs this god and madman in her life” but has got to trust in her ability to tame his ambitious nihilism. Testosterone production is really too much of an investment without any prospect of reproduction in biological and emotional terms, whilst estrogen may prove more powerful that nuclear weapons once again.

Nazism was nonsense very similar to the nonsense Trump is proclaiming. So why does humanity have such affinity for nonsense? Did she really need the mad god in her life or was she tied to him by nothing more than sexist patterns? Is the world governed by a bunch of kids whose mothers were simply too forgiving with too little self-respect and a distorted sense of self-worth? Will Scandinavia ever speak up? Will Melania and Zizek finally get it on?

References

http://tvxs.gr/news/kosmos/otan-o-sotiras-milo-giannopoylos-egrafe-pos-stin-ellada-aksizei-mono-i-litotita

http://www.spiegel.de/international/world/trump-and-bannon-pursue-a-vision-of-american-autocracy-a-1133313.html

https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2017/03/how-to-build-an-autocracy/513872/?ct=t(01_a8inea_Newsletter12_17_2013)

http://www.breitbart.com/

Pinewood derby (Southpark)

The performance was terrible!

I went to the performance

it was terrible

I was constantly concerned they were going to hurt themselves

clearly this was childish

but then again the other side of the coin was motherly

goddammed!

manipulative performers!

grow up! this behaviour is unacceptable!

I will punish you with deconstruction

since I am very much against violence

I would suggest you coordinate things in a more civilised manner on your next performance

I will of course love you no matter what

my love will not be overshadowed by dada

however, I would enjoy a more sophisticated approach to maturity

I will be at the next performance and I shall watch it solemnly

finally please accept my sincerest wishes for a prosperous creative future

…idiots!

my friend fish

I found a transparent fish

transparency was its main survival mechanism

it was a fish of constant sorrow

r-selective parents are hardly ever there but in a herd-type affair

a mother claimed the little fish one day and even if she really was the mother, she couldn’t do very much, it wasn’t in her nature to care for anyone else

he got high from the sewage pouring out drugs and shit into the ocean

his neurons were like naked wires

I said, come on lets go, lets follow the current to the ocean

but the fish looked at me sadly, he couldn’t go far

the place he was given on this earth was a place he couldn’t escape from

it had become him

but still what an interesting pretty little fish he was

reading any scrap of paper he could get his fins on, quoting poetry and philosophy, pacing up and down some dark corner of the harbour

he knew so much from the funny mutants and aliens hovering around

he was such a street-smart little fish

but one day he said “I’m sorry, I can’t do it anymore”

I cared so much for the fish I couldn’t let him give up

he was so clever and even when he was trying to trick me to get something out of me, like a coin or something precious I had got my tentacles around, I still loved him

but those neurons were so damaged they kept sending wrong electrical signals

time and patience could have them fixed, he was only a juvenile fish, but he was restless and weary

I finally said, a very wise man said “life is pleasant, death is peaceful, it’s the transition that’s troublesome”

so please don’t suffer anymore, forget you’re alive, forget you might be dead, just trust me, everything will be ok

leave everything that ever hurt you behind, our lives don’t have to be Freud’s fantacy

lets swim

but the fish said “that’s exactly what I’ve been doing all along”

right… I thought, but you know another wise man said “The happiness of the bee and the dolphin is to exist. For man it is to know that and to wonder at it”

“but you don’t get it” he insisted “I am the bee and the dolphin and the man”

so I let him be, as I should, as I knew that truth would always be stranger than fiction

home

It’s like we had created our own lawless diy dimension in this inhuman world

you, your mum and I

and you slept safely in a room with clean sheets, a tv and a reading lamp

and I felt like my family was safe

because a family is safe when everybody feels like they belong

even though they might rather be elsewhere

those are just sweet dreams we dream under warm duvets

damaged bodies not ever able to see or feel themselves

damaged souls playing an endless part in bad plays

but in here

there is enough love to suffocate a puppy

there is enough abstract thinking to make a national contemporary art museum

there are enough natural laws to write a science book

but no one will

not tonight

Cat city

I sat quietly, sadly, regretfully

nothing had come down yet, but I knew it was coming

I knew from their drooling mouths, the blood was going to flow

hidden internal wounds would bleed

and a fool, like you, would never listen and wouldn’t know they were dying until all the blood had been drained

They’re thirsty for blood! I screamed

“Freedom” is all about allowing society to infiltrate intimacy!

but you still wouldn’t listen

I guess it’s something about the urban ecosystem

I mean it’s full of spiteful territorial cats without territories

they are manipulative pests with an army of toxoplasmosis-infected spinster zombies protecting them

imagine a city with giant pandas roaming around

or even wild bears filling people with fear and respect for life

wouldn’t it be different?

but we have to have cats, we just had to be surrounded by them

well, clearly there would be a social need for a malicious sneaky type of violence, clearly sadomazochism would conquer all that is good, honest and affectionate

I always keep a dog by my side to neutralise the evil of cats

he’s a very accepting dog

he even accepts cats, as he is aware, it was not their fault that they were transformed into spiteful pests filling our hearts with envy and spite

And as cats eat the last hope from their disintegrating souls, may they open their eyes to something more than a zombified spinsterhood and be satisfied at what they destroyed

Maybe even be reminescent for just a brief moment for what is being digested and turned into shit

Transient-class prose

vladimir-mayakovsky-1924-rodchenko-1372292421_org

I was never in for the love story

that’s why it all feels so numbingly confusing in the aftermath

I’m soft and fall in love too easily

I was in for the civil society integration work, for the friendship, for the creativity, for my political beliefs, for our common interest in literature, for his future gratitude

He came from a canny ethnicity and remaining true to his heritage

I come from a middle class family, which has rejected anything shrewd  a few generations now

He grew up with stories of  domestic-violence, migration and survival

I grew up with stories of my right-winged well-off ancestors courageously helping out their communist friends during the civil war

He tried to teach me the intricate ways of being street-wise, I tried to teach him the luxurious ways of being humane

Class-divide

But now that we have returned to the worlds where we come from, with sociopolitical turmoil beneath our feet, can we claim that we are in complete loss, that all we learned was our inability to adapt?

Is everything that tore us apart stronger than the things that brought us together?

Are the grapes of wrath merely a monument?

Will he ever be able to think beyond egotistically pleasing himself in a counter-argument against epigenetic hardship?

Could he really prove my suspicious from early-on and yet gracious and supportive middle-class friends wrong?

Does he realise that unless he accepts the political causes for all the bullying he was subjected to and convey them into something meaningful and honest, he will never escape?

Will I ever escape my self-defeating nihilist narrative?

So the last will be first and the first will be last