It Must Be Nice To Be Perfect

You don't know how hard it is to be perfect. You have to put up with insecure, lazy dishonest people who try to insult you with shallow, self-revealing cliches in which they attempt to affect a higher moral ground.

I am not a perfectionist nor have I ever sought to be perfect. People who label me a perfectionist or a controller are people who express more on their limitations and failures in life than they express an insight into what motivates me.

All I have wanted to do since becoming an adolescent--except when drunk or horny--has been to not repeat mistakes that hurt others or me. When your mind is flooded with alcohol or hormones there is too often little room for remembering the lessons of life. Ask Rudolph the Red-Nose Clinton who never met a woman he didn't want to penalize. 

What is wrong with not wanting to hurt others? What is wrong with not wanting to repeat mistakes? What is wrong with wanting to become more of the solutions and become less of the problems? What is wrong with wanting to be a creator rather than a cancer of time? What is wrong with wanting to be a life-saver rather than a time-killer ?

Nothing is wrong with those who seek to live in accords with making what is right more often and what is wrong less often. However, others who lack integrity of intelligence and information--an insufficient iCube --feel the sharp edge of a life lived on the distant edges far from the center of doing what is right. One of the last refuges of these lazy, self-ignoble souls is to seek demeaning of those with the sharpened line between what is right and what is wrong.

"It must be nice to be perfect" tells more about the speaker than it does about the target of this invective. It is akin to the racist who shouts " Nigger " at a black person. Hurling an invective tells more about the source than the object.

I am not perfect. I have my imperfections that waste my time and the time of others. This is the nature of imperfections. Imperfections are simply a subclass of time-wasting problems, that is, personality limitations. Of my imperfections, unfortunately, they are like my opinions. I don't share my opinions with others. Why? When facing hypocrisy, one should not tell the truth. If a listener will harm you when you tell them the truth then you are justified in being a liar--see situational ethics.

Only someone of an equal integrity of intellect and intelligence (iCube) can accept another's opinions or imperfections. Anyone of a lesser iCube will not see any possible logic or reason in the opinion. Likewise with my imperfections, I suffer a lifetime sentence till I die because I cannot share my imperfections to gain possible freedom from another's insights or suggestions. There is no "another." This is akin to how I did not murder my mother with a knife: As I could not fathom the enormity of the urge it was a mental block to understanding and resolving its origin.

The last time I started to trust another with my "true" self, the friendship ended in a nasty email. If I could be freed from the demons of my soul I could be more "perfect" so as to devote more of each day to implementing a universal problem-solving system. My opinions hurt the reader more than they hurt me.

My opinions sadden me because I with advancing age, my ability and willingness to conquer my limitations and imperfections so as to be a machine for timism dwindles as I dawdle more and more. While I enjoy the vast majority of people I meet as a common meaningful wormhole is found for meaningful converstation, I do hate you all as stereotypes of the lazy, igknowant and insecure humanocentroselfish fools.

If global dying did not exist and were it not accelerating, my time-wasting perfections would not only not matter but I would deserve the freedom to putz around in my little world. Because you have not done your homework, I must work harder ... but I can't. Too bad for you.

While I have since 1970 lived with timism and have developed a multi-level, multi-threaded elaboration of the many major and minor points, I am amazed at how most people express that the essays are my opinion. A case in point is the thousands of articles I have read and the hundreds of thousands of miles I have traveled in exploring global warming from rising atmospheric CO2: People have a kneejerk, gut-reactive denial when I ask if they believe in global warming. These are people who have never questioned that they might be wrong and who have read an article listing the evidence indicating man is causing global warming. I am classified as opinonated person. I would say, "F--- 'em" but I don't need to say anything when, quite simply, Mother Nature is going to screw them for their igknowance and hypocrisy.

Amusingly, I imagine a lot of people when first reading this addendum on my imperfections probably wondered if I was a closet serial killer or something akin. My imperfection is that I don't work as hard as I should ... for you. I owe my lifehelpers who made timism possible, a debt I both resent and accept.

I was perfectly willing to publish timism post mortem via modem with no secular acknowledgement. People's initial response to me is like the response I get when I say that I have a mental variation of Socrates observation that he knew more than most people because he knew what he did not know while they thought they knew everything in their igknowance.

For me, I am saner than most because I know my insanities. Expressing this Socratic twist prompts others to raise their eyes and step back like an old white racist woman when a black person saunders past her. Like the unjustly affronted chocolate person, it's your loss when you don't treat me as a respectable human being because your igknowance prevents you from fulfilling the meaning of respect: re-inspect. Similarly, when I seek to entertainingly edify kids, people confuse my being corny with being horny. (Your reaction to the last statement rates your iCube relative to mine.)

Quite simply, given people's absence of and denial of the elephant in the room behind the existential meltdown and global dying, the people who don't question are the people who don't see how their igknowance clouds and blinds their self- and worldly-perception.

Notes: Perfection is not achieved by pursuing perfection like chasing a butterfly. Perfection is a by-product of strinving to be a better problem-solver so as to not repeatedly hurt self or others.

Perfection would be nice if it were not for the people who are less than imperfect, people who try to declare a moral superiority of their imperfection as problem-solvers by saying, "It must be nice to be perfect."

Perfection: Some people criticize the autistic or neo-autistic person for habits. If one standardizes the solving of common, everyday problems into automatic, no-brainer solutions, one has more time and wits to detact and solve new and larger problems. It is akin to how one should not sweat the small stuff because if you do then you will not see the big stuff coming that can bury you. Whoa, you say. Fixating on consistently solving the small stuff in the same way is an example of sweating the small stuff. No, if you don't automate solving the small stuff then you will be sweating the same small stuff over and over. This a rejection, also, of the half cliche, "Consistency is the hobgobin of small minds." The full cliche is "Foolish consistency is the ..." If you want a larger functional brain with greater opportunities of happiness and rewards, don't be a fool who fails to automate the minutiae of daily life. Examples of automating the common everyday problems range from putting things back where you found them and having stoplights at traffic intersections. Would the world be better if the problem of crossing an intersection was left up to "will" of the individual drivers rather than providing a simple, automated solution? Life is full of human wrecks that keep crashing at the same intersection of human interactions because they don't want their "creativity" stifled by rules and regulations. The essence of creativity is the creation of time. If one bogs one's mind down with wasted repeat problem-solving of everyday problems, one does not have the free time or free mind to define the solution to a larger time-wasting problem to create time for self or others. (Eintime is a massive effort to standardized the mental problems of trying to be creative. It is a mental crutch with few peers in helping to prevent or correct mental slips.)

Role of iCube in making fewer and fewer mistakes, being part of the solution rather than part of the problem.

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