Bad Natured: The Biography

     Born in a suburb of Sacramento, Northern California claimed the first thirty years of my life.  Life in high school was a breeze, but my scholastic capacities in college were retarded from a lackadaisical public school education.  Hence, CSU Sacramento saw me flunk out after just one semester.  The next year was spent chasing and creating shenanigans of differing tastes.  I quickly found that life as a waiter in a coffee shop was not the proffered avenue towards the good life.  Thusly, I collected myself and joined the rabble of the community college scene.  My scholastic efforts gained in severity and momentum, and having grinding though most of the lesser colleges in the Sacramento region, CSUS again became my scholastic home.
     It was about this time that my educational focus sharpened up, though my lens would see many exciting landscapes before settling on a career in forensic medicine.  With this career street lamp lighting my way, I bullied my way into the Sacramento County Coroner’s Office for what turned out to be a three year stay.  My job, which entailed three weekday graveyard shifts as well as weekend shifts and which competed with school for my time and energy, gave me new insight about the human creature; this insight was not a good one.  Three years of gang murders, suicides, drive-by shootings gone wrong, and a couple of drug crazed rampages that left whole families dead was more than enough for me, so I got out while there remained at least a hint of humanity.  Still, the taint of man’s dregs has stayed with me to this day.
     No longer on a forensic career path, I started to look fret about for my vocational calling.  One call was all that it took for a new career path to materialize.  With the folks of UC Davis on the line, I asked in all honesty what my chances would be for entry into their veterinary program.  Reversing my previous foibles and raising my GPA up into more respectable realms, my chances were apparently good, very good in fact.  I was accepted my first go round, and endeavored upon a path which promised lucrative.  All was going so well.
     After a mid-graduate school near breakdown from PTSD, I collected myself sufficiently to graduate and quickly found a job as a large animal veterinarian in the central coast region of California.  That lasted all of six months before my disdain for traditional medicine, with all of the drug representatives breathing down my back, came to fruition.  After another six months I found myself pretty much out of work, but not out of options.
     The next couple of years were spent learning the skills of equine dentistry and chiropractic care, both of which found proficiency in my efforts.  I remember wanting to be the best equine dentist in California.  Whether I made good my claim or not, I truly thought myself to be amongst the top five.  Strangely, I was still not content in life.  Outside of my glorious career, time and money was spent pursuing rather exciting hobbies.  Mountain biking, rock climbing, hunting and offshore fishing, and surfing claimed my attention.  But something was still not right in my world.
     You see, I am a philosopher at heart, and the world today makes no sense to one that ruminates in the juices of the human condition, hence my obsession with various outdoor sports and activities, obsessions which left no time for contemplation.  After a ten year career, and after the passing of my faithful old hunting dog, I finally was true to the self and decided to spend my days examining life.  Well, that’s not exactly what I had in mind when I gave up all of my stuff and decided to live out of my truck, for my calling seemed to be a spiritual one and that is what was chased after.  What came from the three years of an eremitic lifestyle was that I finally came to terms with the self.  Shedding myself of all but the most primal of desires, I learn something of the truth of the self as well as the foundations for my motivations for just about every single endeavor that could be undertaken, big or small.
     This next step manifested from another rather egocentric motivation, which began in the writing attempt of a book whose focus was to delineate all of my spiritual beliefs.  In doing so, again some things about my understanding of the humanity did not make sense.  Through my writings, the art of internal contemplation of self was finally understood though far from perfected, and my book departed from the stated goal of celebrating my religious syncretism and instead focused upon culture, human nature, and discontent.  This could not be helped and I thusly succumbed.  Bad Natured: Why Humans Cannot Behave is the final result.  Where I will next go is probably not up to me, but that will not stop me from thinking otherwise.  Ashe.