Selling Freedom

Whenever a little doubt enters my mind about what I'm doing in life, my direction, somebody says something that brings me back to my path.

Bill Cosby was just on David Letterman's show. Cosby talked about his mother, now deceased, who, even at the height of his career, kept telling him "Get out now!" She was talking about his decision to be an actor. In her will, she left her son $48,000 so he'll have "something to fall back on." Bill Cosby then continued to tell Dave not to worry about his son Harry, that Harry will be all right even if Dave, one day, dies. Cosby promised Dave that, if he dies, Cosby and a few of his friends, including Denzel Washington, will look after Harry.

Then Cosby quoted Phil Woods, saying "Death is the last thing on my mind."

For some reason, what Bill Cosby said made me feel good. Bill Cosby, who I'd always thought was conservative because his comedy never included profanity, said something unconservative. He talked about living. He talked about not being afraid. He talked about not worrying about "something to fall back on."

I would like to think that I live in fear sometimes, because fear keeps me away from harm, or so I've heard.

But doubt, DOUBT, is something else. If given a choice, I think I'd rather have fear in my heart, than doubt. Doubt is the gray area between stop and go, between here and there. Doubt is the permanent hesitation before a jump. I'd rather go back inside the plane, tell everyone I'm afraid, get back to land, and try something else. At least I fessed up to it. At least I'm not stuck almost jumping.

Bill Cosby is a good salesman. He's made a good living at it, selling a sitcom, pudding, jazz festivals. Tonight he sold me a couple of commercials and a little bit of freedom.

Costly Interruptions

“The major problem of life is learning how to handle the costly interruptions. The door that slams shut, the plan that got sidetracked, the marriage that failed, or that lovely poem that didn’t get written because someone knocked on the door”.
--Martin Luther King, Jr.


I wake up every morning knowing exactly what I need to do for that day. I go to bed every night knowing exactly what I'd forgotten to do for that day. Somewhere in between, I got greedy, arrogant, lazy, or all of the above and more.

I always seem to think that today's 24-hour day will have more time than yesterday's 24-hour day. That by doing one activity faster (more efficient), I can add an extra activity to my agenda.

I answer the phone thinking that the person on the other end of the line will offer something of value greater than what I was doing at that moment.

I do research to confirm what I already know in my heart to be true.

I spend time angry, hateful, fearful, resentful, boastful, suspicious, paranoid, overanalyzing, distrusting, overpreparing, and in denial.

I spend twice as much time and effort half-admitting to things that I will ultimately fully admit to anyway.

I force my unrested mind to be creative.

I spend time regretting having wasted time instead of resting my mind.

I write down a 1-minute task on a to-do list instead of just doing it.

I choose to take the time to allow myself to be offended by strangers.

Instead of listening to my instincts, I look at the clock.

Instead of listening to my instincts, I surf the Web.

I buy products that will take up more space in my life.


I now realize that every time I want to write that lovely poem, someone will inevitably knock on the door. But then again, I put the door there. I put myself on the other side of the door. I told everyone where to find me. I bought the welcome mat. I installed the door knocker. I added a doorbell.

I Hunt the Android in Me

The Director's Cut of Blade Runner DVD came out last month, and I bought a copy recently. One of the documentaries in the DVD discusses the difference between Ridley Scott's definition versus Philip K. Dick's definition of an android/replicant. Ridley Scott, the director of the movie, defined his androids as stronger, faster, more intelligent, and in almost every way more superior than human beings, with their only weakness being a four-year life span. Philip K. Dick, in his book Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, defines his androids as robotic, inhuman automatons, carrying on with their lives according to orders, not caring for others, not caring for other androids, not caring for animals.

After doing some research online for more about this, I ran into this page:

goliath.ecnext.com/coms2/gi_0199-6731189/
Speciesism-and-species-being-in.html

And this snippet:

... the risk faced by Deckard and other humans in the novel lies in realizing that they already are android-like, so long as they define their subjectivity based on the logical, rational, calculating part of human being.

There is an android in me that wants to wake up to an alarm clock even though it may not have gotten enough sleep.

The android wants to make a yearly salary that is commensurate to a lifestyle prescribed by GQ Magazine and above the median income of white collar technology workers in my zip code.

The android wants to win a significant award and be mentioned in a prominent trade publication at least once a year.

It wants to drive a new car every three years.

It wants to acquire a wife who will be accepted into the social circle of above-the-median-income white collar technology workers in my zip code.

It wants to memorize the names of ten popular mixed drinks and include ten of the most popular catch phrases into its daily conversation.

It wants to experience recreational drugs and at least three exotic sexual positions so that it will not be excluded in any conversation.

It wants to work more hours than anybody else as a badge of honor.

It wants to escape from work.

It wants to be able to choose a winning sports team.

It wants to bet one thousand dollars during a weekend no-limit poker game.

It wants to engorge itself with food.

It wants to go on a diet.

It wants to understand expensive art.

It wants to follow rules.

It wants to be recognized for following rules.

It wants to cheat so it will not be excluded during conversations.


Every day I try to hunt it down and kill it. Every day I fail.

Freedoms: Responsibility Without Burden

Burden happens not when one carries a load, but when that load becomes undesirable. The load doesn't necessarily change, but the perception of its weight, importance, and meaning, does.

Maybe desire has something to do with it. If one doesn't desire carrying a load in the first place, it never has a chance of becoming a burden. If one doesn't have expectations on the results, or seeks a certain reward from carrying the load, then any outcome will be acceptable. There is freedom in this.

But without expectations, why even carry a load? Why be responsible?

My first answer would be, "Each expectation is a load in itself. Why carry two loads?"

My second answer would be, "Being able to make a true choice is freedom. Responsibility is simply the resulting action of an original choice. Being able to carry the load until the choice is fulfilled, without doubting that choice and changing one's perception of the load being carried, without being burdened with the choice, that is freedom."

Responsibility that leads to burden is the doubting of the original choice.

Responsibility that does not lead to burden is the celebration of the original choice.