Inside the Cynic

A Preview Of Another WIP

2012-02-09T13:15:00.001-05:00

Here's a bit of what I'm currently working on, and it's actually holding my attention. It has no title yet. I'll decide it later, maybe.

What the hell is going on here, I wonder? Why can't I see anything? Why is everything made of agony? These are some of the more filtered thoughts running through my head as I begin to come around.

I attempt to roll over, and this proves to be the worst idea I've had since.... well, whatever the hell it was that got into my head that got me into this situation to begin with. The pain was unimaginable. It resembled something that would normally be reserved for only the harshest descriptions of Hell the place, not the expression.

It's around this time that I decide that I'm just about done with this blindness. With much force of will - and I assure you, noble readers, there was much of it despite my horrid state - I managed to open my eyes.

The world slowly came into focus. The process was expedited thanks to me somehow managed to coerce my leaden arms into functioning just enough to rub the nights eye mucus from my face. A glance at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand, finding that it's far beyond the night before. In fact, it's closer to the very next night.

With a loud groan that could shake the dead, I manage to sit myself up straight. This causes a lance of pain from behind my eyes as if someone shoved a red-hot poker through my frontal cortex. My eyes close, and the dreaded blackness returns, along with the Fear. My forehead falls to my hands, and the agony resumes.

Holy shit, what did I do? Further, when did I get an electric alarm clock? This thought disturbs me into actually looking around at my surroundings, which honestly hadn't before held any kind of import into me. What I see evokes only one thought:

I must be in Hell.

The room I'm in, which I can only assume was of the cheap motel variety that was popular for travelers, adulterers, swindlers, drug dealers, prostitutes, drug addicts and so on back in the 20th century, and really haven't changed much since then. I find stains and odd mold on the carpet, and the furniture is all rotten. The smell in the air is that of fungus dead twice over, with newer, more superior and therefore more smelly fungus to take over.

I look up, my sense of clarity getting sharper with each passing minute as the pain behind my eyes dulled to a small yet persistant throb, at the window. There are Venetian blinds - who the hell still uses those? - covering the window. I sigh, wondering just what backwoods town I've managed to land myself in this time.

Gritting my teeth, I stand up, feeling the white hot pain shooting throughout my body. Every motion seemed to bring more and more pain, and of course, the Fear as well. After standing still for a few moments, I blink a few times and wait for the world to stop spinning. When it finally does, I open the door and step outside.

The sights awaiting my eye orbs was not what I was expecting at all. Rather than the familiar hustle and bustle of city life that I am so accustomed to, I find myself standing on the second floor of a seedy motel, staring out at what can only be described as scorched earth. The ground was hard soil, sun-baked to cracked perfection. The office of the motel was, like the rest of the structure, in dire need of some general repairs and a new coat of paint.

Sighing, I close the door behind me, not even caring whether or not it's locked. It's time to get some goddamn answers. I walk down the steps, each one creaking its protest as I put my weight on it, the wooden planks looking just as bad as the furniture inside of the small room.

I head over to the office, my eyes now darting around, taking in my surroundings. Really, there wasn't much else to see beyond the various cacti in the desert and a few of those ever-living shrubs that are sold to unsuspecting consumers, even to this day. Shaking my head, I walk into the main office.

Behind the counter sits a fat man wearing thick glasses, reading a dirty magazine. His long, black greasy hair is pulled back into a ponytail, which does absolutely nothing for the widow's peak on his head that seems to have gained far more territory than what most men are comfortable with. He is wearing a white tank top - also known as a "wife beater" due to it being the choice garment of blue-collar workers who like to drink a whole lot of alcohol and then beat their spouses - and it seems to not exactly be a clean garment, judging by the foul-looking green blotch of a stain that can be seen on it. A long, thick cigar hangs from his mouth, permeating the atmosphere with pleasant-smelling carcinogens.

All in all, this guy was a total Neanderthal.

I clear my throat to get his attention. "Excuse me."

He looks up at me from his book, raising a thick bushy eyebrow as a form of query. "Whaddya want?"

What a question that was! I wasn't prepared to be questioned; rather, I was fully prepared to do the questioning. As a result, I wasn't exactly on guard in my reply. "Well... I was wondering.... that is...."

"Come on, wanker! I ain't got all day! Tryin' to run a business here!" the motel worker said, not even bothering to hide his magazine, and blatantly ignoring the wall clock that was in desperate need of a battery change, differing by a good three or four hours from the digital clock in the room, and sitting still, silent, and very dead.

"I came from room 204... I don't remember ever even checking into this place. Truth be told, I'm not even entirely sure where 'here' is. What can you tell me?"

"Room 204? Hell, kid, I thought you left days ago!"

I blinked at him, perplexed. "Days?"

"Yeah... you came here about four or five days ago, all hopped up on..... something."

Well, as much as I wanted to argue with the guy, I knew that I simply couldn't, as this isn't exactly out of the ordinary for me. That certainly explains the condition I woke up in! "You wouldn't happen to know if I mentioned anything about where I came from, do you?"He grinned at me then, placing his magazine down. "Boy, you didn't need to say word one. You came in from the City."

"The City?"

"Wow. You must have been really whacked out, kid. Here, let ol' Gus show you." And with that, he places his meatpaws on his desk and used them to support himself a bit as he lifted his bulk up out of the cheap office chair - also stained - and walked around to my side of the counter. He pulls on some sun glasses and heads to the front door. "This way."

I follow him outside and walk to the road. He turns off to the left - not being entirely sure where I am at this point, I couldn't tell you what the cardinal direction was - and I follow his fat, sausage-like finger. Down the straight, two-lane narrow asphalt road, I see large structures in the distance. The unmistakable sign of civilization! I'm saved!

"About how far off is that place?"Gus furrowed his brows, quite obviously trying to think harder than he probably has in years. At last, the answer comes. "About ten miles, give or take."

Damn. Too far to walk. I sigh, shoving my hands in my pockets. I quirk up a bit as I feel something in my pocket. Several somethings, actually. I pull my hands out and take look. There is a half-full package of cigarettes, a matchbook, two vials - one with white powder, and one with a greenish-blue thick liquid - a cell phone, a set of keys with a FOB attached, and a folded up piece of paper. I thank Gus for his help, getting a grunt as a reply, and head back to room 204 to further examine the items in my possession.

Entering the ramshackle room, I close and lock the door, trying my best to ignore the fact that this lock seems about as useful as nipples on a medieval breastplate. I sit down on the bed, Indian style, and pore over the contents of my pockets.

The phone is I mess with first. As luck would have it, it's completely dead. A quick scan of the room shows that there is no charger for it anywhere. Why would there be? If I really just spent the past four or five days or longer in a haze of drugs and debauchery again, it would only make sense that I would lose things of import like this. Now if only I could figure out how the hell I got this thing to begin with.

The next item on my list to examine is the folded paper. The keys couldn't possibly belong to me, as I don't own a car. I'll have to find their proper owner, or toss them into the desert somewhere, hopefully to be swallowed by an iguana monster. The vials could wait, as I had a good feeling what was in those.

The paper is folded into the shape of a shuriken. This is odd, as I lack the manual dexterity required for such artwork. Further, there is hand-writing on it, and what's more is that it's legible! Cleary, this can't be mine!

Dusty

2012-02-09T09:23:00.001-05:00

Now, I'm not entirely certain what has gotten into me lately that I haven't been having the usual flashes of inspiration to write in this blog like I was for a while there. I'd really like to say that I've been doing better things with my time, but that's just simply not true. The truth of the matter is that I've been subjecting myself more and more to the human condition, as every once in a while I decide that I'm going to give it another go, regardless of the data collected from the last time I made such a decision.

The world is still interesting and people are still blissfully ignorant of it.

However, with each new jaunt or adventure or journey or trip or whatever the hell you want to refer to it as into the public that I take, I am finding more and more that we, as a society, are compartmentalizing ourselves. This, of course, feeds into Circle Logic, which I'm still working on fleshing out, but it's also quite disconcerting in the directions that it's taking.

For example, were you aware that there are large amounts of people out there who are rallying against you right now, in a bold yet arrogant attempt to make the things that they find morally reprehensible when it comes to decision-making completely illegal? I know, I know! It's crazy! Or "cray-cray," as the kids are saying these days.

Now, I know that I wrote about something like this not too terribly long ago, so I won't sit here and beat a dead horse. I'm just going to take a bit of time - as in basically the rest of this paragraph, this visual representation of millions upon millions of 0s and 1s, all being calculated at speeds that most of you ingrates can't even begin to comprehend - to talk about it a little more. Just because you think abortions are wrong, that doesn't mean that they should be made illegal. It's not murder when you do it during the first trimester. If you don't think that's true at all, consider that the brain isn't even formed yet, and without the brain, we don't even have a soul yet. So take your fullness of ego and self-righteousness and shove it up your rectal cavity, because I really am sick and tired of hearing what you have to say. It is rarely, if ever, contextual or even well thought out. It's actually reminiscent of listening to a lower-class Republican (read: ignorant redneck) defending the invasion of Iraq.

Moving on, I started a new writing project last night. I'm hoping that it bears some fruit and I can get past the first couple of chapters. I figure that if I can make it to a fifth chapter or whatever - or at least 4k words - I'll be alright. Will that happen? Probably not, because I'll end up finding something else with which to waste my time. Who knows? Maybe I will finish it up and post it somewhere for people to read and enjoy and loathe and so on. Maybe, maybe not.

Other than that, not much else to report. I just didn't feel like this blog not having an update - even a minor thing like this - once again for yet another month. There's just too much going on in my head and not enough patience in reserves for me to be able to get it all down to paper. I would really, really like that, but I'm also entirely too much of a goddamn realist to have any hope of that happening. Instead, I am fighting to get down as much as I can, and eventually I'll make sense of this jumbled mess of words, ideas, thoughts, emotions, concepts, contexts, and so on.

Anyway, that's about it for now. Might do something a little more serious later tonight.

Am I Racist, Or Just A Sociopath?

2012-01-24T21:21:00.002-05:00

Just had an interesting conversation with a good friend. It involved the stance on illegal immigration. While my stance alone could fill a blog, that's not really what I wanted it to be about.

This is a hot topic issue lately, and it's honestly just not something that I feel strongly enough about to really muster any more than a single fuck to give about. I mean, honestly? I understand the issue of how it affects the economy for many Americans that are losing jobs to it, but that wasn't really a huge thing until we started hitting a recession.

Yeah. I just said it. Before you get mad, really sit down and think about it. It was always just a small issue to bring up during political debates, to garner what was once a niche group. Recession hits, and suddenly it's on the top of everybody's shit list and at the end of the day, it's really just a big a problem as it always has been.

I personally feel we brought it among ourselves. We let the problem get there because we were complacent in our excess. Now that things we once had are suddenly going away because we can no longer afford them, we suddenly want to point the finger at something or someone, because it surely can't be our own fault. We're victims here, after all.

Take a moment to really think about it. If you were in a situation where you country's economy and government have both basically collapsed in on themselves, and there isn't really a lot of work to be had, what would you do? Simple. You'd do the human thing, which is take the path of least resistance.

For the record, the following is a good point brought up by someone else in the conversation, and I feel it needs to be on the record, as I agree with it 100%.

Anyway, you see that just a few hundred to thousand miles north, you can hike it up to a country where you could make far more money than you would there. You're going to do it eventually. I know I would.

That being said, if I recall, white Americans are the biggest illegal immigrant problem in the nation, truth be told, seconded only by African-Americans. We brought them here, after all, to help out our infestation.

Don't believe it? Go ask a true Native American.

Anyway, stepping down from the soap box and moving on to the main portion of this entry, I personally have no problems with Asian illegal immigrants. When they come here, we can't really moan about them taking jobs from Americans. Have you ever tried being anything but an Oriental and try to get work at an Oriental-run business of any sort? It rarely happens, and when it does, it's usually in the salon businesses, and it normally doesn't last very long when it does.

The workers of these places are typically family or close friends of some sort, or friends of friends. No outsiders allowed. I'm sure the same can be said of many kinds of local businesses here in America, as the mom and pop dream shops were run until the invention of major corporations.

In the end, I see the Asian illegals coming into this country, getting a job that I had less than zero chance of getting to begin with, and actually contributing to society in some fashion or another. Even if it's making me fatter than what I am, I support them 100% in their endeavors, and give them a salute.

Second Annual Obligatory Post

2012-01-01T22:15:00.003-05:00

Well, I certainly hope you all had a good celebration to herald in a new year full of the same kinds of mistakes and overall bullshit antics that make our lives so incredibly fun.

Keeping with the tradition started last year, this is the annual Obligatory Post, where I join everyone else in making promises that I likely won't be able to keep, but will do my best to aspire towards, anyway.

I'm currently sitting here at a friend's house, bantering back and forth with him about a future project that we have some very real aspirations for. The only problem with this is that our personalities clash a good bit, due to constant miscommunication.

Admittedly, this is mostly my fault.

Anyway, without taking that overly-critical path, I just figured I'd take some time to catch everyone up about things. I've been mentioning to various writing projects all year long - some of which were surprisingly well-received. I want to assure all those interested that those projects haven't been forgotten, only delayed.

I've been on a severe time crunch this month, working myself at my day job half to death to be able to afford a very important ticket, as well as the time off being taken that will follow, starting today. I've not had time to do much of anything but work this job, hence why my posts have been irregular lately, and why they've not really been following the theme I was trying to set down.

Don't worry; the next time that I make another post, I want it to be the follow-up to the basis of my philosophy. I really want to share this idea with you all, and I do have plans on continuing the short story snippet that I posted a few months back. That particular project has just hit a brick wall.

I also decided to open a Twitter account so that it would make it easier for those of you who don't have blogger accounts to follow me if you are interested.

I will probably be silent for the next two weeks, not making another post until probably exactly 14 days from today. If it does happen, I'll be pleasantly surprised.

Well, that's about it. Be safe, and try not to break any promises.

Okay?

Fragment

2011-12-27T00:19:00.002-05:00

So, I just now had a pipe dream. Perhaps I can take my future education in sociology and turn it into some sort of shot at stand-up comedy.

I know, I know. It's probably never going to go anywhere, but it's not like it isn't worth the shot. Live by the possibility, not by the probability.

This can be applied to various other aspects of life, and not just doing something that might help you make it big some day. Take your habits, and your hesitance to do things that might be out of your norm, for example.

Just a thought. Nothing really else to go on.

Observations of an Empty Holiday

2011-12-25T01:29:00.002-05:00

As of this writing, it is officially Christmas day. The idea of this day being so beloved, to me, is a foreign concept entirely. There are so many traditions for it among the many cultures in the world that embrace it as a holy Christian holiday all have different ways of going about its celebration.

My father remarried a woman of Philipino persuasion. I'm not entirely sure if I spelled that right, but it doesn't matter. When he married her, he did so knowing about her four kids - all of whom I have personally accepted as family - before hand, and still did it.

Sidetrack: Say what you will about that situation, I know from experience what it is to go into that situation, and therefore know what it takes to do it.

This year, I decided to "celebrate," more than anything, finally not having anything to do after having to work long hours for the holiday season, with this extended and accepted family.

Now, I want to make this vehemently clear: I hate the holidays, and the entire holiday season. I have my own views - which I will discuss in a minute - with the very idea of Christmas, and what it has become.

Coming from outside of the usual norm of society in general, and not dealing well with people that, as a general rule, make me very nervous. This is a feeling that can only be achieved by being around family members.

Every Christmas, a huge meal is prepared. When I say huge, we're not exactly talking feast levels, but most certainly huge. There is fellowship, talking, laughing, and true bonding. And eating. Oh, dear God, is there ever eating. Overall, it's a very pleasant experience, and there is photographic evidence of me actually smiling in this situation.

And I'm not even talking one of those faked, forced smiles that you see all too often on Facebook, or in the face of a retail employee as they try and maintain friendly professionalism when either you or another is being a total pain in the ass. You've all seen the look at one point or another. I'm talking about a real, genuine smile.

Despite my anti-social tendencies, I tend to enjoy time around people that I love.

Then - and it always seems entirely too soon - the time comes to open the presents.

Now, I'm not entirely sure what it is, but when this time comes, these family members turn into ravenous dogs, and behave as such. The presents in their eyes must appear as delicious, delicious ham with the way that they begin behaving.

Rather than going into details, I'll leave it to your imagination to run with that analogy.

If nothing else, it's a perfect reminder of what Christmas is really about anymore, and that's the act of receiving more than that of giving. You give better to get better. It's a vicious cycle that does nothing more that I can see than to generate more money out of nowhere for some evil genius of a bastard that I somehow see in a three-piece suit, sitting behind a desk, fingers steeple-formed in front of an old face with a bald head. I'm sure it sounds stupid when you read it, but in my head, it's both terrifying and comical.

This holiday has been a sham since its inception, and while the concept of proper behavior before this holiday to receive reward but also to recognize it and give it in return is awesome as all hell, it hasn't been close to that in I don't even know how long. At least as long as Charlie Brown has been around, so at least as long as 50 years.

Most people don't know that the holiday of Christmas was built around a Pagan holiday, and that it was manipulated into the birthday of Christ so it was easier for the early Vatican to assimilate Pagans into Christianity; in the case of the fundamentalist right-wing cranks, they just simply refuse to accept it.

Seeing as how the biggest premise of this holiday is supposed to be the sense of companionship, family, friends, giving, and so on. Yet, every year, we hear of people going insane and harming others in their rush to get Black Friday deals. I'd like to say that at least no deaths have occurred over such behavior.

No, really. I would love to be able to say that not only without lying, but with a straight face. I can at least change the latter, and am working vigilantly to do so.

This isn't anything like it's supposed to be. It's become about greed. How many people do you know that were worried about Christmas presents for their kids? How many people do you know that complained of worries about their kids "not having enough" for Christmas? I'm sure it's quite a few.

At best, it's become a secular holiday that is rarely celebrated in its true spirit, and even those who do it are doing it under all the wrong reasons because of false belief.

At worst (read: right fucking now) it has become a part of a bigger machine run by conglomerates that have too much power, as far as I'm concerned. Some would say that it's a way for certain industries to quite literally make money, as in make it come from nothing.

No matter which way you looked at it, it makes celebrating this idea for anything other than what it is - a festival to human greed and the American love of over-ingesting anything to the point of excess - then you are doing nothing more than perpetuating the problem and not addressing the real issue, but rather feeding it: why you are such a consumer whore.

I'm not trying to rain on anyone's parade by saying any of this. I'm just kind of sitting here, on the outside of normal society as ever, and writing down what I see. And what I see is that Christmas has fallen a long way from what it used to be, and it's depressing.

As much as I would love to continue this, I find myself falling asleep at this little laptop thingie.

Enjoy your Pagan holiday.

Ventilation and Hubris

2011-12-23T08:50:00.002-05:00

Okay, I am seriously feeling the need to explain something to the general public, and I'm fairly certain that you're not going to like it.

I work for a local hobby retailer, and while I love my job, I have to say that there is one phrase that I am getting sick to death of hearing. It's a phrase that every time it's said by some blank-faced, wide-eyed parent that couldn't tell their ass from applesauce, I smile ruefully and proceed to tell them as polite as possible that they are in the wrong store.

"What do you have in here for a 3 year old? They are really advanced."

I cringe even writing it. I can hear it in a multitude of voices within my head, and honestly, it's maddening. I really, really wish people would stop and use some common sense before entering my store. I know we look like a toy store at a glance, but I promise you, we aren't a goddamn toy store. That's another 3 shopping centers south on the Pike.

When one enters my shop, they will find remote control cars going ridiculous speeds out of the box, they will find remote control helicopters and airplanes that are fun and yet difficult to fly. I have model kits of all kinds. And for those, we have all the glues and paints that you use to put them together. We even have trains of all different kinds. Hell, we even have model rockets that go over 1000 feet in the air.

Does any of this strike you as merchandise that was built with a toddler in mind? My store is NOT for your children unless they are ten or above. I carry absolutely nothing age appropriate for children of that age.

Further, I'd love to know what makes you think your child is "advanced." The fact that they can put together Lego kits? That doesn't mean anything, really, other than the fact that they can follow simple directions. That doesn't mean they can fly a $500 helicopter, okay? Your child is probably just as dumb as you are.

The Basis

2011-12-15T23:59:00.004-05:00

Okay. It's time to stop screwing around. I've talked about a lot in this blog, but I really want to start getting down to what really matters. To me, at least.

For the past year or so, I've been stewing on this idea; an idea that I believe can help others. This is why I vowed to start getting more personal, but shortly thereafter realized that I jumped the gun.

I just wasn't ready. I didn't have enough thought really put behind what I want to say, and, more importantly, how I want to say it.

What I really want to start talking about more in-depth is how I see things in this crazy yet wonderful world in which we live. I know it isn't perfect, but I've come to see just how great a place this really is, and I want to share it with you all. The only way I know how to do that is through this blog, really.

I want to begin with a basic concept of I view society, and start breaking it down from there. When I had originally written this out in a rough draft form, it was entirely too long for one post. We're talking about seven times pressing the Page Down button on a WordPad file with 10 point font size.

Talk about your classic case of TL;DR (that's "too long; didn't read" for those that don't know acronyms).

The basic visualization of it all comes down to a series of circles. It starts with concentric circles, a small one in the middle and slowly spreading out, not much unlike ripples in a pond.

The circles represent the different tiers of us as a people, and also places us where we stand consciously. As I continue on with my explanation of my point of view of society, life, love, consciousness, faith, and so on, I'm hoping to help anybody else reading this to figure out where they really stand. You may just find that after looking at things from this perspective, you don't really stand where you think you do.

The center circle represents the people who fit in with other categories in society. We'll talk more about those sub-categories later, but for right now, let's keep things simple by keeping this in the context of broad generalization.

The people in this circle have large groups that they can feel comfortable around, and those people share certain - or even many - points of view with the individual. These people are the ones that, for want of a better term and my own lack of creativity when it comes to nomenclature, I call "Normals."

The next circle out, we have the types of people that I refer to as "Half-Normals," as they aren't quite good enough to be with the other Normals, but they don't share the qualities of the third circle. They are the people that aren't exactly with the Outcasts, either. They are somewhere in-between, and are typically comprised of the youthful.

The next edge of the circle is where I call the "Fringe." This is where people go when they have become Outcasts from the other two circles. These people aren't necessarily bad, though. They just have nowhere else to go.

The next circle out is No Man's Land, because you have to be in a really bad spot to be here. You have basically decided to Hell with anybody and everybody else, you're only going to do your own thing. We have all either been here, or felt like we were there at some point in our lives. The people who are in this Circle either don't care, or don't want to be there to begin with.

Again, that's something else we'll talk more about in a little while.

Beyond No Man's Land is Void. There is literally nothing there, because existence as we know it ceases to be in that area. It is absolute zero, if you will. There is no conscious thought, response to stimuli, no awareness.... nothing. I do not believe it possible to be here without being dead, or having come into existence.

As I said earlier, these are all very, very broad generalizations. I'm not going to go further into it now, as I really want you all to just start getting the basis of the concept down. Start thinking about where you believe you stand with the Circles as I have explained them so far. What kind of self-image do you have, and believe that you portray?

Have you ever even thought about it?

Chances are, you have at one time or another, but I'm willing to bet that it was only fleeting. My thought is that one of the biggest hurdles that we face in society and living better lives all-around is that nobody is really sure of who they are, or what they stand for. They have gut feelings, sure, but in the end, we're all kind of running around, all crazy-like, without a clue as to who we really are, or what we're even doing in life.

I've gotten it figured it out for myself, and I want to help anybody else that I can do the same.

Help Wanted

2011-12-04T14:31:00.002-05:00

As I write this, a friend and I have just stumbled across this video. I... am honestly not entirely sure what to make of it.

Nothing long or extensive to say about it yet. Wanted to get some thoughts from any of you.

(Im)moral Majority

2011-12-03T09:56:00.002-05:00

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. While this isn't exactly unusual, I haven't really been able to write for a while (as I'm sure you've noticed). I guess the last post I made where I let my brain goop fall onto the blog helped out a lot, because I finally have something worth while to talk about.

One of the main things that's been on my mind for the past few weeks is just how many people out there confuse their moral and political stances. Most of the opposition to things like the legalization of marijuana, gay marriage, stem cell research, etc. is always based on a moral ground versus a political one.

This confuses me.

We'll use abortion as an example for the sake of discussion. Personally, I am against abortion. I don't think it's a good option to do, unless we're talking about the most extreme of cases. To me, the product of rape is not a good reason to abort a baby. Now, if the giving of birth would put the mother at risk of death - and we're talking a high risk here - then I'm alright with it. If it's going to be a stillborn, go for it. Anything else? Give it up for adoption. Someone out there is bound to want the baby, even if you don't.

Politically, however, my stance is quite different. I am all for having abortion be legal when it comes to my political stances. I am a huge proponent of individual freedom, and a big part of that is the freedom of choice. Just because I think that the act is morally reprehensible, that doesn't mean that I think our government should be able to infringe on the rights of others to choose. Everybody should have the right to make their own choices, even if we don't necessarily agree with them.

A lot of people talk about America being the land of the free, and wax philosophical about how many rights and liberties we have as a people. More and more, I'm finding that this simply isn't the case. I understand the moral dilemmas that people must be facing when it comes time to vote on what should and should not be illegal, but at the end of the day, is someone else getting an abortion really affecting you personally in any way, shape, or form? No, it isn't, so why should your right to disagree with the decision supersede the right of another to make a choice on their own?

This argument can go deeper than just with abortions or stem cell research, by the way. It can be applied to just about any law out there that is wholly irrational. Case in point, here in the state of Maryland, it is technically illegal to perform or receive oral sex. This is the truth. Don't believe me? Click here for more information on that law, as well as several others that don't make any sense.

Now, I'm not saying that I am for people going around and giving/receiving oral sex all willy-nilly, but at the same time, why is this even on our law books? What catastrophic event could have possibly happened that caused the law makers to sit down and say "Hey, we should outlaw blowjobs!"

All too often, the laws that prohibit us from choosing are coming from the religious Right. While I have my beliefs - many of which I have gone into detail about on this very blog - I don't use those as a basis for my political stances. I am not one to sit there and try to lobby Congress or whatever to pass a law based entirely on what I believe is right and wrong. Instead, I try and remember the very rights that were laid down by the Constitution of the United States.

A lot of people - particularly those heavily involved in the Church - are quick to say that this country was founded on Christian beliefs and values. Alas, this isn't really the case. The country was founded on an idea; the idea that every person is equal in the eyes of God, and that every person should have the freedom to basically do whatever they wanted to do. If that meant worshiping God in their own way, or believing firmly that the Universe was belched out by demon lizards from dimension Z, or even choosing not to believe in a higher power altogether, then so be it. This country was formed with the ideal that we all have the freedom to choose our own path without anybody telling us different.

Where did we go wrong?

I'd love to go more into this, but as I write this entry, I find myself pressed for time. Maybe later, but probably not, as I will have moved past this topic and onto something else that I want to talk about, so I'm going to use what time I have available to continue pressing my point.

I don't think that I can stress enough that just because you feel something is morally wrong, that doesn't mean it should be made illegal. I'm sure that each and every last one of you perform activities that others feel are morally incorrect, be it enjoying a few beers on the weekend, or smoking cigarettes, or lighting off firecrackers in the dead of night, or teaching your children about guns, and so on. If you participate in the listed activities - or even ones that other people have told you about before that they find are not right or they are not comfortable with - then you, too, are at risk of having someone else tell you how to live and what is good for you.

I know the things that are good for me, but not necessarily for other people. There are things out there that I feel are good for others, and strongly feel that they should indulge in more often. Reading, for example. But does that mean that my feelings on the topic are correct? Absolutely not. They are, at the end of the day, simply opinions, and I'm sure we've all heard the comparisons of opinions to a certain part of the anatomy.

Listen: We live in a country where freedom is supposed to be our top priority, and honestly? That sometimes means allowing people to say and do things that we may not agree with. After all, it's their choice to say and do these things, and ours to not participate. That doesn't mean that we need to tell these people what is and isn't right. Let them figure it out!

In the spirit of knowing that no matter what you say, someone somewhere along the line before you said it better, allow me to close with my absolute favorite quote from Voltaire:

"I may not agree with what you say, but I'll fight to the death for your right to say it."

Brain Vomit

2011-11-29T00:07:00.002-05:00

I am sitting here, at my desk, bored out of my goddamn skull. For some people, being bored is an inconvenience. For me, however, it's absolute torture.

You see, I get trapped inside of my head very, very easily. As you all who read this regularly can imagine, being inside my head isn't always very pleasant. At best, it's bothersome, but at its worst - like tonight, for some reason - it's downright frustrating.

I have a good deal of things on my mind. There are events and people from the past that I haven't thought about in years randomly popping into my head. I have things that are presently going on that are eating at me, as my last blog post covered. And, of course, the ever-present concern of the future that all human beings everywhere seem to share.

This, I believe, is what bothers me the most. You see, all I really want is my piece of the American Dream - my slice of the pie - for my future. Alas, I don't really know how to go about doing it. I have very few practical skills, beyond being able to talk and write like I have more than just clay, porn, and flatulence in my head (not exactly true, but I can fake it with the best of them). How, then, does one turn this into something that can be relied on to make money dollars?

I have no friggin' clue. I'm just taking shots in the dark, writing where and when I can, but mostly just doing the same thing as any of you, and that's floundering around the sea of life like a jellyfish, only half-aware of what's really going on around me. But that's okay. I've come to accept it.

While on the subject of jellyfish, I would like to point out that cuttlefish are the coolest sea critters ever.

Moving on....

I've been doing a lot of thinking about my own personal views and philosophies, lately, and have come up with this: absolutely nothing. I only say this because of the fact that what I believe in are things that any man or woman or hermaphrodite or eunuch or whatever can agree with, regardless of creed, race, food preferences, and so on. Things like "Don't be a dick." and "Let it be."

It's a bit more complicated than that, but I've pretty much lost faith that others can follow my thought patterns. This is mostly because I can barely do it myself, so how can I expect others to do it?

My brain moves along at a rapid pace. I know a lot of people claim this, but let me put this into perspective for you. I enjoy the analogy that it's similar to a cheetah running under the influence of no less than one ounce of crystal meth after having chugged a gallon of Red Bull.

For those of you now thinking about it, here is a cheetah, specifically for the enjoyment of your eye-orbs.

Moving on....

I normally don't care at what pace my mind runs at, because I have this awesome ability to ignore it for a while. I can just push everything aside and let my subconscious roam on automatic pilot and things pop up here and there. But then times like these come around and everything that my subconscious mind processed comes up to the surface, allowing me some pleasantries and a lot of horrors.

I think about pleasant things, sometimes, but then there are those times where I just want to stab my brain with a Q-Tip or something, because I'll suddenly think about something horrible that I did to or for someone in the past, and I start to get stuck in some kind of loops with these kinds of memories, which, of course, lead to some pretty gnarly (read: jacked up) thought patterns.

I like to sometimes sit here and analyze what it is that I'm thinking and why I'm thinking that, but tonight, for some reason, I can't do that. Instead, I'm sitting here like a trained monkey, type type typing away on my keyboard in hopes that I can get somewhere constructive.

Clearly, this isn't working out too well, but again.... that's okay.

I sometimes wonder if my snake is secretly planning my murder. I haven't fed her in a while, and she's staring at me from behind the walls of her glass prison, the light of the heat lamp reflecting eerily off her obsidian eyes. Her tongue flickers, and I wince, not helping but to imagine that same tongue flicking at an open wound of some sort.

I really am a screwed-up guy.

Crime and Punishment

2011-11-07T23:00:00.002-05:00

I know that this was supposed to be something about racism, but I don't have access to that document. Not having posted anything for a while, I felt that there needed to be something here, so instead, I present to you all my experiences from my adventures in our legal system.

For those of you that don't know, I was pulled over for driving under the influence last year, on the weekend of Thanksgiving. I will not sit here and whine about how I got caught, how the Man is out to get me, etc. The simple fact of the matter is that I did something that I shouldn't have done - regardless of the reasons - and I got caught and had to pay for it. That last bit is both figuratively and literally, mind you.

Anyhow, the point of tonight's entry is just to talk about what all I experienced throughout the entire ordeal.

We'll start with this past Wednesday, which was the day of my arraignment.

I entered the court room at 1:05pm, which was five minutes later than when I was supposed to be there. This turned out to be a non-issue, as my lawyer didn't even come looking for me until around 2:30. During this time, I busied myself with observing the other court-goers that were around me.

It never ceases to amaze me the type of people that are prevalent here in Franklin County, Pennsylvania. There are good people here, to be certain, but for the most part, this place is made up entirely of a very simple people. As I looked around, I saw people that were there for what was quite obviously not their first time, or even their first offense. Indeed, many of them were actually bragging about their current charge, as if it were a point of pride in their life. While I'm not entirely certain if the bravado on display was pure or if it was a coping mechanism, that doesn't change the fact that it's quite disturbing on multiple levels.

After being called by my attorney - the wonderful Mike Carrucoli - and discussing a few things with him, he seemed rather confident that things weren't going to turn out so bad for me. After filling out a few documents and answering a few bizarre questions in the paperwork, we were set to present our case to the judge.

The first judge that I was to appear before was deemed to be a tough sell, and so Mr. Carrucoli had us moved to another judge. A few moments and a humble attitude before his Honor granted me 3 of the 4 initial charges dropped, and I was sentenced to a mandatory "adult time-out as per law," as my esteemed roommate termed it. I was to spend this past weekend in the Franklin County Correctional Facility, slapped on the wrist and chastised; put in the corner to think about what it was that I did.

Upon getting to the jailhouse on Friday, I was booked. The booking process took entirely too long, I feel. I had to sit around in a jumpsuit about 4 sizes too big, wearing ridiculous flip-flops and watching syndicated television on a small CRT monitor that was hanging from a corner. I won't go into the humiliating strip search procedure that I was forced to endure. Believe me, nobody wants to envision my vile turnip of a body in anything but clothing.

After the needlessly long wait, I was led back to the "cell" that was to be my home for the next two days. I say it with quotations because it wasn't so much of a cell as it was a nook that was carved out of the wall, with four "beds" - two on either side. Some asshole with a horrible sense of humor - or a touch of sadism, I'm not entirely certain which - assigned me the top bunk, despite my repeatedly telling them that I have a bad knee. Whoever made this decision, I believe, needs to be shot.

Moving on, I soon fell asleep on what they considered to be the pinnacle of jailhouse comfort: a slab of metal with a large hunk of pleather that had a slight incline at the top that served as a pillow. Being the resourceful rogue that I am, I used the duffel bag that I was given to hold the spare over-sized jumpsuit and undershirt and even uncomfortable tighy-whitey underpants that are standard issue in such places as a pillow in and of itself. Pulling the threadbare woolen blanket around my body, I stretched out as best I could and promptly passed out.

For about five hours.

I was given a rude awakening via a call for the inmates to line up and take medication. As soon as I figured out what was going on, I shrugged, stepped out of line, and went back to bed. Little did I know, in another hour and a half, I was to be awaken again for the morning meal. Now, I'm not entirely certain whose idea it was to wake people up at 6:30 in the goddamn morning to feed them what can only be described as processed slop, but this person, too, needs to be found and shot.

I will take this moment to touch on the "food" that is served in our homes for the criminal-minded. I have never before in my life seen something that looks like food, and has the texture and even smell of it, but has absolutely no flavor whatsoever. I wish that this was an exaggeration. I was assured by one of the guards - oh, excuse me, Correctional Officers - that the food was, indeed, completely balanced nutritionally. This was met with a raised eyebrow and the phrase "I'll take your word for it."

Moving on. As I was eating my first breakfast in the jail, I was recognized by someone that I used to hang out with before I moved away from Pennsylvania. I have always referred to him as "Shakes," seeing as how he has Parkinson's Disease, and that's how I will continue to refer to him now. He informed me that my visit should remain trouble-free, as he started a rumor that I was with the KKK as another inmate commented on how I "looked like a mean one."

Of course, I found this to be absolutely hilarious. We shared the meal, and he helped me fill the remaining time by getting up to his usual antics, some of which involved screwing with another inmate by pretending to be masturbating while occasionally looking behind him and staring at said inmate in a rather creepy manner.

I read a few books from their book racks, including an interesting piece by Orson Scott Card, as well as helping Shakes develop a makeshift war game played with a deck of cards and scraps of paper with crude pictures on them, which we entitled "jailhouse Warhammer."

Despite these various distractions, these were the longest 48 hours I have ever had to endure in my life, and if I never have to repeat something like this ever again for as long as I live, it will be entirely too soon.

I will not go so far as to say that I will stop breaking the law, because that will never happen. I think that the laws that I typically break are stupid, and are completely pointless. I feel that if I want to smoke a joint, that I should have the freedom to do so, seeing as how it's entirely victimless. It's hardly my fault that this country's government is too goddamn stupid to figure out how to tax it. However, I will never again drink and drive, that's for sure.

The grand total of what all this will cost me financially is going to be a little over $2000 dollars when everything is said and done. Again, I know that I have nobody else to blame for this but myself, but holy crap, does this "justice" system ever need to be re-worked, because from where I'm standing, this is less about teaching someone a lesson and more a giant scam to get as much money as they possibly can.

I'm all about having to pay for your mistakes, but when you charge someone to stay in a jail that you sentenced them to (no, really, I had to pay $30 to stay there or be considered an escapee) under threat of further legal ramification, then something is entirely broken.

Babble

2011-09-17T00:24:00.003-05:00

So, my friend has gone back to school. This is awesome.

He told me about a writing assignment where he has to write about smoking and drinking on campus, and why he would be for or against them. The interesting thing is that he has to advocate for one or the other, and at the same time see where the other side is coming from.

I thought that this was interesting, and was going to partake in the assignment myself, although it was going to be entirely for self-indulgent purposes. While hanging out with another friend this evening, I was inspired to do something better.

I'm going to take the stances a step farther, as I am apt to do with most situations. Instead of doing it for the topic of smoking and drinking on campus, I am going to be comparing the New King James version of the Bible with a Bible that was intended for children, and was published recently.

The reason for this is the fact that the small peoples' version of the Bible is intentionally leaving out a lot - certain key elements of stories - and I personally don't think that this is correct. I am going to compare what is written in one with what is written in the other.

I am going to do this because I need to formulate the opinion of whether I am for or against how they went about doing this. I will be taking Sunday (appropriately) to choose a few books of the Bible and read them side by side to see how they differentiate, if at all, and then I am going to recount my experience to you all.

The entry for that should be done by Monday.

I look forward to the experience.

Why Today Is Now Meaningless

2011-09-11T11:12:00.003-05:00

I don't think that I need to sit here and tell you all what day it is. You'd have to be Helen Keller to not know, what with the news, radio, and TV all reminding us that on this day, ten years ago, some religious zealots completely crippled our sense of security as a nation by flying two passenger jets into the World Trade Center.

Ever since that day, our country has been gripped by fear, hatred, misunderstanding, and complete civil unrest. We have stood idly by and allowed the Federal government to step in and give itself powers that it shouldn't have, and take away right that we've had for years and took entirely for granted. And the worst part? We've been encouraging it this entire time.

I'm not going to sit here and talk about the TSA's at the airport, or the phone bugging that was going on in the first year after the event, or even the Patriot Act, which I feel has been turning citizens into suspects ever since that fateful day. The reason I'm not going to talk about these things is that if you're reading this, chances are, you already know. Further, chances are, you don't really care.

And that's what I want to talk about.

Ten years ago, I was sitting in school, taking a test. I was in the tenth grade. The day was going good, and even better, it was almost over for me. About halfway through my class, a girl opened the door to the classroom, told us all to turn on the news, then rushed off on her way to tell all of the other classes on the floor. Like any other human being, we let our curiosity get the best of us, and we turn it on to watch a video loop of the first plane as it slams into the tower. Of course, we all watched on in complete horror as the second plane did the same thing to the remaining one. There was a collective gasp as the towers collapsed.

"What's going on, here?" I remember thinking. Waiting patiently, the news reveals that the perpetrators are none other than zealots of the religious sect Al Qaeda, and that this is an honest-to-goodness act of terrorism. As the story develops, I go from being shocked and afraid to downright mortified.

As the story progresses and two more planes go down (one into the Pentagon, and the other shot down by our Air Force), we begin to find out details. The biggest question we had was "How did they manage to pull this off? What weapons were used?" In the end, we find out that they were using what basically amounted to prison shanks to keep people at bay. Seriously?

You're telling me that 3,000 people had to die that day because absolutely nobody on any of those planes was willing to stand up and bum-rush some asshole with a shiv that he crafted out of a pair of nail clippers and/or disposable razor? Yeah, you may have gotten hurt, but you'd have saved literally thousands of lives in the process. But at the end of it all, every single person on those planes was too pressed about their own self and their own safety to even give their fellow man a second thought.

This attitude has persisted in our society way before, and even after, this fateful day. Many will tell you that ever since that day, ten years ago, there has been no shortage of patriots. Sure, I'll give them that, but these are people who I would call Bandwagon Patriots. They're only being patriotic because it's the trendy thing to do. Where was your sense of patriotism before 3,000 people lost their lives?

Many will claim that it was there, but many and more would be lying. They couldn't have had a sense of patriotism because they never thought about it. And to this day, they still couldn't tell you what it really means to be a patriot, beyond waving the flag and saying "Woohoo!" to those warriors that come back from overseas.

This is not patriotism.

Many people these days cannot even tell you what the flag really means. That flag - the Star-Spangled Banner that we are taught from a very early age to respect - means more than just "freedom." That narrow-minded answer angers me far more than what words can describe. That flag represents blood, sweat, and tears of men who fought and died for our rights; rights that we've been giving away for the past ten years.

Benjamin Franklin once said that "those who would give up essential liberty for a bit of temporary safety deserve neither liberty or safety." I'm sure you've all heard it before, but I want you to stew on that.

Folks, do you know what's going on around you, right now? Go take a walk outside, and I can almost guarantee you will see people everywhere wearing "patriotic" clothing - things that undoubtedly evoke the image of an eagle, or perhaps silhouetted towers against an American flag background. Sure, these images make a heart flutter with pride in our resilience as a nation, but read between the lines.

They have turned 9/11 into a marketing ploy. It's become nothing more than a way to make money, and it's disrespectful to our dead.

A country singer - I forget which one - released an album on this day a few years ago that was supposed to be all about his feelings on the day. The songs were very generic, and sounded all the same. The emotion in his voice was barely registered on the radar, and people still bought it up like it was water after the nuclear apocalypse. He was broke before the album, and now is rich again.

People today will be buying things at discounted prices as various retail outlets have sales in remembrance of the terror attacks that have put us where we are today. I want someone who lost family in the attacks to answer me if they feel their kin would really want them to buy a mattress at 50% off as a way of remembering who they are and what happened to them.

Further, there will invariably be attacks on local Muslims and their mosques. I can't imagine that there won't be today, and if there isn't, I will be shocked. This will happen because we've been taught that it was Muslims who did this to us. Never you mind that it was a zealous sect of them that did this, and not the ones that are repeatedly telling you that theirs is a religion of peace.

"But they were the ones that blew us up!" you might say. Yeah, but again, those were extremists. A large portion of the Muslim faith wants nothing to do with these assholes. Let me ask you this: If you claim yourself a Christian, do you want to be associated with Westboro Baptist Church? It's the same principle here, only far, far worse for them.

Doing these things - wearing clothing to honor blood spilled that you bought with money, holding "commemorative" sales to make a profit, hating on people that have done nothing to you, waving the flag whose meaning you can't even describe beyond "freedom!" and what not.... it's not being patriotic. It's being stupid, narrow-minded, and overall, un-American.

To be patriotic, you have to be willing to stand up and fight and die for the freedoms of your fellow man in this country, with absolutely no exceptions. You have to be willing to hear a guy on a soap box on the street corner, talking about things that make your blood boil, but stopping anybody that would try and stop him from talking. Patriotism is going out and being willing to die for what you believe in, but also for the rights of others to believe what they will, as well, even if you don't necessarily agree with it.

"I may not agree with what you say, but I will gladly fight and die for your right to say it." - Voltaire

Patriotism is something that is shown through more than just wearing red, white, and blue. It's more than fireworks during Independence Day. It's more than knowing that we have a piece of paper called the Constitution. It really boils down to understanding these things, why we do them, and why they're important.

9/11 is no longer important. When something gets turned into a nation-wide marketing scheme and is abused for people to make money, it ceases to hold its relevance in my eyes. I will remember the attacks ten years ago, and I will remember them with a tear in my eye and a frown upon my face, not because I am sad for the people who lost their lives that day, but because I am sad that their memory is now being shamed by us turning this day into what we have.

I am an American. I am a patriot. I no longer give a crap about this day, because it has now become meaningless in our pursuit for the love of money, and public image. We want so badly for everyone else to see us in our colors, showing our American pride, while we continue to let those who want our money more than anything else continue to disrespect our dead civilians and soldiers both.

Of course, this is just my opinion on the matter. I could be wrong.

You May Not, But I Do

2011-09-01T20:50:00.006-05:00

So, a while back, I made a promise to start getting more personal in these blogs. When I first made that statement, I wasn't entirely sure what I meant by that. That post took a lot out of me, both mentally and emotionally, and I had hit a brick wall when it came to following up.

I don't think that I'm going to have that issue anymore.

What I want to talk about tonight is something that I didn't realize was on my mind until having a great conversation with two really good friends - one of which has a blog of his own.

There are many people out there who say that they "don't care." I feel that the term is misused almost every time that it exits someone's mouth-hole. Contextually, anyway. There are four kinds of people who say this phrase: A) They don't understand what it really means; B) Someone who is in complete denial of a situation and wants nothing to do with it; C) Those who are choosing to abstain; and D) Those who really mean it.

In person A, we have the type of person who claims that they don't care about anything at all. Out of the options, these this is the one that I honestly can't stand. Sad thing is, most of us are this person, especially when we're teenagers. This is the type who wants to appear to be cool in the eyes of others, and therefore wants an air of mystery about them, or perhaps they want their opinion to seem superior.

Most of the time, they're just stupid.

These people are lying to themselves, because deep down, they honestly do care. They are the kind of person who seems to have an awful lot of opinions about a world they claim to not give a crap about. They are arrogant, hot-headed, and just all-around neanderthals (as far as this writer is concerned) who don't know what it really means to not care about anything at all.

You people who do this need to wake up. Do you have any idea of the low that you have to be to reach the point of not caring? I've been there - and I'll go more into that later - and it ain't pretty.

With person B, they don't inspire wroth more than they do pity in my eyes. These are the people who, when approached about something about themselves or someone close to them, they make a subconscious choice to just tune it out. You can talk to them about it until you are blue in the face, but it just never sinks in. They tell you that they "don't care," and it's because they're not willing to face whatever it is that you're talking to them about. After all, it's easier feign indifference than it is to admit you're wrong.

People who fall into category C are interesting. These are the kinds of people who make an active choice to not care. They are the kinds of people who won't read the news, for example (one that was presented to me tonight, as a matter of fact), because they don't like the effect that it has on them. They keep up on current events though what people at work or home are talking about, and maybe sneak a peek at headlines while in line at a convenience store.

Then you have the folks in category D. They are few and far between, and there's a reason for that.

To reach this level, you have to have hit such a spot in your life that you are at the absolute rock-bottom. Any lower, and you start getting into Hell itself. At this level, you have ceased to care about anything at all.

At first, it starts with not caring about what's going on around you. The only thing that matters is you. People become nothing more than playthings, and are there only to be used for whatever you can get. When the bridge is burned, who cares? Certainly not you.

Shortly after that, you hit the level where you stop caring about your personal health and hygiene. After all, it doesn't really matter. You're just going to get dirty and die in the end anyway, so what's the point?

Eventually, you get to the point where stop caring about everything entirely, and suddenly the idea of death becomes really appealing. That's.... not a point I ever want to visit again.

As I mentioned before, I was this person at one point in my life. I was addicted to drugs, and making every attempt I could to just absolutely self-destruct. It was not a fun point in my life, and given the chance, I would do it all differently. Every single bit of it.

The people who fall into category A infuriate me so much because they simply do not know what they're talking about, and I hate that they think it's cool. I assure you, folks: it isn't. If you have any bit of empathy whatsoever, you can imagine what it's like to have zero emotion about anything, and realize how scary that really is.

For those of you that don't, just ask someone who does. Maybe they can explain it better than I can.

Most people snap out of their selfishness far before they ever get to that point. They wake up one day and realize what it is that they're doing to themselves, and others. There are people out there who don't, however, and that always ends in complete tragedy.

The point of all of this is that I want a little more thought put behind your words. Think about what you want to say before you say it. Words are powerful, and the effect of them can be awesome, or tragic. Words cut deeper than any knife. They penetrate further than any bullet, and will leave scars worse than the hottest fires.

At the end of the day, we need to learn how to better communicate with each other. We are going around our day-to-day routines, and we mindlessly blurt out powerful phrases like "I don't care," with absolutely no thought as to the meaning behind it.

If you're in category A - and I know for a fact that several of you who will read this are - then you need to just shut up. Stop claiming not to care, when you so obviously do. If you didn't care, then you wouldn't have anything to say about whatever it was that was going on.

If you're in category B, please wake up and realize that people are only talking to you about something for your own good. If you just stop and listen to the things that others have to say about something, you'd be amazed at what you could possibly learn. Don't dismiss something that someone says - especially when it pertains to you - just because you don't want to hear it. Chances are, if you don't want to hear something, it's because you need to hear it.

If you're in category C, then I have no real gripes about you. You just keep on existing. You're at least taking measures to prevent yourself from going off the deep end in life.

I'd say something to category D, but those people wouldn't read this, anyway.

So, the next time that you're about to say that you "don't care," I want you to remember what I've said tonight. I want you to actually think about whatever it is that you supposedly don't care about, and figure out if you really don't care about it, because you simply never know the effect of what your words could have.

If we would all just start saying exactly what we mean to each other, we can start moving forward and making this world a better place. And if not better, at least far more tolerable.

Of course, Dennis Miller said it best: "That's just my opinion. I could be wrong."

A Work Untitled

2011-08-21T16:52:00.002-05:00

The following is an excerpt from my current writing project, which, as the blog title implies, has yet to be named. I am just copy-pasting it right from the rough draft text file, an am not editing it at all. Therefore, errors both typographical and grammatical are abound, and not apologized for. Enjoy.

"Kurtis Thompson!"

That was me. Or is me, depending on how you want to look at it. At this juncture, I know that I'm in trouble, but the fact that she only used two of the three names tells me that while she found some mischief of mine, she isn't entirely certain that I was the culprit. Swallowing down a weird feeling that is equal parts fear, pride, and excitement, I take that first disastrous step towards whatever destiny awaits me.

I walk into the living room of our moderate three-bedroom apartment. It's not exactly the nicest thing in the world, but it's far from squallor, too. The walls are a boring shade of white, and despite the many coats of paint, the "artwork" of my younger brother and I from a boring summer afternoon years ago can still be faintly seen. The furniture is old - heirlooms, mostly - but nice and in good taste. The couch is one of the most comfortable one could ever hope to pass out on, and the loveseat is perfect for those long, intimate nights. Both are a brown and gold plaid pattern, and the frames are made from real wood. The smell of them brings one back to simpler times, before the days of cable television and rock & roll music; times I'd prefer to never have lived in. Then my eyes go to the coffee table, where my mother is pointing and glaring.

On top of this thing is the object of her current ire: what I like to call Franken-mugs. These were coffee mugs that were broken during hijinks that probably were better performed outdoors, and yet my younger brother, Scott, and I would throw all caution and rationality to the wind in the name of Boredom - and sometimes even Science - to entertain ourselves while our mother was out at work, trying desperately to earn the meager money-dollars allotted to her by the United States Government that provided our living.

On retrospect, we probably should have been more grateful to her for her efforts, but fuck it. We were kids, and what's more, we were kids without fathers. In a world like this one, that automatically means that you're on your own to figure everything out in life, and to hell with anybody who says otherwise. Anyways, the Franken-mugs were pretty brilliant, I thought. We managed to give a dog head to Elvis' body, and the body of the dog now had an ass where the dog's head should have been. We found these things incredibly amusing, and thought to share with our Mother Dearest, but apparently, we were wrong.

"What the hell is this about!?"

I answer her with a grin and a look of pride. "We broke them while horsing around, and now they're fixed!"

"You call this fixed?" she asked, holding up two of three mugs in her hands, a look of obvious disapproval on her face.

"Well," I answered. "You should have seen them before we put them back together. A million tiny pieces each. We figured you'd be less upset if we tried to be creative in the process of repair."

I never even thought about the answer; the words just came to me as easily as air to a fish underwater. I was proud of myself, confident that even a woman as entirely unreasonable as this one would have to see the merit in at least giving it a half-assed attempt, and even telling her the truth about it! She'd never see that one coming, to be certain.

As it turns out, the gamble was a good one. Despite herself, a grin formed on her face, though obviously fought. She shook her head, and calmly placed the "fixed" mugs down on the coffee table that had seen better years. She shook her head, and a sound came out of her mouth that I hadn't heard for a few months, now: laughter. And, despite my self, I started laughing along with her. For a moment, I let my guard down as my tense muscles started to relax. This was a mistake.

Out of nowhere, one of the mugs comes careening through the air, missing my head by mere millimeters, only to crash against the drywall behind me, shattering once more and leaving quite a nice dent in the plaster. My eyes go wide, and I do the only sensible thing that I can think of: run to my room at the back of the apartment and lock the door. Little good that did me. She was right behind me. For a half-crippled woman with a horrendous back, she sure could move quickly.

Beating against the door, her fury was plainly evident. I lay down on my bed, shutting my eyes really tight, wishing and praying for her to go away. Neither wish nor prayer came true, as I heard her jimmying the lock and allowing herself entrance into my palace - my sanctuary. She completely ignores everything else in the room but me. I can imagine that her wrath has now caused her to have tunnel vision, where I am the only object present in her line of sight.

She grabs me out of bed and throws me to the floor, and while I fight my bladder for control I'm so scared, she is yelling at me about how one of those was a collector's item that isn't even made anymore, and is shaking me. I start laughing uncontrollably at this point, my head bouncing up and down and striking the ground beneath me. It was carpeted, so it didn't really hurt, but all I could do was laugh and laugh. Eventually, she saw the absurdity in the entire situation herself, and started laughing, too. Only this time, it was no ruse. The laughter was genuine.

We shared this moment of the absolutely insane and unstable. We reveled in it. She took me into her arms, then, and hugged me tight, placing a kiss on the top of my head. I hugged her back, still laughing, tears of it now streaming down my face. It was in that moment that I let words pass my lips that have hardly come out since. "I'm sorry, mom."

"It's alright," she cooed. "It's alright.... I shouldn't have gotten that angry about it. We'll fix the wall this weekend."

Smiling to myself, I already started planning out a weekend that didn't involve the fixing of the wall, instead delegating the work to Scott, leaving me to run amok with what few friends I had in those days. I hugged her back, and she excused herself from my room, closing the door, leaving me there in the Sancutary alone once more.

Laying back down on the bed, I pull a magazine from a huge pile that's sitting next to it. There are magazines of all different sorts, here. Magazines about video games, computers, science, science fiction rags, pulp rags. I had magazines about guns and ammunition, engineering, medicine, religion, and even pornography. The rate at which I would read just about anything was monstrous, to say the absolute least.

Back then, everything in the world was absolutely fascinating. Every time I would read something that was non-fiction, there was usually some really interesting event tied to the subject matter. I would sit there and fantasize about being one of these people who did something great for the world, and the thing was well-liked and well-received. The ones that interested me the most, however, were the ones about the people who started from the very bottom of the ladder, and worked themselves up to the top. That's where I wanted to be most of all: at the top. I wanted my piece of the American Dream.

After a while - I'm not entirely sure how long, as I tend to lose all sense of time and responsibility while I'm reading - the phone rings. I let it ring three times before picking it up, rolling my eyes about the inherent laziness of everybody else in the domicile. As it turns out, the phone was for me, anyway. The voice on the other end was my friend and typical partner-in-crime at the time, Walter.

Now, Walter is a bit of a strange guy, yet one of the best people that I've ever met in my life. I met him way back in elementary school. I was well into my second month there, and being a strange child myself - I preferred to do things like watch kickball games to figure out how it all actually worked than I did to actually participating in them. That, or watch anthills, or stare off into space, living out some space fantasy that any could be expected of any six-year-old who, at this time, had been so indoctrinated into Star Wars that his ambition then was to be a Jedi.

Anyway, my friend was a bit of a giant. He stood easily a whole four to five inches above our peers growing up, despite the fact that he was only a year ahead of myself. His bright red hair and intense blue eyes contrasted in a way that made him a bit frightening to others for some reason. His stocky build, due to the fact that he actually did suffer from being "big boned." His bones were twice the density and about 50% larger than others', which made him appear huge and also has thus far prevented his bones from ever breaking. When I learned this, I immediately began teasing him about being a super hero in the making.

"Hey, dude," he says in that tone of voice of his that is somehow both gentle yet deep at the same time. "Ben's been over for a bit, and we're bored. Want to come and hang out?"

A grin started to form across my face. Little did I realize during my altercation with my mother, an easy out for this kind of situation had presented itself. Not only could I now rely on plausible deniability - probably the most wonderful little toy ever created by our law system in this country - to get out of any trouble with her I might get into for the sure-to-be-had antics of the evening, but I could also give her the space she'd need to fully cool down from what I supposed was a bad day at work, on top of her precious mugs being broken.

"Sure. I can make it over. Give me about thirty minutes."

I hang up the phone, and toss the magazine on my mattress. I know it goes on the pile of them next to it, but fuck it. I'll get it later tonight. Right now, there are more important things to do, such as practice my right to the pursuit of happiness. And right now, my happiness requires nothing more than the companionship of two of my fellow travelers on the path to the American Dream. Two brothers in arms, if you will, and we are fighting our way against all odds to go out, be successful against all odds, and be the ones that people talked about later in life. The year is 1998, and we are thirteen- and fourteen-year-old boys, full of hope, promise, hormones, and most importantly of all, a desire to have as much fun as we possibly could before it all came crashing down around us, as it invariably would.

The words of the Bouncing Souls come to mind when I think of our friendship: "He's my friend, he's my alibi. My accessory to the crime." It goes on about a bond that will never die, but that part's bullshit. Always has been, and always will be, thanks to human nature. Anyway, that's what we were to each other. We were hardly ever apart from each other when we could help it, and there most certainly was a bond there, and still is, so we'll see.

I walk out of my Sanctuary, and out to the living room. "Mom," I say, quickly racing for the front door, having learned earlier in life that if I don't give her a chance to actually tell me "no," I can point out that she never really did, and therefore can't be mad at me for doing something that I didn't know I was supposed to do. "I'm going to Walter's house. I'll see you later."

And with that, and a quick twist of the key to lock the door, I'm off on my little adventure.

Trials and Tears

2011-07-07T09:58:00.004-05:00

So... the media circus that was the Casey Anthony case finally ended with a verdict that, admittedly, is less than pleasing. Of course, this has many people up in arms over the whole thing, swearing up and down that the American justice system is screwed up, things of that nature. While I'm inclined to agree with them to a point, I really don't think that it's fair to blame the justice system.

I really don't think that many people have an actual clear understanding of how our justice system works. Granted, it's not perfect, but there are things in place to prevent somebody from manipulating it too badly. What it really comes down to is that you have to have the better lawyer than the other guy.

And at the end of the day, that's precisely what Casey Anthony had: the better lawyer.

If you all want to blame someone for her being able to just walk away from this, then blame the prosecution. Their case was not as cut-and-dry as they thought, presuming they thought about it all. I'm not entirely convinced that they did, because if they had, then they would have produced far more damning evidence that they did. As it stood, all of their evidence was entirely circumstantial. Any lawyer worth their weight in even piss could tell you that you can't build a successful case entirely on circumstantial evidence.

I'm sure a lot of you are currently thinking "Yeah, but she deserved to burn!" Those of you thinking that are also the ones who are saying that the system is broken and that there is no such thing as justice anymore. I don't think you really know what justice is. I even talked a bit about it last year. Just because it doesn't weigh in your favor doesn't mean that it isn't there.

Guys, sometimes a cigar really is just a cigar.

You can easily sit here and throw stones and rage all you want to about how broken the system is, but it's designed the way it is to give you the chance to defend yourself if you are truly innocent, or to find a lawyer who is as corrupt and without moral scruples as you are if you're guilty.

Assuming that you're innocent of the crime you're accused of perpetrating, would you want to go to jail forever over it?

I do not believe that Casey Anthony is innocent of her accused crime. I do not condone her actions, or the outcome of the entire trial. However, I do have some understanding of how our system works, and it's not that it failed us.... At the end of the day, it was the prosecution for not doing their job properly, and depending entirely too much on human emotion to win the case.

Now, as far as how I feel about it... I don't think that the judge or jury did her any favors by letting her off the hook. After she serves her laughable one year in jail for lying to the police, she'll have to be back in the public. She is going to have to look everyone in the eye from now on, and that gaze back at her - even if she has never met the person - will be full of nothing but the deepest of loathing. She is not going to have a job, and nobody is going to want to be seen with her. As a society, we are going to ostracize her, and cast her out of our good graces.

Imagine: living a life where nobody will talk to you. You have no friends. No family that is willing to lend an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on. Everywhere you go, you're shunned, and there is nothing that you can do about it.

She may have been found innocent by the court of law, but the rest of us are not so forgiving.

We, the people, will be punishing her in ways that jail never could, and that's via isolation. My theory is that she will eventually go insane, having to live down what she did and then not being able to do anything, really, to take her mind off of it afterward. She will have all that time alone, the weight of it all bearing down upon her day by day, and the loneliness will only make it worse.

For those of you that are still saying that isn't bad enough, then I want you to imagine your life without being able to reach out to anybody. You have nobody and you are utterly alone. It is not something that any one person can live with... not without an exceptional hatred of people.

If there's one good thing that this media circus did, it's that it got everybody to know her face, and I can assure you that society will remember it always.

(in)secure

2011-05-13T22:03:00.003-05:00

So, I find myself preparing for a trip out to California. The cause of this little adventure is because I am seeking out a new place to hang my hat in my never-ending search for the blessed Home. The effect, however, is unknown at this time.

I've been discussing this with my friend-neighbor - the flight, mostly - and he made a comment about expecting to be groped by the TSA. This, in turn, lead to the spark that is tonight's discussion.

Some people have cried havoc over the whole being groped by strangers thing. While I admit that it's more than just a little bit creepy, there really are things out there that are far, far worse.

But that's not really what I want to talk about. The last post that I made, I made a promise of getting more personal with you all, and I fully intend on delivering.

One of the biggest things that I was hearing around town when all of this was still the relevant "hot topic" of the news was that people were having a problem with being "felt up" by members of the same gender.

While being groped by a stranger is most certainly an anxiety-raising ordeal, that's not exactly what the people are having a problem with, always. The people who were subjected to horrible things - assuming that their complaints really had any merit - are backed by me 100%. It's the people that are cringing from it from some form of homophobia.

It's not that these people are bad people, really, but they are interesting. They aren't upset at the prospect of being groped by a stranger. If that stranger were a member of the opposite sex for these people, they'd be all about it and probably wouldn't mind so much. Why the double-standard?

The answer is simple: They're insecure.

Every single one of us has insecurities. That's just the way we are as people. The problem is, a lot of us like to pretend that those insecurities don't really exist. We go on and on and on acting like we know who we are and what we are, and the simple truth is, most of us really have no clue who we are.

Oh, you can't tell somebody that, of course. They get angry. And yet, they do absolutely nothing to recognize why the fault was pointed out to begin with. The reason for this is because of self-esteem, but I've already touched on that.

For example: I believe that we, as either a species or a society, I'm not entirely certain, are obsessed with violence. Having been denied our need to kill for our food supply thanks to becoming civilized, we all now have an inner bloodlust that lies just beneath every surface. To deny it is to be foolish, and yet most of us do it anyway.

Those who choose to ignore that part of themselves are not bad people, nor are they stupid. However, there is some part of them that is uncomfortable with the fact that this issue is there, so they try to suppress it. Problem is, this is a powerful thing and it will manifest itself in one fashion or another. When it does, they don't even react to it for what it is, and even subconsciously play it off as genuine concern. Ever hear the saying "it's like looking at a train wreck?"

There's a reason for that.

Using the train wreck analogy, these people will deny that they're looking for violence. Instead, they will use some excuse like "I'm trying to see if everybody's okay!"

Okay, first off, if I'm going to believe that for even a second, I'll need to ignore the fact entirely that if you passed these people on the street, you'd never even give them a second look (an upcoming topic, actually). Then, I have to ask the only question that the situation begs: What, exactly, are you looking for as signs of everyone not being okay?

When this kind of a question is asked in this kind of a situation, something happens within your psyche. You're suddenly called out into the open, and you're not okay with that, because you've been dragged outside of your shell and now have to come face to face with some nasty part of yourself that you don't like, but is always very much there.

You hear all the time while growing up that you're special and unique. While this is not true in most cases, it is true in the sense that quite literally there is nobody else out there that is you. Sure, there are people out there that might share the same personality quirks or sense of humor, or even an overall perspective on life. However, it's not just the positive side of you that makes you who you are - it's the negative, too.

The negative is what most people like to call "human nature." Others call it sin. No matter what nomenclature you choose, it all boils down this: we all have faults. There is no getting around it, and if you're going to start accepting what yours are, you need to start accepting all of them and not just the ones that you are willing to admit to others.

We all have secrets. We all have things about ourselves that we don't want anybody else to know, but then we project those insecurities onto others. We deny that we do or think or feel these things, and therefore are denying ourselves. Our subconscious, being what it is, knows that this isn't right and starts trying to tell your conscious mind what's what. However, we don't listen or we misinterpret what we're really thinking, and that plants the seed of hatred.

Guys... being hateful is a waste of time. Stop hating on those that have done absolutely nothing to you beyond maybe being a little different - be it through creed, sexuality, spirituality, politics, shoes, what that dangly thing in the back of your throat is called - and start focusing on why those things bother you so much. Is it really worth it to hate on someone and rob yourself of an opportunity of a good friendship?

Maybe you are this way, yourself, and don't realize it. That's okay. That doesn't make you a bad person, and I won't judge you. I can only just hope that maybe my words tonight have made a difference.

After all, you can't really say that you're secure with yourself if you haven't accepted yourself.

So, back to the TSA thing. I really am not looking forward to it, but if it happens, I know that they want to be doing it just about as much as I do, and that the less fuss I throw about it, the quicker it goes. At the friend-neighbor's behest, I might even start a conversation with one of them. Why not, after all?

Mission Statement

2011-05-05T19:58:00.002-05:00

Alright. Enough with the banter. Enough with the politics. Enough with the spirituality. As of this post, Project: Shut Up And Listen has begun.

Over the past few weeks, I have been reclusive and trying to get stories written in a vain attempt to deliver my message and break into the writing world. I have been beating around the bush at what I've been trying to say, and as any proper cynic will tell you "this is wrong."

It's time to stop pulling the punches. It's time to stop babying you. You've seen my more philosophical side, but that's only going to get me so far. The time has come to start getting personal.

Over the course of the next few weeks, anything that I post is going to start getting more and more personal, because that's how my words are going to be the most effective.

In my downtime from the Internet, I have been making efforts to get outside and start interacting with people a little more often. Out in public, I restrain myself from further interaction, because I don't know a damned thing about tact. I have a certain charisma, to be certain, but it's only after you take the time to get past the initial shock of the first hour or so of knowing me. As such, I sit back and just watch people.

People are absolutely fascinating, and yet we take each other for granted. We are so absorbed with ourselves and our self-inflicted ADD (a subject that will be talked about later by a fellow writer on this very blog) that we tend to miss out on making connections with some really awesome people.

These missed connections can result in missing out on some awesome things in your life. Not all of them would be something positive, to be certain, but it's not like Murphy's Law is in effect at any given time. One could use this to start a conversation strand about alternate universes, but I really don't care to talk about that.

What I want to talk about is you, me, and us as a people. I want to talk about our society, what I see that's wrong with it, and what I think can be done to fix it. This is me doing my part.

Whether or not it makes a difference, ultimately, is up to you.

223!?

2011-03-28T21:47:00.002-05:00

For those of you that are on my Facebook, you've probably noticed that I've been referencing Dr. Seuss a good bit, lately. Mostly, it's because I've been re-visiting his works, and I've got to say that the man is a genius.

"The Cat in the Hat" was a children's book in which Dr. Seuss wrote using a minimal list of only 223 words. He is quoted as saying that it took him nine months to complete due to the difficulty involved with such a small vocabulary. However, "The Cat in the Hat" is now perhaps the most famous children's book ever written, long since eclipsing the benign exploits of Dick and Jane. The brilliance of the book comes directly from how little Dr. Seuss had to work from. A true genius is not the one facing down infinity and plucking down nuggets from its vastness. A true genius is the one who solves every day problems without the every day tools by which they are normally solved.

I bought a programming book. Two of them, actually. It's been a while. In fact, it's been so long, Java has jumped beyond the 5.0 that I bought the book for. I've gotta say, it's getting harder and harder to fake this whole "programmer" thing. Generics. Enums. Autoboxing. Static imports. Annotations. For/in loops. I'm pretty sure that they just make this stuff up as they go.

It's cool stuff, though. It makes Java more abstract and interesting. That C++ stuff is sometimes a load of ugly junk that offends my very soul. Java is beautiful. And nowhere is that more obvious than the scene graph-based Java 3D. Suddenly, 3D starts making sense when you stop talking about vertices and start talking from the top down.

But why bother learning Java 3D? I mean, the closest I've ever come to finishing a game - ever - is a crappy little survival horror Resident Evil clone that I understand the engine of which was written in three days. Total.

I had nothing to do with it, however. I was the sound guy. Why learn a new skill set when I should literally have more than enough skills to already do something unique and interesting?

I mean, if "The Cat in the Hat" can be written in 223 words, I should be able to do something new, original, and exciting with mere text.

At first, you'd write it off as absurd - text games are as old as computers and every programmer from here to eternity starts with text. To think that one could come up with something new and unique after all that is the most supreme form of arrogance!

And yet... we've been writing books for thousands of years, and the "Cat in the Hat" managed to create the perfect first reader - a good story, interesting characters, humor, and all within the limited lexicon of a first-grader.

It can be done.

So, the idea is to limit the vocabulary. Well, at least abstractly. Video games have a vocabulary of gameplay devices which tend to define and sometimes dominate. A genre can sometimes be defined entirely within the limits of a few set conceits. What happens when you take away those conceits?

Can you make an RPG without experience points? Can you make one without money? Can you make an online game without cliques? Can you tell a story without a climax?

If you reduce yourself to 223 words, what book would you write?

The basic issue that I take with RPG's is that you start at level one, and you gradually get more powerful. This conceit merely exists to dole out the content at a measured pace. You can't instantly kill the final boss because you aren't level one hundred yet, and when you are, you don't need to conern yourself with fighting those level one guys that you wasted early on. However, what essentially happens is inflation.

As you become more powerful, so do the enemies. A level seven player versus a level seven enemy is no different than a level twenty player versus a level twenty enemy. Maybe there are a few more tricks, but the relative balance remains the same.

Let's dump that crap. No levels. No accumulated advancement.

Players secretly hate each other. This is because they are fiercely competitive and can only trust a small group of other players - usually their guild or whatever clique they manage to cling on to. The problem with this is that online games tend to become clique versus clique - you are whatever you're grouped with. A common enemy means that you work together. None of this leading you to a secluded area, killing you, and stealing your stuff. You work together towards a common good.

But what of the players, like myself, that choose not to enter into a clique? They are exploited and generally treated like second-class citizens. IF I hear one more person tell me that the only way to enjoy a specific MMORPG is to join a guild, I'm going to have to beat them severely about the head and face. With a rotten trout.

So, let's dump the clique stuff. No guilds. Not even combat parties. We don't need gameplay-enforced trust; without experience points or money, there's nothing left to protect.

Money angers me. People are always so willing to offend to get even the slightest advantage. I've seen people haggling with the Web comic folks at Otakon! Does saving a dollar or two really justify the loss of respect and trust that you receive in return? In Star Wars: Galaxies, someone was trying to sell something and the buyer demanded that they throw in a free gift of significant value to go with it.

I don't trust money. People lose sight of the true goal when the temporary goal of accumulating currency takes over.

Respect? Value? Honor? Trust? Honesty?

It doesn't mean anything when money is on the line, and the irritates me.

Thus, currency has to go. No more screwing over your fellow man for pocket change. The idea of experience points is kind of like a currency you can't lose. You just gain it, and when you hit the mark, something happens. You just keep building and building, always moving forward. You only control the speed.

Even if you dump levels, there's still this innate draw towards experience. Killing needs to get you something. There's nearly no risk, and the best way to excel is simply to sit down and grind over and over again in the best min-max tradition.

Let's dump experience points. Let's see if advancement can't be something a little more significant.

Better yet, to avoid the whole min-max thing, let's see if we can't make advancement unique for each player! You can't min-max something that you can't predict. This whole monster-monster-monster-boss thing gets to me, too. If you can determine where the monsters are and where they re-appear, you just camp spawn points. If you do the same quests, you can tell everyone how to do them. Let's axe all that stuff. Let's make a player in his 90th hour float in the same boat as a player in his 10th minute.

I've systematically removed many of the conceits of most major MMORPGs, like one would do any other termite or roach. I've taken just about everything you expect to be there, and I've punched the delete key. So, now what? We've got to build a game around what we don't have. If you don't have any experience points or money, what's the goal? How do you advance? IF you don't have guilds or combat parties, how will players communicate with each other? When limited to linear text output, how do you convey complex information? Heck, what's the point? Where's the long-term appeal?

I assure you that all this stuff is but one solution to a series of problems. Even if you remove them, that doesn't mean that there aren't other solutions out there. You just gotta think.

Nothing to See

2011-03-05T20:34:00.002-05:00

Well, there was supposed to be something here that would provoke thought, but after stewing in psilocybens and allowing the thought to gestate properly, I've decided to take it in a different direction entirely.

I am going to be presenting this idea across a multitude of sites and even media. I am entitling it "Shut the Fuck Up and Listen."

I'm taking this idea and hopefully turning it into something amazing. I feel really good about this, and am instead going to be taking the time to give it the tender affection that it deserves so that it can come to fruition, and hopefully make a damned difference.

After all.... that's all one can really hope for, right?

Obligatory Post

2010-12-31T19:22:00.003-05:00

And here we are, bringing a rapid close to the year of 2010. This year has been quite a journey for me, and I'm sure for you all, as well. We're now at an end of it, for better or for worse, and we all are out to party with friends, or be with our family, or even staying at home with a loved one, ushering in the New Year together in a sentimental way. However you all wish to spend it, I hope it's safe and awesome for you.

This has been quite a busy year. In the past 365 days, I have gone through a good bit, and a surprisingly small amount of it was bad. I have seen myself go through some serious attitude changes. I have become more responsible, and dependable. I have written more in this span of 355 days than I have in three years combined. I have also met some of the coolest people ever.

Now, I'm not sure how anybody reading this traditionally spends their New Year's Eve. I'm not very big on tradition, as any member of my family will tell you. It's not that I'm necessarily a scrooge, but I don't really understand why tradition is important. While that could be a post in and of itself, that will have to wait for another time (though, more likely, the idea will float off into the ether and cease to be). Tonight, there's one particular tradition that's on my mind, and that's the tradition of the Near Year Resolution, or as I like to call it, the Annual Lie.

Every year, we all set these resolutions for trying to be a better person. We are all constantly striving for that one thing that we think we really want. Some of us even go so far as to pray for it... The problem is, I don't think that we're asking for - or about - the right things.

In my experiences, real change doesn't come from some arbitrary desire to stop a bad habit or some misplaced desire to right a character flaw. These are good things, don't me wrong, but I don't get why we want to change these things for the new year. Why not start addressing them as you become aware that these are real issues? Why the procrastination?

Listen: I'm not saying that you're all lying to yourselves. I'm not that arrogant. But I can't help but to wonder how many of you have actually kept your promises to yourself. I also wonder if you were really making the resolutions for yourself, or were you doing it for others?

You can't really expect to change if it's for someone else. Not by any substantial means, anyhow. The only reason for you to change is because you really want to change. So before you all go about making these resolutions half-heartedly, I urge you all to think about who the resolution is really for. That's all I ask.

I'll shut up, now. I didn't want this to be a long post, but I couldn't help but to get on my soap box for just a minute. Here's to intoxicating ourselves to levels not only unreasonable, but also potentially unsafe.

Cheers.

Time Bomb

2010-12-13T21:38:00.002-05:00

A blank stare on your face, because reality as you know it has just crumbled around you. Life was good, and suddenly, you're stuck facing a brick wall and it seems like there's no way out.

At first, you turn around and look behind you. You've left nothing in your path but a wave of destruction and emotional turmoil. You want nothing to do with it anymore, but where can you possibly go?

A normal person in these circumstances would go rely on someone else to get them out of trouble. They would seek out the comfort of family and friends. Me, personally? I run straight into the wall, and self-destruct.

Many people seem to be alarmed by this kind of behavior. Sure, it's a rather dangerous process, as you start putting your mind and body through sheer hell throughout the ordeal, but there is definitely something to be gained from it all in the end. Honestly, it's no different than anything else you do to yourself to make yourself healthier and better.

When we gain weight, we go on a diet. The first thing that any real diet (Atkins was not a diet) has you do is a total purge of your system. Not everybody adheres to the water requirements of this part of the diet, and soon learn their lesson on it. The entire point of this part is to get as much waste out of it as you can. A kind of systemic flush.

This process is not gentle, nor is it easy. The mind suffers more than anything, because you're fighting against yourself the entire way. You're trying to convince yourself that all of the discomfort and non-filling meals are going to be worth it in the end. Anybody who has gone through with this will tell you that the biggest hurdle is yourself.

After dieting, people typically start exercising to get fit, so that they can really fill out their new form. Some people take up running/jogging. Others do things like bike riding, weight lifting, or even just simple exercises that can be done around the house (like stretching). Have you people any idea what's happening during all of this?

Every time you stretch, you are tearing your muscles to shreds, and they regrow more flexible than last time. This is how people can get as flexible as they are. Even a relatively fat person can get this flexible with constant stretching. The same is said for when you're jogging, only now you're also running the risk of bone spurs in your shins. Weight lifting? Yep. Same thing.

Every single thing that we do to better ourselves physically, we are putting our body through hell. We are literally destroying it so that it comes back better. Why can't the same be said for our mentality and personality? From what I'm seeing here, there is no better way to make yourself better than to destroy it, first.

The trick is knowing which pieces of yourself to pick back up, and which ones to leave behind.

A Representative Government

2010-11-28T12:59:00.003-05:00

There are things out there which I do not like - cannot stand - and yet, I can't help but to seek them out. One of these things is the comic strip "Mallard Fillmore." It's basically what would happen if you took Rush Limbaugh and turned his life into a newspaper comic strip. It's loud. It's obnoxious. And very frequently, it's stupidly wrong.

Case in point: The comic for Sunday, January 2, 2005, was about predictions for the new year. I think it said something about how the media will complain that the President continues to follow the agenda of only those who voted for him. Mallard Fillmore thinks it's stupid, suggesting that our representative government means that our representatives represent only those who voted for them.

I really don't get that reasoning, to be honest. We have a phrase for that. It's called "Pork Barrel Politics," and it isn't a good thing. No country - indeed, no society - could ever function under leadership which has the limited closed-minded views of a portion of the populace, even if it is the majority. There's a word for that, too. It's called "Fascism" - and guess what? America is fascist. Nobody wants one. It just sort of happens underneath everybody's radar.

Let's take a simple example. There is a group of four people and an elected representative. That representative's job is to be the voice of those four people - all four people. Three of them decide that the fourth guy needs to be shot. Does the representative agree with the majority, or does he stick to some ideological ground and stick up for the rights of all those he represents?

America was not founded on the majority. It was founded on an ideal - an ideal which should be ever-present whenever a decision is made. That ideal is that all men were created equal, and that each voice deserves to be heard. The majority, which is granted strength by solidarity and weakness by descent, is less important in a society driven by that ideal. If one voice is right, it doesn't matter if ten thousand of them are wrong - and it is certainly out of the question to stop that voice from being heard.

We have a government where we elect people to represent us, but that could not be further from the truth. The incumbent always wins because most people don't bother voting or learning about what they are voting for. With a two-party system, when you vote for anti-abortion laws, you are also voting for drilling in protected wild lands in Alaska, a war with Iraq, and tax cuts fr the top 1%. You also get homophobia, big business, and the freedom of any moron of any age to walk into a gun show and walk out of it with a semi-automatic rile. There are people who believe all those things, but chances are, if you're reading this, you don't.

You see, the way these representatives get elected - the way they take power - is by confusing you and tricking you. They say "Look over here!! Ooh! Abortion bad/good!" All the while, their real agenda is to give big oil contracts to companies they have intimate ties with, and seek benefit from. You think Obama gives a crap about homosexuals or abortion? He was the President of the United State! One of, if not the, most powerful men in the world. You think his meetings are about making more unborn fetuses get jiggy? Please. The dude's got more important things to scheme.

We, as a people, are being led around by our nose and we thank them for the opportunity. George W. Bush did not win that election. I don't care what the votes were, but without a paper trail for electronic voting, there is no way to say for certain (which probably benefited him more than he'd like to admit). We are no the ones in charge of electing our representatives any longer. They elect themselves, and the reason they can get away with pork barrel politics is because the system is so corrupt that they have no reason not to do those simple little things that will benefit them greatly.

Our government is corrupt. Worse yet, it's filled with stupid people. The people who aren't stupid (and there's plenty of them) aren't speaking up because it would ruin their career. They live in fear and subjugation - a trademark of fascism. You'll have to excuse me if I don't feel sorry for them, though. If enough of them spoke out, we could end this charade. This country is over 200 years old, now, and they are willing to throw away the next 200 over their job prospects for the next 10.

'Tis The Season

2010-11-19T10:59:00.002-05:00

I should probably save this for later, seeing as how it's not quite time for Christmas yet, but seeing as how every retailer in the country has begun to shove the holiday season down our throats, I, too, shall board this bandwagon. While I don't celebrate Christmas - it's a bogus and highly secular holiday at best - I hope that those of you that do have a very merry one, indeed.

First and foremost, we'll get this out of the way. 'Struth.

I've been avoiding this topic amongst my peers for some time, as I feel it is sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy, as so many Conservative crusades turn out to be. Basically, it's someone shouting "I'm a victim! I'm a victim!" so loudly that they can't be ignored, and when you tell them to shut up, they go, "See!? I told you!" It seems that calling this crusade stupid would be playing right inot the trap, sell a few more books, and generally make me wish I had ignored them in the first place. Of course, this leads to the dilemma of eventually leading them to find some other victim crusade that I can't ignore.

I finally had a chance to go over the book, recently. In the past, I heard all sorts of silly things on FOX News (unsurprisingly, nowhere else), the most recent being some silly resolution protecting "symbols of Christmas," which FOX responded by putting on screen a full roll call of everyone who voted against said resolution... twice. So, I just so happened to find myself browsing the Internet for devious activities and, once again, my curiosity overthrew my better judgement. I checked the book out, and yup, it was every bit as stupid and victim-centric as I thought it would be. This particular entry is based on a brief examination of the book (especially the last chapter) and may not be completely accurate. But then, as the author said on FOX News, all forums and blogs are the litter on the side of the super information highway, so I guess I have absolutely no responsibility to him (or anybody else, for that matter) to be fair or accurate in my portrayal of his work. I'm going to try, anyway.

The book is basically a dozen or so chapters, each centering around a specific situation in which Christmas was somehow destroyed. I found it almost immediately intriguing that there are so few examples, played out in such detail. Are there more examples of these things, or perhaps the author is using a bit of selectivity to make his case for this "war?" The US is a huge country and we've been celebrating Christmas for quite some time. How many millions of Christmases weren't destroyed by this war? For every example he gives, are there ten thousand examples to counterpoint that? Are there any situations where Christmas was used to oppress the religiousness of others that somehow didn't make the cut? I'm willing to guess yeah. Lots. This is a one-sided argument that doesn't even - for a second - take for granted that what's not in the book matters in the least, and what's not in the book is far more representative of what's going on than the examples selected exclusively to build his point.

A war is something that's organized. There's no War on Christmas pamphlets going out. I know it seems so odd, but the fact is, these changes are a direct result of our nation becoming more comfortable with diversity. A store telling you "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas" is simply admitting that you are a stranger and they could not or should not presume your religious affiliation. Is telling a Jewish person "Merry Christmas" going to offend them? Only in that you are making assumptions about them that aren't true. Saying "Happy Holidays" isn't an affront to Christians; it's an acceptance of the fact that not all of us belong to the same faith or ideals.

In my eyes, Christmas is officially a secular holiday, and it is completely possible for a government building to display pictures of Santa Claus, candy canes, and snowflakes. What you can't do is display a baby Jesus, because even if Christmas is secular, there's no way the Son of God ever could be. I personally find manger scenes to be offensive, but not because they are stupid. It's because everybody in them are white. It shows a grotesque misunderstanding of the time period and geographical location of the scene it's portraying. But I'm not going to make anybody take it down unless it does something else even more offensive, such as suggest that the government prefers one religion or another, or that it is done with tax payer dollars and excludes the interests of some of the very people which helped pay for it.

The last chapter in the book is entitled "The War on Christmas." If there is a war against them, and I'm a little more willing to believe this, it is a result of their own actions. When they try to remove evolution from science classes and replace it with thinly veiled religious myths, they are going to make enemies. When they tell gay people that they aren't entitled to the same civil rights as everyone else, they're going to make enemies. If they picket Planned Parenthoods, they are going to make enemies. If there is indeed a war, it's their war, and we are only trying to defend ourselves from them.

but the thing that really pissed me off about this chapter is that he reproduces some letter sent in to some random newspaper. The letter is simply someone complaining about people putting "Jesus has risen" signs in their yards, and says that it seems combative, like posting a pro-life sign in their yard. He didn't think people needed to draw battle lines starting at their front door, and suggested that faith should be something that is personal. Gibson (the author of The War on Christmas) totally rips into him for this.

I re-read the letter, and it wasn't offensive. It was complaining, but not unfairly and it made a couple of good points. It did not insult anybody nor did it attack anybody, but simply engaged in a debate about this practice. As people whom I interact with regularly know, I believe that the debate is everything, and when you can't have a debate, that's when you need it all the more. I really couldn't figure out why he was ripped into.

Gibson goes into a little bit about free speech and how the letter writer needs to appreciate that people have the right to speak, even if he doesn't want to hear it. I re-read the letter again. the guy never said they couldn't put signs in their yard. He wasn't trying to limit their free speech. He was just pointing out that it was a confrontational practice that he didn't agree with. Gibson needs to learn that one of the consequences of free speech is that anything you say can be challenged by someone else. If someone says something that you disagree with, it is your duty to respond in debate.

The next thing Gibson says is that this country was founded by "religionists." I'm not sure if that's a real word or not, but I assume that he means Christians. Problem is, he's wrong. Many of the founding fathers of this great nation were not Christians, but were, in fact, deists. They believed in some sort of non-interactive deity and did not participate in worship at all. In fact, Thomas Jefferson released a version of the Bible without all the fancy miracles and stuff written about Jesus, leaving just a man and his moral teachings.

This country was not founded on Christian ideals, but rather against them. The government was created in such a way that no one religion could ever take control of it and dominate the populace. Whatever you believe, you can and the government will never think better or worse of you because of it. I don't know where these psychos get the impression that there's hidden code in the Constitution that gives Christians the run of the country, but the simple fact is this country was created to prevent them from taking over, not give them the keys. You'd think that an educated news anchor like himself would at least know this much.

Geez, we already have abortions, but we have to defend it against Christian morals. We already have evolution, but we have to defend it against Christian beliefs. We already have the freedom to engage in behavior of our choosing in the privacy of our own homes, and we have to defend that, as well. We don't have gay marriage, but we are increasingly being left behind in this regard. There's a war in this country, but it's not against Christmas. It is started and engaged in by people who are against diversity and equal rights.

It is, in no uncertain terms, a war for America and I, for one, won't let the ignorant win.

The Game of Blame

2010-11-16T20:37:00.004-05:00

Warning: Tonight's topic of discussion is what some would deem "controversial." Certain subjects touched upon tonight can easily be deemed offensive, crude, and downright disrespectful. If any of this bothers you, then do not read past the italicized text.

I've been doing a lot of thinking, lately. I've been ruminating on all sorts of subjects, from what I'm doing with my life to the meaning of existence as a whole. Most of all, though, I've been seeking answers.

I have so many questions, and so few answers to them, but that's alright. We're all in the same boat. We all have questions and inquiries that just can't be answered, for one reason or another. The one answer I have obtained, however, is an important one:

We have nobody to blame for the bad things that happen in our lives but ourselves.

Just about every single bad thing that happens in life is a result - either direct or indirect - of some bad decision or, worse yet, an indecision, that you've made. I know that probably makes a lot of you reading this feel very uncomfortable, as it well should. It's not an easy fact to face, and an even harder one to swallow.

Let's pretend for a moment that you are a parent. If you're already a parent, then this shouldn't be too hard. Anyway, your child has reached - or surpassed - the age where the decision-making process is left up to them. You no longer are in charge of what decisions are made for them, to a degree, and your job has now shifted to teaching that child about the cause and effect of their ability to choose a good decision over a bad one, while shying away from indecisions.

The child wants to go and play outside. Seeing as how the child is old enough to be outside without constant supervision, and you're preparing dinner, you let them outside on the premise that they have to keep their coat on. They agree, but no sooner are they out of your line of sight do they have their coat off and are running around in chilly weather without a care or worry in the world. The next day, however, they come down with a cold. Why? Because they didn't listen to you, the parent, about keeping their coat on.

This example is one that I had to use earlier to explain this particular viewpoint. While it serves its purpose in giving somebody a basic understanding about how I see the world at work, it really doesn't do the perspective a whole lot of justice.

I am a firm believer in Occam's razor, which basically states that the simplest explanation is more often than not the best one. With this particular idea in mind, I propose to you all that everything bad you are facing right now is your own fault, and nobody else's.

Consider the people who are constantly complaining about being broke and not having money to pay rent or bills, and yet they have a brand new sound system for their car, or expensive new shoes. If you are one of these people, tell me why you had the money for these frivolous items, and yet not enough to pay your rent/bills? What was the rationality followed for this decision? I really can't imagine needing these things more than, say, shelter or food.

A more extreme example of this can be found in the people who stay in abusive relationships. I really have no sympathy for people in this position, as it's one that is quite easily changed. While I know a lot of you are cringing right now, all I ask is that you hear me out.

Say you have a friend who entered a relationship, unaware that the person they started to date is an abusive jerk. As soon as this facet of personality is revealed, the logical thing to do is to get out of there. Instead, these people stay in this relationship. Why, I will never know.

I understand that there are some deeply rooted psychological issues that are involved with this situation, and that's well and good. However, there is such a thing as a point where one comes face to face with reason, and should just walk away forever. It's really not that hard to do, even if it seems like the odds against you are insurmountable. If you're a person stuck in an abusive relationship, and you're staying with the abuser due to some ill-conceived notion of love, then you are an idiot, and deserve what you are getting. As much of a jerk as that makes me sound, that's just how I feel about it. The same is said for those of you that are staying together "for the kids." You're doing more harm to those kids than you are good by staying with someone like that, and you need to wake up and realize it.

This brings me to the next point of the discussion. We've covered the cause, and now I feel it appropriate to talk about the effect.

There's a lot that goes through our heads in a short amount of time as we go about making decisions. However, there is one thing that I find most people these days are lacking, and that's an ability to see past the moment and come to the realization that there are consequences for every single action that you take. The problem is that these consequences don't always affect just you, even if it seems that way at the time.

You're a smoker. You've been smoking for years, and you have absolutely no intention of quitting any time soon. When you have a family, though, any sense of common decency says to change your ways. But if you continue to smoke, you're doing a lot of damage to your family, even if the affects aren't immediate. You are putting yourself at a high risk of contracting some form of cancer, and that is quite the devastating experience to all of your family, not to mention your friends. On top of that, you're setting the example for any child you may have that smoking is something that is okay to do. As a result of your decision, the people that you care about now have to sit back and watch you die slowly, and that is not a pleasant experience for anybody. In the end, though, you've got nobody to blame for it but yourself.

These ripples don't only exist in the extreme, though. They also exist in the mundane. In a past entry, I used an example of this kind of mentality by talking about a missed homework assignment. This is the same thing.

Say you decide to call out of work for a day, because you just didn't feel like going in. Because you called out of work, you miss a day of pay. This missed day of pay could have made the difference in being able to afford a new refrigerator when yours blows out, but since you made the choice to call out, you're now stuck for two weeks without a functioning food storage unit. The problem is, the malfunction didn't happen until about a week after you called out, and the reality of what you did doesn't hit you until your next paycheck, which is short on money because you missed a day. Sucks, doesn't it?

I'm not immune to all of this. I'm not known for making good decisions, myself. As a matter of fact, my track record when it comes to choices is pretty much as bad as the Spanish Inquisition.

As it currently stands, I work a job that I hate and pays me like a true wage slave. The sheer amount of absurdity that I have to deal with on a regular basis is enough to drive any man absolutely bonkers. This is, in all honesty, my own fault. I didn't finish school, and nobody else made that choice for me. If I really wanted to, I could have found a way to stay.

I have no car, because I didn't properly maintain the one I had. I also made a bad decision in purchasing a car that was manufactured by a people that can't even properly defend their own borders. Admittedly, I wasn't very responsible with the car, and if I would have made better choices, I wouldn't be in this situation now.

Keep in mind, folks, that I'm not exactly complaining about my station in life. I have come to accept the fact that I'm here for a reason, and that reason is a lack of good decision-making in my past. While I'm currently working towards a better tomorrow, I have to face the fact that my situation is what it is.

Ultimately, the choices that you make are your own. I can do nothing more to influence them than what I'm doing now, and I'm alright with that. You're going to do what you do, just as I'm going to do. The question, though, is do you have what it takes to accept responsibility for what you've done?

Beautiful Ugliness

2010-11-08T21:19:00.003-05:00

There's an adage that states "beauty is in the eyes of the beholder." In the world these days, I think that we often forget that.

I was messing around on Facebook yesterday, and this happened. For the rest of the night and pretty much all day today, I've been mulling over what the hell happened, there. Beyond the obvious breakdown in communication that using nothing but text causes more often than not, I mean.

A new friend happened to tell me that he agreed with what was really a joke on my part... I have no such extreme stance on makeovers, though I tend to disagree with people getting them. It's not so much the makeover itself that I have the problem with, though. It's the rationality that people use to make the decision to get one.

From a very early age, women are being told what is and isn't beautiful. From the way that they are being shown through their toys all the way to their adulthood, they are being blasted by what is, in all honesty, a rather impossible standard of beauty and how they should look to be considered beautiful.

This is not something that I'm alright with, truth be told. I'm not saying that there isn't such a thing as an ugly woman - far from it. However, it's as I said earlier... beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. I personally find women who wear overly revealing clothing along with tons of makeup to be revolting. These are the ones who are caught up in the superficiality that has become the culture of the modern American woman. These are the ones that will keep up with the latest fashion trends in their social class, because that's all that they know how to do. I find it quite pathetic.

In my honest opinion, modesty honors beauty. There is no reason that a woman should be made to feel ugly because she doesn't look like a Barbie. There is no reason for a woman to feel fat because she can't fit into a size 0 or 2. There is absolutely no reason whatsoever for her breasts to be hanging out of her shirt so much that there is no room for the imagination.

I'm not quite sure when things gravitated to this particular route, but it's causing more problems within our society than what it's worth. Women out there are depressed because they "aren't beautiful enough." They are feeling unnecessarily bad about themselves because they can't look like a hooker.

What's wrong with this picture?

I'm not saying that women shouldn't get makeovers. Far from it. If someone needs a boost to the almighty self-esteem, then they should get it. However, they need to get it for the right reasons. They shouldn't get it because they feel that's what is expected of them. They shouldn't get one if all they are trying to do is fit in with the norm. They damned sure shouldn't get it because they feel that having a makeover will change them as a person altogether. If you're feeling bad about the way you are, it's because of some other issue than your looks, and changing your appearance isn't going to help with that.

I could keep on going with a whole slew of reasons, but I really don't want this particular post to be an extensive one. There are plenty of salons out there, ladies, that will help you realize how beautiful you really are, and they won't fill your head with tons of false ideologies about why having the makeover to begin with is going to change you as a person and make your life so much better. That's false advertising, and you need to be wary of it.

After speaking with Mrs. Suders and her husband both, I am convinced that she is no charlatan, and does good work and provides what is, sadly, a much-needed service in this day and age. She helps women realize that they really are beautiful, and she doesn't need to use a ton of garbage to help her in bringing the lost souls to enlightenment.

That's all for now. I may end up following this up with something a little more well thought-out tomorrow, but more than likely not until Saturday. I promise that the next one will be a little bit more thought-provoking.

Column A and Column B

2010-11-05T10:09:00.002-05:00

There is a sad fact out there that we, as a people, argue about our differences. We argue about politics because we have different opinions of what we want from government. We argue about religion because we have different beliefs of what it means to be a good person and what happens when you die. We argue about whether World of Warcraft is better than Everquest 2 because we want different things from our gaming experiences. These arguments will never be won because these differences can never be changed. We are all different in every way, and we always will be. Never is this a bad thing, but sometimes, we forget that people aren't all the same.

Say we like to listen to jazz music, and we try to get others to listen to it. Partly, it's because we think we are nice people and want to share this great thing which has enriched our lives. Well, if that were only the case, why would there be arguments over whether classical is better than jazz, and heavy metal reigns supreme over rap? Because we don't just do it for the other person's benefit. We do it to justify our own position. If we can convince someone else to like what we like, then that makes the bond we have with them stronger, and makes that like more defensible.

Or does it?

When it comes right down to it, we put ourselves out there with what we like. It's too easy to say "Anybody who likes XXX is a moron" and hurt those peoples' feelings. Mocking anything will always be safer than admitting you enjoy it. That's why things like South Park and, sometimes, Penny Arcade seem cowardly to me, at times. When you refuse to take a stance, you are basically going on a tiny little superiority trip. You are better than everyone who likes XXX because they must be a moron to like something you see no value in.

I think that sometimes we forget that we don't have the same values. I may feel a little superior to people who think Jeff Foxworthy is funny, but then, I didn't grow up in the kind of households that can identify with his jokes. I laugh at jokes that take on a political, observant and even mathematical nature because I've studied enough of these subjects that I can get them. I don't think it's geeky to laugh at a math joke. It's geeky to know enough math to get the joke. If you don't get math jokes, you feel left out. To feel better, you attribute some sort of problem with liking math jokes.

Even beyond nurture, we've got nature to thank. We are not created equal, in a sense, because we each have very different things to bring to and take from the table of life. These things are not as simplistic as you may initially think, either. We have different things which we need in order to function, and as strange as it sounds, this need is not what we generally credit. We have this perception that we need basic things like food, shelter, exercise, clothes, and stuff like that. True as it may be that those basic needs are there to keep the body running, what about the mind? Or the spirit? What do those need?

This is different between people. In my case, I need to be creative, and will do anything to keep my creative juices flowing. I know that I'm a smart individual, and yet I dropped out of college. The reason is because I didn't have the room I needed to be creative. Well, that and other complications, but mostly the creative thing. I've quit more than a few jobs that I've had in the past in complete disgust because I was typically shoved into a retail environment or a cubicle of some sort and told to do work in a very specific, and typically non-agreeable way. I need to find my path between A and B. My path has to be none other than my own. It cannot be your path.

This need for creativity presses down on all aspects of my life. Tasks which require no creativity are essentially like pressing needles into my eyes. Yes, I am fully capable of doing these things. It's just that I never really think to do them. It's kind of like doing all your homework, only to find out the next day that you forgot to do an English paper that was due. It's like you meant to write it, but it slipped your mind because it wasn't important to you. You knew you'd get it done in no time, so you didn't worry about it. It was just such a non-event that it never even registered with you.

As such, I'm pretty much socially retarded. I can't do simple things like operate a washer, because the second I learn how to use it, that information is gone within ten minutes. In all honesty, I sometimes forget how to properly put on my socks. These are what I could consider flaws. They prevent me from ever functioning in the real world, but that doesn't mean that I can't contribute to it. I created this blog, as well as the short stories that I've been writing lately, because the only way I can contribute to the world is if I am my own worldly boss and have the freedom to explore my creativity in every way.

There are people in my life right now that are completely unlike me. They are responsible and dependable in every way that I am not. I will tell you right now that as much creativity as I have, you wouldn't be reading this right now were it not for one of those people.

There are other outside influences to consider, as well. The people who run this site, for example, are the ones who got the domain name, deal with the server stuff, etc.

All told, the only thing that I do with this blog is provide an opinion that a vast majority of people I show this to simply look over. I have every reason to believe that I can make a modest living off of my writing abilities, but that takes time which God provides me. It takes technical support which He delivers. And it takes patience, of which He has an infinite amount.

When it comes down to it, it's the talents of people who aren't me that make everything that I do possible. We do our parts to make sure that the things I write remain either funny, edifying, or, at the very least, not a total waste of time. Without God, there'd be no creativity n me. Without the people who run this site, there'd be no blog here for you to read. Without the support of my friends, I probably never would have gotten to the point where I started this thing up again.

I've started probably over a thousand different creative projects, and only finished maybe two or three of them. Why? Because I went at them alone. That mistake caused each project to be abandoned after only a few days. Weeks, at most.

My friend and I are in the process of creating a comic in the hopes of putting here on the Interwebz for the enjoyment of all who happen to stumble upon it. Being an artist is something he knows about and is good at, which means that he can support this project well past where I would've gotten frustrated and quit. This comic exists because he helps it to do so. That, and he's willing to pick me up and slap me silly until I have the drive to get things done.

It's not that I'm incapable of doing these things. It is within my ability to learn how to do things like that, I'm sure, just like it's completely in Jon's ability to write out a lot of the script and storyline. I think the reason we are good at the things we do is because we have no uncertainty when it comes to working towards our strengths. When I write anything, it is completely within my creative power. I'm in control. When Jon does something as simple as change a few minor details in one of the panels, he's in control. Or at least controlling his involvement with it. But when the roles are switched, there is a certain amount of uncertainty that we both would face. I am not naturally dependable, and being so is quite draining for me. I expect that he isn't quite as good at writing things as I am (not sure, because the subject hasn't really ever come up), and being so is probably quite draining for him, as well.

It's easy to see how this blog wouldn't exist without me to paint pictures with my words. That's almost too obvious. What isn't, though, is that creativity is too crafty to exist in a vacuum. If you can create an entry that was actually awesome to read, then you can write pretty much anything else out there. Everything will fail at the slightest weakness, though, but there's always a new creative project ready to take its place. Every project that I've ever tried to do has failed except the comic that I'm working on now with Jon - and that's because this isn't just my project. It's our project; it belongs to Jon, myself, and everybody that's been giving us feedback since its inception.

So maybe being different isn't so bad. When you are flawed, perhaps there is someone else out there equally flawed, but in different ways. Maybe the fact that we disagree in politics is what keeps us honest. Maybe the Conservatives complete the Liberals, and vice versa. They are weak individually, but together are capable of making a tiny group of thirteen colonies and eventually becoming one of the most powerful nations in the world. With just one viewpoint, this country would've crumbled under its own weight centuries ago.

If we all belonged to one religion, we'd all be extremists. We wouldn't have conflicting points of view to keep us honest. We'd ignore science, and pretend that dinosaurs didn't exist. We'd truly be in a third-world dark age. But science alone is amoral. Religion keeps science sane; keeps it from going too far. There are a million questions out there that science can answer that perhaps we shouldn't be in such a hurry to discover just yet. WE can move slowly because society can't handle the kind of all-encompassing changes that science can go through on a regular basis. They are at odds with each other, but in a strange way, they support each other through their differences.

I present to you that it is our differences which make us stronger. I don't think I've ever really appreciated that, before. I've paid lip service to the idea, surely, but it never really hit home until just recently. We are different. We should be different. And no matter how much it angers us that someone else isn't like us, the solution isn't to despise one another. By all means, stay mad - so long as it keeps you honest. But understand that it would really suck if we were all the same.

Of Prophets and Madmen

2010-10-26T22:10:00.002-05:00

While I realize the category of tonight's topic is a rather pretentious one, please be aware that it only implies a level of ostentation that I'm not willing to deliver.

I've been going back to some of the old classics... the ones that most would consider either agonizingly boring, or luridly fascinating. I admit to falling into the latter. I have gone back to read titles from Vonnegut, George Orwell, and Huxley. One thing that I've noticed about these authors is that they are all most known for writing novels where society is portrayed in some horrific manner or another. Honestly, this theme is regurgitated ad nauseum all throughout a good portion of books by these literary minds.

People react to this pattern in different ways. Some consider it brilliant, for various reasons. There are those who find it trite and cliched. The ignorant should, for the sake of this discussion, be taken into consideration, as well. As far as I'm concerned, none of these answers would be wrong.

What I'm here to talk about tonight is my take on three novels - one each by the aforementioned authors.

The first novel is entitled "Player Piano," written by Vonnegut. Of the three, it is probably the darkest take on society - even moreso when applied to conventional standards - and yet is the lightest in its presentation. Vonnegut was known for his dark sense of humor; one that constantly felt like a razor tongue-in-cheek along open sores.

In this novel, society is presented in a caste system comprising of two parts; the rich and the poor. The poor were the people whose main purposes in society before World War II were replaced by machines. The well to do were those that were the engineers and managers that kept society going as what they viewed was a well-oiled machine.

Through a series of events that, in the spirit of saving time in writing what is honestly going to be a rather extensive post, as well as the hope of you all finding a copy of this book and reading it yourselves, I will not get into, Paul finds himself faced with a choice that calls into question all of his fears, worries, and doubts. He is given the choice of fame and fortune, or being the figurehead of a kind of rebellion against the machine society.

The ending is darkly realistic, to the point of being cynical. However, it was brilliantly written and handled in such a way as it invokes feeling in the reader in some fashion or another. For me, it led me through yet another doorway of perception that I just can't stop thinking about.

You see, Paul was someone who was on the inside, and came to realize just how messed up everything really was. He saw how people were gaining off of the suffering of others, and how cut-throat his world really was. He wasn't okay with that. I have to admit that I'm not, either.

This particular theme is found earlier in literary history, in the title "Brave New World," written by Aldoux Huxley. The similarities are there mostly because this is the novel that "inspired" Vonnegut's tale. He was actually quoted as saying that he "cheerfully ripped off of Brave New World, just like Brave New World cheerfully ripped off of Yevgeny Zamyitan's We."

Anyways, all plagiarism aside, Brave New World has society cast in what has to be the scariest ways of the three books. Society was broken down into five main castes - Alphas, Betas, Gammas, Deltas, and Epsilons - with a sixth caste, who were referred to as "Savages," that were known about, but never really considered to really be people to begin with.

In this society, the people all take a drug known as Soma, which, incidentally enough, is an allusion to a mythical drink of the same name that was consumed by Indo-Aryans. This drug would cause hallucinations of varying intensity, and give the members of this dystopian society a "vacation." The society could be described as absolutely hedonistic, at best, and there are things wrong with it that would make any person of any real values flinch.

Sexual activity is something that is encouraged from early childhood. The idea that "everybody belongs to everybody else" is repeated so often, that one could easily - and understandably - draw the conclusion that it is some form of mantra. Reproduction has been rendered obsolete, and the emotion of love doesn't ever factor into their lives as anything more than a pornographic thought.

Another taboo is the idea of alone time. The whole idea of "conform, consume, obey" is pounded into their heads from such an early age that this is what they end up doing - always consuming and never being alone. If you're not out participating in the latest trends with everybody else, or screwing some "friend" for the day, you are ostracized from the society, and you are never looked at the same again. Conventional wisdom says that you are doing it to yourself, and therefore, nobody ever bothers to attempt to help.

The idea of being an individual is a radical one. Nobody dares to try, because nobody wants to be different. Well, most of them don't. Enter Brenard, one of the three main characters of the tale.

Brenard is an Alpha Plus, and a psychologist. He is shorter than average height for his cast - a deformity, in the eyes of this society - and therefore suffers from an inferiority complex. Like Paul Proteus from the previously discussed title, he is an insider looking out, and sees many things wrong with what is going on around him. He even once denounces the soma drug, instead proclaiming that he'd "rather be himself."

This certainly earns no points with the rest of society, but it does usher in the attraction from the second main character, Lenina. She has her own complexes, but unlike her counterpart, is socially accepted. The only gripe against her is that she "isn't promiscuous enough."

...

Anyhow, while out and about with each other one day, they end up in a reservation for the "savages." They find a woman named Linda, who was once a member of the caste society, but mistimed her birth control dosage and consequently became pregnant. She misses her little world of random sex and drugs, and so talks Brenard and Lenina into taking her and her son, John, back to the "brave new world."

John is instantly afforded a sort of celebrity status. Not only is he something new and different for the masses to consume, but he is what they know as a "savage," as well. As he finds himself going deeper into the rabbit hole that leads to this bastardized Wonderland, he becomes deeply troubled by what he sees. It's nothing like what his mother told him it was, and it causes him much grief.

Again, there are a lot of events to cover that I'm just not willing to go into. The philosophy behind the book is a look at a godless society and what it does to people, and makes us question our humanity. At least, that's what it's intended to do. The problem is, I feel that this is the direction that we, as a people, are heading.

Everywhere I look, I am constantly reminded of the differences between the people of today's society. I often see people of other classes mingling with each other sporadically. I am guilty of this. However, I've lately been questioning the motives behind it. What are we doing, when we do this? Are we looking to vicariously have some experience that we can later tell stories about? Or are we legitimately seeking companionship regardless of the social boundaries that will invariably separate us all eventually, despite our feelings of it happening?

This book is succeeding in a prophesy. It's doing so because it failed as a warning. Had someone, somewhere along the line taken the time to think about it, things might be different today. But, with the advent of capitalism, it all died.

One book that did succeed as a warning, however, was "1984," written by a one George Orwell.

Wells depicts society in a totalitarian state. The government rules all, knows all, sees all, and is never questioned. Those that are questioned are shot. Their executions are almost always public, and everybody cheers.

The story follows the life of Winston, an employee of the government who is in charge of altering history records to bolster the illusion of Big Brother being pansophical. His position allows him to become disillusioned to everything that's going on around him, and this leads to his rebellion. It also leads to torture and his eventual conversion, but you'd have to read about that, yourself.

The point is that we find yet another person on the inside of some seemingly magical society where all of our wants and needs are taken care of, but at the cost of the very things that continue to make us human.

I probably shouldn't be reading these things, as I am now at a point where I no longer crave to be a member of this society. I see it going in a direction that I don't like, and I have no other way than this to express that. I now crave nothing more than a constant state of disassociation.

Yet at the same time, I want to help.

I just don't know how.

If You Can't Do Something Right...

2010-10-18T20:29:00.002-05:00

Warning: This blog entry contains adult language and mature subject matter. If you think you might be offended by something I may say, please try something a little more suited to your tastes instead.

Before we start this off today, I am going to go ahead and do the full-disclosure thing and let you all know that this is a rather pointed entry, but it's something that needs to be discussed anyway.

Is it just me, or is the collective insult vernacular of the Internet almost exclusively reserved to things like "asshat," "fucktard," and "douchebag?" Those aren't witty, and they certainly don't do you any favors. It's like a man with glasses calling a monocled chap "Two Eyes." The secret to insulting someone is not to appear a total moron. You want to seem smarter than they are.

At the very least, make up your own insults. Really. What you've got out there just doesn't insult me. Douchebag? I'm pretty sure that went out of style in the early '90's. And perhaps it is not wise to point out that one who is a douchebag is still going to get a lot closer to a vagina than you ever will in your lifetime.

Asshat? Am I missing some sort of meaning to it, or does it really just mean a hat which rests upon one's behind? Condoms are kind of hats, I guess, but again... we don't want to remind your opponent that you've only read about sex on the Internet. So, is an asshat like a butt condom or something? Or maybe it's a pair of underpants. With skidmarks? Trust me, there are far better insults involving skidmarks than "asshat."

Fucktard. That oh-so-witty combination of "fucking" and "retard." Beautiful. Let's take two offensive words, keep the stressed syllables, and create a new wondrous word of insult. Sorry, guys. It's not that witty. Witty can never be confined to one word. It requires intelligence to produce wit - something I fear is quite lacking on the Internet, these days. It doesn't require intelligence to call someone else a dirty name; it doesn't even show intelligence.

If you really want to insult someone, then you've got to know how. The great art of insulting is a beautiful thing; something that can be appreciated long after the original cause is lost. Check out some of these quotes from Oscar Wilde. They were so insulting that they were remembered over 100 years after they were said.

"Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months."

"I am not young enough to know everything."

"Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation."

"It is better to have a permanent income than to be fascinating."

"Whenever people agree with me, I always feel I must be wrong."

You see? Not a single "asshat" or "douchebag" in the bunch. and these are biting insults of the highest caliber. They write books about a quality insult. I'm not talking about those books that you buy at the Book Fair in Middle School which proclaims "You look like a million bucks! All green and wrinkled!" to be the zenith of contemporary wit. I'm talking about those nice leather-bound books that speech writers like to cling to as if they were their only child.

So, before you decide to write off that e-mail or Facebook post proclaiming me to be an "asshat" or a "pompous know-it-all," just remember that you aren't impressing me. Seriously, after about a dozen or so of them all strung together that feature practically the same words, you aren't even standing out in a crowd. One guy said "Trollololol." This means he sought out to make me angry, for at least part of my day. Not quite... I can't get angry over something so damned pathetic. Pity is the only emotion that he was able to eke out of me.

Put your backs into it, now! Use some wit. Impress me. Make me feel worse! Don't contribute to me feeling superior! Don't prove me right! Come on. Be original. I'm sure it's possible. I wouldn't want to live in a world where it wasn't, because if there's one thing this world doesn't need, it's another asshole of limited intelligence.

Apples and Oranges

2010-10-12T00:44:00.003-05:00

Often times, I confuse people. I understand how I can be confusing. My style of writing is a far cry from how I speak on a day-to-day basis. My actions are the kind that often leave people wondering "What the hell?" I know for a fact that there are many out there who, after my novelty wears off and they realize that it's not really an act, cannot stand me. I understand this, but I will not offer any apologies for it.

Back in April, I went into extensive detail about the way that I am, in hopes that some people would derive a better understanding of how my mind works. I also touched a bit on the fact of why I love writing so much. I have since tried to continue with this trend, using the blessing of anonymity that the Internet provides as a way to really let people take a look inside.... hence the title of the blog itself.

For those that don't know, I like to consider myself an avid gamer. While I'm sure that whatever credibility I have built up has gone right out the window for some people with that statement, I assure you that this entry has very little to do with video games. I'm honestly not sure what to talk about tonight, and am just kind of... going with it.

I read this blog on a regular basis. The things that Pojut talks about interest and intrigue me. I'm sure that many of you can get some enjoyment out of it, as well. The things that he talks about certainly warrant their own discussions in and of themselves, as often times I find this man's ramblings rather inspirational.

So, it is in this spirit that I figured I would give a shot at writing something meaningful about something that's equally meaningless. Maybe about how apples are better than oranges. You see, I personally believe that, if done correctly, a rant such as this could show how important reasoned decision-making is, even when the stakes are low.

Interestingly enough, this is where I end up getting into the most trouble with my peers. You see, when you put what is generally labeled as "deep thought" into the nature of our very existence, people tend to react with "Ah, yes. Deep thoughts are good." However, when you put it into something that most people consider meaningless, they turn on you like rabid hyenas.

I've always come from the approach that there's no such thing as "over-thinking." There's poor reasoning and timorousness which can cause people to mistrust their thinking, thus believing that over-thinking can be a bad thing. The reality of this situation, as I see it, is that it's just bad over-thinking that's horrible. The main problem is that people simply don't know the difference.

I've noticed, for example, with my detached observation, that people park stupid. Whenever I go to any destination that whimsy carries me, I often see people driving around, desperately seeking that "good" parking space. The problem, however, is they only really look in the two lanes in front of the door. Invariably, they'll end up parking father out by relying on those two lanes than if they parked three lanes over. It's almost as if they have poor spatial reasoning.

When I park, I always do it fairly close to the door. I do it because of the fact that in certain regions, this kind of thing could very well be a survival requirement. I never have to follow cars around the parking lot, and I generally get the same spot every single time. At the local mall, I have this great spot - I have to walk through a department store rather than going through the main entrance, but it's a small price to pay when one considers the expediency of such a space. It has shade, it's close to the door, has very little traffic, and is typically always available, except for the chaotic time of the year that is the holidays.

"But, dude," you might say. "It's just a parking space."

I figure that's the kind of reaction I would get out of most of the people who are reading this. They would be correct. It is just a parking space, and nothing of any real consequence whatsoever. You walk maybe an extra hundred and fifty feet by choosing poorly. However, it's like the people who go through the mall food court rather than around it, preferring to move dozens of chairs and other furniture out of the way while navigating through throngs of people rather than taking a path that is essentially equidistance without the obstacles. The shortest path between two spots isn't always a straight line, but who cares? You move a few chairs and have to say "excuse me" a few times. It's not the end of the world.

The only way that I can think of to respond to that is to say that you can't fault someone for thinking about the problem any more than I can fault someone for not thinking about it. It may not be important, but there is a better solution and I don't exactly have to whip out a calculator to figure it out. You've probably timed two or more different routes driving hoe and that's no more important than where and how you park.

I go to movie theaters to watch the films. It's rarely ever a group thing, and I expect complete silence from those around me, because I really like being drawn into a movie if it manages to spark my interest. Granted, this event rarely occurs these days, but when it does, I can't do it when some moronic child whose parents can't control it is mindlessly throwing popcorn at the screen and screaming "In bed!" after nearly every line.

I used to ask the talking audience member to be quiet. I kind of stopped doing so when after one day, it nearly lead to violence to my person. I wasn't being particularly impudent or even querulous in my request. Just goes to show exactly what kind of savages I find myself around on a disturbingly regular basis.

That being said, I've had to figure out a way to go and see movies that involve having the smallest number of audience members of the obnoxious sort. It really only takes one guy to ruin the experience for everybody, but if you consider the times you go, you can reduce the odds.

For instance, don't go at night - especially Friday or Saturday nights. That's the "witching hour" for dates, and also when the theater is most busy. The earlier you go, the less people are there. People have jobs and the ones that don't probably don't actually wake up until the afternoon, anyway. Going during a weekday at the earliest time is your best chance at a small, quiet audience - unless you're going to see a kids movie. Then you go at the latest possible showing, when it's past their bed-time.

The type of movie makes a huge difference, as well. Something like Star Wars can be watched at any time because everything in that movie makes a loud sound. The best part is, when there isn't a loud sound, there's loud music. You don't even have to follow the dialog that much. However, there are movies with a lot of silence, such as suspense films. It's difficult to build suspense as people see quietness as the perfect juncture to converse. When there is a difference between loud and quiet, they'll talk loudly during the quiet parts because they were talking loudly during the other parts, and probably have hearing issues. That, or they're just plain stupid.

The best movies to go to are the ones that don't bring out in droves the mindless automatons that now comprise a vast majority of America's youth and idiotic adults. Find something with subtext and/or subtitles. Either will drive away scores of people you'd rather not watch the movie. Of course, be careful with the subtitle thing. Sometimes, you get the ignoramus behind you that insists on reading them aloud. I had that problem with "Kung Fu Hustle," "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon," and a few others. I'd like to discuss which theater to go to, but I'd really rather not get into all of that.

It used to be that every movie I planned to watch in the theater required a unique formula for deciding exactly when the best showing would be to attend. I swear to you that going to the movies for me these days requires charts and spreadsheets. I don't go to movies hardly at all anymore due to financial issues. Besides, let's face it... when the DVD version comes out three months later, it turns out cheaper than the price of tickets, refreshments, etc. Sometimes, waiting is just worth it.

So, that's how something so simple as choosing when to go to a movie can become a mental struggle. I honestly have more fun thinking about abstract problems, but it's not like I can just turn it off when it comes time to have fun. This is how I have fun. If I see a movie and don't spend some quality time afterwards thinking about it, I consider it a waste of my time. Luckily, my thought process doesn't really require the movie to be any good.

Shutter Island is, of course, the only exception to this. That movie bored me within the first fifteen minutes.

And now... sleep. That's where I'm a pirate, after all.

Plans

2010-10-09T01:18:00.003-05:00

My friends, it is with great pleasure that I announce that I am now President of the United States, here today, in front of my adorning supporters.

Politics is not a topic that I am well-versed in, and, as such, I cannot sit here and tell you all the things that you want to hear. That will put me at a great disadvantage in the upcoming months, because what you want to hear and what you need to hear are not always the same thing.

I am aware of the greatness of this country. Not a day goes by that I am not reminded of what a wonderful and bountiful world that we exist in. However, not a day passes that I am also not reminded of the uncontrolled and unwarranted greed which permeates our entire being. I've seen kind men help little old ladies do their groceries, but I've also seen the same men risk their life and the lives of others running a red to shave a little time off their travelling.

I know what the people of America want, and I'm here to say that you cannot have it.

Everybody wants to be employee of the month. everybody thinks they deserve employee of the month. Problem is, nobody works towards that prestigious title. We all want something for free, and we want more than the next guy. We want to be powerful and rich, and we want it for nothing at all.

I'm here to tell you that you aren't stupid for thinking that, but you are wrong. We need to meet the basic needs of our country before we meet the needs of just you. We need to make sure that sickness is met with the best care. We need to ensure that our schools are filled with the best teachers. We need to guarantee that being poor does not mean being worthless. When money comes in and it is time to section it out, that money needs to go to the people failing to survive day by day, not the people who want a slightly larger television.

The rules of politics, as they are now, dictate that I shouldn't tell you this. They also dictate that I promise you a gold-plated care and your own personal parking space. They dictate that I should make you feel important. Well... you are. Just not like you think you are. We all live in the same society, and our importance in that society is distinct. But getting richer does not increase your importance, and being in poverty greatly destroys it. The way you increase your importance is not based on what you have, but what you do.

Do you have a problem with gays marrying? Abortion? Pre-martial sex? I do, but realistically speaking... tough. We all live in this society together, and I'm not about to let one group of people decide what's best for another group of people who are perfectly capable of making their own decisions. How would you feel if someone came up to you and said that you couldn't worship God? I will protect your right to do just that, exactly as I would protect the right of any citizen of sound mind and body to make the decisions which concern their own welfare and nobody else's.

But what about the people who can't make their own decisions? What about the people who don't want to? These people are hardly worthless. Where they falter in one area, they can more than make up for in others. We will help these people not by making their decisions, but by educating them on how to do it on their own. Even when we help them, the decision to accept our help or go it alone will always be available to them. Only in situations where the well-being of others is at stake will we put in boundaries, and even then, we'll make sure they know where those boundaries are before they decide to cross them.

I'm going to raise taxes, because our government needs the money. We've got a war going on, and we cannot afford it any longer. We've got people dying around the world, and we can't help them. You're just going to buy an SUV that you don't really need, anyway. Tell me that you deserve your money more than a kid who can't get hospital care because his family members are all drug addicts. We've got sick people. We've got poor people. We've got people of one race or religion dominated by people of another race or religion. We've got mutated people, too. We've got crime. We've got wars. It's time to stop watching cable news, and it's time to start doing something about the stuff shown on it. That O'Reilly guy is ugly on an HDTV, anyway.

We live in a varied and beautiful country - just a small part of a varied and beautiful world. In the grand scheme of things, it may be small, but it is important to us because our country means something. It was built upon an ideal; an ideal which has guided our development and culture into a world no other culture could manage. This tiny little ideal has allowed us to explore creativity and technology and take it to extremes undreamed of by even the greatest thinkers of the past. We are done building on the past. We are now paving the future. All of this because of one simple ideal.

All people are treated as equal in the eyes of the law.

I think that we forget what that means, sometimes. We like to think of that when it benefits somebody, but not when it inconveniences them. It means that if people aren't being treated as equal, then we've got to enforce it until they are. It means that wants and needs must be separated and sorted by priority of the want/need itself - no matter how much taxes you pay. It means that schools in poor districts deserve to have the same quality teachers at the rich private schools. It means that if any one group gets too far away from the medium, in either direction, we need to start bringing them back.

You want a new car, but that's because your basic needs are already being taken care of. Some of them by us, the government. That you can even dream of purchasing a $50,000 vehicle, owning your own home, and sending your kids to college means that we are doing our job. But we aren't doing it as well as we used to. We're skimping on the important stuff.

Vote for me. As President, I promise to look out for all the citizens of the United States. I'm going to make a whole lot of you furious, because I'm not running the country the same way you would. Chances are, you may not see the effects of my social and economic plans directly for years, if ever. My name will not go down in history as the greatest President, because the things that to be done take time and they take money, and the immediate rewards are few and far between.

But it's worth it.

I love this country. I love everything that it used to stand for. It's now sick and broken, and I want to help it, because I don't want it to die.

Sick Men and Sugar Pills

2010-10-07T23:25:00.002-05:00

For some reason that is entirely unknown to me, I cannot seem to find the motivation and/or inspiration to finish anything that I start, lately. It doesn't matter what it is, be it a book, video game, blog, parts to the book that I'm writing, or even dialog for the comic that I'm helping to create... I get about two-thirds done, and bam. Brick wall. I've started about four or five different projects, and haven't seen a single one to completion. The popularity - or lack thereof - of my opinions, ideals, theories, conundrums, statistics, and what not when it comes to life, religion, and the like seem based less on what I write, but instead on which side people come into the discussion with. My musings are less to convince anybody - which may be the one thing in this universe which is truly impossible - but just to say some stuff that's been flying around my head, driving me crazy. As such, nobody has been convinced.

This has led to me thinking about a lot of stuff. This rarely leads to good things, but it's what leads to things such as this blog. One thing that's been on my head lately has been something that I've been struggling with off and on my entire life, and it was brought up again on my cousin's Facebook earlier this evening. I can't, for the life of me, understand why, even after being hit in the face with practically irrefutable evidence, still maintain - sometimes even to the point of violence - that a book written in a time when alchemists attempted to turn lead into gold has any kind of merit to modern day life at all.

Full Disclosure: I'm speaking of Leviticus with that statement

Do people want to believe in something so much that they would prefer ignorance to true enlightenment?

Thinking about that, I noticed several other areas where such blinding belief is present. Politics, penis enlargement pills, money-making schemes, ghosts, Atkins, diet pills, and a whole other host of items and agendas. The problem, I think, isn't really these things in particular. I firmly believe that the problem is on the peoples end. These things all focus on fundamental desires and self-esteem issues that people want to believe work - they need to feel it works. They are all placebos for self-esteem.

Say you are a moderately overweight person, and this aspect of your life has caused much harm to your day-to-day living. You cant' get dates. Other people are constantly making fun of your weight. You are insecure to the nth degree. You see a commercial for an electric belt that shocks your muscles into exercising, all without ever having to leave the comfort of the recliner that got you into this position in the first place. The infomercial shows hot, bronzed, muscular bodies of people half your age. Forget for a second that they've got muscles in places that the belt doesn't affect. You want to believe that dream because the alternative is so distasteful.

So, you order the belt.

The first time you plug it in, your body sweats, causing the belt to short-circuit and electrocute you. If you think I'm kidding, I'm not. This kind of thing really happens.

Weight is something that requires knowledge and work to maintain. The fact that exercise is difficult and boring, and your day-to-day life is too busy to take the time, it is really easy to want to buy into a something-for-nothing plan. Even if exercise is beyond you, that weight problem still controls you.

The problem, my friends, isn't that you believe penis-enlargement pills actually work. It's that you want to believe. Your self-esteem is controlling you from behind the scenes to make you feel better about yourself. Even faced with evidence to the alternative, that need to feel okay is more important. Nothing is more important.

Right?

Anyways, when it comes to literal interpretations of the Bible, it isn't really about whether the Bible is true or not. According to science, it's not by any objective measure in existence. That's not really what the debate is about, though. It's really what the arguments are about. It's because for some people, to deny the Bible is to deny God. God is such a large part of their very being that not only would living without God leave a hole in their self, it would mean that those many years spent believing were a lie. The same could be said about scientists on the day that God decides to show Himself.

But see, that's all okay. You don't have to deny God to interpret the Bible in a different way. You just have to deny the way that you've been choosing to honor Him. That's difficult, and not something just anybody will jump in to. It is a problem at the very core of self-esteem, and self-esteem has a defense mechanism that could floor King Kong if it wanted. People die because of self-esteem. The only way to overcome it is to recognize what you are doing and make that choice. We can't make it for you.

I imagine that it must be a scary prospect to be alone in this universe; to go into nothingness when you die... to not have those pearly white gates waiting for you, or to have a giant friendly figure who has reason for even the most senseless events. when your friend dies, it's comforting to think that he or she is okay - somewhere out there. It's a fundamental fear that everyone shares, kind of like contracting cancer or being inadequate in the eyes of those you care most about.

What I'm getting at with all of this, folks, is that religion is a placebo effect. It exists to make you feel better, as well as to control you. No real purposes beyond that, as far as I'm concerned. But, just like the things I listed above, people can take advantage of that need to feel purpose. They can offer sugar pills for $50 and claim that they will make you more attractive and confident, and people will buy them. They are taking advantage of a tiny hairline fracture in our self-esteem, and some people aren't strong enough to fight it.

I am anti-religion, but by no means am I anti-God. There are a lot of good things that have come from it, sure, but only on a small scale. These are things like communities, good deeds, and a direction toward friendship. There are also a lot of bad things that have sprung up from religion, and they're quite famous. The Inquisition, the Crusades, people murdering doctors that perform abortions (which I find hilariously ironic), trying to discredit science to gain support for creationism rather than using science to prove it. Some people take advantage of this placebo to control you.

To blindly follow is built into our very genes. It is a natural consequence of living. The callow follow the strong-willed. You have to be careful of who you follow. A good leader is one who can follow his own agenda while making his followers think it's theirs, too. All I'm saying is beware. Quacks and charlatans are out there in force, and it would be a mistake to think that whatever you believe with all your heart doesn't have plenty of both.

Watch the Weather Change

2010-10-04T03:04:00.002-05:00

It's been a while since I've posted in this blog. From the history, it seems that I haven't written in this dusty thing since May. Sorry about that, to those of you that are following.

A lot has been going on for me, lately. I find myself facing several paths in life, and I'm not quite sure where to go. I pray and pray, and yet the answer has still not been made clear to me. I'm not quite sure what it is that I'm supposed to be doing right now, at this very moment.

I suppose that's a lot of people, though.

The choices I find myself with are all pretty big risks. Two of them involve packing up and shipping off to places unknown, where I will have very little support beyond faith in friends. History has shown me that this isn't always the wisest of decisions, and yet... I can't help but shake the feeling that perhaps I should at least try.

Then again, I can stay here in Maryland and make a solid attempt at putting this apparent writing ability of mine to use. The work that I've been doing on my novel has been, admittedly, non-existent of late. I can't seem to find the motivation to write in this blog, much less working on something that could make my worries disappear.

My feelings, as always, shall remain my own. I'm not quite sure how to express myself beyond what I have already said.

This brings me to the point of this particular rambling.

This has been a good fall, so far. The weather is that perfect, crisp autumn weather that we can typically only read about in books. It is that perfect time of the year where the days are cool, yet comfortable, and the nights have the kind of chill that makes one want to sit on the couch, curled up with either a good book or a loved one, huddling together for warmth. It is a time for relaxation, a time for love, and, above all, a time for reflection within.

As much as I would love to go into some deep, somewhat philosophical, entirely full-of-crap posting, I'm afraid that I just can't muster that. I just tried, and it all came out as absolute twaddle. Hell, as I'm writing this, it's 4:30 in the morning. This doesn't leave much room for deep thought. While the previous paragraph - and even the posting title - lead one to think that perhaps what I have to say this morning is worthwhile, I assure you all that it is not. My brain is simply too full of garbage to allow sleep, and so I sit here and babble it all out into a digital journal that some read, but goes rather largely ignored.

This must be what the writers of the New Yorker feel like.

Rambling With Insomnia

2010-05-18T08:45:00.002-05:00

So, as of the start of this writing, it's currently 9:47am, and I am operating on less than five hours worth of sleep. I really don't have much to talk about right now, hence the lack of blog posts since the last one. However, I really need something to do to keep my mind occupied and trick it into slowing down enough to go back to sleep.

I've been talking with a girl lately. I'm starting to really, really like her. I'm not quite sure how or why this is, considering that I'm not exactly in a position emotionally to be doing something like this.

I dreamed last night that I had smoked crystal meth. This is strange, because it's not as if this meth is a drug that I indulge in. Sure, there have been past excursions into the realm of the tweaker, but it's just not my thing. Makes me too focused, and in my opinion, that entirely defeats the purpose of doing drugs.

The night before, I dreamed of getting into a really bad car accident, only to find out that a good friend had done just that the other day. Odd? I think so.

IRC has been getting to be more trouble than what it's worth lately. I'm sure that another hiatus from it is in order soon. On that note, I'm also becoming rather bored with World of Warcraft. I'm hoping that Cataclysm is going to be coming out soon, because I simply need more content to keep myself occupied.

I am not attracted to black girls, for the most part, but my friend Amira is quite possibly one of the most beautiful women that I have ever met.

What the hell is a Juke Joint Jezebel? And why is it worth writing a song about?

I have $400 sitting in a bank account that I didn't know about. Hell, I thought that the bank account itself was closed.

I am hoping that work today isn't too harsh.... I have plans for tonight, though, so that's good, too.

I'm gonna stop letting my brain leak on here, now, as this is just getting ridiculous.

Nonsense.

Defunct.

Ebb and Flow

2010-04-22T10:47:00.005-05:00

As of this writing, I am spending about a week or so in Pennsylvania, in an attempt to get away from the rat race that is Rockville, Maryland. It is calming at the spot that I'm at, and I've been letting my mind wander around in contemplation of... well... anything and everything. As I was staring at the creek that is at the bottom of the hill that this house rests upon, I came to a sudden realization.

People who say that life just isn't fair are nothing more than egotists.

I'm guilty of letting these words slip past my lips, just as I can say with confidence that most anybody who happens to be reading this little blurb is, as well. It's something that we grow up listening to, having it shoved in our faces and down our throats on a disturbingly regular basis. I feel now that this should probably stop.

The times that we say that life isn't fair are the times that we find ourselves at a crossroads, of sorts. These are the times where we lose a job, a friend, a pet, a loved one... whatever. These are the times in life that we probably aren't at all at our best, and we're doing what we can to get by, and even though we're making it, we're still upset by the circumstances.

Understandable, sure, but why say that life isn't fair? Just because things aren't going the exact way that you envisioned them to go, does that mean that life isn't fair? Not at all, really. I think that life is very fair. It treats all of us in the exact same fashion that it treats everybody else. It makes no exceptions for anybody when it wants to throw us some form of curveball or another. Life doesn't ease up on us just because we look at things positively, or because we're good people. Just because someone is an alcoholic, that doesn't mean that life is going out of its way to get that person.

I came to this realization as I was staring at the flow of the water of the creek, sitting on the banks. The flow was calm, slow, and steady at one part. There's a bridge that overlooks the creek, and right beneath it is a miniature waterfall. At this point, the current goes haywire, and there are white peaks to the water as it flows. There are rocks that attempt - vainly, I might add - to slow the water, and yet it just continues on its merry way, going around the rocks, or over them entirely. After the rocks, the current is speedier than it was prior to the waterfall, but it stables out and becomes calm once more.

It was only after some reflection about what I was seeing that I had the "ah ha moment" of the day. This creek, in all of its natural splendor, is a wonderful analogy of the way that life is. When things speed up in your current of life, they can get quite hectic rather quickly. This is something that some people meet head on. Others try and fight against it, and are the ones that typically end up saying that "life just isn't fair."

Listen: I propose to you that life is, indeed, fair, and that you have two options when the current starts picking up. You can either A) meet the current - and the invariable rocks that are in your way - head on and go around them, as the creek does, or B) you can fight against it and end up getting caught in the undertow and dragged along the rocks on the creek bed, only to emerge on the other side battered and bruised.

Realize, folks, that life is fair. This is something that I'm convinced any man and woman of any kind of faith or belief can agree upon. Life isn't out to get you; it's just simply out there. It's what we choose to do with it that counts.

Take Offense to This

2010-04-16T01:30:00.002-05:00

I was going to go to sleep. I'm physically exhausted, even though I did nothing but stay in recovery today from the night before. I sat on my little inflatable mattress, waiting for sleep to take me, and it still hasn't. There's a lot on my mind, you see. While I'm still all about the positive energy from the last blog post, there was something that went down today that has me just a little bit bothered. Long story short, I was trying to prove a point to someone, and they took it entirely the wrong way and they are now mad at me for it. I really don't mind this, as it happens a good bit. What bothers me is that this person wants me to take responsibility for something that I just can't bring myself to. I can take responsibility for what I've done, but not for who I am.

Anyways, that's not what brings on tonight's babbling. No... what I want to talk about tonight is a book called "All The King's Men." It was, essentially, one of the books that helped to open my eyes. Before reading this book, Moby Dick was, to me, a whale, and nothing more. Allegories were the things that crawled out of the sewers and ate your dog. Explicit motivation was taken at face value, and by golly, I liked it that way.

Not after this book.

It's been a while since I've read it, but from what I do remember, it was a kind of political thing about a guy running for some form of office in Louisiana. However, the book isn't really about this guy; it's more about one of his aides, a guy by the name of Jack Burden. He is an observer, and happens to be the narrator of the tale.

He watches things around him happen without feeling attached to them. He is what I like to call a "disinterested third party," where the events never connect with him. If someone were to try and kill him, he would examine their motivations for wanting to take a life without ever really registering the fact that was that close to being murdered. During the course of the book, he has to perform a deed which is not admirable and doesn't learn until afterwards what the result of that action would be on him.

I identified with that character. I very rarely identify with much of anything, fictional or otherwise. This very well could be the main obstacle in my way of being capable of connecting with others. Howard Roark from Ayn Rand's "The Fountainhead" is one other such character. Charlie Kaufman from "Adaption," and Randall from the "Clerks" series is the only other one. Most of the time, I identify with the tortured souls that are the creators of these works rather than with the fictional characters that they painstakingly created.

I am, admittedly, a disinterested third party observer. I've pretty much managed to remove myself from the equation because I'm not a very interesting person. One of the things that I've noticed from various forms of conversation (God bless the digital age) that I've had is that people think that I write and say the things that I do because I am angry, or bitter. It has happened, sure, but mostly I write and say the things that I do because I find them either absolutely fascinating, or just downright hilarious.

Generally, there's no anger there; simply curiosity. When I see someone make a cryptic status update on Facebook, or write a particularly interesting blog post, or even do something like yammer on and on into their cell phone while driving a 3-ton death machine, I want to know why. What hidden motivation prompted them to do that? What was it about their day or conversation or whatever that made them react the way that they did? For what cause does someone abandon reason and debate in favor of name-calling and insults when someone counters their argument with logic? I look at these things because I find them interesting, not because I really feel particularly involved.

When it comes to dealing with my public image, I've experimented. It's been almost scientific in nature. I've tried ignoring people. I've tried reasoning with them. I've even tried - on multiple occasions - to piss them off on purpose. Not everything I have tried has been for the benefit of actually improving said public image. I want to know how this whole public image thing works. I want to poke it, prod it, make it squirm so that I can come up with theories and postulations about why people act the way that they do. That involves me personally and means little except when the experiments also start to interfere with the day to day operations of my life. When I can't find the time to write something - anything - or I watch my firewall blocking attempt after attempt of someone trying to hack my computer because they've developed a distaste for me without a mature approach to handling it - that's when I start to care.

A lot of the people who hate me take it personally. I understand it, to a degree, but I really can't say that I approve or agree with their actions. I've been watching people for a long time, and that little friend that we call "self-esteem" is a lot hardier than it lets on. Suck it up and move on. Seriously, what have I done to have people wish violence upon my person? Did I kill their dog? Did I wreck their car? Did I betray their trust? No... My arrogance, having been spawned from some sick sense of confidence and disconnection, just makes them feel bad about themselves. And you know what? I don't think that people like that very much.

I am smarter than you.

Did you feel that? That little kick in your gut? That's your self-esteem trying to protect you. No, I don't really think that - not even secretly to myself. If I did, I'd have lower expectations of those around me, and the world as a whole. Everybody expects everybody else to act with this thing called "Common Sense," so I'm not the only one that has high expectations for your behavior. However, when you're unwilling to live up to those expectations - either because you think you can't (more than likely not true), or because it is too much effort - then it hurts to be held to those standards.

Self-esteem is.... well, it's really amazing. I can't tell you how awesome it is. Without it, we'd be collectively really, really unstable. We'd probably all commit suicide the first time someone insulted our mother. It's a self-defense mechanism, and it saves your ass a lot more than it gets in the way. Don't be fooled, though; it can get in the way. It can create a sort of mental deadlock where you want to go in one direction, and your body doesn't want to. then your brain - another amazing thing - will fabricate some sort of fantasy roadblock that you accept. That roadblock, when it comes to the act of creation, is the biggest hurdle that you will ever climb. It's not even close to surpassing your own self-doubt.

Here's the part that you probably don't know: Self-esteem comes from different places on different people. That's right. We are not all created equal. For some people, their self-esteem is tied directly to having fun and doing interesting things. They do things such as write because it is an enjoyable hobby, perhaps one that they can share with their friends. They do it when they have the free time and it doesn't interfere with school or family or friends and so on. If they can write something that is good and it makes people happy, then great. If not? Oh, well.

That's not me. It wouldn't matter to me if this blog, or even the book that I'm writing, was the greatest one in the whole entire world if it wasn't made by conscious decision. Happy accidents are for study, not praise. It also doesn't matter what the final product looks like. It is the process of the creation that I care about. My self-esteem comes from the cause and relationship, and knowing how to use both for intelligent design. I am a teacher and a student, not a friend, and that is the type of relationship that I seek with other creators.

I sometimes forget that not everybody approaches the act of creation the same way. Ultimately, it's a good thing. The problem is when you start creating communities around the act of creating something. People like me are significantly out-numbered. I've already had several people tell me to "just chill" when it comes to this blog, because, to them, I'm just making entries into what really only amounts to a digital journal to people that don't really care. To me, it doesn't matter if it's this, a novel, balloon animals, or even ballistic missiles - I do it because the act of creation is a challenge that I seek and appreciate.

So, yeah. I'm guilty of starting stuff, sometimes, but I'll not take all the blame myself. I've just as often been some Pygmalian project of the writing community. How I should act. How I should think. How I should create. Why can't I be more like so and so? Why can't I find the joy in a community of like-minded souls?

Honestly, the answer is quite simple. It's because I'm not like them, and it is really a physical impossibility for me to ever be like them. I know a lot of people out there hate me with a passion, but still enjoy the things that I write and post for the world to see here in the Blue Nowhere. But those very same things that you despise about me are the same qualities that I use to not only create things, but do the things that I do routinely. You despise my being a stubborn buffoon, but I've fought tooth and nail to get my ideas and discussions recognized without being completely ostracized from polite society. You despise my seriousness, but it's what allows me to sit back and think critically about whatever situation that I find myself facing, and it's also what allows me to come up with whatever idea that puts the hair up my butt to sit down and start writing the things that you all say are really good.

I don't think that these facts have been lost or unappreciated by those who are blissfully unaware of what it's like to be this way. You despise my arrogance, but I really wouldn't have bothered if I didn't think I could do it better than most have, or at least bring some fresh, new discussions to the table. With that little arrogant thought driving me, I've made a pretty good go at it, and you know what? I'm not done yet. I'm actually so arrogant as to think that my writings and ramblings and raving and misbehavings and so on could be even more amazing than what they are now, and all that it requires is probably a little more thought and attention put into them. How arrogant is man that he thinks he creates as a god?

This is why I link my blog to as many people as I can. It's good, I think. It's good because I've taken those qualities which prevent me from connecting with other human beings and used them to create something amazing. I am human, just like you. I don't like lima beans or corn. I get the occasional pimple on my butt. I like looking at naked girls. I have chronic insomnia and a high risk of esophagus cancer due to my smoking habit and the fact that I have excessive reflux. Sometimes my bowel movements are irregular.

But, I write things like this blog, and their bowel movements are perfect. :)

Back to the Jack Burden thing. Back when I first read it, I probably should have listened to the point of the novel. By the end, he sort of wakes up and accepts his place in the puzzles of life - at the time, I wasn't ready for that, yet. I didn't understand everything then, and I honestly still don't. I want to keep watching. I want to keep reading between the lines while I still have the distance. Many think of this as a flaw, and I'm coming to understand why. I'm tired of living life like this, and I'm moving on. There's still some time left to enjoy the distance, and I intend to. But you know what? I really don't think I'm going to miss it as much as what I originally thought when it's finally gone.

Moving Forward

2010-04-14T03:16:00.003-05:00

There are moments that come and go in life where one realizes just exactly how things are going inside of themselves. These moments can be either good or bad for our psyches. I call them "ah-ha moments." I have recently had the opportunity to have such a moment, myself.

For the longest time, I have been an angry individual. My anger stems from several events that have happened in my life throughout the almost twenty-five years that I've been exposed to the world around me. Rather than "biting the bullet," so to speak, and moving on from these things that have angered me to the point of being a bitter person, I instead chose to become a product of my past. On retrospect, I feel that this probably wasn't the wisest of decisions.

It wasn't until I recently hurt someone very close to me - quite possibly without hope of repair - that I decided to take some time off from everyone and everything to really take a look at why this happened again, and, more importantly, why it continues to happen on a disturbingly regular basis.

Having had said time off, I came to the realization that I honestly have absolutely nobody to blame for this but myself. Too often have I let myself become a victim - and at times even made myself to be one when I really wasn't. In an attempt to rationalize the things that have happened, I have become something that I loathe. It is time, I believe, to change all of that.

When people ask me how I'm doing, I often times reply with "depressingly typical." I am only half-kidding when I say this. I am tired of living this way. I am tired of being depressed, drained, and angry all the time. I am tired of always waiting for the next bad thing to happen. I am tired of pushing people away.

I understand that I'm not exactly the most social of creatures, and as a result, I am constantly penalized in polite society for not exactly understanding - or even caring about, really - proper social etiquette. This has interesting results some times, but in the long run, I believe that it has hurt me more than helped me. I am always waiting on people to let me down, because that is what I have come to expect.

This is all going to change.

This is all changing because, in all honesty, I am tired of living this way. I am sick to death of waking up every day, not appreciative of what I have. After having spent some time with a really good friend and her husband over the weekend, I have come to realize that I really do have a lot to be grateful for. I have been through a lot in life, sure, but I really should be a lot more grateful to the fact that I'm still here. I'm still alive and kicking, and that's a start.

I used to think that I'm only alive out of pure spite for those around me, but I see now that I'm wrong. I'm strong because I'm resilient, but I honestly have no idea how much longer that is going to last. I need to make some changes, or else it is going to quite literally kill me.

I am done living my life alone. The only reason I'm doing so is because I allow it. I have a job. I have a car. I have good friends that are always there for me, even when I don't deserve it. I have things in life to look forward to, and you know what? That's something. It's more than what I've ever had, and I need to stop taking it all for granted.

I've carried these things with me for far too long. There's a difference between a healthy dose of cynicism, and just being outright angry and hurt and so on all the time. I'm done with it. As much as I understand that we all have our crosses to bear, I really don't think it reasonable to be breaking one's back by carrying around the statues of our past, as well.

All of these thoughts come after much self-reflection, prayer, and communing with God. I see now where I'm wrong. I just honestly wish that I didn't have the pay the price that I did for it.

What's This Really About, Anyway?

2010-04-05T15:54:00.002-05:00

I'm supposed to be preparing myself for a rather interesting debate between myself and an accepted intellectual equal about the differences between faith and science. I can almost see the grimaces on the faces of those who are currently reading this, and I whole-heartedly understand why they are there. With any luck, this little debate will not branch down the normal path - when I'm involved, things rarely happen like they should. Many can attest to that.

Egotism aside, I am, obviously, debating the case for the side of faith, and why I believe that it's a valid worldview - for want of a better term - than that of... say... believing we evolved from monkeys.

Now, I could easily follow the path of the ignoramus, and make simple-minded arguments like "I don't come from no monkey because they ain't turnin' into humans over at the zoo!" or even "I know it's true because I have faith in the fact that it's true." or even the most ridiculous statement at all to make when finding yourself arguing the case of faith: "I know it's true because it's in the Bible, and the Bible is infallible."

Some of you reading this might think that these are solid answers, and ones that should be taken seriously. I assure you, this isn't the case. That's like explaining the taste of barbecue sauce to... say... a frog. Alternately, the other side of the case needs to see it as such, too, because otherwise, it isn't so much of a debate as it is a breakdown of communication reminiscent of days spent on the playground as a child - days that are, sadly, long gone.

"Bang! I got you!"
"Bang! No, I got you!"
"Nuh-uh! You missed!"
"I can't miss! I have eagle eyes!"
"Well, I'm invisible!"
"But I also have infrared!"

...

As you can see, this "conversation" is going nowhere, really fast. Seeing as how neither side is willing to give, nobody gets anywhere, and it becomes nothing more than a frustrating cycle of mental circle-jerking onto a cookie, where the one who gets the last word can make the other eat it.

All metaphorically speaking, mind.

I digress. The point that I will attempt to make in tonight's little debate is that having faith in a God that I know is there and loves me and guides me as much as I will let him is no different than having faith in a theory that states that human beings came to be from monkeys, or holding any other belief, for that matter.

You see, when someone comes to me and says something along the lines of "My belief is better than yours!" I tend to raise an eyebrow. I always have, honestly. It might just be the philosopher in me, or even my incessant need to play the devil's advocate, but either way it's looked at, I always ask them "Why?" If they cannot - or will not - give me reasons why it's better, then I cannot - and will not - take them seriously about anything. Ever.

All too often in this debate, we see two people talking down to each other, rather than using proper communication to properly discuss why it is that they believe what they do. Rather than speaking to each other as equals, they both go in half-cocked with their thumb on the pulse and their finger on the trigger, and nothing more than raised blood pressures gets accomplished.

My argument is that it is no more foolish for me to believe in a God that I don't physically see than it is for them to believe in evolution. The typical argument is that science has all the answers, and proves time and again that the belief in God is foolish. The other side - the one that I'm now arguing for - says that God has all the answers and they are in the Bible, and that what is written in the Bible is all that there ever is to know about life. I propose that both sides in this case aren't wrong, but they aren't right, either.

I am saying that the faith in a scientific theory is no different than the faith in an all-knowing, unconditionally caring creator. I say this because even though I know that there is a God and that He does exist and care about me and love me, I simply cannot explain it to someone who does not believe in that. There is no way for me to argue that faith in God is better than faith in science, because they don't want to hear it. Hence, my reasoning for playing the fence in this debate and making an attempt to offer a different point of view.

Honestly, if one reads the Bible - more specifically, the things that Christ Himself said - you will find nothing that goes against what modern science has taught us. Modern science has also taught us that certain things that the Bible says to do and not to do were really very good things to know back in the days when sewage systems weren't even a glimmer in the eye of whoever it was that invented them originally.

What you will find in His words, however, are multitudes of parables and messages that all say the same thing: love your brother as you would love yourself, and put God before all others. It's with this in mind that I approach this subject, and only with much consideration and trepidation am I finally sitting down with this friend of mine to present what it is that I have learned.

He believes in evolution, because he's never experienced God. I believe in God and have an unshakable faith in Him, because of the things that I have seen and experienced. I cannot hope to have him see things my way, because that cannot happen. I can see things his way, sure, but only because I've been in his shoes before. I'm familiar with that belief system, and I'm familiar with how to approach people coming from that point of view. Not saying I have the upper edge, here. Far from it. What I do have, however, is faith in the knowledge that I have at least tried to bring to him another point of view. Planting seeds, and all that.

I'll post the conversation after it happens. :)

Progression, or Oppression?

2010-03-23T08:14:00.005-05:00

So.... the health bill has passed. If you have no idea what this means or why it's relevant, perhaps maybe you'd benefit by clicking here.

The Republicans are stamping their little feet about the whole thing, and are just as outspoken about Democrats as they ever were. The Democrats, on the other hand, are patting themselves on the back and ignoring what the Republicans have to say, just as they always have. The pie has been sliced. Our health care system is going to be reformed.

Some people rejoice at this, as they feel that it's a big step forward in American history, and that those who would call themselves "progressionists" should be celebrating, shouting their feelings of elation and success far into the wee hours of the morning. I, however, believe very differently about this. You know that something as awesome as a reformed health care system in this country isn't quite what it seems when even Noam Chomsky is saying that it shouldn't be celebrated quite just yet.

For those that would like a greater perspective, you can get Mr. Chomsky's point of view here.

Personally, I'm not quite sure what to make of this new bill. I honestly have no clue whether or not I should be excited, or worried. From the wording of it all, it seems as if I am going to be forced to have medical care that I cannot afford, and the whole thing seems to be designed to do nothing more than funnel money into the pockets of private insurance agencies and pharmaceutical corporations. I really cannot abide by this. The one thing that made this whole thing worth it for the American populace to begin with was the fact that this was supposed to be free. Alas, that is no longer the case.

As it currently stands, I realize now as I write this little blurb that I simply don't have enough information on the whole thing to really be able to talk about it on any real intellectual level. I suppose that I am going to have to play the waiting game and sit on my hands until such a time as this thing has a real chance to flesh itself out and show us all if it's going to rape us or not, and if it does, will it at least have the common courtesy to give us a reach-around? Only time will tell.

Ladies and gentlemen of America, the countdown has begun.

Paradigm Shift

2009-11-13T03:46:00.002-05:00

This post is meant for Christians. I encourage the non-believers to read it, of course, because I want you all to know that there is someone out there who sees things your way, and wants the way the Church treats you to change.

I was speaking at some length with a very good friend of mine - indeed, he is very much like a brother to me - about spiritual walks and the like. Come to find out, he and I are in very similar places spiritually... we're both aware that we aren't 100% right, and we're both working on getting to where we need to be next.

What was interesting, though, is when we got to the subject of the church that we both used to attend. You see, there's this thing that's apparently going on there that I'm not too comfortable with, and I see it happening everywhere I go. While there's definitely been some growth (they now have a respectable building... when I attended, it was nothing more than a converted horse barn), there's a problem of acceptance.

You see, there's this huge problem with churches, anymore. They're just not comfortable. I know what you're thinking by now: "Dude has lost his mind. Churches aren't supposed to be comfortable." See, that's where you're wrong...

As a rule of thumb, Christians aren't perfect. We're just forgiven. I know that sounds arrogant, and I apologize if you took it that way. But it's something that needs to be said, not for those that don't share our faith, but for us. We need a big reality check most of the time, mostly due in part to an absurd catch-22 situation that pretty much ostracizes us from the rest of the rational.

There's this core belief in Christians that pretty much goes unquestioned, and it pretty much states that the only people you should be surrounding yourself with are other Christians.

Well.... that's alright. I guess. The only problem with that is that you're effectively screwing yourself out of what you all claim is your main purpose: to win souls in the name of God so that none shall know the suffering of the sinful. This is what you are here to do, correct? To do the will of God?

Why, then, do you neglect your brothers and sisters so?

The biggest problem facing the Church right now, ladies and gentlemen, is the fact that they are simply turning a blind eye to those that aren't believers, or those who may not share the exact same way of worship as they. I might be nuts, but... doesn't this seem just a tad counter-productive, especially considering the fact that James 5:19-20 tells us the following: "Brethren, if any of you do err from the truth, and one convert him; Let him know, that he which converteth the sinner from the error of his way shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a multitude of sins."

You are not going to get anywhere unless some things start to change. For example: Stop chastising the younger generation from associating with their age peers just because their age peers aren't believers. You are judging these people before even getting to know them or where they're coming from in their walk of life.

There is this saying that I learned while attending those "Anonymous" classes, and it goes something like this: If you constantly do the same thing the exact same way over and over again, and expect a different result each time, that's a sign of insanity.

Hmmm....

One thing that you find way too often is people using their position of a Christian to judge others and consider themselves blameless in front of those people, and sadly, that just isn't the case. It seems as if we need a reality check, Church, because these current tactics of advertising your events throughout the community and hoping that people who aren't currently members come in and see what the hubbub is about is simply not working. Saying "churchy" things to newcomers like "God has a plan for your life!" over and over again isn't working. None of these tactics are working, because they are old, and, as the wonderful Bob Dylan once said... Times, they are a changin'.

The biggest thing that is getting in our way is this false sense of the right to judge others that is being inadvertandtly instilled within us. There are many, many verses in the Bible that advise us against this course of action. For example, 1 Samuel 2:3 says "Stop acting so proud and haughty! Don't speak with such arrogance! The LORD is a God who knows your deeds; and he will judge you for what you have done." Take some time and let that sink in before I go into why that is one of the many that I have selected to warn against such skulduggery.

If you're reading this, then I'm going to presume that you let it sink in. The reason I quote this particular verse is the fact that we are, indeed, speaking down on the non-believers with arrogance. Granted, it's not intentional by any means, but it's there, and they see it. They aren't blind to it, even if you are. We seem to forget that we, ourselves, are not perfect by any stretch.

It is my belief that Satan is poisoning the Church from within. It's really the only effective way to make something like that fall apart, to be perfectly honest. I have seen it happen in person with the church that I was attending in Pennsylvania, before the supposed "elders" had their field day with the pastor. I won't get into it unless prompted, but suffice it to say, it was a perfect example of the cancer that is growing within the Church, and spreading rapidly.

It is something that is plaguing many churches across the world... and the worst part is, people don't even realize it. You wonder why your church isn't growing? The answer can be found in Luke 18:11 "The proud Pharisee stood by himself and prayed this prayer: 'I thank you, God, that I am not a sinner like everyone else, especially like that tax collector over there! For I never cheat, I don't sin, I don't commit adultery." There are too many supposed "Christians" that have this mentality, and it isn't right. Instead, I point you all to the same tax collector, who says his own prayer in Luke 18:13 - "But the tax collector stood at a distance and dared not even lift his eyes to heaven as he prayed. Instead, he beat his chest in sorrow, saying, 'O God, be merciful to me, for I am a sinner."

Here's what I'm getting at: Isaiah 11:3 says "He will delight in obeying the LORD. He will never judge by appearance, false evidence, or hearsay." As Christians, it is our job to keep that in mind at all times. We simply cannot expect people to come to us, because of the sheer simple fact that it just doesn't really happen anymore. Yeah, sure, it happens every so often, but... it's not often enough that we can rely on it. We have become complacent in our battle against Satan, and even allowed him to infiltrate our ranks and start tearing us apart from within.

What I am calling for is a paradigm shift in the way that things are done. There is no reason that we cannot go to those that are suffering. There is absolutely no problem whatsoever with going to those that are without God on their turf. As a matter of fact, I find that it's far more effective than inviting them into a church where they shall be viewed as a "tax collector."

Listen: The Bible tells us that we need to go in and release our brethren from the clutches of whatever spiritual prison is holding them captive. It is our responsibility to make sure that others don't at least have a chance to hear about God's word and His desires for them. This is evidenced in Acts 5. I was originally only going to bring up a few key verses, but I'm feeling a bit of a preach coming on, as my old pastor used to say.

Taking apart the entire book bit by bit, we're gonna get to some great nuggets that's gonna tie this whole thing together. I know I've gottena bit rabbit-holed with this, but bear with me...

Acts 5:1-4 begins to tell us a tale of a man and his wife who sold their property and kept some of the money out of the profits for themselves, while lying to the disciples about the amount. I find this interesting because this is a blatant example of what is going on in the Church right now. There are people out there who are telling themselves - and each other - that they are all about saving souls in the name of God and doing His bidding, but, in reality.... they are lying about it. Whether or not they are aware of their deceit remains to be said, but in all honesty... what does it matter?

In Acts 5:3-4, Peter calls this man out on his lie. Good thing to do. It's what anybody should be doing when they detect BS, Christian or not. At the end of it all, Peter points out that dude wasn't just lying the apostles.... he was lying to God Himself. Again, I ask that any believe out there start doing some serious self-reflecting... we are all guilty of this. Every. Single. One of us.

Now, where things start getting extremely relevant to what I'm talking about here today is right in verse 7, and continues to verse 10, when the man's wife comes to see the apostles several hours later. She agrees with the deceit, and suffers the same fate as her husband, who was struck dead for what he had done.

See, this is intriguing because of the fact that not only was the original sinner punished for his ways, but also his wife, who had followed his errant ways, and even agreed with the decision. They were both struck dead, and I have this feeling that the Church itself is about to be struck dead for much the same reasons... lying to God.

Let's continue on with this little lesson.

Now, in Acts 5:11, we find that great fear gripped the entire church when they found out what had happened. Not surprising. They just got a kick in the pants about what could happen for even following the path of arrogance.

Now, it's right around Acts 5:12-13 that we start getting to the core of the problem. 5:12 states that the apostles were out doing whatever they could to shake things up and bring more people to the side of God. The exact text as it appears in the New Living Translation - with the key words in bold text - is as follows: "Meanwhile, the apostles were performing many miraculous signs and wonders among the people. And the believers were meeting regularly at the Temple in the area known as Solomon's Colonnade."

I bolded the words "among the people" because it's extremely relevant to what I am trying to get across tonight: We cannot expect results by sitting safely inside of our church walls and expect the outsiders to come to us. God Himself saw fit to include the fact that it was only the believers who were meeting up regularly at the temple. The way it is worded leads me to believ that while they were doing that, the apostles were busy working the crowds, doing their very best to get more people to believe.

Now, it's right at Acts 5:13 that we get to the most chilling part of why I'm talking about this. "No one else dared to join them, though everyone had high regard for them."

Peter and the apostles were doing things very, very differently back in their days. The Church had its cancer back then, too. Satan will not stop with what he's attempting to do. He doesn't want us to succeed in God's will, but God has provided us with a way to move foward in a direction that is more suitable to His purposes! That way is by shaking things up a bit, and doing things differently, much like Peter and the others did all throughout Acts.

Don't worry, I'm going further into this. We're almost done. I promise. :)

While everyone was sitting uselessly inside the Temple, Acts 5:14-16 go on to encourage us to do something different, as the apostles did, and get out there and make people see what it is that we're doing. They read as follows:

"And more and more people believed and were brought to the Lord -- crowds of both men and women. As a result of the apostles' work, sick people were brought out into the streets on beds and mats so that Peter's shadow might fall across some of them as he went by. Crowds came in from the villages around Jerusalem, bringing their sick and those possessed by evil spirits, and they were all healed."

Where in there, people, does it say that the apostles sat in their chairs, nestled safely away from all harm and evil inside of the walls of the Temple? It doesn't. It left that specifically to those that are doing what you are currently doing now.

Alright. So. We've learned that the apostles did it back then. So what, right? Yeah, I get you on that. But here's the thing: God did the same thing for the apostles when they needed Him most. Acts 5:17-20 is all the further I'm going to go with this little missive, because I feel that's all that needs to be said about it... Again, key parts are bolded.

"The high priest and his friends, who were Sadducees, reacted with violent jealousy. They arrested the apostles and put them in the jail. But an angel of the Lord came at night, opened the gates of the jail, and brought them out. Then he told them "Go to the Temple and give the people this message of life!"

And there you have it. God Himself is willing to walk into our prisons and set us free... so why is it that we cannot offer the same respect towards those that we claim we are charged with saving? Instead, we judge them without giving it so much as a second thought, forgetting what Christ told us in Matthew 25:36 - "I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me."

Keeping in mind that four verses later, He explains His words with "I assure you, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!"

The problem with this is that it works both ways, folks. If you are judging those that your siblings or friends or family or whatever are hanging out with because of the sheer fact that they are not exactly on par with you spiritually or they have no belief system in place - whatever the case may be - then you are doing the same to Christ Himself. Who are you to judge God? Remember what Job 21:22 has to say about this: "But who can teach a lesson to God, the supreme Judge?"

Deuteronomy 32:36 sends us a chilling warning: "Indeed, the LORD will judge His people, and He will change his mind about His servants, when he sees their strength is gone and no one is left, slave or free." I'll let you take that one in.

Now, before any finger pointing is done, allow me to tell you all I am not judging you... Not in the slightest. I'm simply doing what Peter did in Acts, and that's call you all out on what you're doing, intentional or not. I know that many of your probably haven't even gotten this far, and that's fine and well by me. Just know that, in the words of John 8:15, you all may judge me with all your human limitations, but I am not judging anyone here. I am just as guilty with not being a good Christian as any of you. My flaws are open season, and while I am not proud of the sins that I am plagued by, I will own up to each and every last one of them. I am not asking you all to do anything that I myself have not done, or am willing to do.

I had a great closing to this all typed out and on my computer clipboard, but it appears as if the Cut function ate it instead of doing what it was supposed to do. Ah, well. I do believe that the point has been driven across.

I bring up all of this not to make you all feel ashamed... only to show you where you are erring in your ways of trying to be a soldier for God. What you're doing just isn't working, and it's because of inactivity. I leave you with just one last group of verses, and then I will close it all out. Proverbs 24:30-34 states "I walked by the field of a lazy person, the vineyard of one lacking sense. I saw that it was overgrown with thorns. It was covered with weeds, and its walls were broken down. Then, as I looked and thought about it, I learned this lesson: A little extra sleep, a little more slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest -- and poverty will pounce on you like a bandit; scarcity will attack you like an armed robber."

The Path Less Travelled

2009-10-17T10:59:00.003-05:00

The other day, I was sitting outside of my mother's house, locked out. The weather wasn't bad, which I was eternally grateful for, but from the looks of the clouds, it wouldn't stay that way for long. My mom and her boyfriend were out and about somewhere, and I had no way of getting a hold of them.

My cell phone was inside the house, along with the rest of my belongings. I didn't bring it with me, as there is no such thing as cell phone service here... only dead zones. That being said, I took a walk to pass the time, as sitting around on the front porch was getting rather boring, and quickly.

I walked down the hill to the creek that marks the end of the property. I stared at the water for a while and reflected about everything that's going on in my life, and everything that has already happened, and started looking towards the event horizon that holds the future things that will happen to me. Sometimes getting in to these contemplative moods works out rather well for me. Other times, not so much.

This time, I feel that I was very fortunate.

After becoming bored with the water, I walked a little further in to this thicket that is on the property. I sat on a rock and thought about all of the decisions that I've made in life that led me to that exact point. I can't say that I was impressed with myself.

There was something bothering me... something that I couldn't quite put my finger on. It wasn't until I started my way back to the locked and empty house that it hit me. On my way back, I was presented with a choice. That choice was to move forward through a patch of foliage that was more than likely some form of poison ivy or poison oak, or go up a muddy hill and around some rocks to avoid the possible poison. I made my choice in haste, and rather foolishly.

I walked directly through the unknown foliage.

As soon as I was done, it hit me. The thing that was bothering me about my reflections; the missing link, if you will.

You see, what I realized almost immediately is that I did what so many of us human beings are constantly doing throughout our lives: I took the path of least resistance. I'm not quite sure why I did this. The nearest I can figure is that it's in our instinct to do things like this. I took the way that was easiest, and as a result, I would possibly have itchy skin and a visit to the doctors office as a way of once again teaching me about cause and effect. If I were to have taken the path less travelled, i.e. the uphill way that would have involved some relatively hard work and yet no blemished skin and even, quite possibly, a better sense of accomplishment, I wouldn't be in this situation to begin with.

Believe me when I tell you, I started getting giddy over this prospect. It wasn't long before my mind went to other areas with this new information. I made the connection to what the Bible says about taking the path less traveled, and that's why I'm here today, writing this blog.

I know that I said that I wouldn't preach at you all, and believe me when I tell you that I'm not. I'm not in a good position to preach to people.... I'd be way too much of a hypocrite. All I'm saying is that Jesus couldn't have been too far off with his advice to stick to the path less traveled. Sure, it's harder work, but.... it's what is gonna keep you safe.

With this newfound realization, I immediately set to work, thinking about all of the times in life that I took the path that was most commonly travelled, and how they all invariably ended in tragedy for me.

There was the decisions I made when it came to drugs. I had some good times, sure, but I firmly believe that because of those decisions, I can no longer realize my full potential. The decisions that I made when it came to schooling. Sure, I graduated a year ahead of my class, but... what do I have to show for that, exactly? Nothing.

Time and again, we, as human beings, are forced to make decisions. I look back at history and I see what it was that made the great people so great: they took the paths less travelled, and the results were amazing. These are the people like Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, Ghandi, Mother Theresa, and so on. Sure, these people made their mistakes in life, but they did something that so many of us - myself included - have problems doing: they moved passed their problems, and made something so much better of themselves.

And so I offer this as a challenge to all of us: at least once per month, let's make a decision in life to take the path less travelled, and see what happens. I look forward to the results.

Killing Time

2009-10-03T18:14:00.002-05:00

The other day, I was playing World of Warcraft, and a Guildmate of mine said that he was "killing time as time was killing him." This is a concept that, I believe, anyway, escapes the confines of our conscious minds and is something that we, as humans, take for granted.

There is some terrible news that I have, and it's something that we've all already heard time and again, and yet, for whatever reason, tend not to think about. Just in case you weren't around - or weren't paying attention, for that matter - to hear it, I shall say it once again for your benefit:

You are going to die some day.

I know, I know... Shocking, right? That's just the problem. All too often, the case is that it is shocking to most people. A lot of us actively avoid thinking about the fact that we have a very limited time on this miserable little sphere that we call a planet. Instead, we make all sorts of plans for the future, securing our bank accounts, landing a job that we feel defines us as a person, etc. Hell, most of us don't even make it past our pursuit of the almighty dollar. We tend to ignore death as if it is nothing more than a fairy tale that we tell our children to frighten them into compliance with the rules.

Why, I ask, do we do this? We are all guilty of this. It's not as if we aren't reminded that our time is limited in this life on a daily basis. Not a day goes by that we don't hear of someone that we either know or admire passing away. We even hear news of the deaths of strangers. I really don't feel as if our treatment of the dead is all that respectful, either. We have really gone downhill as a society in this country when it comes to the subject of death. We have gone from revering the dead and respecting our limited amount of life to doing nothing more than allowing the passing of the living to fall through the cracks of bureaucracy.

Do you know what happens to people who die of any cause at all? After the proper authorities are notified and the body is taken off to the morgue, they are assinged a serial number. From there, the medical examiner (a glorified term for a mortician, really) has approximately 48 hours to fill out the appropriate forms for a death certificate. Yes, we need a certificate that states that we are officially dead, these days. After that, the form is mailed off to some other agency whose sole job is to mail it off to the World Health Organization. In this process, the deceased is assinged at least four more serial numbers. They lose their names, identities, and everything else that made them a person. They are no longer someone's son/daughter/husband/wife/neice/nephew etc... They are nothing more than a statistic, at that point.

This, I believe, is entirely inexcusable. We no longer fear death, and therefore categorize it as a way of rationalizing. It's a foreign concept to the lot of us. We go about our day to day lives, doing anything and everything we can to prolong them. There is at least five new diets created every day, each one claiming to be more healthy than the last, and, therefore, expanding your lifespan.

I normally wouldn't have a problem with this, but most of us are only out for ourselves. We want to be the last man standing, so to speak. Rather than using our time on this planet wisely, we splurge it all away, and for what? Honestly, I want you all to think about that for just a few minutes at the very least. What, exactly, is it that you are living for? Is it really all that worth while? Is it really something that people will talk about for generations to come?

I'm not saying that we should all strive to be great leaders and impacts on history and society. What I'm saying is that, thanks to the disregard of death, we have lost all sense of community. There are many factors that led to the loss of community and brotherhood here in America, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened with that, but I'm not going to beat a dead horse on the subject. If you honestly don't know the answer to that, then allow me to point out to you that you have at your disposal one of the greatest tools ever created to gather information, and it's literally at your fingertips right now as you read this.

Listen: I'm not here to scare you all into changing your ways. Realistically speaing, nobody is going to be able to change over night, and I accept that. What I am doing, however, is trying to redirect your thinking to another light. Consider my words here today. Stop killing time, because it's a waste. Instead, utilize your time to do something actually worth all the effort that you put into it. Make it something you can be proud of, and that others can actually respect you for. Do something for your community, or even something small and nice for your parents or significant others. Start small, and then work your way to the bigger things. It all comes in time, which, if you take what I'm saying to heart, you'll find will stop killing you if you can just utilize it properly.

Re-Awakening

2009-10-01T20:20:00.002-05:00

Greetings, and salutations to you all!

I know factually that this blog has received absolutely no traffic whatsoever since I posted in it over three years ago. Today is the day that I hope to change all of that. Like the phoenix of legend, this blog has risen once more from its own ashes.

The blog posts will not be frequent, I am sure. They will, however, be written in such a way that they will (hopefully) invoke a great amount of thought within those who read them. The goal of these blogs is to expand horizons and open minds to new ideas. I am not here to preach at any of you, nor am I here to try and stir up controversy. Those days are done.

For those of you who don't know my name already, I am Rob. I am, as of this writing, twenty-four years of age. I like to consider myself a man of devout faith in Christ, although my actions don't always show it. I am not perfect in any way, shape, or form. I am nothing more than a sack of meat and water that is wandering about this planet just as aimlessly and cluelessly as any of you who may currently be reading this.

You see, I used to be an atheist, but I got better. That said, as an atheist, I used to read the Bible to tear it apart and use its own statements against it as a weapon of blasphemy. There were, however, certain things about it that I had liked, such as the fate of Lot's wife. Maybe I should explain.

Everbody knows about the Biblical cities of Sodom and Gamorrah. They are the two cities that Bible thumpers always reference when speaking out against homosexuality and witchcraft, and they always do it without fail. Inside of two of these cities, there was but one righteous man, by the name of Lot.

After a series of events, Lot and his family were guided from the cities by an angel of the Lord. They were told not to look back, or else God would punish them the same as He was the cities. Well, Lot's wife looked back, and because of that, God struck her down and turned her into a pillar of salt.

Before becoming cured of my affliction of atheism, I always smiled at that little story. Cruel, I know, but I just couldn't help it. In my eyes, Lot's wife was a hero of the human race. You see, at the time, it never occured to me that there was a meaning between the lines of the words. Sure, I knew what symbology through writing and allegories were, but I figured that since the Christians believed every word of this story book was absolute truth, they must think that this is what actually happened. There was no symbolism, merely words about the punishments that God gave out.

Anyway, I found her to be a hero due to the fact that what she did was a very human thing to do. While it never occured to me that she was looking back on the cities in a figurative way, I took it literally and always envisioned her turning around to look at the cities being destroyed. That was the human part of her action, and I admired her for it.

I tell you all of this because I, too, am a pillar of salt. We are all pillars of salt. And so, from one pillar of salt to many, I bid you welcome to this blog and what will hopefully be a wonderful journey down many edifying paths. I look forward to writing and sharing these thoughts of mine, and I hope that you all look forward to reading them.

Again, I am not here to preach to people about God and faith and the like. I am here to exorcise my own demons - my thoughts - because they are driving me crazy being trapped inside of my head with nowhere to go and nothing else to do than drive me nuts.

You are now entering the most prized possession that I have: my mind. You are all about to get a rare glimpse inside the Cynic.