Singular

The chief disadvantage of striving for one's dreams and goals is that it tends to lead to being in a singular state. Now, being a rather singular person (or unique for those who are a little vocabulary challenged) means one thing: that the overlap of commonalities with fellow humans tends to be small, and in the extreme case, non-existent.

I had known for a long time that I was a ``unique'' type of person. There were a few contributory factors of course; my chronic skin allergies have made me look different from the norm for a long time, my general intellectual interests are often considered esoteric enough that to actually find a single person who shares a large enough overlap in interests is actually hard. And for that reason, I used to maintain several groups of non-overlapping friends, just to ensure that things don't get too complicated.

A decade ago, for reasons of economy, I tried to meld the groups together into a single group that is called ``friends of thelaptop''. Well, a decade has passed, and I can finally come to some interesting conclusions of the experiment.

It was a total failure.

People are weird. The notion that a person can be multi-facetted is something that is almost always foreign to them. It doesn't really help when there are facets that are also contradictory---for example to be both a decent musician while also being technically proficient in the cutting edge---it really confuses the hell out of them. It confuses them to the point that they summarily declare that one was ``too complicated, too singular'' and just ditch the entire relationship with the reason of being incomprehensible.

It took me too long to learn of this. Well, I knew about this before, and thought that somehow I could buck the odds and just cut my own path through life. Like many things facing insurmountable odds, it failed. In fact, at the end of the great combination exercise, I ended up with even fewer friends than before, not all of them actually getting closer to me.

In short, I ended up more isolated now than I was nearly ten years ago. Talk about a horrible surprise.

These days, I don't even bother to do anything more than just be passive about things. There is really no need to demonstrate anything about what I truly am to most people, and I have found that it is merely easier to just let others develop whatever crazy notions they have on me than to try and correct them. There is no polite or authorised way of correcting an adult human's perceptions; if there were, we would have much fewer political and economical issues already, since most of those come from some level of misconception and misperception.

The main side effect of this type of behaviour is that it drives me literally crazy. I always have a compelling need to correct misperceptions and misconceptions, and in general to talk a lot and to talk readily about almost any subject matter that I have some access to, just as a means of learning new perspectives and to gain additional knowledge that I don't already have. But to ensure at least a veneer of friendliness (and to cut back on the perceived arrogance), I have to play the passive game and shut the hell up. It's silly and annoying, but is proving to be a necessary game to play if I still want to have some form of interaction in society.

Last Friday evening, I went on an unplanned drinking session with Michael, his elder sister, and a fellow colleague. I wasn't really planning on drinking at all, but seeing that he was leaving soon and that I will be quickly out of a fellow crazy in the office, I capitulated and joined in. Apparently I haven't really lost my ability to drink, though the strange loss of spatial awareness had emerged itself once again when I knocked over an empty wine glass while gesticulating. I think something like that happened when I was drinking beer with Chris back in Pittsburgh at PHI, but that's a story that I haven't told here. I should probably keep a look out for such things the next time I drink again, which isn't going to happen in a long while I think. The bar that we went to was owned by his elder sister's friend, and was congenial in demeanour. I've tried my first single malt whiskey, and it was an interesting and intense flavour compared to say Jack Daniels, Jameson, or Johnny Walker. By the way, I'm on the look out for the best day to get Jim Beam so that I can finally get the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, which I think is probably going to be the most intense cocktail that I will be having in a while, not counting the Graveyard. The company was fine, and I was pretty sure I creeped out his elder sister and the colleague a little, but that's to be expected. It's fun to play the role of the quiet unassuming geek---it gives people a stereotype to associate with. Besides, all the knowledge in the world is useless among people that one doesn't know well; arrogance is a label that can easily be slapped on to a stranger who just sounds like he/she knows too damn much.

Ah, what else is there to talk about here on my solitary soap box?

Oh, right. Facebook. So I've reactivated my account to upload some pictures from the recent trip to the US. Not much stuff since I'm not really a fan of the ``selfie'', but there were a few nice panoramic pictures that I built from shots I had taken. Even though I have reactivated my account, I am still exiling myself from it---the Signal-to-Noise-Ratio (SNR) is asymptotically near zero when compared to the other places where I get my news and information from. And it starts to get old very quickly when I see the two-hundredth baby picture. I mean, yes, I get it. You got married and have a baby. Congratulations. Now please stop spamming the hell out of everyone's feeds with pictures on your baby and saying how ``cute'' it is. That and the ``OMG marriage!'' pictures. And the ``OMG boyfriend/girlfriend get!'' pictures. We all get it. Things are going swimmingly well in your life. The rest of us boring singles are still single and without kids. Thanks for reminding us.

You know, I keep thinking that many people on Facebook have serious narcissism problems. They do things just so that they have a ``cool [picture] story'' to tell on Facebook. Like how cool they are, how well life is and what not. It's the worst kind of narcissism---it's the kind that irritates the hell of everyone who are not them. Then the reposters. Ugh. I don't even want to talk about it. And so yes, that's what I meant when I said the SNR is asymptotically near zero.

Yeah, I'm a grumpy old man now. With a moustache. And short hair. And bad skin. And terrible combination of interests. Who the hell would want someone like that?