Author: Fred Blahnik

Spitefulness leaves a bitter residue in the quintessence of one’s soul.  Forget the ephemeral gratification you may, and probably will, receive as a “reward” for being spiteful.  That feeling swiftly slips away as though it’s riding the crest of a spunky vernal zephyr, never to return.  It’s rapidly replaced by a pervasive sense of guilt, and this ubiquitous guilt will gnaw away relentlessly at your innards worse than any peptic ulcer that you may have experienced in your lifetime. Good thing, too, since cruel, vindictive behavior should never go unpunished and it surely doesn’t. There are invariably consequences to be paid for ANYTHING you do in life, even if those consequences are largely invisible and may not always be broadcast to the world on a fifty-foot-high billboard surrounded by red-blinking neon lights. Spitefulness certainly qualifies as consequential behavior.

Is lying supine thinking—just thinking…..pondering…..contemplating…..assessing…..nothing else!—an innate waste of time?  Must one be physically or intellectually active to justify one’s earthly existence and in the process avoid societal scorn? I don’t know for certain, but I suppose not. Genius and orthodoxy are not compatible and never have been.  All novel, groundbreaking ideas irrefutably originate in the mind first, not when one is feverishly washing the car or shopping for groceries or punching a timeclock as you struggle mightily to earn a regular bi-weekly paycheck. Unimpeded thinking is the seed for inspiration.  To wit, do you REALLY think theoretical physicist extraordinaire Stephen Hawking would have realized his full genius if he had been physically whole and thus fully capable of pursuing any number of bodily endeavors?  Of course not!  Like it or not, Hawking had all that free time on his hands to just think and conjecture, and the remarkable profundities that came gushing out of his brain as a direct result of his unencumbered musings were downright astonishing. Thinking while doing nothing else has acquired a bad reputation for perpetuity and is commonly derided as a sanctuary for the slackards and bohemians and silver-spooners of the world.  Yet it’s undeserving of this putrid reputation.  Absolutely. Actions are a crucial part of any real-life equation, unquestionably, but nonstop actions sans a reasonable amount of forethought are intrinsically foolish and emblematic of beautiful time wasted.

Any journey, however long, begins with a single step.  Any enterprise, however daunting, begins with a single action.  Any book, however voluminous, begins with a single word.  Any movie, however classic, begins with a single scene.  Any relationship, however involved, begins with a single glance…..followed by a single touch…..followed by a single kiss…..followed by a single consummation…..followed by a single engagement…..followed by a single marriage…..followed by ?????  One is ALWAYS the most critical number in life, because in order to count to one million a person must first start with one and henceforth proceed from there.  You cannot count past one without properly recognizing it in sequence.  The number “one” holds disproportionate power—ultimate power, actually. Zero has no inherent value because it equates with utter nothingness, and infinity lies well beyond our human ability to comprehend, let alone appreciate. “One” is the critical and essential steppingstone to infinity, if that makes any sense owing to the fact counting to infinity is impossible, hence any percentage of infinity–however miniscule like the number one–is an undefined, incalculable entity as well.

…..truly, words—almost as much as tears—hold people back from doing whatever it is they want to do, thus I will stop speaking this instant, dry my eyes, and allow you to go on your way into this great big, uncharted world we share to accomplish grandiloquent things sans the burden of personal guilt hanging about your neck. To follow any other course of action would be inordinately selfish of me and unfair to you, and—gratifyingly—my enormous unspoken love for you would not abide such callous selfishness on my behalf for any significant length of time.  You go, I’ll stay behind to hold down the fort, and our lives will now diverge—in all probability on a permanent basis—even though my feelings for you have not abated in the least nor, likely, will they ever. Yet, paradoxically, the immense unrequited love I feel for you is the very reason I mustn’t stand in your way and attempt to influence your lifechanging decision in any way, shape, or form. If love means not having to say you’re sorry as legend holds, then it also means accepting outright rejection if that’s the way the dice happen to land. So go now, my body will stay behind right where it currently resides, but rest assured you’ll never be able to outrun the love I send along with you today even as you grow increasingly impatient with me and obviously are not currently feeling the same emotions as me…..

Never lose sight of the fact principles endure forever; people do not.  I made this mistake during my early fatherhood years and regrettably worked hard at inculcating into my three daughters’ brains the precept that family interests should always come first in everything, even—Although I never told them this explicitly!—at the expense of sacred principles.  Yes, I actually taught the girls that: Family loyalty should supersede principled behavior if ever the two should compete head-to-head in the arena of life.  Well…..I will now freely admit that I was grievously wrong in espousing this ill-advised philosophy and I would like to sincerely apologize to my three daughters for chronically misleading them on a subject so relevant and critical in the Donald Trump and post-Donald Trump years. Principles should UNFAILINGLY take precedence over everything else, including family members’ sometimes mistaken beliefs and the attendant potential for family discord, and this maxim will never change nor should it change; I know that now. I’ll confess that I should have known better “back then” as well, but in my defense I guess I’ll hold up the adage “Better late than never!” as my best, albeit feeble, rejoinder.

You never get a second opportunity to make a first impression…..or a second impression…..or a third impression…..or a fourth impression…..or a fifth impression…..or an nth impression.  You sort of get the idea by now, I would think, or at least you should if you possess even a quarter of a brain.  One can NEVER allow yourself the luxury of letting your guard down insofar as making favorable impressions with people you meet or with whom you interact, regardless of however long you might know them.  You will ALWAYS be judged on your behavior and your demeanor by everyone you come in contact with every time you come in contact with them, and rightfully so. Consistency matters—A WHOLE SHITLOAD!—and inconsistency and dishonesty are intimate lovers who share the same bed, eat at the same table, and drink from the same water spigot.

…..this is who I am.  If you don’t like me, fine, but make no mistake about it: I am NOT molding myself to meet with your approval.  Truth be told, your opinion of me doesn’t stand for one stinky shit and doesn’t bear one iota of influence on how I behave or how I respond to other people or the situations I find myself confronting and thereupon attempting to navigate in life. If you approve of my actions—Fine!—but if you disapprove I’m not going to lose one minute of sleep over the matter and I definitely am not going to alter my behavior purely to appease you and win your approval.  You stay in your lane—Okay??—and I absolutely promise that I will stay in mine. There is no good reason why we must interact or exchange meaningless small talk or pretend to be friends for public consumption. Truth be told, I would strongly prefer not being hypocritical and feel a fake compunction to do any of those things. I’ve never invested heavily in the slimy, unctuous appeasement business. Having made that point clear, I damn sure feel no burning desire to begin doing so at this belated stage of my life…..

You cannot CONTROL the future; you can only DEAL WITH the quadrillion vagaries it unceasingly throws your way.  You are the undisputed servant and fate is your stern taskmaster.  Life on Earth has always been this way and forever will be.  We should hope for the best and fear the worst. Pray for rain even while installing a deluxe irrigation system.  Hope the bully backs away even as you ball your hands into fists and estimate the distance from your right foot to his crotch. Slip a condom into your pants pocket knowing full well it’ll likely still be there at the end of another luckless evening. Attempt that next-to-impossible bank shot in billiards even while reaching into your wallet to pay off your ballsy bet. Shit or get off the pot. This is not being pessimistic or necessarily fatalistic; it only articulates and reinforces our human status as an infinitesimally puny lifeform in an infinite Universe that we’ll never be able to fully comprehend.  And if we are arrantly unable to comprehend our role and our place in a cosmos that defies description, of what value is our limited simian intelligence really?  Precious little. That’s right: PRECIOUS. FUCKIN’. LITTLE! Human life matters, of course, but then again it doesn’t matter too much; its main import lies in the eye of the beholder and not anyone or anything more transcendent than that.

A desperate man, unlike an innately sane individual, is particularly dangerous given the fact he feels he has nothing to live for anymore and hence has nothing to lose.  Nothing to lose, understand.  NOTHING!!!  Since he really doesn’t, you see; preordained fate has become a given for him.  In a desperado’s warped mind, his race has already been run and his time has now come. He bears no powerful, mood-altering allegiance to any locale, cause, or—most importantly—living person.  Therefore beware of desperate people, because just as their lives lose value in direct proportion to their increasing level of desperation, so too does yours if you happen to interact or be in close proximity to one of these sociopaths as the situational temperature spikes ever higher and their life’s trajectory spirals ever downward—spinning faster and faster and careening frighteningly out of control.  If a person like this has no clue what they’re going to do next, how in God’s name then are you supposed to psychopathically extrapolate that essential information yourself? Two-word answer: You cannot. So just be careful when you’re around them…..

Understanding organic conception and its nemesis death is relatively easy, but neither affords any clues insofar as where consciousness arises from and what ultimately becomes of it following each of our earthly demises.  Consciousness may live on in another, altogether different realm, but then again it may not.  No one knows for sure; human sentience is and will everlastingly remain a giant riddle.  Anyone who claims to know definitively where a soul goes once life ceases to exist in a human body—if in fact it goes anywhere or does anything—is at best a crass speculator and at worst a sniggering, pathological liar. Consciousness is far and away the greatest mystery we humans experience in our lifetimes—a mystery modern science cannot come remotely close to understanding despite its emissaries’ boastful, outlandish claims to especial insights—and, for better or worse, it will forever remain so.  Consciousness arises from nothingness and ultimately disappears back into nothingness. From nothing…..bless (or infect, depending on how you look at it) a human organism for a handful of years or decades or scores of years…..TO nothing. For longterm peace of mind, a person is infinitely better off embracing this conundrum rather than seeking to “solve” it.  One solves New York Times crossword puzzles and mathematical theorems and clever Sherlock Holmes mysteries, not transcendent, supernatural miracles.