// 0008 You’re all assholes and you deserve to know it

When you were in trouble, I was there to help. I was there to listen to your shit. I offered my best thoughts on how to resolve the matter. You didn’t take the advice, but what the fuck? No one values free advice anyway. Why should I care? But sometimes I even crawled out of my cave to lift a helping hand. I threw you some money and I didn’t ask for a dime back. I helped you move. I gave you a book. You’d be hard-pressed to find a friend like me.

When I was in trouble, you placated and told me everything would work out fine. You didn’t listen. You didn’t hear. You didn’t take the time to understand my situation. You looked at me like I was the problem. You crucified me like Job’s friends. You didn’t offer tips or ideas. You didn’t suggest a book or even send me an article. You didn’t lift a fucking finger or get your fat ass off your comfort recliner to move a damn box. You didn’t give me any money, and you certainly didn’t give me any food. You didn’t do anything when I was desperate, and I could see that things were going from bad to worse.

This is what it means to “Kick them when they’re down.”

May Karma have mercy on your ass (it won’t).

Fuck you and your empty philosophy,

– Anderson

// 0007 Your filters are smeared in skid marks

I’ve got to get some things off my chest.

And let’s be REAL about this. We’ve all got better things to do than to type up rants to explain the inner workings of the world to people who don’t even have the minds to understand them. They are so stuck in their ways, and so reliant on their fuckin’ upbringing that they never think anything new, try anything new, or allow anything new to come into their life.

For fuck’s sake, let yourself be challenged every now and again – it might make a difference where it counts, lazy boy – on your stomach, in your wallet, and the lives of the people who give a damn about your sorry ass.

I will stand and applaud if you make it to the end of this piece (I doubt you will), even if you could give two shits about what some mid-aged, white male in Seattle’s gotta say.

There’s no good place to start this, so fuck it, let me tackle the issues one by one. 

If these are the end times, god is the worst scriptwriter ever

Look man, I would get it if there were fire-breathing dragons flying around, zombies crawling the planet, nuclear warfare breaking out across the world… Yeah, that would be good time for the fuckin’ almighty to step in. Bad ass.

But you’re going to sit there on your armchair philosophizer 2000 and tell me that the end times are near because we’ve been locked up for a year, you’re getting a little antsy, and you lost a few dollars (we all got that in common, broseph).

Things are shit in the States. So what? It’s been much worse. You and I are privileged.

But more to the point, you don’t give your god much credit, do ya? I can almost guarantee he’s in agreement with me here.

You’re a lazy shit. You don’t do anything. You don’t add value to the world. All you do is judge people from the comfort of your fuckin’ home when the big black book you read says judging is god’s business, but you self-righteously ordain yourself judge and jury, when you have no qualifications that anyone in their right mind would ever recognize.

And then you have the nerve to project your unbelief, your lack of “rightness” with god onto guys like me who did everything right in their career and retired early. The issue is with you, buddy.

And more to the point, fuck you. You don’t know the first thing about work ethic, and our forefathers would put me to fuckin’ shame. I’ve said it already. They knew pain, and it often lasted for years. All you’ve done is sit in your goddamn home for a year. Give me a break.

I’ve heard people say god has a sense of humor. I bet they are right. But I’m also guessing his sense of humor isn’t so poor that he’d force a solution on a problem we’re fully capable of solving. Righting of the world isn’t rocket science. We’ve just got to clear away the financial incentive for doing the right thing. Because people always seem to do the wrong thing where too much money is involved.

God would be a horrible scriptwriter if he sent Jesus back now. How stupid and boring would that be?  

You don’t know me, asshole

Don’t make assumptions about me based on my colorful writing.

I ain’t no one special, and I don’t claim to be. I write shit (and though I do make my points, I don’t think I’m a good writer). I publish what I write occasionally. But I’d much rather be spending time with my family or playing some Floyd on my six-string in the den. I make for a piss poor Gilmour, but it passes the time, and it gives me something to do.

So, you toss your bullshit onto me without knowing the first thing about me. And this is really the first time I’ve revealed this much about myself. But some of it is obvious based on the last seven tomes I’ve dedicated to pieces of excrement like you.

Sure, let my language guide the way. Because that’s the measure of a human being, right? I have a family who would dare to disagree with you. Because I stand up for them, provide for them, and protect them.

You think I haven’t read a few books in my time? Give me a fuckin’ break. I will put your lazy ass to shame. And you want to come around here talking about some Lee Strobel preaching to the choir bullshit? You asshole…

Name calling solves nothing, but you raised my ire and there ain’t no punching bag around, so here we are. Eye of the tiger.

I’m not going to tell you to do your homework, because that would mean reading another seven pieces like this (in the archives), each of which will challenge your notions about god, life, and the universe. But hey, to each his own.

If you’re chicken shit, don’t read. If you’re out of your gourd like Pelosi, don’t read. Stay the way you are. Just do the world a favor and keep your damn thoughts to yourself. And keep the fuck away. Six feet please.

I’m living my purpose, man – what the hell are you doing?

So, you want to come around here wanting to rattle my cage. Good for you, man. And why do you think that’s important? Do you think I’m so disconnected from reality that I can’t see what’s going on?

Shit's gonna happen, but life’s gonna go on, anyway. I’ve still got a home, I’ve still got a family, and I’ve still got things to do. It’s boring as shit when I lay it out like that, but it gives my life purpose. And I’m living my fucking purpose. There's not an ounce of doubt in me.

Can you honestly say you’re living your purpose when you’re shaking diarrhea dribble in your boots? You’re just projecting your fear onto me, man. I ain’t your problem. You’re your own worst enemy. 

Doing the good work by spreading the gospel, my man? Then maybe get to know people first.

In my profession, year after year, these moronic salespeople would come in. It wasn’t my job, I was in project management, but I’d tell them, “Hey, what the hell you doing? You can’t just sell to people the moment you get on the phone. You’ve got to build a relationship with them.”

And wouldn’t you know it, the sales team fucking upped their game. Sad about the turnover, because I found myself dipping my toe in their shit bowl every year, but oh well… I can be proud of what I did for the company. I spoke up when I saw something going on that just wasn't gonna fly.

The point is that if you want to sell your religion, maybe you should give two shits about the people you’re talking to.

Screaming “Jesus is the way” from the rooftops is more likely to get you escorted to the loony bin than to change anyone’s fucking mind about anything.

Christ.

I’m outta here, man. Good luck.

- Anderson

// 0006 Consensus is – objectivity isn’t

Sometimes I hate talking with people.

And, yeah, I’m brash, opinionated, controversial… all that. I’m a foul-mouthed, mid-aged white guy with nothing better to do. Fuck if I know anything.

I’m still open minded. You don’t come to the point of looking into issues like flat earth and religion without having given it your best shot to try to understand where people are coming from. And, I can still admit when my arguments don’t have legs to stand on.

But this is my blog. And I will do whatever the fuck I want with it.

Today’s topic? Objectivity. And I’ll be a monkey’s uncle if it ain’t a loaded gun.

I’ve talked about the fact that “facts aren’t facts” before, and I know that gets people’s underpants in an uncomfortable, twisted bunch. Either way, consider this an elaboration on this idea. And give me my fucking space to say my damn piece.

Objectivity is impossible. It always comes with bias. And if you think for a moment that you’re going to find “objective” truths in this time of chaos and mass hysteria, then your IQ must be that of a doorknob.

But even outside of all that noise, objectivity doesn’t exist. History books, encyclopedias, internet archives, Wikipedia entries, the news… whatever source we’re dealing with, there’s no way to present the “truth” in a way that will be understood the same way by everyone reading, listening or watching.

“But I was there, I saw it!” I’m not arguing with you. There are plenty of other people that saw it too.

But this is what we call consensus. I suppose you could think of it as objectivity’s bastard cousin, but in this world, we only get one. You can’t have both.

No one on this planet was there for every historical event. And, no one is recording all the boring, mundane events, such as the fact that I woke up at about 11 AM this morning. I’m sure I could get consensus from my family, but the rest is for shit. No one gives a damn that I got up at 11 AM. It’s unimportant. Yet, how do you know that’s not the butterfly that turns into a tornado?

Someone swears their grandparents were multimillionaires, yet they can’t rub two nickels together. Sure, maybe their grandparents were rich. Maybe they weren’t. I can’t verify it. And, “rich” being a subjective term, we’re already having trouble establishing objectivity.

“Here, I’ll show you – here’s a picture of my grandparents.” So? I’m sure most of us could dig up a picture of our grandparents. And, if we didn’t fucking like them, we’d still be able to Photoshop them into a suit and dress with Zurich in the background.

This ain’t some “guilty until proven innocent” bullshit. People really think they know what the truth is, and they really think they’re right, and they get really fucking angry at you if you don’t agree with them. Ever notice that?

Try saying something to your friends they wouldn’t expect you to say, and instantly they’ll try to draw you back in line like you were a crab in a bucket. Is it so godawful that there’s a diversity of beliefs out there?

Man, life is whatever you make it mean. Give up intellectual laziness and go study Werner Erhard for once. Understand what it means to drop your stories and your interpretations of life. Get a sense of what it’s like to be “on the court” instead of in your head.

People fucking go around like we know what’s going on in their head all the time, and it just ain’t so. If you’ve got something to say, speak up already. Stop living in your head.

Unexpressed expectations are premeditated resentment. Ever come across that gem?

Look, we can agree on some things. I don’t think anyone is going to cry about me saying that Leonardo DiCaprio is an actor. That’s easily verifiable, as the man is alive and well. In many ways, it still comes down to consensus though. And, if you want to get more specific, let the clusterfuck begin. I don’t know when he woke up this morning, do you?

Now, this is where people like to bring in another clusterfuck called cognitive bias.

Has it ever occurred to you, though, that cognitive bias was created by some guy who was unhappy about the way others thought, and just wanted to be justified and validated in his rightness? His bias is that everyone should agree with him. Fucking Christ, has that never crossed your mind until just now?

It’s an Inception of biases, which is why I called it a clusterfuck. This shit gets confusing fast when you look at it with a fresh pair of eyes.

My head starts swimming the moment I even hear the term “cognitive bias”, because I’m trying to figure out how someone thought they were so right about themselves, others and the world, that they figured they could set themselves up to be more right about their rightness by pointing out problems with other people’s wrongness. Motherfucker.

People all have varying degrees of knowledge, experience, understanding, IQ and so on. We synthesize information differently, and our context for certain subjects is different. We all react differently to what’s being said or done on an emotional level. Cognitive bias? Fuck no. This is what it means to be human, dipshit.

So, give up objectivity. All you do when you perpetuate the idea is succumb to intellectual laziness and hold tightly to your rightness. You’re not fucking right. I’m not fucking right.

There’s only one tool we’ve got to work with. It’s called consensus. It’s about agreement. Enough people agree about something, it’s called “truth”, but you’ve got to recognize that truth is a moving target, for all the reasons I’ve already pointed out.

So, the maker didn’t intend anyone to have a grasp of truth. It’s got nothing to do with the experience we’re living. All we were given was a way to agree on a set of “facts.”

That is why I say facts aren’t facts.

- Anderson

// 0005 Breaking free from The Matrix

Can we all agree that we are part of a system?

And, that system isn’t as complex as it appears. It’s just that there are systems within systems (an Inception of systems) that masquerade around to make the entire thing look more complex than it is.

You know how it is. The financial system looks like a confusing clusterfuck when you don’t understand the jargon, but when you do, you realize it’s not as mind bending as you once thought – it’s just drawn that way.

Government is a system. Traditional education is a system. And, organized religion is a system, even if it didn’t start that way (the fuck it didn’t).

Well, if you know me, you know that I’m building to something, like Pink Floyd’s “The Great Gig In The Sky.” And, viewer discretion is advised, my friend, because I’m about to leave you feeling about as uncomfortable as an unnecessary bloodbath in a Tarantino film. That film you claim your religion doesn’t permit you to watch (but you do anyway, because 10 commandments be damned).

Yeah, today’s topic is religion. One of the three taboos. So, what?

Now that I’ve touched on flat earth, the beast is out of the cage. If you can’t handle it, fuck off.

At the front, I wanna say that I have no problem with religious people. From the outside looking in, though, it’s easy to see how stuck they can get, like a dog in a three-inch fence. Sure, he could jump it. But if he’s been trained not to, he won’t. And, if he’s been punished severely enough, he’ll never go near that fence again. The fence may as well be imaginary, because it doesn’t need to be there to stop the dog from leaving his designated square of grass anymore. He’s got major pain associated with that kind of disobedience.

I don’t pretend to know who the almighty is. I have no idea what his values are or what he believes.

People say you can find it in a book (that he didn’t write). They say that you can hear his voice if you seek him (we’ve all got inner dialogue). That you’ll be “saved” if you ask his forgiveness. That he’ll show up in your time of need. Whatever the fuck any of that means.

Look, it just sounds to me like you don’t understand the system yet. Because if you did, you’d see that this is basically just a way to keep you disempowered. If you always think someone’s coming to your rescue, you’ll live your life waiting for her. Even Dorothy had to make her own way, chicken shit. If she didn’t go tumbling down that yellow brick road, she’d never get to go on an epic journey and meet the wizard.

I have no problem with spirituality whatsoever. But the things people say about god – like the things I just rattled off – have nothing to do with spirituality and everything to do with control. Control is basically synonymous with the system, though they certainly don’t teach that in kindergarten, let alone college or university. To spell it out for you would just be embarrassing.

So, let’s go back to a rather provocative thing I said earlier. You probably missed it, so here it is again – I have no idea what god’s values are or what he believes. Put your reading glasses on and take a close look at that statement again, because there’s a good chance you’ve never questioned this on your journey towards heaven, enlightenment, nirvana, blossoming of human consciousness, or whatever the fuck you want to call it.

If you and I are supposed to be bound by some “spiritual” laws (take a hint – they ain’t spiritual), then don’t you think god himself should adhere to the same laws? Why does he get to be outside of it all? What makes him justified in sending people to hell?

Call me a fucker if I’m wrong, but don’t your sacred texts say something about “thou shall not kill”? And, don’t the same holy texts say something about god destroying nations? I know they do. I’m not a fucker.

By his own logic, god himself should be burning in hell with “sinners.” Because he’s envious (jealous too, apparently). And vengeful. And a murderer. And, he doesn’t live by his own defined standards. You know as well as I do, he’s guilty on a myriad of other counts. If he was a man on earth, we’d have him jailed and sentenced to death. Ah, but you want to say that already happened, right?

Oh, not to mention… he’s responsible for creating evil. I know you’ve got some fucked up logic to explain how that works, but outside of theology, would you honestly trust a guy who says he loves you and then aims a cannon at your 1,200 sq. ft. home with a white picket fence, golden retriever and 1.93 children?

Blow me. You’d do exactly what anyone else would do. You’d piledrive that bastard into the ground faster than you can say “crucifix.”

Yeah, I know you don’t get it. Because you don’t allow yourself to go there. Don’t jump the fence. Don’t jump the fence. Fuck the fence! Allow yourself to think critically for just a moment. You might see something you never saw before.

And, by the way, if you didn’t know this already, you’re already in hell. Welcome.

If hell is separation, we couldn’t be more separate from each other. No one can read anyone else’s minds. We fight over petty shit. Quarrel over toilet paper at the local grocery store because we think that’s going to save us from a pandemic. Christ.

No one said hell wasn’t a party. There’s plenty to do here. It’s just that we’re never satisfied. Nothing is enough. More food. More drink. More sex. More drugs. More, more, more. Satiation is unattainable.

I can’t believe most people think we’re in some kind of in between place, between heaven and hell, like limbo or purgatory. And, I can’t believe that some people believe you go to another in between place after you die. For fuck sake.

Look, I get it. You’ve had a good time here. And, you’ve also had challenges. But at a core level, we are all disconnected.

Heaven is unrestricted intimacy without promiscuity. John Eldredge, a Christian, said that – look it up!

This world is one of contrast. Highs and lows. Ups and downs. Beauty and ugliness. Young and old. Life and death.

But we don’t exist in three or four realms, as some claim. We only exist in two – in the physical and the spiritual. And, while they do coexist, while we’re here, our physical experience is far more pronounced.

When you exist in the spiritual realm, it’s pure bliss. The disconnection is gone. The contrast is gone. The hunger and thirst are gone. You don’t live there right now. You only get a taste of it in this physical experience, an experience of your choosing.

Now that I’ve destroyed religion for you (but only if you were ready to disconnect from The Matrix), let’s replace that hole with the pure simplicity the maker himself intended…

God is love. That’s it. Anything else you can attach to that statement is some bullshit someone made up to leave you feeling like you weren’t in control. Like you couldn’t take the bull by the horns and tombstone drive that behemoth into the ground like the chiseled, bronzed macho you are. Like you couldn’t do anything with your life. That it was all about waiting for someone to come and save you. It’s not!

Save yourself, before it’s too late. Because spirituality is about relationship with self. Go through the scriptures and replace every reference to god with “me” or “my subconscious mind”. You’ll see some things. I challenge you to do this exercise. NOW.

There are enough fences around you. Start breaking them down. It’s what you were meant to do.

- Anderson

// 0004 Be an artist or be a business owner, make up your mind

Alright young buck, it’s time to get your shit together.

You’ve been whining and bitching about how you want things to look, when you should be sticking to your guns, which is bringing in customers. And, you’ve got a talent for it, so why is your face green as grass? You’ve got something he ain’t got, and he got something you ain’t got. It’s a match made in heaven, like a Les Paul and a Marshall stack – but only if you don’t abuse the shit out of him.

If you can’t leave the creative guy alone, then at least throw in a word of encouragement every once and a while – “you’re doing great”, “keep it up”, “rock on brother.” He needs fuel to keep going, and last I checked, fuel ain’t free. Plus, you should be giving him way more uninterrupted focus time.

It’s awesome when you find a creative who can do your work, keep to deadlines and churn out masterpieces like they’re Picasso on Adderall. But you’ve got to look at them as a depleting asset, not as a bottomless can of juice you can keep squeezing. If you’ve got them running a marathon and keep asking them to sprint, how do you think they’re going to feel after a while?

Yeah, sure, some course correction is par for the course. But there’s a time and place for that. Asking for a fuck ton of changes on your lousy project when the creative is about to burn out is like asking a shark to turn away when you’re the only one bleeding out profusely in god's blue ocean. Good luck.

At the very least, use the traffic light system.

Green light for “Go, I’m ready to take on anything you’ve got.”

Yellow light for “I’ve been in the frying pan for a while, and I’m starting to get crispy around the edges.”

Red light for “Stay the fuck away, I’ve got more on my plate than you can possibly conceive or imagine.”

Ask your creative, at least once per week, where they’re at. And, if you get the red-light treatment for longer stretches, then get a hot clue, you fucking moron, and give them some paid time off. Yes, I said it – PAID time off. That ain’t a four-letter word.

If you can’t give them two weeks, then send them away for a leisurely long weekend. That’s going to do them, and your working relationship, wonders. A few off days can give both of you a much-needed perspective. And, if you don’t do it, guess what? Resentment is going to build on both ends.

You’re gonna feel like the creative isn’t hearing you and like they aren’t hitting your targets. Although you are mostly to blame, because you’re often asking for something arbitrary, and can’t properly articulate it in a standard operating procedure. Your target is in your head, and you expect people to read your fucking mind. Douche.

The creative gives birth to art. And, their art is their baby. If people don’t treat their baby with care, you’re going to see steam blow out of their ears.

This doesn’t mean there isn’t room for constructive criticism. Of course, there is. But if you can’t be tactful in how you deliver it, fuck it. You might as well tear the creative a new asshole and ask them to hand over their over-leveraged life.

The greatest sin, though, is to ask the creative to change their workflow when you’re getting awesome results from their work.

Author Dan Kennedy says he gets on the phone with several clients every single week just to convince them to keep their high ROI ads running. Those entrepreneurs get bored of running the same ads but that doesn’t make a fuck load of difference. Keep doing what’s working. Wise words. Burn them into your thick skull.

Stop trying to be an artist in your business, dipshit. You’ve already got one.

You think the creative doesn’t know when he’s being exploited? Trust me – he’s not in the dark about any of it. And, he might bottle it up for a while, but he’s bound to burst at some point. If you don’t mind losing him, screw it. But if you have any desire to keep your talent, you’d better shape up or ship out, fuck tard.

When humans get bored, they invent problems that don’t exist.

I don’t care how boring or mundane your job is. Stop inventing problems that don’t exist. Don’t force your people through those blood-stained gates. Get them to keep doing what’s working, ass wipe.

- Anderson