half-truths, fibs and damned lies

A number of things have made me think about lying these last few days. Naturally one tries to limit the number of lies one tells (‘you look great’ always tends to go down better than ‘you look like shit’ for some reason) but I’ve discovered some people- who you least suspect – tell whoppers from time to time, usually to win a point of some kind. For example my completely trustworthy friend A____, the mother of one of daughter’s school pals, was telling me about her new 4x4 offroad car- is it diesel I asked. Yes she said. Now I knew it wasn’t because I had looked at the back badge the day before, but she obviously felt the need to impress me with its superior fuel (diesel is preferred in the desert)- even though I could easily find out and probably would. Weird eh? Should I confront her about this grave falsehood? No way!

My view is we all need a chance to lie from time to time with NO BAD CONSEQUENCES. I tell my kids whoppers on this principle- well they remember how I climbed Everest and then abseiled down the volcano like Bear Grylls when I got to the top- the first Englishman to do so. See- feels good doesn’t it? Or maybe not. Being LIED TO is a whole different ball game. You feel cheated and abused. The thing is- try to get into a mutual lying relationship with someone where you both REALLY APPRECIATE each other’s monster falsehoods. Kind of the reverse of most relationships I suppose. Others have similar ideas as you will see from the below- news of which prompted this post.

My Argentine friend Carlos Guiterrez has finally expanded his pointless lie parties to full pointless lie therapy sessions. Carlos believes we should not deny ourselves the chance to tell whoppers, as long as they are pointless. He thinks that telling lies that actually advance us is a bit pathetic not to say criminal or even addictive. He is against all this. His lie parties were all about breaking down the taboos on lying and there was no ‘call-my-bluff’ element where lies were revealed (which is great fun but different fun); instead the idea was to get people used to lying for fun as a form of relaxing leisure time activity. Lie therapy is for addicted truth tellers- those who can’t lie even to save a friend from the firing squad to take a somewhat extreme example. It is also a great way of loosening up for journalists and lawyers and other folk who are heavily penalized for lying professionally. Carlos is more well known for his art work and he was for two years an apprentice of Xul Solar. You can see his pictures at www.cgartba.es

Go on! Find a partner you can exchange pointless lies with today! Maybe you can even tickle each other too.

the age of ageism

We went to see a friend of the family in downtown Cairo and I was shocked at how she had reinvented herself as a younger woman. She’s 71- and nobody commented anything about ‘acting your age’. The old get to do what they want- including being younger in appearance- none of that subtle tyranny of teenagers here.

Ageism is in reverse in Egypt- everyone is desperate to be grown up and an adult. There is no advantage in being genuinely young at all (as opposed to looking 'younger' ie. healthier)- you just get kicked around and can’t be trusted to work. And you get paid nuts when you do get a job. You have to be polite to your elders or you get a smack on the head. Being young sucks.

Except amongst the tiny westernized ‘elite’ who speak English and mimic the sentiments of the ‘decadent’ West – I live in a ‘posh’ (ish) neighborhood- it’s the only place in Cairo I’ve seen vandalized cars and ‘ghetto’ style spray painting. In a real slum people are far too sensible to waste money on expensive aerosol spray paint.

Ageism is several things conflated which makes it a confusing subject. First there is the unavoidable fact of physical aging. It happens to everyone and that’s that. However it also provides external signs which can be used as a badge of seniority or, the reverse, a sign of being ‘not young’.

This has relevance to the notion of ‘being looked after’. In the ‘undeveloped world’ where there is poor state provision of health and schooling, people most commonly want to grow up and be competent and strong. In our world, where there are brilliant (by comparison) schools and hospitals, people (to generalize) still yearn to be looked after. This desire can appear as its reverse- so it’s confusing.

Young people 'reject' society, but this is a symbolic rejection (a real one would be going off and starting a new life somewhere else) rather like the 7 year old who packs his suitcase preparatory to 'leaving home' after an argument with dad over TV watching. The rejection serves in reality to more clearly designate 'the parent figure'. Our desire in the West to make parenting less authoritarian results in some kids 'pushing' their mum and dad until they get the angry authoritarian response they desire- the one that means Dad's in control, I needn't worry.

The James Dean rebel without a cause posture- new in the 50s, fairly familiar now, is set up conventionally as a boy rebelling against authority. But in fact the childish games of james are really a reflection of the immature need for a strong father to ‘take care of him’. He seeks out Buzz- who might fill that role- and then himself becomes the pretend ‘father’ of the girl and the scooter kid when they hole up in the deserted mansion. The funny thing is, this film seemed really lame when I saw it aged 16, but later viewings grip me much more strongly.

Why is prison so popular these days? Someone takes care of you. I envisage a new kind of prison where men are sent out alone into a vast area of the tundra after having been on a survival course. Those that make it are released…I jest...

Back to ageism. Rejecting those of a different age group- be they younger or older reflects this covert desire to set up a group designated: ‘parents’. Parents are usually older so the two- aging and parenthood get conflated- except they are different.

The desire to maintain this mythical ‘parent group’ long after you have left home is a sort of cult behaviour. Instead of embracing equals, co-conspiritors and brothers one seeks to orientate oneself towards the group who will look after us.

Except it doesn’t exist. Not even a wonderfully eloquent new president who looks and sounds like the ideal modern dad can make it exist. He’s winging it just like the rest of us.

(Tip for a man entering politics: project the image of ‘brilliant dad’ and watch the punters vote for you. This must explain the success of early Blair and Boris and the failure of Brown.)

I am fascinated by ageism, attitudes to age and ageism throughout the ages. What’s so bizarre is that it’s the one indisputable fact about all of us- we will get older and die. But for something so indisputably part of life- a huge number are in denial about it. Imagine people pretending they didn’t have to eat…eating in private and giving people who munch in public a hypocritical hard time. Imagine people pretending they never go to the lavatory. I suppose the nearest we get to this strange denial of aging in ourselves is the Victorian denial of sex. The closest a ‘young’ person comes to acknowledging they will age is to admit it happens to others. I use ‘young’ in inverted commas because when I was younger I always thought youth TV, youth books, youth mags as incredibly trivial and insulting. I wanted to grow up and be like all the other grown ups in history! I still do!

Yet the most annoying aspect of ageism is being co-opted by ones age equals into the game of ‘being old’. My friend Steve is brilliant about this. When I attempted a humorous line about deteriorating eyesight he brought me up sharp, “That’s old talk man!”

My main theme, here, is, however, the great insight provided by Arthur Deikman MD (The Wrong Way Home- Beacon Publishing) which is: that ageism is actually an infantile urge to want to remain ‘looked after’.

This insight hit me, in the words of Marlon Brando in Apocalypse Now, ‘like a diamond bullet between the eyes.’ (I will return to this film reference in a minute): in the developed West a good number of us want to be ‘looked after’ for ever. The simile used by Deikman is the feeling of being on the backseat of the car being driven home by mom and dad in the evening – you are sleepy and totally trust them to get you home. But wake up and smell the coffee, or the burning oil- there isn’t anyone driving! You’re not a kid anymore. And never ever will there be someone taking care of you. This fantasy is so deep rooted we unconsciously seek out authoritarian figures even if we have to misbehave (insult a cop today) in order to get reminded of it. We seek out corporations to take care of us- in return we sacrifice our marriages, kids, independence- for what? All these are instances of cult type behaviour- which may find its most extreme form in people who want a cult to take care of them and be like a family, but actually it is all around us in the simple refusal to accept that life is about growing up so that you can take care, not only of yourself, but of others if you have to. I often think of an off the cuff remark by the Russian philosopher Gurdjieff- a real man can support 15 others…

Remember Dennis Hopper as the journalist in Apocalypse Now (knew I'd get back to that film)? “He’s a big man, I’m a little man,” he says of Kurtz. But that is part of the same fantasy as ageism- that somehow we can abdicate being fully human and dream of being ‘looked after’ by the ‘big men’. Even nice big men like Barack Obama.

more thoughts on tickling

How do you spot a person who will laugh when you tickle them? Hard, if not impossible. Therefore take the giant leap of tickling only those who look like they would be the least likely to laugh. This may turn tickling into a kind of aggression, but it's such a silly thing that it will be OK I think.

Tickling others meets opposition sometimes. People pretend not to be ticklish. That doesn’t matter- symbolic tickling is often enough, though I have found tickle proof people are more likely to succumb to ultra light tickling rather than heavy handed stuff.

Other people’s kids can be tickled in lieu of a right telling off. I see schools patrolled by teachers armed with long tickle sticks. Maybe not. But policemen should definitely tickle people who get caught speeding or shooting lights. Then let them off. Thing is- should we, the voting public, be allowed to tickle policemen? Maybe on one day of the year? Definitely we should have the right to tickle the politicians we elect.

There are cases of people being tickled to death. A kind of torture. Like anything, in the wrong hands, tickling can be turned to evil purpose. But it’s not very likely though is it?

Celebrity tickle is a show I envisage where celebrities who wish to promote their latest dvd, comic role, song have to submit to being tickled by their fans. Folk in the TV audience do it too.

The Big Tickle is a reality TV show where people are fed a diet of food, drink and exercise that increases their susceptibility to being ticklish. Then masked ticklers wake them up while they are sleeping to tickle them. OK, sounds like torture- but aren’t they all?

To raise money for charity auction off the right to be tickled.

the will is overrated

I’m through with goading myself. It’s wearing and tiresome and makes life unpleasant.

On the other hand, like everyone, I have stuff to do I don’t want to do at the time I have to do it even if I know that ‘it should be done, I want it to be done, and no one else but me is going to do it.’

But this time, instead of biting the bullet and goading myself into action (and the inevitable re-action ‘hmm shouldn’t I check twitter first etc’) I decided to take a step back and think myself into a better frame of mind. And it worked- I made that phone call I had been avoiding. Trivial? I didn't think so. “Life’s progress is marked by such small but significant triumphs” as Mark Twain put it.

When you next have something you don’t want to do, instead of willing yourself – try and think what you need in your head to make you want to do this thing of your own free will. Take a step back and use your imagination and lucid dreaming ability (day dreaming in a relaxed state) to summon up some thing, idea, cluster of ideas, image, something funny, or fun,  anything that would get you doing this thing effortlessly. Maybe all that is needed is a mood shift from irritable to enthusiastic. Maybe you can shift the mood simply through a positive conversation with someone or even writing a blog entry like this.

Adam Smith's impartial spectator

Adam Smith, the great 18^th century economist wrote a less well known book called the Theory of Moral Sentiments. In it he named the ‘detached spectator’ as the true guardian of correct behaviour.

The person within- an impartial and well informed spectator- has the ability to stand outside oneself and see one’s actions- the person within- not conscience which is either accusing or patting you on the back- simply an observer. This is a key breakthrough long ignored by other philosophers.

What he meant was the ‘observing self’- the part of you that is able to detach and observe (sometimes) what the rest of you is doing.

Encouraging the observing self is the goal of most mystical and meditation oriented religious practices. The sheer sense of freedom that occurs when you realize that your identity includes an awareness of other ‘selves’ and that you are not merely an externally defined person, this realization comes as a great relief to many. By not ‘holding onto thoughts’ but simply observing each one as it takes up residence in your head you can gain a sense of detachment from the thoughts you previously thought ‘were you’. An angry thought takes possession of you- if you observe it as ‘there is an angry thought’ you have gone a long way to defusing that anger.

When time seems to rush on by it helps to be able to observe the thought that tells you ‘time is rushing by’. Then you can self-observe the structure of thoughts that supports this feeling. It is great way of weakening the grip mechanical time has over you and replacing it with a much more elastic view of time.

zenslacker #5

Zenslacking is a course of therapy for those caught in the riptide of modern life...here is another installment:

1.    Are you happy? If you’re not sure then you need to do more Zenslacking. Stay on the bus a few stops too far and then amble back. If you never take buses, take one.

2.    Sometimes things don’t work.

3.    If you are slightly depressed observe it and revel in it for as long as you can.

4.    Aim to watch a rubbish movie at least once a week. Preferably one you’ve seen and dismissed before.

5.    Whenever you feel competitive strive to win in a way that lacks all subtlety. Keep this nasty display up for as long as such feelings last- though it doesn’t work so well if people don’t get the joke.

6.    Force yourself to stay up late reading a book until it’s finished.

7.    Revel in the Beegees.

8.    Give small tips when you feel a strange and unwelcome vibe from an absent waiter that you should tip big because you are such a nice person.

9.    Call yourself a bastard, think of yourself as a bit of a bastard from time to time. Revel in this bastard self-image as a nice change from always thinking you’re the good guy, the nice guy.

10. Doing good is acting now. Though of course acting now doesn’t guarantee anything.

11. Say nothing when you are asked a question you don’t want to answer. Make no excuse. Just say nothing and smile benignly if you have to.

12. Feel free, when there are punishing consequences on the horizon, to tell a very obvious lie. If discovered elide your way past the glaring falsehood. The important thing is to keep moving, so to speak, not to allow yourself to be stumped- and this fact dwarfs the insignificance at being caught out telling fibs. Just keep talking until the moment passes.

caironomics

Walking past the butcher on Felastin Street I avert my eyes. Once we were best pals, bosom buddies, but then he realized his red dyed, sometimes fly studded carcases hanging from his shop weren’t drawing me in. I wasn’t tempted when he gave me a spiel on how much cheaper he was (and fresher!) than the plastic wrapped offcuts sold by the supermarket across the road. I thought our friendship would survive my economic nay saying. It did not. He blanked me next time so I thought, OK, fine and this went on until I appeared with my pal Steve in tow and the butcher gave me another burst of friendship. I didn’t tell him that Steve lived mainly on leaves.  Now this is unlike the furniture shop man who always says hello even though I never buy anything from him either- but I’m coming round to that table out back. I may. I just may.

So there you have your two types- well two of several- but they exhibit the psychological basis for the weird version of economics seen in this crazy capital. For a start- the butcher has greed, ambition but also pride. He knows I think his meat is strictly dog meat and he has pride- so he stops being pally- which ultimately is a poor strategy since I am unlikely to buy from a grumpy git nor will I recommend him. Now the furniture man on the other hand has less pride- and maybe it will pay off. It already has in the sense that I have recommended him now- he’s on Road 269 by the way.

I have seen pride at work in such exchanges as paying for photos in the city of the dead, the cemetery squatted long ago and a favourite spot for journalists seeking colour. One family will show off  a skull from the underground sepulcher they squat above, and pose with it for a few pounds. Next door will say no to twenty, to a hundred. Not interested at all. Pride.

Then there’s the apartment blocks. All round the eastern ringroad are stalinesque mini-towns of apartment blocks all built about a metre from each other. And these blocks remain unsold and empty for years-  five years at a time or more- and now there is a recession probably 25 years. This couldn’t happen in the UK. No one can tie up that much capital. But in Egypt greed of a different order is at work. People are convinced that eventually some sucker will turn up and pay a huge amount of money. No one will sell at a loss. They’d rather not sell. And there’s some pride in here too. Taking a loss is also loss of face. Better to do nothing. Buildings are cheaper to build and so is land, so the exposure is less than in the UK or parts of the US, but still, people will sit on their useless building for years.

Then there is bargaining. This reflects neither greed not pride but creativity. All businessmen know that the physical money itself- how quickly it is paid and in what form can also be part of the deal, but this knowledge is restricted to big business mainly- not down on the street. In Cairo they are more sophisticated. In the West the medium of exchange itself does not come into the act of shopping. Money is as liquid as water, but in Egypt it’s thicker, more like blood out of stone. You see, no one has any change. You bargain like a demon to get the cab driver down to 5LE. But your lowest note is a 20. The cunning fellow only has a 10. You either wait and watch him make a song and dance about getting change by snaring a passing cab or you do the usual thing and give in.

Always have change. When I left the airport the other day the cheapest taxi was a mere 80LE- but the guy is guessing I only have a 100- and he factors in the parking and the tip and soon I might as well not wait for his pathetic show of no change. Of course the change is always hidden under a seat or behind the sunshades. My new one is, though, to ask for the change first as if it were part of a different transaction, one that might even prove more profitable than the existing one under discussion. Then, with the currency on display I produce my big note and get my change immediately. Also change appears faster when you refuse to hand over the note in the first place.

What is economics anyway? A series of human responses to situations mainly involving money or scarce resources. Scarce resources- so how do Egyptians behave when things are running out? Rather magnanimously actually. On the plane disembarking there is none of that covert manoevring you get in the UK. Everyone is allowed to get off in front of you- if they indicate as such. If you make a pathetic sign that you must cross the road, cars will wait. If you make no sign and pridefully stride out you won’t be run down but it will feel mighty close. It’s like there are two ways here: the big boys way where you get to act with dignity but it involves a fight or power tussle and the easy way- which involves begging and self abasement. In the coffee shop where I write the main guy is a creep. I love him. He brings me the paper and asks after my family. I smile and give him a good tip. It works. But in another shop the guy is stiff and formal- and rather brusque- he gets no tip- but he doesn’t care- he’s got to act like ‘himself’ rather than an effete toady.

People can also ‘be themselves’ by being creative. A man in Siwa offered to restitch the welts of my Timberland boots with coloured thread. He proudly showed me the special needle he had to perform this task. Why not? I now have the only Timberlands with red and blue stitching in the welts. I saw other foreigners with similar weird looking restitched footwear. Cheap Chinese shoes mean that cobbling skills aren’t needed so he has reinvented himself as a sort of plastic surgeon of footwear. Creativity.

I think one way to unravel strange economic behaviour is see when a financial transaction is in reality something else- like an opportunity for attention, in other words, and this is not meant in a derogatory way, self-expression. In Egypt people inject themselves into their job to the detriment of performance but to the benefit of self-expression. They get to be themselves more- be they minibus drivers or waiters. Now in the developed world we crank down on that- self censor- anything to get that tip.

I admire a people who don’t bend over for everyone bearing the mighty dollar. It’s refreshing- and infuriating too. But that’s life.