THE CASE FOR TRUTH BEING STRANGER THAN FICTION. EXHIBIT D: The Only Bona Fide Miracle I've Experienced in My Life as of 5/14/06 (Unfinished)
As years go, 2004 was one of the most painful I've ever experienced.
As a genius, it's very rare that I give any task more than around 65% of effort/energy/attention. Why? Well
1) most things don't seem interesting enough to elicit more than that
2) mastering most tasks comes to me with ease and I can get away with it
3) I'm intellectualy very selfish. My interests are my interests and having some what of an addictive personality. I like to devote my time and energy fully to subjects that I, Allan R Smith, deem interesting. This quality predisposes me to certain run-ins with authority, as one can imagine
4) As is somewhat typical with the intellectually gifted, I hate the feeling that comes with being wrong. ESPECIALLY, in a public fashion and operating at less than half my potential provides a certain hedge to my self image if I do fuck up.
Well, in 2004 I took on 2 projects that promised to deliver the Brass Ring. For the 1st time in my life, I saw my own personal Holy Graile: Complete Autonmy.
Let me explain. The currency with which all knowledge is purchased with is time. Reading, experimenting, working and reworking ideas, fleshing them out, refining them, applying them requires the expense of an irreplaceble commodity: time. The thing about our modern labor economy that I've always hated is that it requires me to rent MY precious time in exchange for money to buy the resources I needed to live. Time I could be spent loving the one thing that's always perfectly loved me back, I have to (seemingly) spend earning money so I can do such banal tasks as paying for lights, cars, clothes, space all to live a life that sustains me only to earn enough money to pay for such banal tasks as paying for lights, cars, clothes, space all to live a life that sustains me only to earn enough money to pay for such banal tasks as paying for lights, cars, clothes, space all to live a life that sustains me only to earn enough money to .... well you get the picture.
Now, making money has never been something that's been terribly of interest me. I didn't grow up with a lot of it and as child the 3 things that mattered to me feeding my curiosity, the joy of friendship & laughing until I cried had no apparent monetary value. Money was for buying things (comic books, video games etc...). And while things were fun after a while you got bored with them. I also had the privilage(?) of going to one of the nation's oldest and most prestigious boarding schools (read: being around some of the nations oldest and most prestigious money). Being around children who any material object at their beck and call, it didn't take long to see that there is no correlation between having things and having happiness.
As a genius, it's very rare that I give any task more than around 65% of effort/energy/attention. Why? Well
1) most things don't seem interesting enough to elicit more than that
2) mastering most tasks comes to me with ease and I can get away with it
3) I'm intellectualy very selfish. My interests are my interests and having some what of an addictive personality. I like to devote my time and energy fully to subjects that I, Allan R Smith, deem interesting. This quality predisposes me to certain run-ins with authority, as one can imagine
4) As is somewhat typical with the intellectually gifted, I hate the feeling that comes with being wrong. ESPECIALLY, in a public fashion and operating at less than half my potential provides a certain hedge to my self image if I do fuck up.
Well, in 2004 I took on 2 projects that promised to deliver the Brass Ring. For the 1st time in my life, I saw my own personal Holy Graile: Complete Autonmy.
Let me explain. The currency with which all knowledge is purchased with is time. Reading, experimenting, working and reworking ideas, fleshing them out, refining them, applying them requires the expense of an irreplaceble commodity: time. The thing about our modern labor economy that I've always hated is that it requires me to rent MY precious time in exchange for money to buy the resources I needed to live. Time I could be spent loving the one thing that's always perfectly loved me back, I have to (seemingly) spend earning money so I can do such banal tasks as paying for lights, cars, clothes, space all to live a life that sustains me only to earn enough money to pay for such banal tasks as paying for lights, cars, clothes, space all to live a life that sustains me only to earn enough money to pay for such banal tasks as paying for lights, cars, clothes, space all to live a life that sustains me only to earn enough money to .... well you get the picture.
Now, making money has never been something that's been terribly of interest me. I didn't grow up with a lot of it and as child the 3 things that mattered to me feeding my curiosity, the joy of friendship & laughing until I cried had no apparent monetary value. Money was for buying things (comic books, video games etc...). And while things were fun after a while you got bored with them. I also had the privilage(?) of going to one of the nation's oldest and most prestigious boarding schools (read: being around some of the nations oldest and most prestigious money). Being around children who any material object at their beck and call, it didn't take long to see that there is no correlation between having things and having happiness.
posted by heathen saint at 6:17 PM
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