"I dream of a hard and brutal mysticism in which the naked self merges with the nonhuman world and somehow survives...Paradox and bedrock."-Edward Abbey

23 October 2010

Matters of Decpetion

"The key to victory in a military operation is deception. Though effective, appear ineffective. Though competent, appear incompetent..."-Sun Tzu

"Candy apples and razorblades
little dead are in their graves,
I remember Halloween-
This day
anything goes..."
-This Misfits

In a little over a week, that one autumn holiday is coming up. Like the Devil, it has been known by many names; Samhain, All Hallows Eve, All Saints' Day, All Souls' Day, Hop-Tu-Naa, Halloween. To some, a new year to be celebrated, when the veil between the lands of the living and realms of the dead are supposedly at their thinnest. Whilst to others, it's an excuse to get liquored and party. A holiday dedicated to the sham and sickness of facades.

I used to really enjoy said holiday. Part of it being the fact it seemed to point out facades and appearances and the metaphoric masks monkeys wear for the absurdity it is. That and there was often chocolate involved.

As the years progressed, I found myself less and less impressed by it. I have often blamed this on my stint with the vampire caste. It's kind of hard to take such a holiday seriously when Halloween can and did occur on any given day. The mantra of Everyday is Halloween might just be my second favorite Ministry song next to Scarecrow, but as a way of thinking and being, I found it more than a little trite.

There is also the aspect of Homo sapiens being deceptive animals by nature. The whole Fisher-Price pop-psychology that we all wear masks. Well, not unlike any other species, I suppose. There has to be a fair amount of bluffing to survive in the big bad world.

So why dedicate a day to dressing up like pirate or one's favorite rockstar? I mean other than a taste of the strange and chance to pretend to live in someone, or something, else's skin? A half-assed attempt to escape one's self, perhaps? I suppose, if one is filled with that kind of self-loathing. After all, the riddle of the individual can be slightly macabre, along with being perplexing. Once, I quoted to an acquaintance the line from Sun Tzu about how if one knows their enemy and knows themselves, they will not be imperiled in a hundred battles, and that cat just kind of snorted.

"Knowing your enemy is easy," he said. "Knowing yourself is the hard part."

I had nothing...

Of course, some schools of philosophical thought advance the theory that the I in individual is but a phantasm. There is no you or me, which can border upon terrifying for some, and a mindfuck without a kiss or reach around for others.

I have lost track of how many times I have been told I am not what was expected or as I appear. Expectations do lead to disappointment, and I do believe a judgment based upon the surface observation is a sickness, but that probably comes with how I was fucked with so incessantly about my appearance from a rather early age. Over the years and lifetimes, depending on my mood at the time, it's either amusing, saddening, or just plain frustrating to have some random biped be all kinds of shocked that I grew up on a farm, wrote and self-published book, know how to cook, have a command of language, know a little about religions and sciences, that I have a child of whom I have a good relationship with.

Why wouldn't I? Why couldn't or shouldn't I? No matter how often it happens, whatever my mood-based reaction, I am also shocked. I've joked I must be the master of deception because of it. Then again, it's all true. Even and especially the lies.

So, Halloween is coming in a little over a week, and I have a hard time being excited, much less impressed to rocket science. Sabina has gotten herself a pumpkin to carve and sometimes speaks of putting up some decorations, because apparently my collection of various skulls and bones and our other bits of oddness and esoterica are not in the proper context. My daughter told me she wants to dress up as Waldo of Where's Waldo? fame, and I do remember snickering at the thought. Although, I catch myself wondering if instead of the battle cry of trick or treat! I should mutter bah humbug!

In a week, there is a Halloween dance in our loverly little township. Because my hypocrisy knows no bounds, I might just go. Hey, it's an opportunity to go monkey watching. Other than wearing pants, the likelihood of my playing dress-up is right up there with hitting Deneb with a rubber band whilst laying at the very bottom of the Mariana Trench. If queried about a costume, I figure I'll only be able to speak in truths; I'm the cat who's apparently nothing as he appears or is expected. One of my favorite quotes from The Art of War wrapped in a package blue jeans and a t-shirt.

It'll all be true, even and especially the lies. But who knows? I might just win a prize.

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