Friday, January 09, 2009

Just talking

I wish I had me to talk to. I don't know whether I'd like me, but we'd have a lot in common, amirite?

I have people I talk to, and that's fine. I enjoy talking to P, to A, to B (although I'd like it more if B got to the effing point now and then), to Z, to SS. Some people it's a chore to talk to, usually because they get more out of it than I do, and I realise when I say that that I am sometimes the chore. I am not very interesting to talk to, but I would be interesting for me.

Who else wants to know about what I want to talk about? If I had me, we could explore thoughts together, and I think we could work out whether what we want is possible.

I am going to tell you something that is easy to say but may not even be possible. I warn you that it's ferociously boring, but it's the thing I want to talk about more than anything else. It's like there's a jewel, but maybe I imagine it, maybe it's real. Here it is: can you figure out equity on the fly by knowing how a good shove is composed of fold equity and hot and cold equity? I don't just mean can I do it. If it can be done, I believe I can do it. I mean, can it be done? Is it what people do, even if they cannot articulate what they are doing?

See, you don't want to talk about that. But I would.

I think it is crazy that I enjoy trying to figure out the mysteries more than I enjoy playing. That's not really true though. I do enjoy playing a lot. I don't enjoy results. But my results are good! The problem is, I am so scared that they will go bad.

I don't know how to get over that fear. But I think I would if I could discuss it with me.

We would talk all night. We would not abandon each other.

You know something that really hurt? The guy who fucked me over because he couldn't work me for enough money an hour. It hurts to be worth nothing but dollars. I've never thought of people like that, and I'll make a pisspoor capitalist, because I never can. I like giving. I like sharing and seeing people grow. Even though they sometimes outgrow me, I still want to feed them and help them achieve what they can. I don't think I have properly articulated why I was hurt. I think it was that he simply did not treat me as anything other than a cash machine. Maybe it would not have felt bad to him to be treated the same way, but I can't help thinking it would.

I help people all the time with poker. I don't care that I could be making money instead. I like people to think that I've given them something. I like them to feel that their life, in some small way, is better for knowing me.

What else do we have? A scrabble for stuff? WTF, that is all we are, how many dollars we amass?


What I wouldn't talk about is the English language. I'm jack of that. I don't find it intriguing any more, if I ever did. I do find language on the whole intriguing (I follow links in Wikipedia from one thing to another, because language is one thing that is generally written by experts, or cribbed from experts, and rarely gets fucked up by clowns who know nothing but want to wield power in a multiplayer game). I probably don't find it intriguing in the way you do, if you do.

So the other night I was reading about Ulster Scots. This is because I was reading about Irish surnames and I wandered. So from there I got into Scots, and what was interesting for me was thinking about how a language (let's call it a language -- Scots proper is probably at least as different from English as Book Norwegian is from Danish) is dying, but its echoes, in accent and dialect, reverberate. The same is true for Northumbrian, the parent of Scots and the northernmost dialects of English, which is much further down the road to extinction (if not already arrived).

So now there is a Scots continuum: both on the ground and among the population. Some are bilingual: speaking Scots when among Scots, English when in contexts that require it. Some speak a hybrid Scots English; some standard English with a Scots flavour.

Interestingly, Scots was universally spoken, and was the language even of the courts and the intelligentsia, until the Enlightenment. Some of the Enlightened went on a crusade to stamp out Scots, and succeeded. The language of the Scottish middle class is standard English, the exact same language I speak.

I have perennially found it odd that people can have a language they speak and a language they write. I am thinking of Swiss German and standard German, Catalan and Spanish, Egyptian Arabic and literary Arabic.

And it's strange that Arabic is Arabic not Arabish, when Turkish is just the language of the Turks, but Turkic is a type of language, not one in particular.


So the other day I was playing poker, and I noticed someone was called TulsaTrent. And you know how it is, you can't stop yourself thinking, I wonder whether he really is from Tulsa.

No, really, I know. You don't have any problem stopping yourself thinking it. You don't even start. But I do. I'm curious whether he lives in Tulsa, or comes from Tulsa but lives elsewhere and is nostalgic. And on Stars, if you right click someone's name, you find out where they come from. So he is from Owasso, which right enough is an exurb of Tulsa, so Google Maps tells me.

So that's that, right? No, I follow a road out of Tulsa on the map, across Oklahoma and then joining Interstate 1, across Texas, Louisiana, Alabama, Florida, meaningless names, places that are nowhere special, no need to know. But I know.

We have no reason for any of it. Realise that and you do not need to care what you do with your time.


At 10:11 pm, Anonymous Anonymous said...

boots sez:

"We have no reason for any of it. Realise that and you do not need to care what you do with your time."

We are the reason for all of it.

"WTF, that is all we are, how many dollars we amass?"

That, too. When does the rent come due?

"I have people I talk to, and that's fine."

Get yourself a soccer ball, paint a bloody face on it, and name it "Wilson", it'll make more sense than the lot.

At 2:59 am, Blogger P. said...

Zen, you are who you are and that is the man you will always be.

And you know it as well as I do that the A's and B's and P's of this world, well they might offer out advice and words of potential wisdom (best case scenario, obv.) because they're your friends and they care about you but fucksake... who is the bloke they love, hmm? Who is the guy they care about?

He is you. Don't change. Else I might have to wipe you off my "I never send him one but wish I could" Christmas card list.

At 3:50 am, Anonymous Anonymous said...

boots sez:

Ewwww, saccharine!

At 3:57 am, Blogger P. said...


Shit in peace, Boots. You only don't see the sour ones because the damn Nazi gets there first ;)

Kisses to all.

At 5:50 am, Blogger Arleen said...

because they're your friends and they care about you but fucksake... who is the bloke they love, hmm? Who is the guy they care about?

He is you.

What she said, but for one thing. I won't say don't change. I'm splitting hairs here because I know what she means. It's the you that you are now that we know and care about, so if you don't change, that's cool. But if you do change, that's cool, too, because sometimes we need to change in order to continue to be who we are.

At 7:36 pm, Blogger $Zero said...

WTF, that is all we are, how many dollars we amass?


At 8:02 pm, Anonymous Anonymous said...

boots sez:

$Zero? Are you there? I can't see you. Have you not amassed enough dollars to be visible?

btw that's one fugly photo of you, dude. [G]

At 9:31 pm, Blogger Dr Zen said...

Zero, I'll never believe that and not only because I don't have any dollars.

At 6:10 am, Blogger Looney said...

Our dollars, like our time, are only indicators or clues to who we really are.


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