2/15/15
Carlsbad, New Mexico
Well, this is it, the big one.
My readers who are familiar with Aristotle’s Three Laws of Thought will
now which one is missing, and it’s the most important one: The Law of
Identity. “A is A, and A is not not
A.” “A thing is what it is and not what
is not.” “I am who I am, not anyone else.” It should be clear that I will be
focusing on that last statement in my philosophy section, in keeping with the
more casual approach I have been taking to exploring these laws and giving them
practical applications. The philosophy
will come later. Today was a very
important day for my new suit and water bottle.
It was their first (and second) National Park, and I think they enjoyed
it very much. Today, I did something
that I will never do again in my life. I
checked off two new US National Parks in the same day, and it was epic and
Official. I am freezing out here. Actually, I think the logical thing to do
would be to finish this entry in my car.
That is exactly what I am going to do.
I am not quite sure how to compare recovering from my New Year’s in
Quebec or realizing on the ship that I loved Vanessa like a sister to the night
in Ephesus before I headed to see the ruins of Artemis’s Temple or tonight,
after my two National Parks, about to head to a World Heritage Site in the
morning. What do they all have in
common? The 2012 Christmas Pipe of
course. Sitting here in my car is hardly
the same as, wait, my coat’s in the trunk, I can put it on and then return to
the bench outside. Guess I need to pause
again.
This bowl is going to be done even before I finish recalling the
events of the day, isn’t it? It seems
like a lifetime ago that I left my hotel in El Paso, stopping for gas, coffee,
and 7-11 on the way to the first stop, Guadalupe Mountains National Park. I put on “Speak Now,” which is an all-around
solid album, not a bad song into the entire album, but, excluding maybe the
title track, no great songs, either. During
my Eurotrip, I learned that the best way to make sure the highlights of the day
were recorded was to frequent smaller entries throughout the day. That was not an option today, not on this
schedule. I got my stamp and pin at the
VC before I headed to the hiking area. I
had the whole area to myself, so I knew that I would have no trouble making it
Official. I lit up my Montecristo
[correction, H. Upmann] and prepared for a 2.3 mile loop. Okay, this wind is ridiculous. The bowl is done, and I haven’t even made my
first site Official yet. It took less
than 15 minutes to smoke that bowl.
Indoors, it would have been close to an hour. Guess I’m going to have to pause once more to
go back to my room now.
That was pure fulfillment value, no enjoyment value. I should have just risked the fine and smoked
in my room. With no further ado, the
events of today. Smoking my H. Upmann
and blaring Speak Now from my pocket, I got on the trail. 2.3 miles should have taken me 46 minutes,
but with the elevation and stopping for pictures, it would be much longer, and
I knew the wind would kill the cigar long before that. I said to my suit and water bottle something
like, “Guys, this is your first National Park.
It’s a big day for you guys.” I
did not expect a response, nor did I receive one. A suit is a suit, and a water bottle is a
water bottle. It is not part of the
nature of a suit or a water bottle to be able to respond to a statement like
that. In yesterday’s entry, I wrote how
there are three people I text every day.
Today, knowing that I would be off the grid for most of the day and on
too tight of a schedule to have a proper conversation when I was on the grid, I
only texted one of them, and I only texted him in the following manner: a
picture of each Official Uer I used, along with a number, just as I did
yesterday.
When I texted him a picture
of a landscape with the next number, the meaning was obvious. I could Officially check off Guadalupe
Mountains National Park. I continued on
the trail until I came to a natural stopping point and did not think I had the
energy or time to go any further. With
the rest of my cigar, I turned around and headed back to the car. The views during the hike were breathtaking, the
elevation even more so. When I got back
to the car, I grabbed an Ashton VSG, took care of some other business that I
couldn’t do on the trail, smoking the VSG and continuing to blare Speak Now as
I did so. When I was done, I saw the
first person I had seen since I left the VC, and I was quite tired of Speak Now
by that point. I switched to RED,
probably her best album since the 2006 one, the one I listened to for 100 hours
in Europe and then for all the rest of my trips for the next few months.
As I was driving, I saw a sign that made my
heart stop: ENTERING CENTRAL TIME ZONE.
No, no, no, no. How did I forget
about that?!? My tight schedule had me
arriving at the first VC in the second NP an hour before it closed, the same
for the second VC. That was thinking it
was on Mountain Time. On Central Time it
would become a true Kotzebue Run. I did
not leave myself any time for food, either.
Would I have to cut out my second stop?
No, that would not do. There
would be no reason for me to ever visit Fort Davis NHS if I visited all the
surrounding units. This was a
disaster. Well, I made up lots of time
on the road, having more than enough time to pick up some chicken nuggets at a
Wendy’s and get to the fort almost half an hour ahead of schedule. As I was driving, I had a very scary
moment. My GPS was a little unclear
about what to do at a T in the road, a T that I did not even realize existed
until I was about 15 feet from crashing into something. I slammed on the breaks, managing to safely
make the turn after a moment of confusion and panic.
I got to the Fort, and my phone had lit up
with notifications. I was far more
interested in being back on the grid than I was with this old fort. I got my stamp and pin and took some pictures
while I smoked the rest of the La Duena that I had lit up on the road, but I
spent most of the time on social media.
Checking my updates and posting statuses caused me to go a little over
budget on time, but I was still half an hour ahead of schedule (technically
half an hour behind, due to the time zone).
On the plus side, it meant that I would get to the hotel an hour
earlier, an hour that I wound up losing to Dutch time once I arrived, but I’ll
get to that later. I plugged in the
first VC into the GPS, and it showed a driving time of 30 minutes less than I
had calculated, which would completely negate the time zone difference.
It was a boring drive until I was about 10
miles from the entrance, and my car started making a very strange sound every
time I braked. I know nothing about
cars, so I would not have been able to fix anything other than a flat tire, and
I didn’t like my chances of fixing even that, though I theoretically know how
to do it, in principle at least. I am
dead tired after my exhausting day, 15 hours of nonstop driving and
hiking. I might even take a little nap
before I do the philosophy part, but I need to wrap the adventures first.
I got to the National Park sign, and I
checked all the tires. They looked
fine. Oh, did I mention I was almost out
of gas? Well, apparently there was gas
inside the park, along with food. I was
starving. My readers know how hunger
makes me tired and cranky and even depressed sometimes. Today, I learned that it also makes me unable
to make a decision. Tiredness or drunkenness
might prevent me from making a rational decision, but hunger prevents me from
making any decision at all. I stopped at
the first VC and got my stamp and a pin.
I learned that it might actually be doable to get a third VC in, but it might
have meant almost an extra hour of driving just for the stamp, and there was no
guarantee I would make it in time. I
found myself hoping that I would get stuck behind a slow car so that my
decision was made for me. It was a crap
shoot. If the VC was opened 5-10 minutes
past close, I might have made it.
I didn’t
go for it, instead going straight into the main VC’s parking lot. Reader, recall that strange noise? It didn’t go away. I looked under the car, nothing there that
might be making that noise. Then I saw
it, some plastic thingy hanging down from the front bumper. I had somehow managed to dislodge it while
doing no other visible damage to the car, probably from when I went onto the
side of the road to take a picture at a sign.
I pushed it back into place, enough to stop the noise, but it still
looked kind of funny. Why is this a
problem? Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona
have something called Border Patrol Interior Checkpoints, places where CBP stop
all cars and ask them a few questions.
They are looking for drugs and illegal immigrants. Reader, if you were a CBP Officer and saw a
car with the plastic underneath the bumper dislodge, might you not think that
there were drugs hidden in there? Might
you not want to search the car? I had
nothing to hide, but it would be a long and nerve-wrecking process. I did my best to make it look normal.
I then went into the VC, getting pins, a
keychain, and a t-shirt. I asked about
the hiking options. He gave me a bunch
of different options, but I was too hungry to decide. One option had the best views, but it would
be too crowded to make it Official.
Another, by the north entrance, didn’t have great views, but it would be
empty. The third one, the furthest away,
would have good views and not be too crowded.
I couldn’t decide. I just kept
looking at the map and asking more questions.
The longer I tarried, the less of an option the third one would
become. The gas station had frozen
burritos to heat up. I was too hungry to
even decide which one I wanted, so I got two, along with a Coke Zero.
With my first bite, my strength returned, and
I decided instantly without even thinking about it, without even consciously
realizing I had made my decision until I saw that I was on the road to the
third one. The park is called Big Bend
National Park, named after the big bend in the Rio Grande River, which forms
the border with Mexico. The third one
was the one that afforded the best views of the Rio Grande, and it was closest
to Mexico. How could I not do that? That is what this park is. There were two places I wanted to stop, the Rio
Grande River Overlook, and the Boquillas Canyon trail.
When I got to the overlook, there was little
trail, and it was empty. I would be able
to make it Official overlooking the Rio Grande River. I lit up my Montecristo and started hiking up
the trail to the overlook. That was when
I saw another car pulling up. If I
wanted to make it Official, I would need to make all due course to get to the
top before they were within view. Well,
once I got to the top, it was possibly to keep walking down a bit, so I had no
problem making it Official, and the views there were great.
Once I finished the cigar, I would be able to
check the National Park off of my list, so I decided to go the Boquillas Canyon
trail to do a little more hiking with the rest of the cigar. Just one problem. There is the Boquillas Canyon trail, the
Boquillas Canyon overlook, and the Boquillas Crossing. The last one takes you into Mexico. I did not have my passport, and I did not see
any way of bringing a lit Cuban cigar back into the United States. “I don’t want to accidentally wind up in
Mexico,” I kept telling myself.
Cognizant of this possibility, I carefully made my way to Boquillas
Canyon, but I found myself at the overlook, not the trail. I took some pictures and continued to the
trail.
I did as much hiking as I had
cigar left. When it was time to turn
around, I asked my new suit and water bottle if they had a good day, saying that
it was a very big day for them. I told
them that there weren’t that many National Parks left to see but that I would
be taking them to see the rest. Again,
since a suit is a suit, and a water bottle is a water, I did not get a
response. That was it. I put my hotel into the GPS, changed the music
to 1989, and prepared to make my way to the hotel with all due haste. It was looking like a 9 PM arrival, 9:30 PM
if I stopped for dinner. I probably
should have stopped for dinner instead of driving nonstop for almost 4 hours. I am now hungry again, having eaten nothing
but crap all day.
I soon noticed a familiar
green vehicle behind me. I was going a
little under 60. The speed limit in the
park was 45. Was it CBP or a Park Ranger? If it was CBP, they couldn’t care less how
fast I was going. If I was a Park
Ranger, they might give me a ticket. I
slowed down to about 50. The vehicle
started tailgating me. Seriously? It passed me, and I saw that it was a Park
Ranger. They probably just wanted to get
back to headquarters or go home, it being 5 PM on a Sunday. The vehicle then sped up to 60, so I kept
pace with it, only for it to slow down to about 30 and put its siren on. Wait, was it going to pull me over for
keeping pace with it? I realized that he
was warning me he would do exactly that.
I slowed down to 50 and never saw him again.
Okay, I really need to wrap up if I want to
get a nap and still wake up before midnight.
I picked up another Coke Zero, an ice cream bar, and some snacks at the
gas station. I then headed to my hotel
without stopping, other than at the Interior Border Checkpoint, which I passed
with no hassle once the dog sniffed my car, getting to the hotel by 9 PM,
smoking a Tatuaje and an Aroma de Cuba en route. When I got to the hotel, I got caught up my
social media even before I got out of the car.
Then my brother called me to discuss some details about his bachelor
party. That whole process took me to
9:30 PM. Getting situated and filling my
pipe brought me to 10 PM. All the
hubabaloo with switching spots while I smoked my Christmas Pipe meant that it
was 10:30 PM by the time I got back up to my room, where I proceeded to write
this entry. Instead of being an hour
ahead of schedule, the hour of Dutch Time put me write back on my original
schedule. I will now pause for a few
minutes to rest my eyes before I continue with the philosophy section.
As soon as my head hit the pillow, I heard a voice (I won’t say whose)
ask me why I couldn’t just finish this in the morning. “Because I am who I am.” That is the crux of tonight’s entry. A thing is what it is and is not what it is
not. My pipe is a pipe, and it will
never be a suit. No matter what, there is
no way that I could wear that pipe as a suit.
It just wouldn’t work. While I
can use the pipe in other purposes, it is nothing other than a pipe. I could put water in the bowl and drink from
it, but that does not mean it is a water bottle. Likewise, a water bottle is not a pipe, even
if I could figure out how to smoke tobacco from my water bottle.
A pipe is not a water bottle. To claim that my pipe is a water bottle is a
contradiction. To claim that my pipe is
anything other than a pipe is a contradiction.
There are no contradictions. Point
to any object in this hotel room, and I can say that is either my pipe, or it
is not. There is no excluded
middle. What is it that prevents contradictions
and the excluded middle? The Identity
Law.
When people hear the word identity,
they think of who they are, how they define themselves. Good. “I
am who I am.” That is a statement that
will make sense to people who have never read a page of Aristotle. A person’s identity is comprised of all their
attributes, their strengths and weaknesses, their virtues and flaws. “I am who I am.” That means not only that I am the person who
is comprised of those attributes, but also all the paths that led to this
point. If you are happy with the person
you are, you cannot regret the bad things in life that brought you to that
point. If you are not happy with the
person you are, change it, and do not dwell on the past. There is no excluded middle.
The pipe will never be a suit. It cannot turn itself from briar into wool,
but humans can change themselves. If
there is a flaw you have that bothers you, change it. Otherwise, you must accept yourself for
exactly who you are and make no attempt to hide it. That does not mean that you should go
shouting every attribute of yourself from the rooftops. That does not mean you have an obligation to
reveal every detail about yourself to someone you’ve just met.
Reader, imagine I go on a first date. I sit down at the table and say, “I’m
Steven. I smoke 3-5 cigars a day, I don’t
care about strangers’ feelings, and I think abortion and gay marriage is wrong
from a moral standpoint (though I support it absolutely as a legal right).” That would be a supremely stupid idea. Unless the woman sitting across from me
happened to be Dagny Taggart wrought flesh, she would probably walk away, or,
if she stayed, it would only be out of curiosity. If I were asked for my position on gay
marriage, I would not hide it. I would
not say what I thought my date wanted to hear.
I am who I am, and I would make no attempt to hide it. Anyone who does so is a fraud.
To be dishonest is to commit an abdication
of self. You do not want need to be
totally honest with someone. If she
asked my ATM PIN, I would not lie, but I would not give it to her either. Now, reader, imagine that she was wearing a
hideous pair of glasses. There is no
need for me to say, “I hate your glasses.”
If she asked what I thought of the glasses, my first response would be
something noncommittal like, “They’re certainly unique.” If she asked for a straight answer, whether
or not I liked them, no excluded middle, I would have no choice but to honestly
tell her that I hated the glasses. To do
otherwise is an abdication of self. Once
you starting lying to someone because you think it’s what they want hear, you
have taken when step towards the destruction of self. However, if you lie about yourself because
you don’t think they would accept an attribute of yourself that you accept, you
are committing a complete abdication of self.
If you accept yourself for who you are, there is no need to ever deny
it. You don’t have to volunteer it, but
you should not hide it either.
Continuing down this path, I have long ago accepted myself as I am, but,
other than my few close friends and family, I have had trouble finding people
who accept me as I am. When I found a
girl who accepted me for exactly who I was, was it any doubt that I fell in
love with her? I did not love her for
her virtues, and that was my mistake.
The fact that I loved someone merely because they accepted me for exactly
who I was was as deep as an abdication of self as tricking someone into loving
me by being someone I’m not. Once she no
longer accepted me for who I was, I stopped loving her. I thought that I would love anyone who
accepted me for who I was. Three weeks
later, I found someone who accepted me for exactly who I was. Why have I not seen her since then? One simple reason. I did not respect her, and I could not have
respected myself if I continued to date her.
I am who I am. Despite the advice
of my brother and the guys at the cigar store, I would have forever regretted
going through with it.
Instead, I found
my Objectivist values again. That is who
I am, the consummate Objectivist. The
flaws I see in myself are the ways that I do not live up to the ideal of John
Galt, not the ways I embody his what might be perceived as “cold-heartedness.” Those nine people I mentioned in last night’s
entry, if some genie came up to me and said that I had to choose between saving
one of their lives versus a billion strangers, I would not hesitate so much as
a second to save the life of the person I loved versus 15% of the world’s
population. Each one of those nine
people provide me more value than a billion strangers ever could. That is probably an unpopular opinion.
Reader, think of the person, other than
yourself, you love most in the world. (I
will not say which member of my family gets that title.) Would you trade his or her life if it meant
the cure for cancer? If it meant you
could save a billion lives? For many
people it would be a tough question to answer.
For me, there is no hesitation, not for the nine people I have
mentioned. I am who I am. That does not mean I should say that to every
stranger I meet. I do not view that
apparent lack of compassion for strangers as a flaw. I view as a virtue the love I feel for the people
who have earned my love, the people who provide value to my life.
That said, I am not without flaws. I do not need to broadcast all of my flaws in
a public blog, but those flaws are things I want to change about myself. The things I view as my virtues I do not want
to change. Someone else might categorize
my flaws and virtues differently, but that doesn’t matter. They are not me, and I am not them. They are who they are, and I am who I am, and
that is why I planned this trip exactly the way I did, not the way anyone else
told me to. On that note, I will
close. Tomorrow I will be heading to the
World Heritage Site where I will tie these past three entries together.
No comments:
Post a Comment