Betterings
JR, the Parisian artist, made the iconic Louvre pyramid disappear 2016, but only for a weekend installation.
"I learned again, but I doubt that I'll remember."
I'm not tumbling into cynicism when I suggest that every attempted step forward tends to first feel like a step backward. Improvements, however aggressively pursued, seem to require some time to manifest, however urgently desired. It might even be true that greater urgency tends to slow down a desired manifestation, often first producing frustration instead. Once envisioned, a novel objective appears much closer than it ever turns out to be. Foresight transports the mind but not the body, unfortunately. I too easily over-inflate my expectations. I reach for some alluring star before gravity steps right up to remind me who and where I are. Dammit!
I might imagine that I would eventually outgrow these childish expectations about Betterings, but this old dog continues to tumble into his oldest trick, which suggests I will probably not be maturing very much beyond where I started on this issue. I still seem remarkably naive. Just this week, I tumbled for this stupidest of all stupid human tricks when I decided to migrate into a newer computer system. I knew I was very likely biting off more than I would be able to swallow, but even then, I seriously underestimated the degree of disruption for which I was volunteering. Upgrades, as I've railed about so frequently, tend to be downgrades in practice since they disrupt largely stabile functions with "new and improved" ones which might well seem new, but which very rarely improve anything at first. New boots produce blisters first, and this 'upgrade' would once again prove to be no exception to that rule.
I could recount the details, but only at the risk of producing descriptions almost as alluring as overheard snippets of conversation in an overcrowded barroom. Besides, I'm rather pleased with myself that I'm almost over the wounded first stage of migration. I'm finally adapting, deciding that I can flee back into my older technology when the new and improved fails to delight me. This decision brings complications, but these fresh encumbrances seem reassuringly less hassle than doing without my precious disrupted applications. I even find satisfaction in out-smarting what first seemed like a betrayal. I can figure out how to sneak files back and forth to more or less keep the databases parallel. Far from feeling compromised, I feel curiously energized carrying the additional overhead. I might even cop to feeling a little smug at how maturely I've adapted after my childish embrace of the prospective changes. I could probably maintain this reduced circumstance well into the future on the prospect that that future might very likely produce Betterings. It's apparently naivety all the way down.
We elect a new President hoping for better and we receive different at first. The prospect, even up to and including the first few days, feels enormously reassuring to me, but even I can see likely complications looming. Talk's cheap and action, usually more ruinously expensive, but we can afford the impending drama. It's likely to be nothing compared to what it's replacing, or is that just my naivety talking? The fresh features dazzle and I do not for a second miss the clatter of the old machine. Maturing seems different from whatever I once more naively expected, back before I'd had requisite experience with it. If I once thought that I might step past what I should have already known better than to step into, I was apparently mistaken. I still seem to step smack dab into the middle of almost every cognitive trap, but I seem to be improving in my ability to recover from that apparently inevitable mistake. I'm getting ever better at cleaning off my shoes before I track that crap all over the place. What might have become a grudge washed right off before it dried into a permanent stain on the quality of my experience. I learned again, but I doubt that I'll remember. These Betterings never learn better than to expect better than they'll first receive.
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There! We survived another week together in spite of considerable disruption. I suspect that we all somehow adapted through a hair-raising finish which isn't quite over and into another in an apparently infinite series of New Beginning Betterings. Looking backward for a minute to find a little context, I see a fresh pile of scribblings perhaps worth revisiting for a few minutes.
I began my writing week reflecting upon those acts which we can never take back that go on to define our legacy in BetterAngels, which tied for most popular this week. "It's slippery on every side of that slope. One must take great care over whatever they invoke."
I next looked at what appears to have become a new religion, the worship of cynics, in Cynic-ism. "The cynic unerringly sees what's missing and misses what's right there awaiting recognition."
I then re-discovered one of those obvious presences I never see at first, even though I anticipate these experiences, in Walled. "Until there's juice, it's just no use. One good excuse's enough."
I considered the presence, nature, and history of True Belief and its popular conspiracies in Cornspiracy, which also tied for most popular this week. "Many seem to have taken up arms to overthrow oppressors who never were and never could have been."
My initial descent into Betterings yielded typically self-indulgent whinings that might have turned into some actual learning in Migration. "Success probably relies upon deep ignorance and tenacious persistence, not merely not knowing but not knowing if you're not knowing or not."
I next compared free speech with its ignorant cousin in LooseTalk. "LooseTalk amounts to self deception and almost everyone eventually notices."
I ended this writing week reveling in the reassuringly refreshing experience of Lielessness. "They weren’t my lies but they infected my life."
I sense that I entered a new era over this passing week. I began in deepening paranoia and ended feeling sane. If I were to do this week all over again, I doubt that I would have changed much other than to have crushed This Damned Pandemic, but I acknowledge anew that I'm no superhero and, probably like you, repeatedly confess that I ain't much but still apparently just enough. My Betterings inevitably make things worse at first, but with persistent hope, even Betterings get better. Thank you so much for following along with me again again.
©2021 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved