Sickly Musings

This past weekend I was hit with stomach flu and had a limited range of activities, chief of which was lying in bed and stewing in my own juices (figuratively).  Despite the nausea, intermittent chills and sweats, and pounding temples, I managed to derive some enjoyment from the ordeal.

For one, I prided myself on taking no medications whatsoever. This wasn't just to relish the pain -- which I do value, incidentally -- but because medication suppresses symptoms and thereby disrupts the body's immune response. This led me to consider how the supposed fixes for the economy are nothing more than symptom-suppression; the "experts" are so afraid of falling asset prices that they are doing everything in their power to artificially prop them up, which disrupts the natural process of excreting out economic waste and allowing supply to re-adjust to demand -- and which guarantees that things will be even worse later on.  Then I decided to dwell on the more specific news of late about the Boston Marathon. I could just imagine the media's frustration that the prime bombing suspects are not angry white homegrown conservatives, but rather young Muslim immigrants, and I ventured to guess that a leftist narrative would be constructed to give them a pass that the desired suspects never would have received (if what I've heard on the news today is any indication, I was right -- I didn't see "childhood bullying" coming, but that's a stroke of genius because it might place fault on white conservatives anyway!). Then I drifted from the specific back to the general, as is my tendency, and I recalled the infamous Boston marathoner Rosie Ruiz. Here is someone who got caught red-handed hopping into the race near the finish to claim a superhuman victory time, and more than thirty years after the fact she doggedly maintains that she won the race fair and square, and I'll bet she actually believes that she's the victim. The brain has an amazing ability to construct comforting fantasies; apparently, the pursuit of truth represents too selfless an undertaking for most people, but perhaps that's why an entire religion had to be founded to encourage it. Then I paused to notice that some of my chess buddies are reluctant to play me anymore, which mystified me at first because I always enjoy having someone stronger to practice against; for example, I've been invited to the state closed championship for the second year in a row, and I will enjoy the experience despite knowing that I will likely get my butt kicked.  But I remembered so many other times in life when something like this happened; the world belongs to charming mediocrities, and I guess I never have made peace with that fact.

It was almost unfortunate that I got better so quickly and had to bring these and other musings to a (temporary) halt.