I've seen the meme floating around about "Name 3 accomplishments for 2018." My problem is that accomplishment indicates that I did something in 2018. As if!

No, the truth is that 2018 was more about subtraction. My circle of friends got smaller. My job will be changing, as will my location. My hobbies? Spending? Other nice coping mechanisms acceptable to Western white Christians? Heh, all needing to decrease.

I'd like to think that the fire of 2018 is done burning, and that 2019 will be a year of abundance. I'm tired of writing melancholy-tinged blog posts, tired of complaining. But the fact is, I had a long-term girlfriend and a good future at my workplace on December 30, 2017. I now have neither.

I have indeed enjoyed the positive coverage of "Thank You, Next," as pop culture did need to be reminded that ex's can often serve as lessons and inspiration. Too often we've been taught to see ex's as mistakes or dead ends. Plenty of people could bless us and yet not be the one for us. And nostalgia can be a healthy drug. Why burn bridges out of spite? That's more the actions of an immature person than an adult.

But sometimes there is no meaningfulness to something. This is now my fifth year in Pennsylvania. I'm 95% sure I'll be living elsewhere by summer of 2019. And what's true (and sad) is, once I'll leave, I'll probably never come back. There's not really anyone or anything to come back for here. No, I did make some acquaintance friends, and found nice places to hang out at: I'm not angry or bitter. But there's just no reason to be sentimental about this area, and this is coming from someone who loves to be a sentimental slob.

This summer, I ran into a bit of a hard time. You know how it is when you're running a certain distance, and then you find out you need to run "just a bit more" right at the point where you thought you could stop? That was me.

So I found people to support me: a close male friend here, a female friend who just happened to be going through something similar there. And I managed to get through the summer. And I got through that extra mile.

But I find myself oddly resentful about it all, that I couldn't carry my own burdens, that I couldn't run my own race. There's a certain hidden narcissism in martyrdom, in wanting to sacrifice yourself for a cause or others. There's an odd sense of shame that someone else might want to give themselves for your sins, even if merely in reciprocity. I'm being forced to confront my own weakness at the very point that I thought I could move past such things, and I don't care for it. Humph.

Had an odd experience tonight. I've been rethinking my career lately. I remember in the old blog days, I tried to hide what I did. That made sense at the time, but by now most of you know I work as a professor.

The problem I'm running into is the scary thought that maybe I don't want to teach anymore. That the will and desire to do so has left me, perhaps even for several years now, but that I'm so stupidly dutiful, beholden to the past, or stubborn in habit that I haven't confessed it to myself.

I was watching a movie tonight, and the main character admitted that maybe he was going out of business because he didn't really want to do that work anymore. And it resonated with me, to the point that I teared up during this not so serious, not so sad movie.

I am not ready to stop being a professor, yet. I gave five of my best years, 22-27, to chase the dream of being a professor. I went on one (1) real date in 5 years, and yes, some of that was my choice/their choice, but that is how dedicated, how passionate I was to my field. (And I looked a lot better then, heh, although my sense of fashion was...what's the word for worst than abysmal?).

But some dreams must die, and I'm trying to get myself used to the idea now. My career has become a part of me, it's part of my introductions to others. Here's a frightening stat: since I turned 5, I have spent 0 years without going to school, or working for a school. So please, wish me the best, as I try to figure out (sigh) WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT (sings song in head).

I'll try to write on here more often. I had a complicated first half of 2018, and felt creatively drained. But what can I say, I'm a sucker for nostalgia, and it's nice to try to create when I can.

Creativity became an obsession around, maybe, 2008 or so. I started seeing myself as a creative person, with interesting ideas. I started feeling this way in graduate school, which made me think differently about myself and the world. I had never written a book or even significant short story except for school and a competition or two. Yet suddenly I thought I could write, and I relied on creative conversations as a way to escape the mundane and mediocre.

So I've always seen myself as pursuing creativity. But in the last year, I've been feeling my creativity disappear. Maybe for good reason, as I tried to be more productive, responsible, and intelligent for my job and girlfriend's sake. Was creativity an old friend who had outlived her usefulness? Was creativity merely coping mechanism for those cold New York winter nights, a nursery rhyme to soothe a cranky baby?

I suddenly find myself asking if I do have a creative future, if my life is better off by discarding the highs and lows brought on by creative striving. And I realize now that many of my creative friends and inspirations have long since faded. I miss it. But is this the price to pay for consistency and reliability?

I apologize for triggering language in making my points here:

Oh, you know how it is, always wondering if I have been merciful enough, then becoming angry that I've allowed the guilty to go free again. Many of my internal debates are in some ways about whether I've done justly enough, whether I've been bold enough to live up to my standards. But then, I also know the importance of mercy and forgiveness. How do I "Do justly and love mercy" at the same time?

Well, for many of us, we're most judgmental when we're doing well, right? It is easy to judge the poor when you are rich, to judge the less scholarly when you're getting all A's. So we already know the first trap: being more judgmental when we are doing well. Instead, we should be more merciful when we have been given more. The strong should surrender his strength, money, and time to the weak.

But here's something more subtle. Perhaps we are a little too merciful when our lives are not going well. We are more willing to let ourselves be abused, exploited, or mistreated when we are struggling, when we perhaps think we deserve our low state. Violate me once, shame on you, but then I'm more willing to accept violations from others once the initial violation has made me feel less worthy. Or maybe it's the maneuverings of guilt, seeking to buy penance with our money or other things, to cover our guilty steps.

What's my point? Just because I may be down doesn't mean it's ok to kick me, or that you should join me. And just because I'm up doesn't mean that I should forget for a moment how temporary it all is, how earnings or brains or sex appeal can disintegrate so painfully quickly. Judge from your weakness, if at all, and be willing to surrender in your strength.

The year is 2011. You want to write an aggressive post, promoting your demographic or beliefs, or putting down another group. You log into Xanga.com, or maybe it's already blogger, or wordpress. You start the blog...but then you stop. Because you think of your friend who will object, who belongs to that group. Or you worry that someone in the community will read your post and start a fight over it, a fight you may not win. Your site is not safe enough for your attitude. So you back down.

But now the year is 2017. Your last overtly Republican friend defriended you in 2016. You're on Breitbart, or Jezebel, or another site that strictly caters to your viewpoint. Even if someone does try to disagree with you, a moderator will delete them, or their comments will be buried in thumbs down and minuses from people who agree with you. You finally have a safe space to tell us how you really feel about the Jews, the Christians, or white men.

And so you become radicalized. Oh, you don't use that term. No, no, the other side becomes radicalized. That's for them Muslim terrorists, not for a good American boy like you! You don't even realize the extent to which you no longer tolerate dissent. You can't listen to CNN anymore, or go to your old church. They aren't direct enough, they are too soft and mild for you now.

The year is 2020, and we'll be calling up each other's workplaces, trying to get "The Other" fired in the name of our god. The year is 2020, and you're telling me that 4chan methods of vicious trolling are not just legal, but right and good against the enemy. No, wait, we won't have to wait until 2020. It's already in progress. Because my space can only be safe if your space is being diminished, if the walls are closing in on your freedoms, your rights.

Happy 2017, everyone! It's been a great year! Heh.

The Harvey Weinstein news is shocking and depressing, sure. But what makes it worse is that it seems like he had a mini-army of staffers, directors, and partners who helped him. Woman after woman recounts a similar story. She went with others to a meeting with Harvey. Those "others" would suddenly disappear or be dismissed by Harvey so he could be alone with the vulnerable woman he targeted. So why did that mini-army help him?

And mind you, this isn't about the gender or character of those people. I just wanted to talk about a concept that has been in my mind lately. The way that the little flaws we tolerate in people can lead to overlooking crimes and huge problems.

So I overlook the time you yelled at her, or you smacked him (but only once, and with an open hand, not a fist), and I tell myself you had a bad day. I'm a Christian! I'm forgiving! right? But then, what else have you done in the shadows that I haven't seen? If you misbehave like that in front of me, what have you done behind me? That staffer for Weinstein probably tried to tell themselves that nothing would happen, that Harvey just wanted to discuss business in private. But surely they knew better, after the nth victim? Were they unable to change their mind because they felt guilty for the victims who already had suffered? That's crazy, but that's how escalation of commitment works, in some ways.

There's just a bizarre logic that happens, that once I overlook or partake in some small vice with you, I've now signed up for all your crimes. It's a common theme in literature, and it's worrisome. And we're seeing it now with celebrities, with politicians. People just can't quit Chris Brown, or Chris Christie (lol) or whatever other person it is that they once liked. We can't get off the elevator after the first few floors: no, we need to ride it to the bottom.

Sigh. Escalation of commitment is a real phenomenon. Part of being a good human is being able to bite the hands that feed us, once those hands are proven to be false.