The Faux Pas Press #7

The Faux Pas Press #7

A Weekly Thought

By Jason Scott Chambers

PRK and Matt Barkley

I begin writing this week's thought with a pen that I don't normally use and eyes that have just undergone refractive laser surgery. I soon discover that my eyes are not too helpful right now. They are going in and out of focus - all part of the healing process after PRK. This is what I'm told at least. For all I know, I could have actually just taken the first monumental step down a road that ends with a pair of sunglasses, a walking stick, and a small tin can that has a handle and rattles change around, but as it stands, I'm enduring the usual. It is quite crazy really, a remarkable realization of a life-long dream. I mention this because my whole life, from painful childhood to almost famous teen years to misunderstood adulthood, has been hindered by poor sight. If my memory serves me, I got glasses in the first or second grade, and my prescription at the time of surgery was about -4.75, a case which, unaided, was only capable of perceiving hues of primary color and seeing general form. I have a theory that people who suffer from vision this bad also have a hereditary predisposition to overindulgence and pathetically small penises, but that is neither here nor there. On the subject, I will further say that I feel bad for the caveman who strived to squeeze out a meaningful existence with eyes like mine and without options like glasses. His remains are probably at the bottom of the La Brea tar pits - which is where I would have been. Obviously, I would not have survived as a caveman with both poor vision and a small penis - a poor hunter and lover, come on. My being born in this age is proof that we live in a loving Universe.

I know that the gods do favor man in his desires - good or bad. The laws of physics that move subatomic particles in and out of cellular form are valueless. I say, the natural world is fierce and unbiased, but we? No, we are not. We pump our desires out into the Universe like we pump petroleum into our cars. We plan, we intend, and we create the experiences that we see. Consequently, we also get to label these experiences as good or bad. Gravity does not place value on our use or misuse of it. We choose, and the gods conspire on our behalf.

I would like to compare my story, the quick and intentional realization of a life-long dream, to USC freshman quarterback, Matt Barkley, and a historic win over the Buckeyes of Ohio State. A stretch? Perhaps, but I was inspired. And when the Muse speaks I must listen attentively. So, I have wanted and visualized the hell out of this idea, me with perfect vision. I've used self-hypnosis and I've really meditated deeply on this desire. (I watched and loved The Secret. Kill me.) Two years ago, I claimed this reality. I joined the service and had heard something about the military paying for eye surgery. As it so happens, this was actually one of this first questions I asked my Recruit Division Commander at Basic Training.

"When do I get the free Lasik?"

To which she replied, "When you finish being a worthless, 27 year-old pussy, recruit."

I wasn't sure if she would let me know when that happened or not. Did she have an alarm that would sound when my balls dropped? Anyway, I simply wrote down this reality, FREE EYE SURGERY, in my journal and packed it away, offering my vibrant life as a solicitation to the gods.

Now, how does this relate to Matt Barkley and the USC Trojan's 18-15 victory over the #8 Buckeyes on Saturday? Alright, here's my attempt. So, here's Matt Barkley, a 19 year-old freshman, leading the Trojan's in their final drive. They are behind by 5 points, and there are a record 105,000 fans in Colombus, Ohio. This is a stadium filled to the brim with voices opposing his own. I like to think that he wrote down something like BEAT OHIO in his journal. Maybe he didn't, but he sure did beat Ohio. In a 14 point charge ending in a touchdown and 2 point conversion, the Trojans beat the motherfucking Buckeyes.

I think the comparison is timely, (or maybe i just like pairing my name with the names of winners.)

Voices, mainly ugly, irrational voices, had appeared to detour me from a dream, a dream that made me weep as a child, wishing that God would grant me perfect sight. These are voices, people running their fucking yaps against a worthy goal, these are black magicians as Don Miguel Ruiz calls them. These are 105,000 screaming Ohio State fans praying, singing, having orgasms against your aim, the aim of anything praiseworthy or of good report. They do this because it gives them something to fill their empty lives with. They are every person who has ever doubted your dream, and they shut right the hell up when Matt Barkley and Joe McKnight scored and converted for two points. Silence. I fulfilled a life-long dream of laser eye surgery on Thursday. Silence. This week's thought is timely and simple: When the voice inside of you is louder than the crowd, you will hear silence.

Green Lights and Galactic Pulsars of Good,

Jason Scott Chambers
www.fauxpaspress.com
jason@fauxpaspress.com