So I took another math test yesterday, this one was a 2 hour examination that took me 11 minutes. It seems any wish I might have had to transfer my talents away from mathematics have failed, oh well. Afterwards however I found myself in a much better mood than last time. As a result I did not feel the need to create another post of pure emotional explosion, or Emoplosion as I'm calling it. I'm all for free writing, but seriously, that post was crap.
Anyway, I got to thinking yesterday and this morning about the idea of maturity. and decided to elucidate my thoughts in this online format. It seems to me that maturity is something that a lot of people talk about without taking the time to think about what they really mean by it. I rarely talk about how mature people are, because when it comes down to it I've never known. I know that people can take either mature or immature actions, but generally even that distinction is filled with gray area. For instance, I often make a lot of immature jokes, but I excuse this as being for sake of parody, and in so doing I validate my actions as mature. Responding to criticism or insult by simply saying 'your mom' followed by whatever insult preceded the response isn't mature, hell, it's not even funny, but in a way that's the point, or so I tell myself.
Looking to nature it seems that many animals go through some sort of irreversible physical change and this signifies their maturity. Deer for instance lose their spots, male lions grow manes etc. The difficulty with people though is that while we do undergo physical change it most definitely does not signify any kind of maturity, especially the kind of social maturity that people talk about so often. This point could be argued of course, but I challenge you to find maturity in a boy sticking his dick in cricket food, people mindlessly hooking up with strangers at parties, even better groups of people drinking excessively as justification for the aforementioned hookups. Find maturity in male binge drinking, find maturity in cracking voices, find maturity in keg stands. Find maturity in self-consciousness over your weight when at a lithe 125, 120, 115??? pounds, find maturity in emo-kids and thug rap fans. I'm sure it's there somewhere, but realistically puberty may bring us a host of things but I don't think maturity is one of them.
But hear again, is another problem, the idea of maturity to us is a purely social construction, and as such it seems like it needs a new definition. Since maturity is now so linked to social activity it seems that the new definition must inherently be defined in some way that demonstrates this link. This is why the idea of physical change that is found to often in nature does not apply. However we can still take a degree of inspiration from this. I've been thinking about this new definition for a long time.....at least 5 minutes now....and I think that as in nature it must be something irreversible, however instead of being a physical change, for us it is a mental change.
I have spoken before of our ability to shift and become who we like, our personalities can change at an alarming rate. I have also spoken of how we resist adherence to a personality for too long, I have admitted that I find myself to be an actor and a liar in that I change who I am frequently and am afraid of closing doors now open to me even if it means being able to open a single one that I've never been able to before. In short I have discussed the reluctance to define ourselves in a persistent sense. I think that maturity has a lot to do with this, while immature we do bounce between personalities, we are confused as to who we are and as a result of attempting to define ourselves as many things we end up defining ourselves as nothing.
I think that maturity comes when something happens to you, a wonderful or horrible event, a big decision, something major, something social, that causes you to realize that there is no longer value in being defined as nothing, that there are some personalities which are truly not you, and in defining what is not you, in closing those doors you begin to define that which is you. The process might be slow, closing one door at a time, or it might be immediate, choosing the one or two paths to take, but nevertheless that's it to me. That's maturity, it's letting go of the shallow idea of being everything at once and finding the meaning to delving deeper.
We each swim on the surface of an ocean so that we can see the horizons, in diving beneath we can never hope to see so far, but someday don't you want to see what's beneath the surface? In this definition though I would like to take away the negative connotation of immaturity. I believe that I am an immature person at present, I think I've decided to close some doors, but there are still many I keep ajar, I might peek my head beneath the surface, but never so far that I can't reach the surface once more.
Anyway, I don't see one as positive and the other as negative, everyone has their own way of dealing with life, so next time you go to call someone immature, think about what you're saying and if you're trying to insult them, then reconsider and think about whether or not it's actually for the best for them. If someone should call you mature, or immature, don't resist and be contrary about it, perhaps it's just how they see you. If people are calling you immature and you resent that, think about it, are you immature? If you see it as a problem, if you get defensive, then maybe you should think about why it offends you. Learn to accept yourself for who you are.
Anyway, I might add to this later if I think of more to say, hope everyone has a good day.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Achilles
It's time that I discuss one of my weaknesses. I've talked about a lot of things on this blog so far, but here is something that is relatively unknown to most of my friends, it's one of my crippling weaknesses; Dinosaur Hunting.
I have never been able to really explain why I enjoy hunting prehistoric creatures so much, all I really know is that when a cold-blooded and supposedly extinct threat looms I become pretty gung-ho about the whole ordeal. I remember when I was really young I absolutely loved building dinosaur models, however as I grew I found it was my destiny to destroy those dinosaur models and anything that resembled them. I went to see Jurassic Park while it was in theaters, I think I must have been ten or so at the time. I was pretty pissed off at many of the characters though because I didn't think they managed to slay near high enough a quantity of dinosaurs. My obsession grew with age and I distinctly remember back when the Turok games were popular I was not seen for an entire summer. That's the thing with games that have respawning enemies, your work is never done.
I love killing dinosaurs.
A couple of years ago there was some stuff on the news about how there might be prehistoric creatures lurking beneath the sea. I dropped out of high school and learned to scuba dive the day after I saw the first news cast. I had purchased several guns for the excursion and was most disappointed when I found out that most of them would be largely ineffective underwater. I instead purchased a harpoon gun for my undersea bounty hunt, and it was at that store that I first met Kenneth. Kenneth did not share my passion for the wholesale genocide of raging lizard creatures, but he did enjoy diving and the murder of sea creatures in general. We had our differences, since I detest the murder of sea creatures, all creatures in general really¹. But regardless of this we became fast friends and allies on the quest.
Finally the day arrived when we would go after the beast, we dove as far as we physically could, but it was obviously not deep enough, there was no way the creature would come to a shallow enough depth, unless of course there was sufficient bait. We had some chum and such with us, but all this did was attract sharks, most of which we were forced to kill. Even with the fresh shark corpses in the water though the beast would not be stirred, with alarm I realized that we would soon run out of air and be forced to return to the surface. My natural dinosaur hunting instincts kicked in and I realized what I had to do, I shot Kenneth in the chest with my harpoon gun. I then grabbed his air tank and let his body sit in the organ-laden soup of water that had been created by our carnage.
Finally the beast came from the depths, it swallowed Kenneth's body whole, for that I was thankful since it definitely cleared up a lot of problems I would likely have had with the authorities later had his body reached the surface. After devouring my friend it turned it's attention to me, I shot, reloaded and shot again until I was out of harpoons. Still the beast came. The harpoons protruded from its body as mere splinters. It became rapidly obvious that I would not be able to defeat the beast, but by this point I was in a frenzy, so I attacked.
I rushed at the beast with an adrenaline driven ferocity the like of which I would not know again for another 2 years. My intent was to use my minor martial arts experience to somehow subdue it. To be honest I don't think this was my intent at all, I don't think I was even possessed of intentions at this stage. Regardless I rushed, it rushed and the distance between us was closed. It open it's great maw and swallowed me whole.
As the dinosaur's mouth closed I knew I was finished, I would be crushed. An odd thing happened though, instead of being crushed the beast simply swallowed me whole. I won't get into the details but 2 days later I passed alive and well out the creature's ass and back into the sea. Before you ask how I breathed, I survived largely on the air tanks left behind by all the divers it had eaten before me.
Anyway, I returned to the surface and made my way home. I explained the situation to my uncle and he told me what my problem was. On land or at sea projectile weapons will only get you so far, and that is largely limited by the ammunition you carry. That day my uncle entrusted me with a prize possession of his, a Kabar Combat Knife, normally issued to marines, now issued to a fool of a boy with a dinosaur hunting obsession.
Since that day I've trained long and hard with that knife and it's the only weapon I ever use. My obsession remains and when I see animatronic lizards on the television my roommates often have to restrain me, but one day, when the dinosaur menace looms once more, I will be ready.
This post is dedicated to the memory of Kenneth Barclay IV. May he rest peacefully.
_____________________________________________________
¹It's probably important to point out that I do not consider Dinosaurs to be living creatures but rather assume that they are abominations of nature and perversions of the natural order.
I have never been able to really explain why I enjoy hunting prehistoric creatures so much, all I really know is that when a cold-blooded and supposedly extinct threat looms I become pretty gung-ho about the whole ordeal. I remember when I was really young I absolutely loved building dinosaur models, however as I grew I found it was my destiny to destroy those dinosaur models and anything that resembled them. I went to see Jurassic Park while it was in theaters, I think I must have been ten or so at the time. I was pretty pissed off at many of the characters though because I didn't think they managed to slay near high enough a quantity of dinosaurs. My obsession grew with age and I distinctly remember back when the Turok games were popular I was not seen for an entire summer. That's the thing with games that have respawning enemies, your work is never done.
I love killing dinosaurs.
A couple of years ago there was some stuff on the news about how there might be prehistoric creatures lurking beneath the sea. I dropped out of high school and learned to scuba dive the day after I saw the first news cast. I had purchased several guns for the excursion and was most disappointed when I found out that most of them would be largely ineffective underwater. I instead purchased a harpoon gun for my undersea bounty hunt, and it was at that store that I first met Kenneth. Kenneth did not share my passion for the wholesale genocide of raging lizard creatures, but he did enjoy diving and the murder of sea creatures in general. We had our differences, since I detest the murder of sea creatures, all creatures in general really¹. But regardless of this we became fast friends and allies on the quest.
Finally the day arrived when we would go after the beast, we dove as far as we physically could, but it was obviously not deep enough, there was no way the creature would come to a shallow enough depth, unless of course there was sufficient bait. We had some chum and such with us, but all this did was attract sharks, most of which we were forced to kill. Even with the fresh shark corpses in the water though the beast would not be stirred, with alarm I realized that we would soon run out of air and be forced to return to the surface. My natural dinosaur hunting instincts kicked in and I realized what I had to do, I shot Kenneth in the chest with my harpoon gun. I then grabbed his air tank and let his body sit in the organ-laden soup of water that had been created by our carnage.
Finally the beast came from the depths, it swallowed Kenneth's body whole, for that I was thankful since it definitely cleared up a lot of problems I would likely have had with the authorities later had his body reached the surface. After devouring my friend it turned it's attention to me, I shot, reloaded and shot again until I was out of harpoons. Still the beast came. The harpoons protruded from its body as mere splinters. It became rapidly obvious that I would not be able to defeat the beast, but by this point I was in a frenzy, so I attacked.
I rushed at the beast with an adrenaline driven ferocity the like of which I would not know again for another 2 years. My intent was to use my minor martial arts experience to somehow subdue it. To be honest I don't think this was my intent at all, I don't think I was even possessed of intentions at this stage. Regardless I rushed, it rushed and the distance between us was closed. It open it's great maw and swallowed me whole.
As the dinosaur's mouth closed I knew I was finished, I would be crushed. An odd thing happened though, instead of being crushed the beast simply swallowed me whole. I won't get into the details but 2 days later I passed alive and well out the creature's ass and back into the sea. Before you ask how I breathed, I survived largely on the air tanks left behind by all the divers it had eaten before me.
Anyway, I returned to the surface and made my way home. I explained the situation to my uncle and he told me what my problem was. On land or at sea projectile weapons will only get you so far, and that is largely limited by the ammunition you carry. That day my uncle entrusted me with a prize possession of his, a Kabar Combat Knife, normally issued to marines, now issued to a fool of a boy with a dinosaur hunting obsession.
Since that day I've trained long and hard with that knife and it's the only weapon I ever use. My obsession remains and when I see animatronic lizards on the television my roommates often have to restrain me, but one day, when the dinosaur menace looms once more, I will be ready.
This post is dedicated to the memory of Kenneth Barclay IV. May he rest peacefully.
_____________________________________________________
¹It's probably important to point out that I do not consider Dinosaurs to be living creatures but rather assume that they are abominations of nature and perversions of the natural order.
Monday, February 26, 2007
I am Real
I remember the impact that reading "The Things They Carried" had on me the first time I read it. Tonight I am rereading a single paragraph in the chapter entitled "On the Rainy River." The paragraph deals with the idea of courage and a youthful notion that we are each posessed of a finite amount of courage. Essentially O'Brien discusses the idea of going through life and justifying cowardice in your daily life under the guise that we are each saving our courage for something really important.
I also have a book which was given to me by a man named Matt Silver who I respect greatly. The book is a simple hardback which contains a single question or statement to think about on each page. One of the pages is a black, or perhaps dark blue, I can't really tell with the awful lighting in my room. Regardless the question on the page reads: "Will you ever really know how brave you truly are?"
What I want to talk about isn't so much courage or bravery directly, but rather a sense of knowing how anything you truly are. I know that I myself have always had an internal idea of who I am, but I have never been really sure, when the shit hits the fan and all my chips are laid down, would I be who I think I am, or something different, something most likely far worse.
We all have dreams, I remember when I was young hearing about school shootings and thinking how I would stand up to another kid with a gun, I rationalized it by saying that a kid with a gun would lack a lot of confidence and be taken by surprise easily, I envisioned myself as a hero. I always had the suspicion that my headmaster in England was possessed of a curious prescience, one piece of evidence to this came when he talked to my classmates and I about the school shootings. He didn't talk to us in any kind of Headmaster way, instead talking as a person and he asked us rhetorically how we would react if a classmate brought in a gun. He then added that a great many people would see themselves defending their classmates, but would be just as likely to hide beneath a desk and soil themselves. The headmaster of my school was named Mr. Jones, I've only ever spoken of him very rarely. On that day though I first came to really seriously consider the reality of reactions versus expectations of self.
Thankfully I still don't know if I would have soiled myself beneath a desk.
The trouble with knowing the extent of one's bravery, or the extent of one's goodness, kindness, any of the virtues we might dream of having within us is that we can write off the times when we fail as unimportant, somehow unworthy of the expenditure of our virtues, this connects most succinctly with the ideas expressed by Tim O'Brien. The flipside is that whenever we do live up to our virtues while we take comfort in ourselves there is always the sneaking doubt, the suspicion of a worse situation, one in which we would crumble, becoming something brutal or hateful.
I have always had a great faith in my own ability to love and care. I have done my share of horrible things to people, I have hated, I have been an asshole. Throughout it all I always told myself that it just wasn't important enough, that there was some situation or some person that would live up to the worthiness of my virtues. The dream lives on, but as just that, a dream, not a reality. We each sit and wait, wondering if we will ever know how brave, how loving, how kind, how forgiving, how compassionate or how determined we are.
Reality so often dissappoints, and when reality pulls through it is often we who end up dissappointing ourselves. But not today. Richard Bach penned the words: "I gave my life to become the person I am right now. Was it worth it?" Yes. Whole heartedly yes.
I don't think that I will ever know the extent of my virtues, I don't know if I'll ever truly know where any of my limits lie, to be honest I've never really believed in limits at all. There was a quote posted on the wall of one of my history classrooms in highschool which read "It's not what you know, it's what you think of in time." It may seem indirect, but I feel that this applies quite precisely to these issues. It doesn't matter what your limits are, what matters is what you actually do, what matters is if you summon the force of will and the strength of character at the key moments when it's needed. There is no way of knowing these things, we are all good people, everyone has the potential within them, and that potential is largely unlimited. The trick is that the only ones in control of any of this is us.
Tonight I am the man I always hoped I was and I will not be cut down by any man, woman or ideal set against me. The only person who can cut me down is me. I am real, and the real me is exactly who I expected.
I also have a book which was given to me by a man named Matt Silver who I respect greatly. The book is a simple hardback which contains a single question or statement to think about on each page. One of the pages is a black, or perhaps dark blue, I can't really tell with the awful lighting in my room. Regardless the question on the page reads: "Will you ever really know how brave you truly are?"
What I want to talk about isn't so much courage or bravery directly, but rather a sense of knowing how anything you truly are. I know that I myself have always had an internal idea of who I am, but I have never been really sure, when the shit hits the fan and all my chips are laid down, would I be who I think I am, or something different, something most likely far worse.
We all have dreams, I remember when I was young hearing about school shootings and thinking how I would stand up to another kid with a gun, I rationalized it by saying that a kid with a gun would lack a lot of confidence and be taken by surprise easily, I envisioned myself as a hero. I always had the suspicion that my headmaster in England was possessed of a curious prescience, one piece of evidence to this came when he talked to my classmates and I about the school shootings. He didn't talk to us in any kind of Headmaster way, instead talking as a person and he asked us rhetorically how we would react if a classmate brought in a gun. He then added that a great many people would see themselves defending their classmates, but would be just as likely to hide beneath a desk and soil themselves. The headmaster of my school was named Mr. Jones, I've only ever spoken of him very rarely. On that day though I first came to really seriously consider the reality of reactions versus expectations of self.
Thankfully I still don't know if I would have soiled myself beneath a desk.
The trouble with knowing the extent of one's bravery, or the extent of one's goodness, kindness, any of the virtues we might dream of having within us is that we can write off the times when we fail as unimportant, somehow unworthy of the expenditure of our virtues, this connects most succinctly with the ideas expressed by Tim O'Brien. The flipside is that whenever we do live up to our virtues while we take comfort in ourselves there is always the sneaking doubt, the suspicion of a worse situation, one in which we would crumble, becoming something brutal or hateful.
I have always had a great faith in my own ability to love and care. I have done my share of horrible things to people, I have hated, I have been an asshole. Throughout it all I always told myself that it just wasn't important enough, that there was some situation or some person that would live up to the worthiness of my virtues. The dream lives on, but as just that, a dream, not a reality. We each sit and wait, wondering if we will ever know how brave, how loving, how kind, how forgiving, how compassionate or how determined we are.
Reality so often dissappoints, and when reality pulls through it is often we who end up dissappointing ourselves. But not today. Richard Bach penned the words: "I gave my life to become the person I am right now. Was it worth it?" Yes. Whole heartedly yes.
I don't think that I will ever know the extent of my virtues, I don't know if I'll ever truly know where any of my limits lie, to be honest I've never really believed in limits at all. There was a quote posted on the wall of one of my history classrooms in highschool which read "It's not what you know, it's what you think of in time." It may seem indirect, but I feel that this applies quite precisely to these issues. It doesn't matter what your limits are, what matters is what you actually do, what matters is if you summon the force of will and the strength of character at the key moments when it's needed. There is no way of knowing these things, we are all good people, everyone has the potential within them, and that potential is largely unlimited. The trick is that the only ones in control of any of this is us.
Tonight I am the man I always hoped I was and I will not be cut down by any man, woman or ideal set against me. The only person who can cut me down is me. I am real, and the real me is exactly who I expected.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
On Oscar Night
I enjoyed watching the Oscars this year. I haven't done it for a while and I can honestly say I'm glad I did this time. One huge reason for that is the interpretive dance group that did the filler entertainment. Seriously, when they made themselves in penguins for Happy Feet I thought it was brilliant. When they formed their bodies into a van for Little Miss Sunshine I wanted to call some Puritans and report the dancers for witch-trial. I immediately hung up the phone when they did Snakes on a Plane and Casino Royale though because only by the will of God could a group of humans do that.
The awards themselves I didn't care about half of, but I suppose that's the way of things, to be honest I don't really understand many of the subtleties of sound mixing and so I've never been too passionate about most of the technical awards. I was pissed off that Pan's Labyrinth didn't win Best Foreign Film, but I haven't seen the German one that won, so I'll have to hold off my rage until I see it, pass a completely biased judgment on how crappy I think it is and feel justified in saying that Pan's Labyrinth was robbed.
Before the awards I was hanging out with my roommate Andy and we were talking about Netflix and the topic of the purpose of movies came up. I think it's an important thing to bear in mind, I watch movies primarily to be entertained, sometimes I'll watch them to learn something also, but that's pretty much the whole deal. I can appreciate technical quality and originality, but the fact that I find myself laughing a lot harder and more entertained by You Got Served and Nick Fury: Agent of Shield (David Hasslehoff with an eyepatch....) than something technically impressive and artistically rendered makes them the more worthwhile movies in my mind. Then again there's nothing wrong with enjoying movies, or anything else for that matter, for other reasons, so long as you don't intentionally dislike a something, regardless of enjoying it, on some contrived principle.
A lot of people get very passionate about the Academy Awards, especially regarding the winners of Best Picture. I remember when Crash won best picture over Brokeback. I was kinda pissed at first too, because I thought Brokeback seemed more important. I hadn't seen Crash yet though, so I gave it a chance. In the end I find myself agreeing with the academy, from a technical standpoint the use of multiple narratives was effective, and I relate and react more to themes of racism than a homosexual love story turn tragedy. That being said, I think both movies were excellent.
The point I'd like to make though is that all art of personal, and so an Oscar isn't the be-all end-all of a movie, people will appreciate movies that aren't nominated and a lot of people will dislike movies which are nominated. Everyone already knows this, and it's not worth jumping up and down saying that the Academy is filled with idiots. The Academy is not filled with idiots, if it were I highly doubt they could have contrived of such an excellent way to make copious amounts of money.
There's a great beauty in the world, and that is in our freedom to appreciate what we wish, exercise that right for yourself and don't put people down when they do the same. 2006 was a relatively good year for movies in my opinion and I'm pretty excited for this year's contribution to our collective need to escape reality once in a while. Have a good night everyone!
The awards themselves I didn't care about half of, but I suppose that's the way of things, to be honest I don't really understand many of the subtleties of sound mixing and so I've never been too passionate about most of the technical awards. I was pissed off that Pan's Labyrinth didn't win Best Foreign Film, but I haven't seen the German one that won, so I'll have to hold off my rage until I see it, pass a completely biased judgment on how crappy I think it is and feel justified in saying that Pan's Labyrinth was robbed.
Before the awards I was hanging out with my roommate Andy and we were talking about Netflix and the topic of the purpose of movies came up. I think it's an important thing to bear in mind, I watch movies primarily to be entertained, sometimes I'll watch them to learn something also, but that's pretty much the whole deal. I can appreciate technical quality and originality, but the fact that I find myself laughing a lot harder and more entertained by You Got Served and Nick Fury: Agent of Shield (David Hasslehoff with an eyepatch....) than something technically impressive and artistically rendered makes them the more worthwhile movies in my mind. Then again there's nothing wrong with enjoying movies, or anything else for that matter, for other reasons, so long as you don't intentionally dislike a something, regardless of enjoying it, on some contrived principle.
A lot of people get very passionate about the Academy Awards, especially regarding the winners of Best Picture. I remember when Crash won best picture over Brokeback. I was kinda pissed at first too, because I thought Brokeback seemed more important. I hadn't seen Crash yet though, so I gave it a chance. In the end I find myself agreeing with the academy, from a technical standpoint the use of multiple narratives was effective, and I relate and react more to themes of racism than a homosexual love story turn tragedy. That being said, I think both movies were excellent.
The point I'd like to make though is that all art of personal, and so an Oscar isn't the be-all end-all of a movie, people will appreciate movies that aren't nominated and a lot of people will dislike movies which are nominated. Everyone already knows this, and it's not worth jumping up and down saying that the Academy is filled with idiots. The Academy is not filled with idiots, if it were I highly doubt they could have contrived of such an excellent way to make copious amounts of money.
There's a great beauty in the world, and that is in our freedom to appreciate what we wish, exercise that right for yourself and don't put people down when they do the same. 2006 was a relatively good year for movies in my opinion and I'm pretty excited for this year's contribution to our collective need to escape reality once in a while. Have a good night everyone!
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Not Meaning Whores...
I actually received some comments on my titling of the "Prostitution" post and thought I would clear some things up. First, yes, I know the dates on some of my posts are wrong, this is because I often start them on one day and then let them sit for days at a time before finishing them. The Prostitution piece went up last night, but I already got a couple of emails regarding the title and why it was used. I want to just say that I meant no offense to anyone in that profession, also that I am not in fact a prostitute myself, so no Tiffany S, I will not be performing that transaction with you.
One definition for prostitution is the use of a talent or skill for an unworthy cause. While writing my post I was considering this a lot and I was thinking of what a worthy cause really is, and it seems to me also that some talents are considered unworthy at the outset regardless of what they are used for. Specifically within our society it is considered largely unnacceptable for women to use seduction and their bodies for any goal. That isn't to say that strip clubs aren't ridiculously popular, but to admit that one is a stripper becomes an embarassment. This is an extreme example.
I remember in my own life finding out that a girl I knew was leading a guy on so get discounts on purchases for some expensive stuff. I thought it was pretty disgusting at the time, and I think a lot of people would agree. In reflection however I thought, why not? Am I suggesting that I wouldn't do anything I could to save 50 bucks if it meant lying? The truth is that there's nothing really wrong with this kind of behavior, everyone's got their talents and it's foolish not to employ them.
Prostitution however as I said is the employment of a talent for an unworthy cause. Obviously this is mostly tied to sexual favors for money in our society, so I'd like to address this. Please be open minded in reading this, I really don't need a slew of emails telling me about how wrong I am, trust that I fully respect your opinions on the subject and am simply offering my own. Anyway, I have decided that I do not disagree morally with prostitution, and following I will tell you why.
Prostituion is profession of using sex to gain money. The acquisition of money is thought of as an unworthy cause, however in looking at my own life I find it difficult to find a time when I have had sex for a cause more worthy than money. This might sound strange, but think about it, money in our society represents the ability to survive, it represents paying rent, eating, and putting clothes on your back. I can't think of many more worth causes than that. When I look at the childish reasons that I've had sex it all seems rather meaningless. For pleasure, hell yeah, but how does my selfishness compare to the whore supporting her kid? I've fucked out of hatred and anger, I've fucked for revenge, I've fucked for control. These things, these things are wrong, and I'm not alone, I can think of a number of women who've tried to manipulate or control me using sex. To me, this kind of thing is just a little more wrong than putting food on the table.
Of course there's also the prevalence of drug addiction in prostitution, selling yourself to get money to fuel your addiction, and then there's the diseases, I think that's a case of more responsibility though. Maybe we just need more respectable and responsible prostitutes.
One definition for prostitution is the use of a talent or skill for an unworthy cause. While writing my post I was considering this a lot and I was thinking of what a worthy cause really is, and it seems to me also that some talents are considered unworthy at the outset regardless of what they are used for. Specifically within our society it is considered largely unnacceptable for women to use seduction and their bodies for any goal. That isn't to say that strip clubs aren't ridiculously popular, but to admit that one is a stripper becomes an embarassment. This is an extreme example.
I remember in my own life finding out that a girl I knew was leading a guy on so get discounts on purchases for some expensive stuff. I thought it was pretty disgusting at the time, and I think a lot of people would agree. In reflection however I thought, why not? Am I suggesting that I wouldn't do anything I could to save 50 bucks if it meant lying? The truth is that there's nothing really wrong with this kind of behavior, everyone's got their talents and it's foolish not to employ them.
Prostitution however as I said is the employment of a talent for an unworthy cause. Obviously this is mostly tied to sexual favors for money in our society, so I'd like to address this. Please be open minded in reading this, I really don't need a slew of emails telling me about how wrong I am, trust that I fully respect your opinions on the subject and am simply offering my own. Anyway, I have decided that I do not disagree morally with prostitution, and following I will tell you why.
Prostituion is profession of using sex to gain money. The acquisition of money is thought of as an unworthy cause, however in looking at my own life I find it difficult to find a time when I have had sex for a cause more worthy than money. This might sound strange, but think about it, money in our society represents the ability to survive, it represents paying rent, eating, and putting clothes on your back. I can't think of many more worth causes than that. When I look at the childish reasons that I've had sex it all seems rather meaningless. For pleasure, hell yeah, but how does my selfishness compare to the whore supporting her kid? I've fucked out of hatred and anger, I've fucked for revenge, I've fucked for control. These things, these things are wrong, and I'm not alone, I can think of a number of women who've tried to manipulate or control me using sex. To me, this kind of thing is just a little more wrong than putting food on the table.
Of course there's also the prevalence of drug addiction in prostitution, selling yourself to get money to fuel your addiction, and then there's the diseases, I think that's a case of more responsibility though. Maybe we just need more respectable and responsible prostitutes.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Ersatz
It is said that art imitates life. However from fiction writing I have learned that the best fiction cannot possibly follow life precisely, because that creates bad fiction. Instead art to me seems to use shades of life as its palette and then repaint an entirely different picture so that the colors used can be better understood.
I thought about all this on a day working at the bookstore when a kid came in a bought a bunch of art supplies with the intention of creating a portfolio of art so that he could get into art school. I acknowledge that there is some purpose to art school, there are various skills and techniques which can be passed on in any artform, but really as I was ringing up this guy's purchases it made me think about how ridiculous it is to be producing art for the sake of getting into a school. In my mind art had always been something that is for it's own sake, it's a form of expression.
I suppose there's no other way for art schools to see if people posess a degree of talent, however this also draws up another issue of how exactly they are gauging the potential of applicants, I'm assuming they are under the impression that they can quantify artistic ability. My problem with this is how much of art appreciation is simply taste, it seems a relatively flawed system to quantify talent and admit or omit people based upon that. Regardless, like I said, I see the necessity of it so I suppose it doesn't matter.
Last year Iread an essay entitled "Hunting is not those heads on the wall" which I thought conveyed a lot of good points about the nature of art. I thouroughly recommend it to anyone interested, if it's available online I'll try and find it so I can post a link.
I thought about all this on a day working at the bookstore when a kid came in a bought a bunch of art supplies with the intention of creating a portfolio of art so that he could get into art school. I acknowledge that there is some purpose to art school, there are various skills and techniques which can be passed on in any artform, but really as I was ringing up this guy's purchases it made me think about how ridiculous it is to be producing art for the sake of getting into a school. In my mind art had always been something that is for it's own sake, it's a form of expression.
I suppose there's no other way for art schools to see if people posess a degree of talent, however this also draws up another issue of how exactly they are gauging the potential of applicants, I'm assuming they are under the impression that they can quantify artistic ability. My problem with this is how much of art appreciation is simply taste, it seems a relatively flawed system to quantify talent and admit or omit people based upon that. Regardless, like I said, I see the necessity of it so I suppose it doesn't matter.
Last year Iread an essay entitled "Hunting is not those heads on the wall" which I thought conveyed a lot of good points about the nature of art. I thouroughly recommend it to anyone interested, if it's available online I'll try and find it so I can post a link.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Prostitution
I've had a couple of good friends in my life. In fact I've actually had several. An important thing to note about my friends however is that they do not get along, if I were to draw out a web diagram of my friends and lines color coded for degrees of friendliness and hatred towards one another I believe I would find myself in the center of a rather hostile graphic representation. There are a couple of individuals who are exemplary of this, managing to be hated by the majority of figures in my life. One of these is someone who has been a very good friend of mine for a long time.
My friend's name is James and he is considered by many to be an asshole. It strikes me as odd that this is the derogatory term applied to him, since it is a term frequently applied to me by a number of people who seem to like me a great deal.
Once while sitting around one night James and I were talking and discussing the things we are readily willing to admit and the things we are not. We each came across the fact that we will fully confess our weaknesses to our friends, to acquaintances, to anyone at all really. In elucidating upon fears, doubts, and weakness one is better able to actually confront these things. It's not that it makes us anymore better equipped to dispell these fears or dismiss weaknesses, but what it does demonstrate is the fact that we are conscious of ourselves, that we understand ourselves to a degree and that we are not afraid of embracing our weakness as a part of our personalities.
After discussing this for a while we each came to admit that when it comes down to it we each are far more reluctant to admit the things that comprise our strengths. One the one hand of this argument there is the case that in admitting your strengths you are in truth exposing your greatest weakness. By telling others where your strength really lies there is no mystery to your action, and that is always a dangerous thing. After talking on this a little more we came to a silence and then told each other what our strengths were. They were of course surprisingly similar, and another interesting fact is that neither of us really enjoy what we are good at.
I wrote on this topic a while ago with my atrocious rant post-math test. I am good at math, and I don't like it, I don't like posessing a calculating or deductive mind. This was one of the similarities between James and I, the other strength was something which I personally hated, but which he enjoyed more. We each described variant talents in detail, but what we discovered it all boiled down to was a simple duo. Lies and general deception.
Knowing when to lie, how to lie, what people want to hear, all this manipulation bullshit. James and I each admitted that it's what we're good at. I can't think of a time when I've really been honest about who I am. I think this is true of most people, everyone has different faces they show. I think this becomes part of our justification though, knowing that others create facades we allow ourselves the privilege to always take it one step further. There's something key about human nature there, the old saying "you give an inch and they'll take a mile" isn't really true, but you can be damn sure that people will take 2 inches minimum. It's a simple case of precedent.
Regardless, I've taken my mile. I've seen a lot of people mislike James, far fewer within my friends mislike me, after all, they wouldn't be my friends otherwise. But this seems a moot point anyway. I wrote earlier on the diea of being chameleons and that we can choose to be whatever we wish, what I did not express at that stage and what I have been thinking of lately is the flipside to this. I thought about how anyone should be able to be what they want, and I know for a fact that this is true for me. Months ago someone expressed an admiration for me, they said that they felt I was too good for them because I could "be whatever I want." I thought they were retarded to be honest. I still think they were and are in truth.
We can each be whatever we wish, but that's only because we are so resistant and so fearful of what we are. I have always had a fear of commitment, any kind of commitment. Right up until the action I can be all for it though, but once it presents itself in truth I'm terrified. I find that in dating I'm most attracted to the unattainable. I find it very difficult to be attracted to a girl who is attracted to me, I find no interest in pursuing that which can be easily caught. It seems stupid, but really to step back and think about it, it makes perfect sense. Throughout life a man or woman will search for who they are, we will all try to find the things which define us, some of us will find it in an occupation, others in bringing ourselves as close to danger as possible, some will try everything and keep trying everything, others still will write lengthy essays in the first person. Some people will find a job, identify with it, settle down, live content. I've never seen myself doing that, perhaps it's just my current drive, but regardless it's a fact.
My current drive leads me to believe that each time I come close to understanding myself I will inherently react by altering myself in some way. Anytime an option presents itself which could possibly close off other possibilities I will react to it with fear and move on. It is for this reason that I can still be whatever I want, I believe the problem becomes that when you can conceivably have everything you can realistically have nothing. In short, by keep these options open I am destined to have a very interesting, but shallow and largely meaningless existence. I haven't decided yet if that will be fullfilling or not, but since it's the road I'm on, I kinda assume it is what I want.
Cutting the bullshit away I find that is there is one thing I am it is an actor. I play my part in the various goings on, I do what I can, and I have the pleasure of often writing my own roles. I've met few other people who are like me in this respect, or perhaps I've met many, but only a few have slipped their costumes so that I could identify with them. I can honestly say, I hate every single one of them.
:-)
At some point I should elucidate on how I go about notions of hatred and anger, because in truth though I say I hate these people, I also love them. I have a similar relationship with anger. But this is all for another day. Have a good night everybody.
My friend's name is James and he is considered by many to be an asshole. It strikes me as odd that this is the derogatory term applied to him, since it is a term frequently applied to me by a number of people who seem to like me a great deal.
Once while sitting around one night James and I were talking and discussing the things we are readily willing to admit and the things we are not. We each came across the fact that we will fully confess our weaknesses to our friends, to acquaintances, to anyone at all really. In elucidating upon fears, doubts, and weakness one is better able to actually confront these things. It's not that it makes us anymore better equipped to dispell these fears or dismiss weaknesses, but what it does demonstrate is the fact that we are conscious of ourselves, that we understand ourselves to a degree and that we are not afraid of embracing our weakness as a part of our personalities.
After discussing this for a while we each came to admit that when it comes down to it we each are far more reluctant to admit the things that comprise our strengths. One the one hand of this argument there is the case that in admitting your strengths you are in truth exposing your greatest weakness. By telling others where your strength really lies there is no mystery to your action, and that is always a dangerous thing. After talking on this a little more we came to a silence and then told each other what our strengths were. They were of course surprisingly similar, and another interesting fact is that neither of us really enjoy what we are good at.
I wrote on this topic a while ago with my atrocious rant post-math test. I am good at math, and I don't like it, I don't like posessing a calculating or deductive mind. This was one of the similarities between James and I, the other strength was something which I personally hated, but which he enjoyed more. We each described variant talents in detail, but what we discovered it all boiled down to was a simple duo. Lies and general deception.
Knowing when to lie, how to lie, what people want to hear, all this manipulation bullshit. James and I each admitted that it's what we're good at. I can't think of a time when I've really been honest about who I am. I think this is true of most people, everyone has different faces they show. I think this becomes part of our justification though, knowing that others create facades we allow ourselves the privilege to always take it one step further. There's something key about human nature there, the old saying "you give an inch and they'll take a mile" isn't really true, but you can be damn sure that people will take 2 inches minimum. It's a simple case of precedent.
Regardless, I've taken my mile. I've seen a lot of people mislike James, far fewer within my friends mislike me, after all, they wouldn't be my friends otherwise. But this seems a moot point anyway. I wrote earlier on the diea of being chameleons and that we can choose to be whatever we wish, what I did not express at that stage and what I have been thinking of lately is the flipside to this. I thought about how anyone should be able to be what they want, and I know for a fact that this is true for me. Months ago someone expressed an admiration for me, they said that they felt I was too good for them because I could "be whatever I want." I thought they were retarded to be honest. I still think they were and are in truth.
We can each be whatever we wish, but that's only because we are so resistant and so fearful of what we are. I have always had a fear of commitment, any kind of commitment. Right up until the action I can be all for it though, but once it presents itself in truth I'm terrified. I find that in dating I'm most attracted to the unattainable. I find it very difficult to be attracted to a girl who is attracted to me, I find no interest in pursuing that which can be easily caught. It seems stupid, but really to step back and think about it, it makes perfect sense. Throughout life a man or woman will search for who they are, we will all try to find the things which define us, some of us will find it in an occupation, others in bringing ourselves as close to danger as possible, some will try everything and keep trying everything, others still will write lengthy essays in the first person. Some people will find a job, identify with it, settle down, live content. I've never seen myself doing that, perhaps it's just my current drive, but regardless it's a fact.
My current drive leads me to believe that each time I come close to understanding myself I will inherently react by altering myself in some way. Anytime an option presents itself which could possibly close off other possibilities I will react to it with fear and move on. It is for this reason that I can still be whatever I want, I believe the problem becomes that when you can conceivably have everything you can realistically have nothing. In short, by keep these options open I am destined to have a very interesting, but shallow and largely meaningless existence. I haven't decided yet if that will be fullfilling or not, but since it's the road I'm on, I kinda assume it is what I want.
Cutting the bullshit away I find that is there is one thing I am it is an actor. I play my part in the various goings on, I do what I can, and I have the pleasure of often writing my own roles. I've met few other people who are like me in this respect, or perhaps I've met many, but only a few have slipped their costumes so that I could identify with them. I can honestly say, I hate every single one of them.
:-)
At some point I should elucidate on how I go about notions of hatred and anger, because in truth though I say I hate these people, I also love them. I have a similar relationship with anger. But this is all for another day. Have a good night everybody.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Trev for Dummies
So a short time ago I figured out what's wrong with the world. I was strolling around the bookstore and I happened to see a combination of two books in a row. The first one was "Religion for Dummies" and the second was "The Complete Idiots Guide to Sex." The epiphany caused by this combination hit me in a similar fashion to the impact of my roommate tackling me to the floor seconds before he tore my phone in half a fortnight ago. I very abruptly realized that where humanity has gone wrong is in it's acceptance of ignorance and idiocy.
Why has religion caused so much death and so many conflicts? Because people are stupid.
Why are so many relationships messed up, and why is sex a taboo and controversial topic when it's so much of our everyday being? Because people are stupid.
We're actually publishing books to encourage complete morons to fuck each other over (pardon the expression) with sex and judge each other based on radical religious beliefs. I have often said that I will not judge a person without knowing more, it's always been my opinion that we should give people a chance and care enough to step into their shoes. But so many people in the world just can't be bothered, they would rather be ignorant. I think I might consider publishing a line of books for more careful and thoughtful people, perhaps I'll call it "________ for people who give a rats ass"
I will share this, I thought of a much cheaper joke for this, and was considering making it the post, just bringing up the Complete Idiots Guide to Sex and stating that dumb people should not reproduce. But that's cruel, so I'm just putting it as this adendum so that you know I'm not serious.
Or am I?
No, I'm really not.
?
Why has religion caused so much death and so many conflicts? Because people are stupid.
Why are so many relationships messed up, and why is sex a taboo and controversial topic when it's so much of our everyday being? Because people are stupid.
We're actually publishing books to encourage complete morons to fuck each other over (pardon the expression) with sex and judge each other based on radical religious beliefs. I have often said that I will not judge a person without knowing more, it's always been my opinion that we should give people a chance and care enough to step into their shoes. But so many people in the world just can't be bothered, they would rather be ignorant. I think I might consider publishing a line of books for more careful and thoughtful people, perhaps I'll call it "________ for people who give a rats ass"
I will share this, I thought of a much cheaper joke for this, and was considering making it the post, just bringing up the Complete Idiots Guide to Sex and stating that dumb people should not reproduce. But that's cruel, so I'm just putting it as this adendum so that you know I'm not serious.
Or am I?
No, I'm really not.
?
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Unintelligible Mess
So to forewarn anyone before they read this, this post is probably going to be compeltely assinine. I'm so angry right now and all I can think to do is stream of consciousness this, I'll go back later and add in pictures though to make it more bearable.
So I just got out of math class, and I fucking hate math class. I hate mathematics in general, I mean, it goes beyond normal hatred, I really dislike what it stands for a lot of the time, the whole idea of making a set of rules for the universe, trying to control shit, just avoiding admitting our feear of the unknown and never being quite satisfied. That's why i stopped pursuing math, and that's why I hate math majors, assholes. I'm joking, I don't really hate them, my friend Crhsi is one and though I haven't seen him in close to 2 years, I trust he's not a complete ass. I hate English majors too though, douchbags, the lot of them. I love language and havea huge passion for it, but english majors, many piss me off, the way they'll use intricate terminology to attempt to make points, when if they just spoke in common language they could often make what they're stating more clear, but of course if what they stated was clear then everyone would see that they're just full of shit.
Like everyone.
But anyway, that's not what this is about, this is about how good I am at Math and how much I hate that and how much that represents SOOOOO much of what I hate about myself. I also dislike it when people capitalize so and extend it, unless it's done in a humorous fashion. But I'll be damned if I'm gonna go back and deloete that now. Crap, this is going tpo be so full of typos by the end, but that's alright, because in all honesty I love typos, I can think of few things as simple that bring me such joy. But yeah anyway, I just got out of math, it was the first math test of the year and I went without a calculator, knowing full well that we were expected to have one and specifically one which can do scientific functions. Anyway the test turned out to be on calculations of payments plans using compound interest, which is of course pretty easy, but without a calculator becomes difficult. The formula looks something like this:
A= PMT[(1+{APR/n}^ny)-1] / (APR/N)
The thing is all the payment times and payment periods were huge, meanwhile dealing with tiny and precise APR values, so I ended up with things like 1.082 ^ 163 WOW, greta, what the fuck. Also, this turned out to be the whole test, like 15 questions of mind numbing bullshit. I ended up having to do all these long ass calculations to the point where the scratchwork on my paper looked like THIS meanwhile my interior thought processes looked like THIS and my general demeanor rapidly deteriorated to something like THIS. So yeah, I'm fucking pissed.
On top of this I keep getting calls all day from my roommate and landlord about my rent, I had a check sitting on my desk, but when the landlord decided to randomly come around nobody was gonna be home besides Blair, so I end up getting a call from him and another from Andy so I have to go home and collect all the checks, not that they're all there. Fucking 15 minutes extra walkingh in the most frigid weather imginable. I swear to god if this keeps up I will not be leaving my bed for the netx couple of weeks. That's a lie, I'm enjoying classes too much.
The thing I fucking hate about this is that I'm not even remotely mad at anyone for the rent check thing, it's not my landlord's fault and it's not Andy's fault, it's nobodies fucking fault, and it's not even that big of a deal, and then that made me mad enough that the math test and subsequent afterthoughts became the straw that broke the camel's back. I ended up thinking about that, and in the end even more than the straw that breaks the camels back I think I hate all the meaningless straws that are in there because at the time they seemed tolerable. It's like we go around and just accept things for so god damn long because we don't feel like losing face by reacting to them, or we want to perpetuate a situation in the hopes that it will get better. All the while that last straw could come anytime. Fuck those other straws.
But anyway, god dammit I'm so unfocused. But you know what, I love being angry, I feel so god damn productive, even though this is totally worthless it's the most rapid writing I've done in a few days and it feels fucking good. After I'm done with this I might go watch Look Back in Anger which is a movie I bought after hearing the tagline "Jimmy Porter is an angry young man" and seeing a scene in which he called some actress an evil-minded little virgin. Goid damn that man is angry.
But Math pisses me off for several reasons, I just did that test, I won't get an A since I got tired of the calculations after a while, but I certainly won't fail it, I predict a B. And that's ridiculous, I haven't really touched a math problem in almost a year, but it's all still there. I can't stand it, and this all sounds really conceited, but look again and I'm rally not, I absolutely hate the fact that this is the kind of area in which my talent lies. I feel like it's representative of so much of my life, I will excel and succeed in areas I have no desire to dominate in, I will draw friends to me who I really don't give a shit about or find interesting, but then when I find someone who I can actually fucking connect to I'll blow it. If I lose all my mathematical skill and transfer just a single 1% of it to an area of my life that I care about, I would be so god damn happy.
Regrets, regrets fucking piss me off, ad it's a point I don't even want to talk about, but I'm thinking about it now so what the hell. Say you don't have any regrets and you are a god damn liar. At the same time you're telling the absolute truth. Fucking pisses me off. I have no regrets, if I wasn't me I'd kill to be me and to have had the experiences I've had, even at my worst I've always come out learning something and that really makes me happy. At the same time, you've gotta have the humility to admit when you have made a mistake. That's where the dichotomy comes in HOLY SHIT BVAD SPELLING, but it's like, yeah, in the cosmic sense of regret you should have none, you should be content to trust your decisions in the past. But hearing that armed with the knowledge of today we'd do the same as yesterday, I don't agree with. I dunno, I guess my problem is in hurting other people, every time I've made someone upset or made them cry, yeah, I'd fucking take it back, and if you wouldn't that makes you a pretty shitty human being. I don't even mean that, I don't think there are any shitty human beings, sometimes I says things like "all human beings are shitty" but I don't mean that either. Whatever, it really doesn't matter.
I also really dislike my own epiphanies, I have a general distaste for any surprises my subconscious will spring on me in the middle of something, like right now, after writing that, I know exactly what I'm angry about, or rather, what I'm upset about. We all do make mistakes in life, I've made a ton and I've lost a lot, somehow along the way I haven't lost my life and I wonder if that's such a great thing to be holding onto so dearly. I spent this summer waiting to be arrested for a crim eI didn't commit. It's not like I even came close to really getting arrested, but just that 1 in a thousand chacen that I would really had me freaked out. I could've died in so many car accidents by now, and yet I don't, they are a much more likely chacne of happening. Why am I talking about chances and odds here, I dunno, I think it's that in the end the odds and chances don't matter, because we're all in the same boat and eventually our number's gonna come up completely randomly, and in that second I know I will regret right now, I spent a long time being able to die happily, and now I feel like that's gone again, and it really pisses me off.
Tell you what though if there's anything that makes me happy it's these things: Moogles
That's all, have a good night everyone
So I just got out of math class, and I fucking hate math class. I hate mathematics in general, I mean, it goes beyond normal hatred, I really dislike what it stands for a lot of the time, the whole idea of making a set of rules for the universe, trying to control shit, just avoiding admitting our feear of the unknown and never being quite satisfied. That's why i stopped pursuing math, and that's why I hate math majors, assholes. I'm joking, I don't really hate them, my friend Crhsi is one and though I haven't seen him in close to 2 years, I trust he's not a complete ass. I hate English majors too though, douchbags, the lot of them. I love language and havea huge passion for it, but english majors, many piss me off, the way they'll use intricate terminology to attempt to make points, when if they just spoke in common language they could often make what they're stating more clear, but of course if what they stated was clear then everyone would see that they're just full of shit.
Like everyone.
But anyway, that's not what this is about, this is about how good I am at Math and how much I hate that and how much that represents SOOOOO much of what I hate about myself. I also dislike it when people capitalize so and extend it, unless it's done in a humorous fashion. But I'll be damned if I'm gonna go back and deloete that now. Crap, this is going tpo be so full of typos by the end, but that's alright, because in all honesty I love typos, I can think of few things as simple that bring me such joy. But yeah anyway, I just got out of math, it was the first math test of the year and I went without a calculator, knowing full well that we were expected to have one and specifically one which can do scientific functions. Anyway the test turned out to be on calculations of payments plans using compound interest, which is of course pretty easy, but without a calculator becomes difficult. The formula looks something like this:
A= PMT[(1+{APR/n}^ny)-1] / (APR/N)
The thing is all the payment times and payment periods were huge, meanwhile dealing with tiny and precise APR values, so I ended up with things like 1.082 ^ 163 WOW, greta, what the fuck. Also, this turned out to be the whole test, like 15 questions of mind numbing bullshit. I ended up having to do all these long ass calculations to the point where the scratchwork on my paper looked like THIS meanwhile my interior thought processes looked like THIS and my general demeanor rapidly deteriorated to something like THIS. So yeah, I'm fucking pissed.
On top of this I keep getting calls all day from my roommate and landlord about my rent, I had a check sitting on my desk, but when the landlord decided to randomly come around nobody was gonna be home besides Blair, so I end up getting a call from him and another from Andy so I have to go home and collect all the checks, not that they're all there. Fucking 15 minutes extra walkingh in the most frigid weather imginable. I swear to god if this keeps up I will not be leaving my bed for the netx couple of weeks. That's a lie, I'm enjoying classes too much.
The thing I fucking hate about this is that I'm not even remotely mad at anyone for the rent check thing, it's not my landlord's fault and it's not Andy's fault, it's nobodies fucking fault, and it's not even that big of a deal, and then that made me mad enough that the math test and subsequent afterthoughts became the straw that broke the camel's back. I ended up thinking about that, and in the end even more than the straw that breaks the camels back I think I hate all the meaningless straws that are in there because at the time they seemed tolerable. It's like we go around and just accept things for so god damn long because we don't feel like losing face by reacting to them, or we want to perpetuate a situation in the hopes that it will get better. All the while that last straw could come anytime. Fuck those other straws.
But anyway, god dammit I'm so unfocused. But you know what, I love being angry, I feel so god damn productive, even though this is totally worthless it's the most rapid writing I've done in a few days and it feels fucking good. After I'm done with this I might go watch Look Back in Anger which is a movie I bought after hearing the tagline "Jimmy Porter is an angry young man" and seeing a scene in which he called some actress an evil-minded little virgin. Goid damn that man is angry.
But Math pisses me off for several reasons, I just did that test, I won't get an A since I got tired of the calculations after a while, but I certainly won't fail it, I predict a B. And that's ridiculous, I haven't really touched a math problem in almost a year, but it's all still there. I can't stand it, and this all sounds really conceited, but look again and I'm rally not, I absolutely hate the fact that this is the kind of area in which my talent lies. I feel like it's representative of so much of my life, I will excel and succeed in areas I have no desire to dominate in, I will draw friends to me who I really don't give a shit about or find interesting, but then when I find someone who I can actually fucking connect to I'll blow it. If I lose all my mathematical skill and transfer just a single 1% of it to an area of my life that I care about, I would be so god damn happy.
Regrets, regrets fucking piss me off, ad it's a point I don't even want to talk about, but I'm thinking about it now so what the hell. Say you don't have any regrets and you are a god damn liar. At the same time you're telling the absolute truth. Fucking pisses me off. I have no regrets, if I wasn't me I'd kill to be me and to have had the experiences I've had, even at my worst I've always come out learning something and that really makes me happy. At the same time, you've gotta have the humility to admit when you have made a mistake. That's where the dichotomy comes in HOLY SHIT BVAD SPELLING, but it's like, yeah, in the cosmic sense of regret you should have none, you should be content to trust your decisions in the past. But hearing that armed with the knowledge of today we'd do the same as yesterday, I don't agree with. I dunno, I guess my problem is in hurting other people, every time I've made someone upset or made them cry, yeah, I'd fucking take it back, and if you wouldn't that makes you a pretty shitty human being. I don't even mean that, I don't think there are any shitty human beings, sometimes I says things like "all human beings are shitty" but I don't mean that either. Whatever, it really doesn't matter.
I also really dislike my own epiphanies, I have a general distaste for any surprises my subconscious will spring on me in the middle of something, like right now, after writing that, I know exactly what I'm angry about, or rather, what I'm upset about. We all do make mistakes in life, I've made a ton and I've lost a lot, somehow along the way I haven't lost my life and I wonder if that's such a great thing to be holding onto so dearly. I spent this summer waiting to be arrested for a crim eI didn't commit. It's not like I even came close to really getting arrested, but just that 1 in a thousand chacen that I would really had me freaked out. I could've died in so many car accidents by now, and yet I don't, they are a much more likely chacne of happening. Why am I talking about chances and odds here, I dunno, I think it's that in the end the odds and chances don't matter, because we're all in the same boat and eventually our number's gonna come up completely randomly, and in that second I know I will regret right now, I spent a long time being able to die happily, and now I feel like that's gone again, and it really pisses me off.
Tell you what though if there's anything that makes me happy it's these things: Moogles
That's all, have a good night everyone
Sunday, February 4, 2007
Comfort
Remember to wake up with a smile each day, because no matter what's going on, one thing is for sure, you just broke your own personal record for most consecutive days spent alive.
Friday, February 2, 2007
With Direction
So today I finally did it, I finally put enough pieces of my life together to form a cohesive plan for what I want to do with my life after graduation. This plan shall remain largely a secret except to those I have already entrusted it to, but suffice it to say, it is very much a plan in the strain of existence that people would expect. Needless to say it will involve drinking, sex, beaches and bitches.
I feel really good about myself now, probably better than I've felt since the days when I knew I wanted to be a pilot, there really is something to be said of having a dream and some direction in life. Anyway, I'm off to get drunk and celebrate, I hope everyone else has a wonderful night!
I feel really good about myself now, probably better than I've felt since the days when I knew I wanted to be a pilot, there really is something to be said of having a dream and some direction in life. Anyway, I'm off to get drunk and celebrate, I hope everyone else has a wonderful night!
Thursday, February 1, 2007
There is only You and Me
I have a firm belief in bullshit. Bullshit can change the world just as surely as non-bullshit. Lies can wield the same force as truth and have equally positive or negative effects, there is no argument that some lies can be sweet, some can be cruel, and the same is valid of truths. A lot of my friends will joke about my ability to bullshit, it’s gotten me through much of college both on verbal and written levels. The reasons for this are numerous, it is likely largely due to the fact that I am relatively talented when it comes to saying what I mean to say, but this really isn’t about my bullshit.
The truth is, bullshit can change minds, bullshit can convince people, bullshit weighs in heavily as a potent force. Some people claim to be able to smell bullshit when people are saying it, but this is untrue, more often people know very particular pieces of bullshit when they are spoken due to their own personal knowledge. But I’m rambling here, so what is my point?
In an ever changing world and as ever changing people, nothing we say is ever the full truth, at least not in any lasting sense, because our minds and opinions can change and with that so can the beliefs which we hold true. It is somewhat scary to think about how much we do change over very short periods of time. I began writing this post because I am currently reading a feminist reaction piece to notions of Cartesian Mathematics and it made me start thinking about the subtle yet overwhelming levels of bullshit which exist all around us and we willingly believe in order to maintain notions of objectivity within the world.
In recent months, in recent years, I have experienced a great lack of confidence in my identity and it has given me great cause for concern. In truth my search for identity has been a futile one because I have been looking for the wrong kinds of answers. Frankly right now I could define myself in a number of ways, by the things I care about, the beliefs I hold true and the powers which I perceive are exercised over me and the powers which I myself exercise over the world. But all of these things can change, and do, quite regularly. The real answer I should accept is simply that I am me. This is the most basic of identification but it is one which holds true for as long as is necessary, do my beliefs really matter? Does it matter what I love, what I hate or what I hold true, or are all those things merely temporary manifestations which pale in comparison to the simple fact that I am here right now?
Descartes posited to civilization that mathematics was the key to solving the entire universe, and that we need this kind of strict system of rules in order to bring order to our lives. Descartes truly lived in a great fear of chaos and his way of dealing with it was to put his faith into God and mathematics. Since the dawn of thought men and women alike have wrestled to control the universe, control each other and control themselves. For the second day in a row I find I shall now quote from Fight Club and say that sometimes it is most important just to...
Let. Go.
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