Tag: Emotions

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Chronic Disease Internet Culture Media Politics

Day 803 and Killing Strangers

I’ve been one of those types that absolutely has no problem taking a shot at the Christo-fascists dorks at CPAC mincing words about eradicating trans people from public life. Fuck you, you fucking fucks, you absolutely would be fine if state sanctioned violence eliminated trans people. It’s not you being metaphorical or cute or whatever justification you used. It’s killing strangers.

I wasn’t any more amused when folks decided it was alright to discuss a cost benefit analysis of keeping the disabled alive within the context of state benefits. No thanks I am not interested in a mercy killing because I’m expensive. Oh it’s a mercy killing for children? Yeah no still good thanks. Fuck you Canada. Medicare for all sounds good up until you decide to put me on palliative care via the metaphorical ice flow of opioid addiction.

So you might imagine I am equally sensitive about someone making jokes about euthanizing people who pays their bills by investing in early stage startups. Oh it was just a joke about how Keynes didn’t like the rentier class? Hilarious.

I am just rolling on the ground laughing at your erudition. Yes, benefits of a classical education. Har har. It’s so much smarter than the CPAC guy who wants to kill trans women. Definitely smarter than those segueing to mercy kill sick Canadian children. Oh wait, no it’s fucking not you sick fucks. Stop killing strangers in your rhetoric for shock value and clicks.

Perhaps I could interest the Jacobin audience members in a trip back to the Opium Wars, funded by Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s grandfather, just so we understand the gruesome reality that the New Dealers saw first hand in their own family trauma. Or if we are pluming the depths of the historical animosity towards finance and it’s intense hypocrisy, I’ll send you back with a copy of my favorite conspiracy text Creature from Jekyll Island. Then we can have a nice big chuckle about blood libel if you make it back.

I cannot believe that I am writing about any of this social media blood lust but perhaps we could all listen to Marilyn Manson’s Killing Strangers together and decide that there is no clever or enjoyable way to advocate for the killing of strangers. That it’s not cute to joke about killing people you don’t know just to further your political or economic aims. I’ll try to stop joking about how it’s ok to punch Nazis.

I am baffled that I keep ending up in groups that become the target of the genocide curious. I know being a hysterical disabled white bitch is a pretty commonplace “kill them all fetish” and smarter minds than me can untangle how all roads lead to disability. Witches and bitches.

But I’m getting unsettled seeing how it piles up and I keep getting lined up in other people’s sights. I’m married to a Jewish man. I’ve got queer family members. And yes I make a living investing capital (that I raised from weirdos) into other weirdos. Don’t worry my AUM is small enough I can’t live off management fees. Ironically because I’ve got medical bills because I’m disabled.

If you don’t know what that means and you still want to kill m perhaps it’s you that is the psychopath. Just a thought. Not that psychopaths are bad it’s just that I’m worried you will act on it. It’s not always clear if we are the baddies but advocating for blanket euthanasia is probably a helpful marker. Just like as a baseline for civilizational norms.

Either way, I’m not letting any of you kill my queer disabled Jewish rentier bourgeois family members. I don’t care if you a Jacobin or a CPAC member or a pissed off narco-trafficker running Fentyl out of Toronto. If you want to kill me because I’m a stranger and you don’t want to hurt the ones that you love. Ok. But I’ve got no intentions of making it easy for you.

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Politics

Day 801 and Not Today

It’s been a rocky few days watching the crisis unfolding around Silicon Valley Bank and what would happen to its depositors. We’ve received our answer.

After receiving a recommendation from the boards of the FDIC and the Federal Reserve, and consulting with the President, Secretary Yellen approved actions enabling the FDIC to complete its resolution of Silicon Valley Bank, Santa Clara, California, in a manner that fully protects all depositors. Depositors will have access to all of their money starting Monday, March 13. No losses associated with the resolution of Silicon Valley Bank will be borne by the taxpayer.

So that’s been a wild and scary ride and I guess we are kicking the can down the road. But I wasn’t emotionally prepared for a contagion on Monday.

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Finance Politics Preparedness

Day 800 and Small Potatoes

It’s nice when a round number crops up in my daily journey of writing every single day. It’s even better when it’s colliding with the wider narratives of humans. If you aren’t paying attention to the news, Silicon Valley bank had a run on Thursday and was taken over by FDIC on Friday. Now the powers that be decide our fates. On day 800 we wait to see if anything has changed about capitalism.

I’m small potatoes so I’m scrambling for survival as much as anyone. But I’ve got a reasonably good head on me and I’ve seen this movie before. Literally. I watched Margin Call a dozen times this year. My family also went bankrupt in the 2001 crash and I was working in startup land during the 2008 crash. So this isn’t exactly my first ride on the roller coaster. I still get sick to my stomach though.

I think we are all about to have a significant conversation in America about trust and who is looking out for whom. I have my theories on how it plays out and over what time horizon. Very few of those scenarios and involves actually letting the american economy implode. But some heads will need to roll it’s just going to depend on the fates.

I really don’t feel like writing through some of this as it’s both personally traumatic because I’m a human being but also because I don’t know where this lands any more than you do. A lot depends on who blinks and who we want to scapegoat and how much we want to tolerate the unpleasant realities of who matters most. Not to be dramatic but every empire rests on a pile of skulls. It’s the degree to which this is literally true that changes over the years.

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Culture

Day 797 and Women’s Day

I remember a gentler more optimistic time when I received a “holiday” like International Women’s Day with some amount of positivity. I’ll grant it was mostly as an excuse for marketing and public relations but it didn’t offend me. Now in the harsh reactionary landscape of 2023 I fucking loathe it.

There was a time when I discussed issues like equity and inclusion and felt proud to ask for more space for women in the many male dominated spaces where I spent my time. I like startups, economics, math, science fiction and libertarianism so you could say I’m used to be one of the few women. And I never felt like I didn’t belong.

That is until I started taking up space. Once you’ve asked to be treated as not just one of the boys but as the leader of the pack you start to notice the snarls. Still I didn’t mind. Being top dog is always going to involve some fights. Let’s just say I’m glad women were allowed into the back door of the startup economy by handling Ecommerce. I didn’t mind having to earn my way in by playing in girly spaces like shopping. The money spends.

But I didn’t have to fight any men to do it. I found a way in on my own terms even though I might have preferred something a little less clearly marked as “for girls!” Because I’ve come to believe that no one wants a more diverse world. Diversifying industries that felt safe to men like startups was fought tooth and nail because who wants to give up ground that they fought hard to gain. I’m sure the men all bleed for their positions and nobody wants more competition. I get it.

It’s all a bit of polite fiction because the reality is power is always earned (or taken) and if you think life is a zero sum game you might believe me gaining power is your loss. I don’t believe in zero sum so I’m a little more “win win” but I get it. I see your pain.

So it’s with that dose of realism that I’ll ask you to pardon me if I am skeptical of the value of some corporate holiday to celebrate women’s contributions to the world. We are half the fucking planet. Of course we contributed to the fucking outcome! I don’t need a damn day for that.

Just because men kept women in the house (or cave or whatever) for a couple thousand years doesn’t mean we didn’t build this world too. We bore your children and made your food and kept the hearth.

We gave your dumb asses advice and kept you civilized because that’s what you asked from us. And yet somehow in modernity, men resented women for civilization even though you sure seem like you love the power and wealth that came with civilizing.

The new masculinity Internet influencers say it’s so emasculating to stop being brutes. It’s these women and their demands for respect and inclusion that is so burdensome. Fuck feminized society they howl. Return to tradition! Ok, so which one is it buddy? You want to be a warrior but you also like wearing those Gucci loafers too.

So yeah fuck all the way off. In fact, let’s get grosser. Suck my blood cunt. No one is buying me off with a holiday. It’s tacky. Like buying flowers for your wife after you did something bad. Just own up to it and fuck the flowers. Be a man.

So that’s my message on International Women’s Day. Be a man. It’s what everyone wanted right? Oh and suck my bloody cunt. Let’s stop with the special holidays and get on with building the world together. You know, like we used to do.

Categories
Emotional Work

Day 796 and Bedtime Revenge

I’ve been putting off writing basically all day even though I’ve had a number of topics that are completely in my wheelhouse show up in the discourse. For instance, how does one masturbate safely with extremely thin skin? Yes, it was quite a day for Elon Musk jokes.

But I just don’t want to write. I feel resentful that I have pushed this discipline on myself and I do not feel like adhering to any rules even the ones I set myself.

There is a concept in sleep psychology called bedtime revenge procrastination.

Revenge bedtime procrastination refers to the decision to delay sleep in response to stress or a lack of free time earlier in the day

I had plenty of time in my day to write and also plenty of inspiration for it too. But because I feel indignation about being constrained by any sort of discipline I decided to procrastinate.

I rarely feel this about writing but I do often feel the need to rebel against schedules or demands on my time. I felt tremendously overstretched as a teenager but it goes back even further to feeling like I was put into schooling and social situations that were too much for me.

It’s valuable to recognize these behaviors that originate in childhood. Most of our unproductive habits tends to be based on very early reactions we had when we were young and had little control. It’s called a reaction formation for those of you not hopelessly therapy-pilled like me.

Reaktionsbildung is the fantastic German word for it. You are likely familiar with its basic format. “A reaction formation is a defense mechanism in which emotions and impulses which are perceived to be unacceptable are mastered by exaggeration of the directly opposing tendency.” Thank you Wikipedia for that simple explanation. Basically your unconscious mind helps you rebel.

I think it’s unacceptable to be undisciplined. So I impose discipline. Even though I don’t actually lack discipline myself, my anxiety around how unacceptable it is to be undisciplined will drive a host of opposite reactions. Thankfully I’m aware and now the blog post is written and I can enjoy dinner with my family having conquered today’s demons.

Categories
Emotional Work Startups

Day 792 and Level Ups

I know I am courting a bit of a crash tomorrow because I can feel just how much energy this week took. But I am feeling emotionally like I leveled up. I looked at a few of my emotional patterns this week pretty head on and redrew some boundaries. And this always improves my work performance.

The upside of journaling your thoughts and emotions is you have a back catalog of your own thoughts to compare against your eventual conclusions. You can look back and spot patters in your thinking and tie them together. Writing everyday can be excruciating but I never regret having done it.

I have to always remind myself that it takes a fair amount of effort and a high tolerance for being wrong in public. You have to get used to people disliking you and finding you distasteful. People want to put their emotional response onto you and the hard work of being an adult is not accepting what isn’t yours.

If you can tie that kind of self reflection into your professional life you get all kinds of unexpected level ups. You tell people about your own responsibilities and they trust you with theirs. You get to build great things together by building on shares humanity. The best business relationships I have are the ones where we understand what value each of our personal lives brings to counteracting of own limitations and blind spots. I’ll always work with someone who leads with their humanity first. Big visions get worked out together by trusting each others talents.

Categories
Chronic Disease Travel

Day 791 and Bathing Suits I’ve Never Worn

I’m on maybe my third or fourth trip to a warmer climate where I’ve brought a Norma Kamali bathing suit. I bought it on sale from Net-Porter as I’d always wanted one of her classic one pieces. I’ve never worn it.

For the casual reader, I have a chronic autoimmune disease called ankylosing spondylitis. It’s an inflammation condition that affects my spine and is aggravated by heat & humidity. Any temperature above above room temperature, give or take 72 depending on the humidity, starts to swell my tissues.

It’s well controlled with drugs but environmental factors can quickly spin up a bevy of symptoms including pain so debilitating I can’t walk. It’s one of the reasons we moved to Montana. I can live a semi-normal life so long as it’s cold. I spend most of my days laying flat in bed or in a zero gravity chair. My disability has become one of the super powers I use to propel my investing alpha. Because what else do you do with your time if you can’t leave bed except monitor financial indicators and chat with founders?

But back to the bathing suit. The black halter swimsuit has turned out to be entirely an aspirational garment. It’s still got the sanitary sticker for the crotch on it that says remove before wearing. I left it in and it’s become the not so subtle reminder that I may never enjoy a beach vacation again. It’s simply beyond my grasp unless I want to pay an obscenely high cost in pain and immobility.

I dutifully pack the Norma Kamali suit on each trip with a warmer climate. I’ve taken it to Miami, Texas, the Mediterranean and Mexico now. For this trip to Puerto Vallarta I packed a second bathing suit. It’s a striped bikini.

I had a fantasy that maybe I’d need a second swim suit as the other would need to dry if I swam every day. Oh what self deception we humans are capable of when it involves something we cannot have but want. I’ve never put the second suit on either. It also has the sanitary sticker still on it. It’s beginning to feel like they taunt me. Isn’t it funny that Julie still yearns to participate in the simple pleasures of life. “That dumb cunt” I imagine them murmuring as I pack.

My father loves tropical vacations. An adults only resort on a beach is his idea of a good time. And for his birthday, my brother and I very much wanted to give him what he wanted. Part of this is self protection as he often forgets to ask after other people’s preferences even if they are for something serious like a disease or disability. Better to avoid disappointment than know for sure. But also if we can give him what he wants why not make the sacrifice? It’s expensive for me energetically but I wanted to spend.

But it’s become clear I can’t make the sacrifices desired for the perfect fantasy family vacation. The bathing suit gets tossed in the suitcase with the knowledge that I can only manage one event outside each day. It’s usually a dinner or a chat.

Then I must sleep it off and work to recover. There is no space for pleasant relaxation on the beach in my body. The compressed Lycra slowly battling the expansion of my tissues as they swell overlapping with stuck lymphatic liquids would be torture. There is no joy to be found and no extra capacity to be eked out that might make the experience mimic the pleasure in a healthy body.

The fantasy is just that. A delusion I have about a life a lost and unlikely to be regained. The after effects of fertility treatments, IVF and living hard to outrun the vicissitudes of capitalism. I’ve accepted it as my lot in life. But it’s much harder to get it across to the rest of the world. And my fear that I’ll be left out and forgotten, that if I don’t fit myself into someone else’s life I’ll be abandoned. And so I rationalize that I’d be abandoned if I don’t at least try to bring the bathing suit. Even though going to the beach is a fantasy.

I hope my friends and family are able to meet me half way but I remain afraid that they don’t know how, or are unable to imagine what it’s like to live in my body. And it would be nice to be met halfway.

Categories
Emotional Work

Day 788 and Duty

I wrote about six thousand words this morning at 5am about seeing your family for who they are and asking that they see you in return. I don’t think I can publish any of it even though it is a very raw piece of writing.

Today is my father’s 80th Birthday. He’s a rare early Boomer from the Silent Generation and he had me later in life with his second wife my mother.

I’ve got a lot of feelings about our relationship. I love my father. Like all of us, he has committed many sins, some of them against me. I have committed many sins against him. We are bound by an elaborate set piece of inter-generational trauma that has shaped us for good and ill.

I am bound by my familial duty to respect and honor the sacrifices he made. I am here to celebrate his life. But my feelings on it are more than I could articulate today and believe me I have tried.

It is my most solemn wish for his birthday that he finds forgiveness for himself as he did absolutely everything he could and I’ll forever be grateful that I was given these rare gifts.

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Emotional Work

Day 781 and Accelerating

I am accelerating into the turn that is my extremely busy life. The global weirding is upon us, as I’ve been predicting for more than two years publicly on this blog and even further back in the press and on Twitter.

I was initially afraid that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with a faster life. One reason we moved to Montana was to keep the pace of our personal lives calm and level so professional obligations wouldn’t overwhelm us. And yet as more and more obligations and responsibilities became part of my daily reality, I wanted to shrink under the weight.

But I am not shrinking. I am standing tall. Sure I feel like I’m failing every day and I hate the feeling that I could disappoint folks who have placed capital and trust with me.

I am however sure that over the time horizon I have set I am doing things the right way. Everything else is luck and repeating the positive daily habits that have produced results in the past.

I feel happy with the acceleration if I stop giving the fear any oxygen. I’m starting to remember how I used to wield my talents. But this time I’ve got the benefits of five years of emotional maturing from intensive family systems therapy. I see my old coping mechanisms and bad habits withering as I bring the full maturity of my emotional journey to bear.

If life is going to keep getting faster and faster then I suppose my only choice is to enjoy the thrill of acceleration and trust that I’ve done the work to stay on the ride.

Categories
Politics Preparedness

Day 779 and Future Shock

It feels like a lot of people are finally catching up to what a shit show institutional distrust has wrought on American society. Nobody trusts anyone and everyone is going tribal. The level of panic is feeling palpable across media narratives and we are being offered a choice to either get worked up or get on with our lives.

I will admit I feel a little bit smug on this point as I’ve been prattling on about doomer shit forever. But I also got off my ass and moved to Montana and starting picking up some skills so I could continue to feel like my life had some measure of resilience to it. I ain’t getting all worked up about the end of the world because I can’t live in perpetual anxiety.

Maybe it’s because my parents are hippies that it’s not a big stretch for me to imagine what happens when cultural conventions break down. The post war generation had a whole other set of traumas around social change. And a lot of splinter subcultures emerged from how they were specifically betrayed by all major institutions as well.

So I am reluctant to say this is new. Decline is a long slow managed process and new revolutions turn up all the time to solve our problems. I believe in human ingenuity.

But I do think we’ve sped up the pace of culture as we ramped up new technology as each new instance of connectivity has somehow also wrought alienation and anxiety. It’s hardly surprising that half of the internet is in a complete panic over what rules of the game changed.

What can I say except that it’s so satisfying to lie to yourself about how you benefit each time a cheat code is revealed. Perhaps just enjoy the power and get on with it. I don’t know what to tell you to do but find a way to make peace with it. Because otherwise you will be preyed upon. There are thousands of kinds of power and I suggest you find yours.

But I am genuinely concerned that we are headed to a further and faster and new types crisis of meaning as new rules get introduced, and every actor that desires to hold power will be running to capture it.

And I do mean everyone. It’s not that your tribe is good and the other tribe is bad, rather it’s hard for humans to trust each other with too much power. Independence is a very heavy burden and it’s insulting when you won’t carry your share. We’ve been negotiating the boundaries of it since Socrates got poisoned for corrupting the youth of Athens. And we still don’t have a good answer to what constitutes human excellence.