A Year Without Sugar

Let’s Call It a “Cessation Operation”

My time in the military has created a warm spot in my heart for official euphemism.

“Retreat” is sometimes referred to as “retrograde operations.”

“Humans” are sometimes referred to as “soft targets.”

So why can’t I call quitting this whole experiment a “cessation operation?”

Ah to hell with it. I’m quitting. Here are my rationalizations reasons …

I’m working on a new book … Writing is, well … it’s hard, man.  It’s hard.  And this is my most ambitious book yet.  Writing it is filled with moments of elation and also moments of thinking perhaps my ambition is greater than my talent.  Time will tell … Anyway, two nights ago I sat down to log in some hours of pain and suffering writing, and it was all coming out wrong.  My rhythm was clumsy.  The sentiments were trite.  It was just plain bad.

So … I decided to have some wine.  Hey now, don’t hate.  I was gonna tell you, anyway.  But here’s the point:  It was the best session I’ve had in a long time.  The words were flowing truer and more often.  I’d do it again in a heartbeat,  and I wouldn’t want to have to explain myself.

Which brings me to my next point.  The act of having to explain everything I do, on this blog, to my friends, to every-damn-body was getting seriously old.  It made me resent the process and I don’t think it was having the intended effect.

Some Emerson comes to mind … “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.”  Don’t get me wrong, I think the 811rv guys are on to something.  Really and truly I do.  And I do still think not eating processed foods or drinking alcohol is a very good idea (if one wants to be healthy).  But what if I change my mind?  I’d like to be able to do that fluidly without having to think about how to explain it.

Which leads me to this dandy … last week someone referred to me as a “raw food guru.”  Oh damnit all to hell.  That was really the last straw.  I stopped pimping myself as a “marketing guru” a good while back for many reasons, the most important of which (that I can’t stand most business experts or what they stand for notwithstanding) is that it stunts your growth as a human.  You find yourself constantly having to explain everything you do in terms of last year’s ideas.  It’s pathological.  The world evolves and so should we.

This project was an attempt to put my life on display as an experimenter, but I created a nasty little trap for myself instead. What’s important in my life is that I make beautiful things. Not money beyond living comfortably. Not my standing amongst other men. Not my adhearance to a strict regimen. Creating beautiful things. Whatever that takes …  That’s what I shall do.  And my life shouldn’t be on display for people to judge.  My work should.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to create (I hope) some beautiful software and write some beautiful words.

And yes, I’ll still probably stick to 811rv most of the time.  I’m convinced it works.  I’ll give that to you 811rv gurus, OK?  But if in the course of writing words or architecting software my art calls for a bag of Cheetos and a glass of wine from time to rare time, your rules be damned. Art is my ideal. Not you and your diet dogma. Even if you’re right.