Okay, so quite plainly, you are beyond disgusted, although I'm sure you're still smiling/grimacing in-person.  Your posts can be tough to "add" to or expound upon from the other guy's point of view sheerly due to volume and content.  It takes some time.  All in all, there's a resonation.  I hear it.  I think I was shallowly (is that a word?) bitching in my last post in my own blog, but you're going for the jugular here, and it's right. 

You're not surprised anymore.  People get boring, they're a drag.  Not that you have to make yourself out to be some dashing, fucking awesome perfectionist, because that never matters.  There are quality people that exist, but they are so rare, it's like looking for a species that scientists are positive are out there somewhere, but they're so rare that no one has ever seen one alive.  Like the giant squid, I suppose.  That's depressing.  I think what the genuine seekers are after is just what you stated: consistency.  Because nothing else really matters, when surveying another human, if there is no constancy to note.  Sure, they might be another Honest Abe, but if they're a flake otherwise, they still suck.  And then you have to wonder: am I expecting too much?  But how can that be when it's something that troubles me so deeply?  Which then leads you to turn inward and self-criticize, which I deem as just another form of distraction if you're confident that you're generally pretty self-aware.  Why do we do this?  Why do we, if we're good people, instantly look at ourselves and do the whole "I'm not so perfect, who am I to judge?" thing, when all that's really doing is letting the other person off the hook.  Like this tedious and tired bullshit going on with the Bush administration - we have an illegal war taking place that is doing nothing but ill, yet we've got people in an uproar because politicians are fucking call-girls?!  It's a dunce's attempt at distracting from an issue they don't want people to think about.  I suppose I'm off on a tangent, and probably beginning to make less and less sense in connection with the whole reason I'm writing this, but there I am.

I guess that either I'm not jaded-enough yet, or have a touch of Pollyanna Syndrome, because I can think of a person or two that hasn't disappointed me in theory yet.  But then, being the closet fatalist that I am, I suppose it's because they haven't been given the right opportunity yet.  I try to keep idolization in-check, however, simply because I figured out a long time ago that people are people, and they will do what people do, which is suck and fuck up the planet, fuck over one another, and ultimately, think of themselves.  Is this truly human nature?  I guess that it probably is.  One need only crack open even a narrow history book to see that.  So then, the big questions could be: why do we get disappointed?  Why do we continue, probably against our better personal judgment, to expect more?  Is it an inherent self-loathing?  If we didn't expect anything, we wouldn't get let down.  And we know this as sure as we know that people suck.  So why do we do it? 

I have found, in my own life that, yes, it is easier to love or admire someone from afar.  That is how I like to keep most of the people that cross my path.  At bay.  Perhaps at one time it was subconscious, but anymore it is purposeful.  I don't mind being alone.  I rather enjoy it, actually.  I don't relish the thought, really, of someone "knowing" me that well.  It isn't that I like to pretend I'm mysterious, because I'm anything but.  It just creeps me out, quite honestly.  Knowledge is power, and that applies to human relationships as well as it does higher learning.  The more people know of you, the more ammo they have.  There's that fatalism again.  If you don't know me as well as you think you do, or maybe not so much at all, then there's very little for you to harm or take an unhealthy interest in.  (Unless you're a stalker, but I've been devoid of those thus far).  So then how do we choose the few people we allow into that space in our digs?  We KNOW they're flawed.  We know they're going to yank our chain sooner or later.  What is the criterion?  Is it what you mentioned - that we assemble the bits and pieces to form a complete whole some of the time?  I just don't know.  You ask many of the questions that I don't always know how to formulate out loud.  It's trippy. 

And that bit about love being nature's way of keeping us interested?  Right on.  I've come to mostly believe that.  We're here to fuck, kill, fuck some more, kill some more, and fuck again.  That's the whole point, from what I've gathered.  Strangely, I don't see that as being so fatalistic as much as I do a relief.  Because in that sense, I'm not surprised by much of what I see going on in the world, although I wish it could be different a lot of the time.  I wish people cared more.  I wish people were more locked-on.  I wish we could stifle the kill urge appropriately.  The fucking - well - I guess it's all in context at the end of the day.  It's not such a bad thing, depending on how you look at it. 

I don't know....maybe it's pointless to question it, but you can't stop yourself from doing it.  That's how things eventually get done.  I think the frustration arises out of the lack of answers, and the fact that it's everyday bullshit that means more when you're tuned in.  Most of our species clocked out a long time ago, which is why the planet is being pillaged and why pop music still exists.  I think it's just villainously disgusting to the people that are still actively breathing and thinking.  As a final note, I kept hearing "Familiarity Breeds Contempt" while I read your post.  It's true, too.  People without purpose back you into that corner.  Good to see your gray matter back in action on here!

Unfortunately, it is something I refuse to think about anymore.  I've visited this post in my head, long before you ever thought of writing it.

I hear you.  There are none good enough to mentor, set an example of to look up to.

But, let me explain a little something to you, that I found, amung the muck. 

Perhaps, I'm ludicrous. I captured what I know in reviewing your comment to the oh such a comforting name, "riphertoshreds", where you stated,

"if your elderly neighbours know you get home from work every day at 6:00, they might make porch monkeys of themselves around that time and chew your ear off for an hour or goad you into any number of tedious obligations, etc etc)...  i once described a name as a ball and chain, because even knowing something as simple as that gives people power over others...  there is some solace in being a stranger to most, but there is greater solace is being well-known to some...  why do we want others to know/understand us?  ego? camaraderie?  purpose?  power?  fuck."

It's not that difficult to overcome, this somberance feeling of being so alone in your convictions (of which, you truly are not).  Our purpose isn't to find perfection as you so well defined it here.  It's to be loved, against all odds.  To witness, appreciate and cheer the co-exist, in this brief gift of time, we are given, in our imperfections.

If you can't even find that, well, you hang around the wrong crowd, "only yourself and that cross talk between yourself".  Isolation is a doosey.