Murphy's Laws of Thermodynamics

Murphy's First Law of Thermodynamics: at any given moment, in any given place, all the wrong people are on fire.

Murphy’s Second Law of Thermodynamics: The likelihood that a particular person will be on fire is in inverse proportion to how much they deserve to be.

Chris Walters, 2010

Belgium 2-1 USA

A Good Loss.

In 2002, USA were denied the chance to progress from the Quarter Finals of the World Cup by referee Hugh Dallas, who laughed off appeals for handball against Torsten Frings. It was handball. It's at about 2'05":
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLtT0imwdCQ

Had it been called, the resulting penalty would have equalized, and that would have changed the game.

Dallas also refused to penalize Germany for timewasting, diving, and gamesmanship, which were rampant among them when Michael Ballack played for them. They required all of these tricks to hold on to a 1 goal lead against us.

In 2006, we finished bottom of the group. A large part of this was the fault of manager Bruce Arena, and his selection of Goalkeeper Kasey Keller over Tim Howard. Contrary to the mythology of US Soccer at the time, Kasey Keller was a mediocre keeper, at best, by this time. He was just senior to Tim Howard, and better known.

And he was terrible. He let in 3 against Czech Republic. Our first match. At no point did the team look comfortable with him at the back. We got rattled, and never fully recovered.

But we had a chance against Italy. They, of course, didn't come to play. They came to throw elbows when the ref wasn't looking, and dive when he was. Approximately 1:00:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pqnmbjE8i6E

They hadn't counted on 2 things: The ref looking, and sending De Rossi off, and Brian McBride playing on after he received treatment. We drew 1-1 against them, but they were flopping and protesting and wasting every second.

We got it all wrong, but Italy still couldn't beat us in a straight match.

In 2010, while Ghana did beat us, they spent both periods of extra time after the goal, wasting time. They stopped playing, and started gaming. I was insulted; they were better than that, and should not have to behave like Italy.

This time, Belgium beat us. We were not robbed of any chances, Belgium did not resort to bullshit. We failed to score when it counted. They were better than us.

This is the first time I have no hostility toward anyone involved. It's a clean loss. And, according to one English Football site: "Jurgen Klinsmann's USA side pretty much took the admiration of everyone watching."

The better team won. But they won't always be the better team. This USA side was better than in 2002. Against that Germany, this USA would have scored 3. The future is very bright. For US Soccer, at least.

Walters' Rules of Wrist 6-20-14

Rules of Wrist 6-20-14

Wounded People

 Healing

Deciding you are healed does not make it so. Positive attitude only goes so far. Real healing takes work and time. And it doesn’t count if you haven’t done the work, just waited a while and declared yourself healed.

Over-simplified metaphorical example: A wound that needs stitches will likely not close on its own; do the work, get the stitches. Waiting for it to close will just leave you open to infection.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Appearances

Being able to parrot socially acceptable views on anger and hatred doesn’t mean you are not angry and hateful; it may just mean you’re so adept at psychological camouflage that you can even hide from yourself.

See Healing.

Seeming is NOT being. The truth is truth, regardless of manipulated public perception, and the truth always comes out.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 Therapy

Believing yourself immune to therapy is a self-fulfilling prophesy. It also demonstrates a weak ego that needs cheap validation, and a deeply ingrained dishonesty. In “proving” therapy’s ineffectiveness, you are “proving” yourself “right”, and can tell yourself and the world “I tried, but it didn’t work”.

And you can brag that your problems are so bad that they can’t be fixed, casting yourself, at least in your mind, as some kind of superlative, ie “The Worst”, or “The Sickest”, or “The Walkingest Wounded”.

The goal of therapy is to get to the Why of some pervasive thought or feeling that makes your life worse. In fulfilling your own prophesy you are avoiding self-examination and getting at the truth.

The reasons why you sought help did not simply go away just because you wasted a therapist’s time on an exercise of self-congratulation.

See Healing.

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Saviors

No one is going to “hug you so tight that all of your broken pieces will stick back together”, especially not a lover.

Don’t put that burden on someone else.

Don’t sabotage any chance at a successful relationship by this expectation of superhumanity from your lover. You WILL discover that they are JUST human, and your disappointment will be cruel. 
It will ruin your relationship. And likely has ruined others in the past.

If you identify with the notion of having “broken pieces” that need to be stuck “back together”, then you are probably wounded. If you are wounded, you need healing.

But this:

Is bullshit, a fantasy of a quick fix. It’s a daydream of using another person, not just as a drug, but as a cure. And, if that is your goal in a relationship, you should probably remain alone. And you need healing.

Piece Written and Read at Beat Night 6-19-14: Post Hibernation April Bikeride

 The first featured reader read something 

mentioning "Rocky". 

That was all I needed to hear. 

This is the result.
There have been very minor edits.

Post Hibernation April Bikeride

Winter &

            Excuses

Have left me

at my drinking weight

& aching

But I ride anyway;

Advised to

go easy

by the well-meaning,

it’s not a whole lie

to say I’ll Try;

But I ride

            &

            Things ache

& now there’s

a big

            damned

                        hill

&halfway up

            my lost condition

pounds my pulse in my

            temples

&as I wobble

            &sweat

a 75 year old man

            passes me

                        unwinded

with “On Your Left”;

My internal dialogue

            takes the form of some medieval fantasy drama

            Like I’m on an epic

                        quest;

My mind releases the Phantom Advisor,

            the on-board critic

                        and maker of logical excuses;

He says

            “There’s no shame in surrender”

            I reply

            “There’s no

glory

in it, either!”

The hilltop

is hundreds

of

yards

            ahead

& I set my eyes on it

banning from my head

the idea of rest

until I’m past the

            crest;

My pulse

            cold sweat

            & ragged breath

Weave into the rhythm of

burning legs

            (the bad one going

                        numb)

& a song congeals,

a music to inspire.

            heard clearly in my

                        head:

The Theme From Rocky;

But I can’t just

cheer myself on;

Some part of my psyche

            rewrites the words:

Gonna Die Now,

Gonna Die Now;

& The beat is PERFECT

& the crest is nearer

& had I the breath I’d sing along out loud;

& my heart is exerts enough

            force

to make a vein in my

            lower lip

                        JUMP,

an upside down

            Bugsy Siegel tic;

And the Phantom Advisor,

whose advise is always
“You can’t”

Says

“You ARE

            gonna die

                        now!

Your brain flooded and wiped away

            by the firehouse PSI

                        of an aneurysm,

or your heart

            popped

            or crushed

                        or just

stopped.

And you’ll be found

            here

                        at the side of the road,

Fat,

            Pathetic,

                        And Dead.

And the EMTs are all gonna laugh at you!”

& I tell that hateful voice

“If I’m dead I won’t care!

And if this little hill

            kills me

Then I deserve

            to die!”

And I crest the hill.

            The brass in the Rocky Theme

            blare its last note.

I let myself coast

            gravity my engine for a while;

My heart eases,

and breath slows,

And though I’ve nothing extra for a victory cry

I revel in the cavernous silence in my mind,

as a certain voice

says not

a fucking thing.

Chris Walters

June 19, 2014