I Have My Standards

"If there's one thing that I hate, it's being called a liar. Unless I happen to be lying, have just finished telling a lie, or am about to begin lying."

Dream On, Mr. Businessman

Dreamer: An impractical person; visionary; one who lives in dreamland, a lovely but imaginary place.

Some day I'm going to try to live in the world that actually exists. I hasten to add that my plans are not immediate or urgent. I find the real world to be harsh; there are lots of clanging bells and rapidly flashing lights and noxious stimuli. There are nasty surprises. I'd rather close my eyes, kick back, and drift through some fanciful bullshit alternate reality.


I find this a pleasant way to spend time at work.

"Dream on, Mr. Businessman." Jimi Hendrix

Bad Seed

Motive: Refers to any impulse, emotion, or desire that moves one to action (greed was his only motive for stealing).


I try to remember to pay attention to the rationale behind what I'm doing. It's not always very good. It's very rarely any good. It's never any good.

Usually, I'm trying to get something for myself. While this is quite distasteful and the definition of selfish, it's made even worse by the fact that a lot of the time I'm kind of pleased when someone else does poorly or is denied something that they want. It's the Horseface Variation of the slogan: Misery loves company. If I can't be happy, I want you to be miserable. It's not that I want you to be a little unhappy, it's that I want you to be really, really miserable.

I used to watch a lot of sports. Mostly, this is because it was pretty easy to do while smoking weed and drinking heavily. Certainly it was easier than doing the sport itself. Now, in my defense, which is one of my favorite expressions, I have the hand-eye coordination of a drunk two year old, and I'm not fast or quick or strong or graceful or steely or confident, all of which contribute to my consistently poor performance in sports. I tried to participate in everything when I was younger but decided that I could humiliate myself in a less public way.

As I stayed sober I started getting out and doing things instead of watching other people do things on The TV. When I did watch, I found that much of the time I was rooting against a team rather than rooting for someone to do well. It's the Horseface Variation on the theme: I Don't Care Who Wins as Long as You Lose. There are more noble ways of living your life than that one.

I see this play out in our politics, too. A lot of people with all kinds of different political beliefs seem to be motivated by a desire to see the other side fail. I can barely talk to people who disagree with me anymore; they seem to enjoy heaping humiliation on their opponents. If I can't get my way, I'm going to make damn sure you don't get yours.

Pleasure in the misfortune of others. Ah, yes, something else to be proud of.

Lying v. More Lying

Lie: A false statement or action, especially one made with the intent to deceive; anything that gives or is meant to give a false impression.

Lie is the simple, direct word meaning to make a deliberately false statement.

I wonder why lying isn't one of the 7 Deadly Sins. Apparently, it's more minor in nature. All that does is encourage me to do it a lot since I know that there really isn't anything in the way of dire consequences beyond a couple of Hail Marys or splashing around a little holy water.

It's not that I can't see the error of my ways -- it's that I can't seem to stop myself. There can be a lot of pleasure in sinning.

Most of us are born to some kind of greatness. My talent seems to have fallen under the broad category of doing things to give a false impression, which doesn't sound as bad as lying. Now, of course, I would rather have developed into a great doctor or preacher or public servant of some kind, but that is the hand that I've been dealt. I'm a born liar. I should have been a spook for the CIA.

I enjoy lying, to be honest about it. Although sometimes when I'm really telling a corker I'll add the "to be honest about it" phrase, so you may want to take that comment with a grain of salt. Lying comes to me naturally. I can look someone in the eye and spool out the most incredible BS, and I don't pause a beat even when I can tell that nobody is buying into the spirit of the lie.

I'm a purist when I'm practicing my specialty. I have standards, a code.

While I enjoy the direct, bold-faced lie, my favorite is the lie of misdirection. This is where technically I tell the truth -- there is no false information in the words themselves -- while still managing to make you believe something that isn't true.

I'm also quite good at the honest lie. This is where I tell the same incorrect story over and over for so long that I forget it isn't true and begin to believe it myself. I told stories for years before figuring out that they weren't true.

"I don't believe I ever did that," I'd think.

And of course who can discount the situational lie? This is where I change the volume and intensity of the lie depending on the subject and situation. For example, let's say I went out and drank 10 beers. I'd tell my friends that I had twice that many, because it made me look good or something while telling my parents or boss or Officer Harm that I had two.

I bet I could beat a lie detector test.

Pride V. Humility

Pride: An over-high opinion of oneself; exaggerated self-esteem; conceit.

Humility: Having or showing a consciousness of one's own defects or shortcomings; not proud; not self-assertive; modest.


Pride is the keystone of the 7 Deadly Sins. In some quarters it's considered the most serious sin -- not a small achievement since we're talking about the 7 worst sins -- and the one from which all of the other Deadly Sins emanate. I personally don't know where these quarters are: I'm just passing along rumors and unsubstantiated gossip that I've overheard. But pride is the original Mother of all sins, so to speak.

I've also heard some people in totally different quarters use the alternate word"vainglory." It's a great word. Then, if you so choose, you can be vainglorious. It sounds somehow worse and better than proud all at the same time.

It's funny when you think about it, how poorly we have handled the gifts that we've been given. Everybody is given gifts; most of us are given more than our fair share, and some of us are ridiculously blessed, despite all of the bitching we do about how badly we've been screwed.


Unfortunately, we have a tendency to take what we have been given and tell everyone all about it, implying that we are responsible for what we have. "I'm better than you," we think. If you're born with a sharp mind or great athletic ability or, as in my case, you are ridiculously good looking -- they don't call me Horseface for nothing -- then . . . so what? What exactly did you have to do with it?


Now it's important that we are all good stewards of the gifts that we have. Most of us have done a lot of squandering. Let's say that you're a good athlete and you practice hard and get better: I say good for you. That's something to be proud about. The definition of pride suggests that we can have a justified sense of our worth or accomplishments.


So when I bathe and comb my hair and some other attractive person says: "Lookin' good, Horseface!" I can reply: "Well, duh." All I'm saying is that it's OK to be proud of my good lucks, but when I get together with other really good looking people and we make fun of those who are not as good looking, well, that is completely wrong.

I'll try not to do that today.

Anger V. Patience

Anger: A feeling that may result from injury, mistreatment, opposition, etc.; it usually shows itself in a desire to hit out at something or someone else.

Wrath: Inordinate or uncontrolled feelings of hatred and anger.

(I'm putting wrath in because it was one of the original 7 Sins. There has been some tinkering with them over the years by popes and other dudes in the know. Also, I think that the word wrath looks like its meaning. It looks like it's going to come at you).

Patience: The bearing of suffering, provocation, delay, tediousness, etc. with calmness and self-control.

The thing with the 7 Deadly Sins, really, is that it all loops back around to fear. Men especially love anger. It's so manly to get really pissed off. I'm not suggesting that women haven't developed the capacity to pitch a bitch from time to time. I do live with SuperK, after all. I have personal experience, strength, hope, and stark, raving terror to share on this topic. Not now, though. I think she's lurking in the hallway, spying on me.


Instead of saying: "I'm scared," I can just blow my stack, yell and scream and bend things and threaten violence. It's easier than dealing with the fear, especially when I vent my anger at someone smaller and less violent than me. Try it with a child sometime; it's especially effective when you weigh 150 lbs more that the target of your anger.

I try not to do anything when I'm angry. As a general rule, I try to keep my mouth shut most of the time, anyway. When I talk, bad things happen. When I'm angry, I am a total idiot. Not a partial idiot. Full blown idiot.

Anger is the only one of the 7 Sins not associated with selfishness or self-interest.

I don't see how patience can actually exist in the realm that I inhabit.

Thinking About Me

Selfishness. That, we think, is the root of our troubles. Though if we think about it we usually don't think so. We don't think we behave badly and when we do, when even we can't ignore the fact that we are behaving badly, we resentfully seize on the fact that someone else may be behaving badly, too. It helps us to justify our own behavior to do this. Your mistakes are much easier to spot than my own, and much less painful to work on.

"Sure, I robbed that bank," I offer. "But their overdraft fees are ridiculous." This makes sense to me.

So our troubles, we think, are basically of our own making. Boy, is that true in my case. And the few troubles that I haven't caused by behaving badly generally fall under the Shit That Happens to Everyone category. Everybody has problems of money, sex, and power. It's hardly fair to raise such a stink when they happen to me. But my inner 5 year old -- the one that seems to run my life most of the time -- doesn't like it.

"Why did I get sick?" Little Horseface wails. "Why me? Why me? Why not someone else?"

You, for instance.

I do know that I am incapable of overcoming this selfishness on my own. Sometimes that pesky Higher Power comes in handy with this kind of heavy lifting. Mostly, though, my Higher Power puts a lot of work on my plate that I would rather have moved to your plate.

You have a very large plate.

Envy vs. Kindness

Envy: A feeling of discontent and ill will because of another's advantages, possessions, etc.; resentful dislike of another who has something desirable.

Kindness: Sympathetic; friendly; gentle-hearted; tender-hearted; generous.

In Dante's Purgatory the punishment for envy is to have your eyes sewn shut with wire. Ouch.

I don't want what I've got -- I want what you've got. It's not even that I want it, I just don't want you to have it. It's amazing how my sense of self-worth is determined so often by what you have. I can be perfectly content with my life, happily sipping a latte, when I see that you have 17 widgets. I pull the widgets out of my pocket and count 'em. 16.

Suddenly, I'm miserable.

Why I am so obsessed with comparing myself to others is a mystery to me. I've heard that envy is the only one of the 7 Deadly Sins that doesn't give a person any personal satisfaction. At least if you eat 4 donuts you get to eat the donuts. Presumably they taste good. Envy is when I get angry with you for having more donuts than me, even if I don't like donuts. I don't even get to enjoy the white, processed sugar, partially hydrogenated oils, and artificial flavoring that constitutes a donut.

Donuts. Is there anything that they can't do?

Tote That Barge.

Carry: To be a medium for the transmission of.

We talked about the "carrying the message" part of The 12th Step at today's meeting. I'm pretty dramatic about everything under the sun so I see no good reason why I shouldn't be dramatic when it comes to carrying the message. I figure if I can't help a hundred drunks all at once -- not help them, save their souls -- then I can't be bothered. I'm a big picture guy as long as I'm the only guy in the picture.


When I was new I traveled all the time for my job. I tried to go to a meeting every day even when I was out of town because, believe me, I needed to go. Every now and then I'd show up at a church and no one would be there. I didn't need great sobriety or even good sobriety to be at the meeting -- I just needed asses in the seats and a cup of coffee. I needed someone to listen to me unwind the tiresome minutia of all of the drama and tragedy I thought I had in my life.

It doesn't have to be dramatic. I usually don't even know when I've helped someone or put them to sleep. Show up, shake some hands, talk when I have something to say and keep my mouth shut when I don't , which is most of the time.

It's so hard to be this humble.

Sitting on my Ass, or Talking to god?

Semantics: The branch of linguistics concerned with the nature, structure, and, especially, the development and changes, of the meanings of speech forms.

Every 6 months I try to attend a men's 12 Step recovery retreat. It's a two day affair and the leader is always a Jesuit priest with long term sobriety. Some of those guys are pretty whacked out. One of my favorite retreat masters spent some time a few years back talking about prayer and meditation. Really, he was talking about god and how to find that dude or dudette. It's not intuitive for most of us, even if we have a long history in organized religion. We spend a lot of time in our recovery trying to go get god and wrestle him to the ground, and pin him. like we're Bobo Brazil in a Texas Death Match with The Sheik.


He explained how it was possible to find god where god lives. He talked for a while about art and music and nature. He believed that god could be found in those places or mediums. He thought that god was all around us, and not just in churches or books.


"Why do you think monasteries are built in the mountains or in the remote desert or sitting on a bluff overlooking the ocean or a lake?" he asked.


Those monks knew where god hung out. If you want to find god best go to his house. Don't sit on the couch and watch The Television and expect god to pop in, unannounced.


"So," I wondered. "I can sit quietly for an hour and listen to music that I enjoy and be communing with god?" Surprisingly, it made a lot of sense. I like to hike. I walk way back into the woods, tiring myself out, then sit down and hang out for a while. I'm not actually doing anything, but it's a great feeling. I feel part of something. I feel like I belong somewhere. Am I being lazy sitting there on my ass, listening to music or the birds or the mighty mountain lion about to sink his fangs into my neck?


More wanderings and wonderings. I am, once again, trapped in a loop of circular reasoning.

It's about being a tiny part of a bigger whole.

Sloth is on My Mind

I'm still rambling around the ying and the yang of sloth and service. As my friend Dud said to me long ago: "It's one of your ancient riffs. Rock on."

Most days I head down to my local coffee shop for my AM blast of caffeine. I sit outside, mostly keeping to myself, and I write and read the paper. Mostly though, I sit and watch the world spin by. I'm often at peace when I do this. I pray a little and try to meditate from time to time, but really what I do is sit and let my mind wander pleasantly. I'm relaxed and content and stopped. When I'm worried about something I often find that the solutions come to me during this time. I don't bring my PC or cell phone; I consciously make the decision to disconnect from all the crap that works to wreck my reverie. Let the world whirl.


People from The Program come by often to get coffee, and sometimes they have time to talk. A couple of guys pull over and stop when they see me outside. I've gotten to know the mostly young employees who run the place. I think that they like to see me. I get hugs. They say that they're glad to see me, anyway. I took an out of town friend to visit once, and he asked if I was a regular customer.

One of the employees, a college aged woman -- which does wonders for my ego -- said: "He's one of our favorite customers." It's one of the rewards of taking the time to get to know someone. I'm not generally interested in people until I make an effort to learn something about them. I remember to ask specific questions about what's happening in their lives. People always seem so surprised that I remember what they've got going on.

How do I put a value on this?

Greed vs. Charity

Greed: An insatiable desire to possess or acquire something to an amount inordinately beyond what one needs or deserves.

Charity: An act of good will or affection; the quality of being kind or lenient in judging others.

Greed, along with lust and gluttony, are sins of excess. I like the word "insatiable." It means a desire that can never be satisfied. I also like "inordinately," which implies desire without restraint or moderation. So throw out all of the 5 dollar words and we're left with a character defect that condemns us to the relentless pursuit of far more than we can ever use, and no satisfaction with what we acquire. No matter how much we get it's never enough.



Greed is desire that will never be fulfilled. It is a desire for so much of whatever we are trying to get that the whole concept is bent out of all recognizable shape. We talk about this all the time in The Fellowship when we discuss our disease. We talk about the holes in our being that can never be filled, no matter how much alcohol or drugs or sex or stuff we try to jam in.

And then there's sweet useless incompetent charity. I used to crush charity with the leather jackboot of alcoholism when I was drinking, and then spat on its prone figure. I couldn't be bothered with acts of good will when I was furiously shoveling things into yawning holes. I sought out charitable people, though, because I could usually get something from them. I thought I was bamboozling them; it never occurred to me that they were doing nice things because they wanted to, because it made them feel good.



Charity sounds like a prim schoolmarm from Tombstone, Arizona, in a sunbonnet. Charity would not do well against Greed in the Texas Death Match.

Sloth vs. Diligence: Death Match!

Sloth: Disinclination to work or exert oneself; sluggishness; indolence; laziness.


Diligence: Persevering and careful in work; hardworking.

Sloth comes from the Greek acedia meaning to neglect to take care of something that one should take care of. It infers apathetic listlessness or depression without joy.

I like the implications here. I always understood sloth to mean simple laziness. That's a big part of sloth, no doubt, but I can also see that there's a lot of nuance to being impressively slothful. It's a many-tentacled defect; there are a lot of nooks and crannies to explore.

How do I sloth thee? Let me count the ways.

Being lazy sounds like a reasonable thing to be from time to time. I can see having a long week, feeling a little worn out or run down, and taking it easy for a day or two. Sluggishness, on the other hand, doesn't sound as socially acceptable. It sounds like what happens after you eat an entire large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese, and then what happens to your plumbing. I can't see myself saying: "What am I going to do today? I think today is going to be all about joyless depression."

It seems that you should be able to turn your motor off and idle in one spot for a while without being called lazy. This is not intuitive for me. I have a need to be Productive! I think that I should always be Accomplishing Something! I think that I can sit quietly with myself and contemplate life or god or my navel and not be lazy. I think that I can rush around in a non-lazy whirlwind and lose my spirituality.

Every now and then someone that I'm talking to about doing some work on their recovery will toss out this excuse: "I guess I'm just lazy."

"No," I say. "You just don't want to do the work." There's a big difference. I rarely meet lazy people in The Fellowship. Most of us are in constant motion. We succeed and we get a lot done. We aren't lazy -- we're willfully contrary. We don't do things because we don't want to, not because we can't stir up enough energy.

Sloth is a failure to use my talents -- such as they are, should I be able to find any -- to the best of my ability. It implies a willful refusal to enjoy the goodness of god and the world that god created.

I have so little idea what I'm talking about most of the time.

Service or Spirituality, or Both?

Tarmac: (Ed. note: not in my circa 1971 dictionary. Apparently the tarmac didn't exist then).

I wonder sometimes what it means to live a life of service, a spiritual life. If I didn't have to work, could I sit on my deck, slack-jawed, and stare into the distance? That doesn't sound too spiritual especially since I don't have a deck. I'd actually be sitting on the tarmac, which is a great word, a truly world class word. Could I sit there half the day, or for an hour or two? What if I sat there, jaw totally not slack, and tried to pray and meditate? That sounds spiritual but then, am I being of service to the world as I pursue my own spiritual growth? I can't see a huge difference between the two situations despite the differential in force being exerted by my clenched jaw muscles. They both sound a little selfish.

I wonder how monks view the worth of a monastic lifestyle. A part of me is impressed that they are so committed to their spiritual growth but another part --possibly adding up to the entire whole if you add it to the first part -- wonders if they're simply hiding out to a certain degree. If I didn't have to work to buy food, should I volunteer at a non-profit organization? That seems pretty servicey but what if I worked 60 hours a week, totally depriving myself of time to enlarge my spiritual life? Being a guy with a big, hot engine revved way up high I bet I'd go overboard with my hours.


One of the keys to happiness that constantly pops up on lists and in how-to books telling you how to be happy is to have work or interests that you find fulfilling. That sounds like a heavy order. Interesting and fulfilling? Whew.

More AND Different

Discontent: Lack of contentment; dissatisfaction; restless desire for something more or different.

When I take a look at what I've written over the last few years I have to laugh. There is definitely a dark tone that bubbles to the surface, despite the jokey veneer and sarcastic asides. I'm actually a fairly happy person. Mind you, I'm not always a contented person. All that prayer and meditation has certainly made me more contented, just not totally contented. I don't think that's ever going to change. I think I've gone from being restless, irritable, and discontented to just being restless. I'm never going to sit down and contemplate my navel. I'm always going to wonder what's around the corner.

I was the kid who could see the evil potential in everything. I grew up in a family that was always warning me that something could go HORRIBLY WRONG! They would have found something to be depressed about if they won the lottery. I was the one poking my stick in the dark hole, not chasing butterflies in the sunny meadow drenched in morning dew. I wanted to find the monsters, or at least imagine what they looked like. I could see the tragedy in life, not the comedy, unless it was tragic, dark comedy.

Nothing went HORRIBLY WRONG! today now that I think about it.

Sloth Will Be Tomorrow

Good: Enjoyable, agreeable, happy, etc.

I think I'll start with sloth as I study, for my own personal edification, the 7 Deadly Sins. Maybe tomorrow, come to think of it. I'm a little tired and don't really feel like it. It sounds tiresome. Maybe I'll take a nap instead. I'm bushed.

I saw the following slogan in Mexico recently: "Fight apathy or don't." It was spray painted on a wall. I don't condone this kind of vandalism unless I'm doing the spray-painting, which I wasn't in this case. They confiscated my cans of spray paint at customs. Still, it's a pretty funny slogan.

Maybe some day I'll write about the Seven Holy Attributes, too, but probably not. I get uncomfortable thinking about good behavior. Good anything makes my skin crawl and the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It makes me feel guilty. I feel like something's wrong when everything is all right. Things can't be going well when they're going well. And if they're going well something bad is just around the corner. Something is sure to go HORRIBLY WRONG!

It's OK when things are OK.

The 12 Commandments

Apparently when it comes to The 7 Deadly Sins and related matters I have no idea what I'm talking about. Unfortunately, this has never caused me to stop talking in the past. I figure if I opine forcefully and loudly, throwing in references which may or may not be based on fact, and respond wrathfully if questioned that I'm going to convince a certain percentage of the population that I am, in fact, correct.

Spandex provided me with a number of excellent corrections and filled in areas where my information was sparse. First of all, there are seven corresponding virtues, and he prays for them each morning. I worry about that boy. Anyone who is interested in The Bright Side has some serious problems that he's suppressing. Apparently church people really do concentrate on everything that is positive in life. This is why I never try to tell anecdotes pre-sobriety: my memory sucks. I sat in church year after year and have no recollection of anyone talking about virtues, unless it had to do with sex, which I wasn't getting any of anyhow, compounding the whole situation.

And there really are minor sins. They're called venial sins. I guess you can do these and get away with it. I couldn't find a list of venial sins, although I noted that deadly sins result in the complete separation from god and eternal damnation in hell, which doesn't sound like a good thing. And the number 7 corresponds to the 7 days in the week. Apparently there is a reason for the 7.

Also, I added jealousy to the list and left out something else, probably sloth.

Finally, a number of people pointed out that there are actually 10 Commandments, but not as many as you would think. Apparently I wasn't the only person daydreaming in church.



"Yeah?" I said loudly, forcefully, drawing myself up to my full height, voice starting to quiver with barely suppressed ire. "Maybe you want to back that up with some actual facts?" They were able to absolutely bury me in facts immediately. A huge number of facts.



"Well, I said. "Sure, those are the church commandments of which I realize there are 10. I was talking about the Horseface commandments. There are 12 of these and a few corollaries and two or three rules, including Rule 62. In fact, Commandment 11 is 'Get the %#$!! off my back.' "

Don't tell my mother that I said there were 12 Commandments.

The Horsemen 4 and The Sins, Deadly, 7

Deadly: Causing death; tending or liable to cause death; fatal.

I feel like taking a spin through the 7 Deadly Sins. God forbid I'd write about gratitude or happiness or any of that kind of crap.

I'd like to start by asking: why 7? Seems like an arbitrary number to me. I bet I could come up with a few more if I put my mind to it. I say stop at 5 or go all the way to 10. I'd accept 12; after all we have the 12 steps and the 12 commandments. Maybe this is all based around Snow White who had, I believe, 7 dwarfs, although this is probably not what Walt Disney had in mind. There are also 7 innings in a high school baseball game and seven colors in the rainbow if you believe that indigo and violet are different colors. I don't.

I'm going to assume that we are just scratching the surface with sins. I bet that there are a whole lot of minor sins out there. Deadly is deadly. I would think there are things you can do that are kind of bad, not fatal bad. Anger is deadly apparently; maybe you can be a little pissy or bitchy, not full blown angry, and stay alive. Seems reasonable on the surface.

Don't you wonder why no one has come up with the Seven Glorious Benefits? All this fascination with the black and the negative -- we're definitely a society which puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Side. We don't tend to say do this and be happy, preferring warnings of the dire consequences of poor behavior. We come up with eternal flames.

During my Quiet Times I try to imagine the 4 Hideous Horsemen engaging in the 7 Deadly Sins.