Science has a theory that flies into the face of science itself. So far, it has been unable to prove that intelligence has anything to do with survival. The theory is rather simple. Despite our human brains being so much larger than, say, an Ant's brain, we coexist just as succesfully on this planet. And though the lowly Ant will never likely land on the Moon, what, if anything, does that have to do with the survival of the Ant population? My own theory dovetails nicely into this theory - we humans survive despite our intelligence.
At the turn of the last century, Anthropoligists in England and American and other civilized countries had a heirarchical structure of evolutionary theory - to be blunt, that all human evolution eventually lead to England (or America, or Germany, or... you get the idea). One part of this theory still survives today in the nomenclature, first world, second world, third world - as if technology was the sole measurement of success on this planet. Though anthropologists claim to no longer believe this structure, opting for a more neutral "everyone is equal" structure, I believe there is merit in the idea - but that the order is reversed.
For 10,000 or more years, native peoples lived on the land in Nevada, Utah, and parts of California. Their lives were not complicated. They would hunt during parts of the year, gather during other parts, stay in family structures, sing, dance, tell tales, and construct elaborate religious excercises to mark the seasons and to pass on the important things in their lives. They had primitive dwellings, not transportation, no doctors, no electricity, no laptops, and no Starbucks. Yet, they managed to survive and remain blissfully at peace for 10,000 years. I don't need to tell you why that ended.
Most animal colonies also live is such blissfully ignorant conditions - eating, mating, and surviving in ways passed down to them generation to generation for millions of years. They have no computers, no automobiles, no airplanes, no ATM machines, and yet, they manage to survive just fine.
In my theory of devolution, this sort of blissful peaceful co-existence with all things on our planet would be the ideal - the goal - and the further we get from that, the lower down the chart we become. By this standard, America would be at the bottom, and undiscovered tribes in the Amazon would be at the top. We would be asked to quarantine ourselves, lest we infect the rest of the world with our devolved desires for more technology, more power, more control, more arrogance, more pride. We would be the ones living on preserves while the rest of the world sought to teach us how to survive on this planet.
We are too smart for our own good. We can't help but fail towards destruction every time. We build airplanes to carry people to new heights, and then use them to drop bombs on innocent people. We create rockets to carry people to the Moon, and then use them to carry atomic weapons of death and destruction. We develop the technologies to fight disease and poverty, and then use it to creat silent, deadly killers. We reach and surpass our carrying capacity on a daily basis. Our technology keeps us alive so we can rape and destroy more and more of this planet every single day. We humans have become a blight on this planet.
I envision a world of the not too distant future where technology has failed. A smog induced ice age may come, or a nuclear cloud, or a human created virus, that wipes out large portions of our population and the weakest link in the chain fails. Chaos reigns. Society crumbles. Our infrastructure is destroyed. Our world is thrown violently back a thousand years, two, ten... back to a point from before we became this pariah of nature. I do not look on this world bleakly, but as a world of promise. With the knowledge of 10,000 years stored and preserved in computers and databases, the human race would have the chance to start over, to wipe the slate clean. Only this time, instead of racing ahead willynilly to see just how far we can overextend ourselves, to see whether we can be the person on the block with the most toys, we will grow and adapt with the planet around us using our technology to live in peace and harmony.
We once lived in the Garden of Eden - in harmony with all the world around us. Food was plentiful. Nature surrounded us. We were free to do as we wished and in command of everything around us except one single tree. Our fall from grace taught us to do many things on our own to replace things that God had already provided for us. We learned to plant crops and domesticate animals, to create clothing and provide shelter, to build and to destroy. We started to foolishly believe that our own intelligence could save us and make us masters of our own destiny. The smarter we become, the less likely we will survive.
If you want to survive longer, turn yourself back to God - go back towards the Garden, go back towards simplicity, go back towards peace and harmony where everyone shared what they had and the survival of one was paramount to the survival of all. Go back. Devolve. Before you become too smart for your own good.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
In all humility...
"This is Howard Cosell, reporting to you live from the Sinai Desert where the Israelite slaves have just posted a major upset over the favored Egyptian Pharoah. With me now to discuss this victory is Israelite big man, Moses. Moses, first of all, congratulations..."
"Yeah, thanks Howard. Its great to be here. I'd like to thank my Mom and my Dad, my brother Aaron, my sister, my wife and my children, but most of all I'd like to thank my coach, Yahweh. Without Him, this victory would not have been possible."
"Tell us, Moses, how were you able to accomplish such an upset?"
"Well, Howard, I knew it was going to be tough going in, but I fought and I persevered. The Egyptians played a great game, but you know, I never had any doubt about the outcome. Coach said they'd keep coming at us, but you know, I have mad skillz."
"That trick with the staff into the snake early on in the contest was quite a feat, how were you able to accomplish such an impossible task?"
"Practice, Howard. You know. I'd been practicing that for weeks, throwing it just right so that it turned into a snake when it hit the ground in front of Pharoah. I thought it went just like I practiced it."
"And the plagues?"
"The plagues... I mean, I knew I was good, but damn... I guess that's why Coach drafted me. I really didn't know I had it in me. I guess I really slayed them though."
"Of course, the contest looked in doubt at the end but then you pulled out the whopper of all escapes, the last second desperation parting of the Red Sea. What was going through your mind?"
"Let's put credit where credit is due, Howard. This is my lucky staff. When push came to shove, it really delivered. It wasn't easy holding all that water back, but this staff was more than up to the challenge."
"Now that you've defeated the mightiest army in the world, what are you and the Israelite nation going to do now?"
"We're going to Sinai, baby! Whooo! I'm the King of the World!"
"So there you have it. Moses has led his people out of Egypt and is now heading into the next level of competition, the Sinai. This is Howard Cosell from the Red Sea. Back to you..."
Monday, April 10, 2006
What Do You Want?
In Babylon 5, a mysterious stranger comes aboard the space station and begins to ask each of the main characters one simple and haunting question, "What do you want?" The stranger never elaborates from the question and each of the characters, naturally, has a different answer. Finally, one of the main characters gets frustrated with the same question being asked over and over again, so he answers with a long monologue about what he wants - glory, riches, his empire returned to power, etc... Being a good sci-fi show, this stranger provides all of these things for him - though not all at once and not without strings attached. It has always made me wary of answering that simple, yet loaded, question. "What do you want?"
On Palm Sunday I had a full slate. I had written down several games for the Youth Group to play during our Youth Meeting after church. I finished writing the letter to be sent to all of our former youth for a big Youth Group Reunion in May. I had to rush out to the store that morning because I had promised to provide the cookies and coffee for our church coffee hour after services. I barely got to church on time to get everything done - from setting up the tables to making the coffee to warming up my voice for the church choir. During Choir warm-ups I was asked to recite part of the opening litany for the service which I gladly did. The service went ahead as scheduled and right as the announcements were being read, I slipped out the back of the choir loft and ran downstairs to get the last of the coffee service ready for after church. Then came the congregation and I had to serve them coffee and cake and cookies and then clean up. Then it was time for Youth Group and I had to run all the games. And then clean up. And then I had to rush out of the church to go home and get changed for T-Ball Practice with Andy.
As I climbed into my car, I was rather annoyed that someone had left my CD case upended on my front seat. I threw it over into the passenger seat on top of all the stuff that had been in my glove box and inserted the key into the ignition and checked the rear view mirrors and started the truck and... Wait a second here! I slowly turned and looked at the pile of stuff in my passengers seat and the thought finally dawned on me - what was that stuff doing all over the inside of my car. Then I turned, almost comically, and looked into the back seat and saw the glass that was now smashed all over the inside of my car. I'd like to say that I was very calm and cool about it right from the get go, but despite the fact that I'd just spent five hours in church, a very choice epithet escaped from my lips. Someone had broken into my car.
As I went through my truck putting things back in their place and looking for things that were missing, several thoughts clamored for my attention right away. Believe it or not, I thanked God. Not because I was happy that someone had done this but because I knew it could have been much worse. With all the help I've been giving people moving things lately, my truck was virtually empty - and what had been there had been looked through, but nothing of great value had been stolen. I normally carry a change dish in my car and have been carrying it for years and last week, out of the clear blue, I decided to empty it into my coin bank. So, though my car had been broken into, I had not actually lost anything of value. My second thought was probably the same one you've all had by now, "ON PALM SUNDAY?!" The brazen act of smashing someone's car window in and rifling through that person's stuff in order to commit petty theft is bad enough, but on Holy Ground on a Holy Day - that really takes the cake. But then my third thought swept over me like a peaceful stream - who cares? Its only things. And if these people needed it more than I did, they were welcome to it. I was actually worried for their souls.
We've all done terrible things before - maybe not as brazen as a smash and grab on Palm Sunday, but certainly bad enough. How many times has someone prayed to God about your terrible dark deeds? Prayed for your deliverance? Prayed for your guidance? Prayed for your soul? I'd both like to feel and hate to feel that many people have prayed for me over the years. I'd hate to think that I have been that much of a nuisance, but at the same time, it gives me comfort to know that someone professes a love of Jesus Christ that is deep enough to pray for me and my transgressions against them.
I know I should be angry, but I'm not. I know I should be afraid, but I'm not. It is Holy Week, the week where we all prepare anew to receive God's saving grace for our lives. How can something so trivial upset me in a week like this?
What do I want? (Besides a new piece of glass for my car ;) I want to find the people responsible for this. I want to get alone in a room with them. And I want to forgive them and pray with them and offer them other things that they need. I want to live in a world where living my convictions isn't so hard because everyone lives them as well. I want to make this world a better place than I left it. I want to live an exemplary life and show people the way to Christ - to take up not only my own cross and burdens, but some of theirs as well, and say, "Follow me and I'll take you before the Throne." That is what I want.
On Palm Sunday I had a full slate. I had written down several games for the Youth Group to play during our Youth Meeting after church. I finished writing the letter to be sent to all of our former youth for a big Youth Group Reunion in May. I had to rush out to the store that morning because I had promised to provide the cookies and coffee for our church coffee hour after services. I barely got to church on time to get everything done - from setting up the tables to making the coffee to warming up my voice for the church choir. During Choir warm-ups I was asked to recite part of the opening litany for the service which I gladly did. The service went ahead as scheduled and right as the announcements were being read, I slipped out the back of the choir loft and ran downstairs to get the last of the coffee service ready for after church. Then came the congregation and I had to serve them coffee and cake and cookies and then clean up. Then it was time for Youth Group and I had to run all the games. And then clean up. And then I had to rush out of the church to go home and get changed for T-Ball Practice with Andy.
As I climbed into my car, I was rather annoyed that someone had left my CD case upended on my front seat. I threw it over into the passenger seat on top of all the stuff that had been in my glove box and inserted the key into the ignition and checked the rear view mirrors and started the truck and... Wait a second here! I slowly turned and looked at the pile of stuff in my passengers seat and the thought finally dawned on me - what was that stuff doing all over the inside of my car. Then I turned, almost comically, and looked into the back seat and saw the glass that was now smashed all over the inside of my car. I'd like to say that I was very calm and cool about it right from the get go, but despite the fact that I'd just spent five hours in church, a very choice epithet escaped from my lips. Someone had broken into my car.
As I went through my truck putting things back in their place and looking for things that were missing, several thoughts clamored for my attention right away. Believe it or not, I thanked God. Not because I was happy that someone had done this but because I knew it could have been much worse. With all the help I've been giving people moving things lately, my truck was virtually empty - and what had been there had been looked through, but nothing of great value had been stolen. I normally carry a change dish in my car and have been carrying it for years and last week, out of the clear blue, I decided to empty it into my coin bank. So, though my car had been broken into, I had not actually lost anything of value. My second thought was probably the same one you've all had by now, "ON PALM SUNDAY?!" The brazen act of smashing someone's car window in and rifling through that person's stuff in order to commit petty theft is bad enough, but on Holy Ground on a Holy Day - that really takes the cake. But then my third thought swept over me like a peaceful stream - who cares? Its only things. And if these people needed it more than I did, they were welcome to it. I was actually worried for their souls.
We've all done terrible things before - maybe not as brazen as a smash and grab on Palm Sunday, but certainly bad enough. How many times has someone prayed to God about your terrible dark deeds? Prayed for your deliverance? Prayed for your guidance? Prayed for your soul? I'd both like to feel and hate to feel that many people have prayed for me over the years. I'd hate to think that I have been that much of a nuisance, but at the same time, it gives me comfort to know that someone professes a love of Jesus Christ that is deep enough to pray for me and my transgressions against them.
I know I should be angry, but I'm not. I know I should be afraid, but I'm not. It is Holy Week, the week where we all prepare anew to receive God's saving grace for our lives. How can something so trivial upset me in a week like this?
What do I want? (Besides a new piece of glass for my car ;) I want to find the people responsible for this. I want to get alone in a room with them. And I want to forgive them and pray with them and offer them other things that they need. I want to live in a world where living my convictions isn't so hard because everyone lives them as well. I want to make this world a better place than I left it. I want to live an exemplary life and show people the way to Christ - to take up not only my own cross and burdens, but some of theirs as well, and say, "Follow me and I'll take you before the Throne." That is what I want.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Friday, April 07, 2006
Friday's Category
In honor of the posts this week:
Name the three craziest things you've ever done?
Have a good weekend.
Name the three craziest things you've ever done?
Have a good weekend.
A New Master
5 In love a throne will be established;
in faithfulness a man will sit on it—
one from the house of David—
one who in judging seeks justice
and speeds the cause of righteousness.
(Isaiah 16)
The political polls show George Bush to be down to 36 Percent Popularity. Long the darling of the religious right in this country, he has squandered whatever popular support he once had on a disastrous war in the Middle East, a nearly mindless devotion to the security of this nation, unwise political moves, and revelations from leaks in his government into his dabbling in areas that don't need our protection. His credibility is limited. His political clout is no more. He has not been faithful to all the American people. He has not sought justice. He has never sped the cause of righteousness.
After reading this from my Bible last night I felt my anger slipping away and a feeling of joy filling me. This world has become a nasty place to live in the last six months or so. The war is getting increasingly bad. Iran is threatening to spread it into dark corners I don't want to think about. Global warming is finally getting the better of us. My favorite pasttime has been rocked by scandal. It seems that around every corner disaster, calamity, and death awaits. In my own life, it has been a rough time as well. Financial burdens are starting to take their toll - and I never had much to begin with. My health has been neglected for too long. My job is no longer satisfying. My Novel has become stagnant. There has been nothing to look towards - no joy in my life and none yet to come.
But...
IN LOVE, A THRONE WILL BE ESTABLISHED!
Not hate. Not political divisiveness. Not security. Not financial gain. Not demogoguery. Not idealism. Not strength. Not tax breaks. Not social security protection. Not for or against abortion. Not any of these things - but Love. Love of friend. Love of neighbor. Love of family. Love of citizens. Love of non-citizens. Love of people in every walk of life, every financial status, every ideology, every religion, everyone, equally, and at the same time.
How can anyone be gloomy after that?
I've decided to change up ICON on Monday. A new direction, a new look. Gone will be the old gloomy Will. No more discussions of politics and dark places. It will now be all sunshine, all the time. What do we have to worry about anymore? Soon, our true leader will come to run this world and this life. He will establish a throne in love and rule in faithfulness and righteousness forever and ever more. In dedication to this coming ruler, I will now turn over my site to a sunny disposition and a can do attitude.
Come back on Monday and vote for a new leader in your life.
in faithfulness a man will sit on it—
one from the house of David—
one who in judging seeks justice
and speeds the cause of righteousness.
(Isaiah 16)
The political polls show George Bush to be down to 36 Percent Popularity. Long the darling of the religious right in this country, he has squandered whatever popular support he once had on a disastrous war in the Middle East, a nearly mindless devotion to the security of this nation, unwise political moves, and revelations from leaks in his government into his dabbling in areas that don't need our protection. His credibility is limited. His political clout is no more. He has not been faithful to all the American people. He has not sought justice. He has never sped the cause of righteousness.
After reading this from my Bible last night I felt my anger slipping away and a feeling of joy filling me. This world has become a nasty place to live in the last six months or so. The war is getting increasingly bad. Iran is threatening to spread it into dark corners I don't want to think about. Global warming is finally getting the better of us. My favorite pasttime has been rocked by scandal. It seems that around every corner disaster, calamity, and death awaits. In my own life, it has been a rough time as well. Financial burdens are starting to take their toll - and I never had much to begin with. My health has been neglected for too long. My job is no longer satisfying. My Novel has become stagnant. There has been nothing to look towards - no joy in my life and none yet to come.
But...
IN LOVE, A THRONE WILL BE ESTABLISHED!
Not hate. Not political divisiveness. Not security. Not financial gain. Not demogoguery. Not idealism. Not strength. Not tax breaks. Not social security protection. Not for or against abortion. Not any of these things - but Love. Love of friend. Love of neighbor. Love of family. Love of citizens. Love of non-citizens. Love of people in every walk of life, every financial status, every ideology, every religion, everyone, equally, and at the same time.
How can anyone be gloomy after that?
I've decided to change up ICON on Monday. A new direction, a new look. Gone will be the old gloomy Will. No more discussions of politics and dark places. It will now be all sunshine, all the time. What do we have to worry about anymore? Soon, our true leader will come to run this world and this life. He will establish a throne in love and rule in faithfulness and righteousness forever and ever more. In dedication to this coming ruler, I will now turn over my site to a sunny disposition and a can do attitude.
Come back on Monday and vote for a new leader in your life.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
A Message From My Brother
My brother is currently in Chicago under his own recognizance attending a conference of dispatchers (I don't know why they didn't just have a phone conference ;) He sent me the following e-mail. I've edited it for his sake and so that my brother might be able to fly back home again in a couple of days. Please, enjoy...
For better or for worse, I am stuck in Chicago until Sunday morning and am trying to make the most of it.
They have a new feature on United Airlines. Let me segue for a moment: They don't feed you anymore - which is most definitely a good thing. Anywho, they have this new feature where for better or for worse you can now hear the Air Traffic Controllers talking to the pilots. As if I need a self-conscious pilot thinking about how he sounds on the radio and takes my (Since I am there and own seat 39J for the remainder of the flight we can consider this MY AIRPLANE!!!) 737 "HEAVY" and plows it into the back of that Korean Airlines flight where even though the pilot speaks English no one can understand him and they ask him over and over to repeat what he just said. Nothing like juggling 15 eggs and one moving chain saw at the same time is there buddy?
The best part of the whole experience is listening to this one Air Traffic Controller who keeps asking if he had "just spoken to some one" or if he had "all ready given instructions" to another plane? I am a professional dispatcher and in less than five minutes I knew every plane in that controllers air space and had figured out who was where and what their altitudes and headings were relative to all the other planes. This is the man’s job. Would somebody just piss test that guy and toss him out the front door of the TRACOM before he kills someone, like me. I would prefer to just have my mid-air collision and not know about it and be done with it in oblivion. Which as an American citizen I believe is one of my rights.
I was looking forward to the free carbonated beverage of my choice and a bag of stale over-salted peanuts, but no! United Airlines just f***ed me up again. Well, at least I hope this time that they did not charge my brother’s Credit Card again. Instead of my mine. If they did, Thanks for the free flight Will!
Oh! Did I mention that I really, really hate to fly?..A lot!!
Chicago Day 1..14:42 hours
My brother was referring to a little incident with United Airlines that will keep me from ever flying with them again. I don't tend to do business with people that steal money from me and then try and tell me its my fault and to prove that I didn't have anything to do with it and that even if I did prove it, they'd only give me half my money back. When I start my book tour, I'm only going to make one request - send me anywhere, but don't send me on United Airlines! For $180, they lost my business forever. And some day, when I'm on the Tonight Show, I'm going to tell my story to a national audience! Its amazing how cheap bad publicity is!
For better or for worse, I am stuck in Chicago until Sunday morning and am trying to make the most of it.
They have a new feature on United Airlines. Let me segue for a moment: They don't feed you anymore - which is most definitely a good thing. Anywho, they have this new feature where for better or for worse you can now hear the Air Traffic Controllers talking to the pilots. As if I need a self-conscious pilot thinking about how he sounds on the radio and takes my (Since I am there and own seat 39J for the remainder of the flight we can consider this MY AIRPLANE!!!) 737 "HEAVY" and plows it into the back of that Korean Airlines flight where even though the pilot speaks English no one can understand him and they ask him over and over to repeat what he just said. Nothing like juggling 15 eggs and one moving chain saw at the same time is there buddy?
The best part of the whole experience is listening to this one Air Traffic Controller who keeps asking if he had "just spoken to some one" or if he had "all ready given instructions" to another plane? I am a professional dispatcher and in less than five minutes I knew every plane in that controllers air space and had figured out who was where and what their altitudes and headings were relative to all the other planes. This is the man’s job. Would somebody just piss test that guy and toss him out the front door of the TRACOM before he kills someone, like me. I would prefer to just have my mid-air collision and not know about it and be done with it in oblivion. Which as an American citizen I believe is one of my rights.
I was looking forward to the free carbonated beverage of my choice and a bag of stale over-salted peanuts, but no! United Airlines just f***ed me up again. Well, at least I hope this time that they did not charge my brother’s Credit Card again. Instead of my mine. If they did, Thanks for the free flight Will!
Oh! Did I mention that I really, really hate to fly?..A lot!!
Chicago Day 1..14:42 hours
My brother was referring to a little incident with United Airlines that will keep me from ever flying with them again. I don't tend to do business with people that steal money from me and then try and tell me its my fault and to prove that I didn't have anything to do with it and that even if I did prove it, they'd only give me half my money back. When I start my book tour, I'm only going to make one request - send me anywhere, but don't send me on United Airlines! For $180, they lost my business forever. And some day, when I'm on the Tonight Show, I'm going to tell my story to a national audience! Its amazing how cheap bad publicity is!
Vitriol
vit·ri·ol Pronunciation (vtr-l, -l)
n.
1.
a. See sulfuric acid.
b. Any of various sulfates of metals, such as ferrous sulfate, zinc sulfate, or copper sulfate.
2. Bitterly abusive feeling or expression.
tr.v. vit·ri·oled or vit·ri·olled, vit·ri·ol·ing or vit·ri·ol·ling, vit·ri·ols
To expose or subject to vitriol.
I am reminded of Jesus' teaching, "Those who live by the sword, die by the sword."
My mental well being has been tied up in writing for a very long time. I have never been able to express myself in person 1/10th as well as I've been able to do it in writing. Writing is slow and cautious. It allows one to be expressive, and guarded, diplomatic, and poignant, righteous, and wise. I have used writing not only as an escape from a world that has not always been kind to me, but also as therapy. My long standing journal at home, More Later, has some of my best writing and will hopefully never be seen by the light of day, because in there I feel free to write whatever I feel like, to say things that I would never say, to contemplate things I would never contemplate, without fear of recrimination or retribution (unless I should become President and my journal gets subpoenaed ;) In the very first entry into my journal, where I was explaining its purpose to me, I wrote a little disclaimer which I repeat, more or less, here:
Do not believe a word I write. The thoughts and feelings expressed in this journal represent the thoughts and feelings of me at this particular moment and may or may not include any semblance of reality.
I knew then, as I know now, that sometimes therapy requires you to write things that you would never say in order to get out in the open things that you would never admit to yourself in the light of day - a drawing of poison, so to speak. These things are not meant to be taken as gospel truth, but merely as an expression of what you are thinking at that moment. I come across these vitriolic statements in my journal from past years and I think to myself, "Man, what the heck was going on in my mind back then?"
This is all my way of saying that I am sorry. Yesterday's blog post was vitriol at its worst. It expressed a dark side of me - crazy thoughts, feelings, expressions - that I would most of the time never entertain. Sometimes we think things for a fleeting moment and then throw them into the back of our mind and when we are at our brain addled best, these poisons come spewing forth. Well, that was what happened. All the time I was writing that post yesterday, I had this inner dialogue in my head that kept saying things like, "What the hell are you talking about? You've GOT to be kidding me! Oh, shut up already!" But I think Sue said it best when she said, "For a guy who claims to not care about his weight, you wrote nearly 500 words about not caring!" Yeah. Right. Exactly. It was a classic written mental breakdown.
The fact is, I didn't care. I still don't. (Okay, maybe a little ;) This particular vitriol had nothing really to do with what I was writing about. It was a cumulation of a lot of little things - but the biggest part of that is anxiety and fear about the future. And once again, this is a problem based on writing.
If you know any writers, then you know that we are all just a lot of bit eccentric in the way we see the world - we're bi-polar when it comes to the literary world. Our entire world revolves around the way we see it and write about it. The ability to do this and do this well makes the world seem sunnier, brighter, more fun to live in. The inability to do this makes the world seem cloudier, darker, and a terrible place to dwell. I have had three long periods of writers block in my life. Each one was a pure hell to me. Each one lasted more than a year. During these times my life was a shambles. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't act normal. I sort of just existed until my view of the world would clear enough for me to see the forest through the trees (and write about it). The last time I went into a long drought was right after Karen and I broke up. For most people, breaking up is hard to do. For me, it was utter hell. I honestly don't remember most of the next year and a half - except Andy constantly nagging me about the last chapter of Ultimate II, but that's another story ;)
I've been trying to finish the Novel now for almost a year. It has not been an easy year and everytime I hit a rough patch, I start to get worried that I'm losing my ability to write. The longer that rough patch goes, the more anxiety builds up. At points, it becomes unbearable. I usually end up breaking down in tears and really tearing into myself in my journal. These are not nice passages of sunny prose, but dark thoughts and terrible self doubts.
Clearly, this is what has happened. I offer this not as a means of glossing over what I wrote yesterday, but as a way of explanation. I can't entirely set aside the thoughts posted in that blog - so I won't erase them. I did have those thoughts. But I do not own them. They are merely trash from a cluttered mind spat out in the heat of a panic attack.
And now back to your regularly scheduled programming...
P.S. A big thank you to Sue who did not back off but instead skewered me with the truth. I liked your response - especially numbers 1, 3, 5, and 7. I didn't know you could read my mind ;)
n.
1.
a. See sulfuric acid.
b. Any of various sulfates of metals, such as ferrous sulfate, zinc sulfate, or copper sulfate.
2. Bitterly abusive feeling or expression.
tr.v. vit·ri·oled or vit·ri·olled, vit·ri·ol·ing or vit·ri·ol·ling, vit·ri·ols
To expose or subject to vitriol.
I am reminded of Jesus' teaching, "Those who live by the sword, die by the sword."
My mental well being has been tied up in writing for a very long time. I have never been able to express myself in person 1/10th as well as I've been able to do it in writing. Writing is slow and cautious. It allows one to be expressive, and guarded, diplomatic, and poignant, righteous, and wise. I have used writing not only as an escape from a world that has not always been kind to me, but also as therapy. My long standing journal at home, More Later, has some of my best writing and will hopefully never be seen by the light of day, because in there I feel free to write whatever I feel like, to say things that I would never say, to contemplate things I would never contemplate, without fear of recrimination or retribution (unless I should become President and my journal gets subpoenaed ;) In the very first entry into my journal, where I was explaining its purpose to me, I wrote a little disclaimer which I repeat, more or less, here:
Do not believe a word I write. The thoughts and feelings expressed in this journal represent the thoughts and feelings of me at this particular moment and may or may not include any semblance of reality.
I knew then, as I know now, that sometimes therapy requires you to write things that you would never say in order to get out in the open things that you would never admit to yourself in the light of day - a drawing of poison, so to speak. These things are not meant to be taken as gospel truth, but merely as an expression of what you are thinking at that moment. I come across these vitriolic statements in my journal from past years and I think to myself, "Man, what the heck was going on in my mind back then?"
This is all my way of saying that I am sorry. Yesterday's blog post was vitriol at its worst. It expressed a dark side of me - crazy thoughts, feelings, expressions - that I would most of the time never entertain. Sometimes we think things for a fleeting moment and then throw them into the back of our mind and when we are at our brain addled best, these poisons come spewing forth. Well, that was what happened. All the time I was writing that post yesterday, I had this inner dialogue in my head that kept saying things like, "What the hell are you talking about? You've GOT to be kidding me! Oh, shut up already!" But I think Sue said it best when she said, "For a guy who claims to not care about his weight, you wrote nearly 500 words about not caring!" Yeah. Right. Exactly. It was a classic written mental breakdown.
The fact is, I didn't care. I still don't. (Okay, maybe a little ;) This particular vitriol had nothing really to do with what I was writing about. It was a cumulation of a lot of little things - but the biggest part of that is anxiety and fear about the future. And once again, this is a problem based on writing.
If you know any writers, then you know that we are all just a lot of bit eccentric in the way we see the world - we're bi-polar when it comes to the literary world. Our entire world revolves around the way we see it and write about it. The ability to do this and do this well makes the world seem sunnier, brighter, more fun to live in. The inability to do this makes the world seem cloudier, darker, and a terrible place to dwell. I have had three long periods of writers block in my life. Each one was a pure hell to me. Each one lasted more than a year. During these times my life was a shambles. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't act normal. I sort of just existed until my view of the world would clear enough for me to see the forest through the trees (and write about it). The last time I went into a long drought was right after Karen and I broke up. For most people, breaking up is hard to do. For me, it was utter hell. I honestly don't remember most of the next year and a half - except Andy constantly nagging me about the last chapter of Ultimate II, but that's another story ;)
I've been trying to finish the Novel now for almost a year. It has not been an easy year and everytime I hit a rough patch, I start to get worried that I'm losing my ability to write. The longer that rough patch goes, the more anxiety builds up. At points, it becomes unbearable. I usually end up breaking down in tears and really tearing into myself in my journal. These are not nice passages of sunny prose, but dark thoughts and terrible self doubts.
Clearly, this is what has happened. I offer this not as a means of glossing over what I wrote yesterday, but as a way of explanation. I can't entirely set aside the thoughts posted in that blog - so I won't erase them. I did have those thoughts. But I do not own them. They are merely trash from a cluttered mind spat out in the heat of a panic attack.
And now back to your regularly scheduled programming...
P.S. A big thank you to Sue who did not back off but instead skewered me with the truth. I liked your response - especially numbers 1, 3, 5, and 7. I didn't know you could read my mind ;)
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
The Sin of Eating
When I was a child, I was less than a 90 lb weakling. For most of my first 17 years of existence, I was freakishly thin - so ungainly that I was actually required to take remedial P.E. in grade school in order to learn proper balance (not that I was complaining ;) I was never much of an athlete in grade school. I played soccer and I could run and dart with the best of them. I set scoring records all over the young Viking league, but soccer wasn't a cool sport like kick ball. When I was 7, I discovered that I liked to run and after my very first race (of 7 Miles, no less) I recieved a trophy for youngest runner to complete the race, and I was hooked. From the age of 7 until the age of 17, I ran pretty much every day in some form or another. This, as you might imagine, did not make me any fatter. Being that thin, I was not considered beautiful, or good, or normal, or righteous in any way - I was just considered weak and pathetic.
No matter what I ate I couldn't put on the weight. Really, I stopped caring what other people thought. My metabolism was so fast that if I ate a five course meal, I'd be ready to go running ten minutes later. I remember in Jr. High, where I was one of the five least popular kids in school, we had a pizza day and everyone was supposed to partner with someone. Nobody wanted to partner with me. So, to spite them all, while they were all sharing small pizzas and looking hungry, I ordered a large pizza and ate the whole thing in front of them by myself. I'm sure that only made me look even more like a freak, but, as I said, I didn't care. I ran home after class, ten minutes later.
My diet was tempered by what my family could afford. We were never a live on the streets homeless family, but we weren't much better off. We always seemed to just scrape by with enough money for rent, expenses, and a little left over for food. Which isn't to say that I went hungry... at least not on purpose. There is no amount of hunger that can make Lamb Blocks, Acorn Squash, Lima Bean Surprise, or Googly Bacon taste good. And there are only so many cookies and junk food you can eat to replace the lack of good tasting food. When reading "Call of the Wild" where it describes the affliction of those people who have nearly starved to death, a near maniacal obsession with food, a constant hunger. I never really fell that far, but I can say that for the first few years on my own, I never missed a meal and never missed a chance to eat my fill.
So, what happened? Its the classic story of DNA. My obsession with food and my inability to ever get enough to eat eventually ran into the reality of the genes in my body. Like a carbon copy of my Dad, at the age of 19, my super hot fast running metabolism slowed down. It didn't die out completely at first, but just enough to allow me to start gaining weight. When I graduated from high school, I weighed 140lbs - most of that swimming and cross country muscle. When I left boot camp, I was down around 130 lbs - a lean mean fighting machine. I went off to Intelligence School and in the snow and winter of Virginia Beach, I spent 10 to 12 hour days learning skills for my Navy career, stopping only long enough to eat. I gained 30 lbs in Virginia Beach. In Hawaii, I worked long nights doing my Naval job. I spent my days off playing beach volleyball and racquetball with my friends (Oh, and a little drinking as well ;) But long hours in a building with no windows and the constant fuel needed to stay awake and alert during the Gulf War pushed my weight up another 30 lbs. I was pushing 200 lbs when I left the Navy. No longer lean and mean, but not entirely chubby yet either. I blew out my knee playing volleyball in college. I still managed to play Intramural Basketball, Softball, Football, Baseball, and go scuba diving, hiking, and other activities. I was well on the road to recovery when I blew out my other knee while working for the US Naval Reserves. Things slowed down for me after that. I started hiking in 1998 again and was pretty active with it for years. But then I started the Novel and my weekends turned into descents into a written world. I consciously sacrficed my body for my writing. I gained the last bit of weight I carry during this period. And now I am not just overweight, I am fat.
Fat. Obese. Terrifyingly disgustingly huge. I am a monster, a sinner, and someone who should be mocked and destroyed because of my extra pounds. I am apparently stupid as well. Moronic in my obsession for food. I eat all day, stopping only to sleep, and such things as you can't imagine - whole chickens, five dozen eggs, an entire slab of ribs with lots of extra barbeque sauce, four pound boxes of Sees candies, girl scout cookies up the wazoo, McDonalds for every meal and twice for dinner, late night snacks of Doritos and cokes and nacho cheese by the gallon. I am clearly a sinner and less than human - just take one look at me and you'll know its true.
I can not justify my fatness anymore than I could justify my skinniness before. Some people are just what they are - black, white, green, brown, male, female, gay, straight, tall, short, skinny, or fat; we are what we are because that's the way God made us. I didn't do anything to create my freakish metabolism when I was a kid and I didn't do anything to shut it down either. I have been at both ends of the spectrum now and I can tell you this, my weight is not my obsession. My weight may be your obsession, but your obsessions have nothing to do with me. Where it becomes an issue to me is when it starts to interfere with my love of the outdoors, of sports, and of my life. I was perhaps foolish to let my health go while I wrote the Novel - I will pay for it in the very near future - but that was my choice. Now that I am ready to regain control of my body, I am doing so not out of any sense of being too fat for human kind to accept me, but out of a desire to be active again. There's only so much time a person can spend in front of a computer visiting imaginary worlds with their fingers and a keyboard. However, that being said, and my righteousness aroused beyond reason, I must say that I understand that fair or not, that is the way of the world - and my bitching about it will never change a thing.
It was refreshing to read Sue's comments yesterday because some people are afraid to point out the elephant in the room. She is absolutely right that how you look plays a huge part in how you are perceived in the real world. I don't think this is right and I can wail about the injustice of it all, but it is true. It doesn't matter whether I am kind, or good with children, or smart, or funny, or trustworthy, or rich, or succesful, because all people will see is that I am fat. That is the blunt, honest, truth. And I've known this all my life because before I was fat, I had the exact same qualities as now, but I was too skinny, and THAT was all people saw.
So, I can't control how people will perceive me. I don't even try. I can only control how I perceive myself, and so, as a result, I con no one but me. If I am overweight but don't think of myself as gross, then perhaps the only one who is fooled is me. If I am guilty of the sin of eating, but I don't choose to see it as wrong, then I only ignore what is obvious to everyone else.
I will remain dedicated to getting my body back in shape. I will remain dedicated to hiking again and swimming and doing all the sorts of things that I like to do. But I am not going to set an artificial goal to please people I have never even met because of their arbitrary decision on what looks good. And that is, perhaps, the single biggest reason I will win this bet. If you still think I am wrong, who is conning whom?
P.S. I wouldn't normally blunt my own blog post with an apology, but I'm afraid I must. Its easy to be on a pedastal and write bombastically about justice and fairness and other such lofty goals, but that doesn't necessarily make it right. I am sorry if this posting offends you. I was trying to get you to think from my perspective, but that isn't always an easy thing to do. The part I regret the most about my life is that I used to think as many of you do now. I remember laughing at people who couldn't even touch their toes, when it was SOOOO easy. I have since learned a great deal of humility and am writing this article from a place in the middle of the argument. If I haven't swayed you with my words, or my passion behind them, I am sorry. Please comment and let me know how I am wrong. May God bless you and keep you.
No matter what I ate I couldn't put on the weight. Really, I stopped caring what other people thought. My metabolism was so fast that if I ate a five course meal, I'd be ready to go running ten minutes later. I remember in Jr. High, where I was one of the five least popular kids in school, we had a pizza day and everyone was supposed to partner with someone. Nobody wanted to partner with me. So, to spite them all, while they were all sharing small pizzas and looking hungry, I ordered a large pizza and ate the whole thing in front of them by myself. I'm sure that only made me look even more like a freak, but, as I said, I didn't care. I ran home after class, ten minutes later.
My diet was tempered by what my family could afford. We were never a live on the streets homeless family, but we weren't much better off. We always seemed to just scrape by with enough money for rent, expenses, and a little left over for food. Which isn't to say that I went hungry... at least not on purpose. There is no amount of hunger that can make Lamb Blocks, Acorn Squash, Lima Bean Surprise, or Googly Bacon taste good. And there are only so many cookies and junk food you can eat to replace the lack of good tasting food. When reading "Call of the Wild" where it describes the affliction of those people who have nearly starved to death, a near maniacal obsession with food, a constant hunger. I never really fell that far, but I can say that for the first few years on my own, I never missed a meal and never missed a chance to eat my fill.
So, what happened? Its the classic story of DNA. My obsession with food and my inability to ever get enough to eat eventually ran into the reality of the genes in my body. Like a carbon copy of my Dad, at the age of 19, my super hot fast running metabolism slowed down. It didn't die out completely at first, but just enough to allow me to start gaining weight. When I graduated from high school, I weighed 140lbs - most of that swimming and cross country muscle. When I left boot camp, I was down around 130 lbs - a lean mean fighting machine. I went off to Intelligence School and in the snow and winter of Virginia Beach, I spent 10 to 12 hour days learning skills for my Navy career, stopping only long enough to eat. I gained 30 lbs in Virginia Beach. In Hawaii, I worked long nights doing my Naval job. I spent my days off playing beach volleyball and racquetball with my friends (Oh, and a little drinking as well ;) But long hours in a building with no windows and the constant fuel needed to stay awake and alert during the Gulf War pushed my weight up another 30 lbs. I was pushing 200 lbs when I left the Navy. No longer lean and mean, but not entirely chubby yet either. I blew out my knee playing volleyball in college. I still managed to play Intramural Basketball, Softball, Football, Baseball, and go scuba diving, hiking, and other activities. I was well on the road to recovery when I blew out my other knee while working for the US Naval Reserves. Things slowed down for me after that. I started hiking in 1998 again and was pretty active with it for years. But then I started the Novel and my weekends turned into descents into a written world. I consciously sacrficed my body for my writing. I gained the last bit of weight I carry during this period. And now I am not just overweight, I am fat.
Fat. Obese. Terrifyingly disgustingly huge. I am a monster, a sinner, and someone who should be mocked and destroyed because of my extra pounds. I am apparently stupid as well. Moronic in my obsession for food. I eat all day, stopping only to sleep, and such things as you can't imagine - whole chickens, five dozen eggs, an entire slab of ribs with lots of extra barbeque sauce, four pound boxes of Sees candies, girl scout cookies up the wazoo, McDonalds for every meal and twice for dinner, late night snacks of Doritos and cokes and nacho cheese by the gallon. I am clearly a sinner and less than human - just take one look at me and you'll know its true.
I can not justify my fatness anymore than I could justify my skinniness before. Some people are just what they are - black, white, green, brown, male, female, gay, straight, tall, short, skinny, or fat; we are what we are because that's the way God made us. I didn't do anything to create my freakish metabolism when I was a kid and I didn't do anything to shut it down either. I have been at both ends of the spectrum now and I can tell you this, my weight is not my obsession. My weight may be your obsession, but your obsessions have nothing to do with me. Where it becomes an issue to me is when it starts to interfere with my love of the outdoors, of sports, and of my life. I was perhaps foolish to let my health go while I wrote the Novel - I will pay for it in the very near future - but that was my choice. Now that I am ready to regain control of my body, I am doing so not out of any sense of being too fat for human kind to accept me, but out of a desire to be active again. There's only so much time a person can spend in front of a computer visiting imaginary worlds with their fingers and a keyboard. However, that being said, and my righteousness aroused beyond reason, I must say that I understand that fair or not, that is the way of the world - and my bitching about it will never change a thing.
It was refreshing to read Sue's comments yesterday because some people are afraid to point out the elephant in the room. She is absolutely right that how you look plays a huge part in how you are perceived in the real world. I don't think this is right and I can wail about the injustice of it all, but it is true. It doesn't matter whether I am kind, or good with children, or smart, or funny, or trustworthy, or rich, or succesful, because all people will see is that I am fat. That is the blunt, honest, truth. And I've known this all my life because before I was fat, I had the exact same qualities as now, but I was too skinny, and THAT was all people saw.
So, I can't control how people will perceive me. I don't even try. I can only control how I perceive myself, and so, as a result, I con no one but me. If I am overweight but don't think of myself as gross, then perhaps the only one who is fooled is me. If I am guilty of the sin of eating, but I don't choose to see it as wrong, then I only ignore what is obvious to everyone else.
I will remain dedicated to getting my body back in shape. I will remain dedicated to hiking again and swimming and doing all the sorts of things that I like to do. But I am not going to set an artificial goal to please people I have never even met because of their arbitrary decision on what looks good. And that is, perhaps, the single biggest reason I will win this bet. If you still think I am wrong, who is conning whom?
P.S. I wouldn't normally blunt my own blog post with an apology, but I'm afraid I must. Its easy to be on a pedastal and write bombastically about justice and fairness and other such lofty goals, but that doesn't necessarily make it right. I am sorry if this posting offends you. I was trying to get you to think from my perspective, but that isn't always an easy thing to do. The part I regret the most about my life is that I used to think as many of you do now. I remember laughing at people who couldn't even touch their toes, when it was SOOOO easy. I have since learned a great deal of humility and am writing this article from a place in the middle of the argument. If I haven't swayed you with my words, or my passion behind them, I am sorry. Please comment and let me know how I am wrong. May God bless you and keep you.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Yo Ho, Yo Ho, A Dating Life For Me!
I'll dress up, blunder,
smile, and look cute.
Pile on me bloggers, yo ho!
I'll wager some beer that
she won't give a hoot!
Pile on me bloggers, yo ho!
Yo Ho, Yo Ho!
A Dating Life For Me!
I'm sorry if I sound beligerent, but perhaps Dan was right. Maybe I am brave for opening myself up to this well-meaning abuse. I will say two things - first, I am not offended. Its kind of like being in a hitting slump - everyone has a suggestion for how to get out of it. Second, it has gotten me to thinking about my "dating" life. I believe that I need to set the record straight a little here.
To the charge that I am too timid or shy when it comes to women - I have thought this over and deny it completely. I may not find a wide range of women attractive, or I may decide that certain situations will not work even before I begin (too young, too old, not my type, married, etc...), but I've never shied away from at least asking someone out that I was interested in.
To whit: Case 1 involves a rather attractive blond Russian woman that I liked. We used to flirt quite a bit. One day she said something to the effect that if I liked someone I ought to ask them out, so I did. And she gave me a startled look and said, "Oh, I didn't mean me." Case 2 involves another rather attractive woman whom I asked out to a company party. She said yes. We went to the party and when we arrived, she said, "Oh, by the way, I've asked some other guys to be my date too. You don't mind, do you?"
To the charge that I am a clod when it comes to dating - I also deny this charge. I am nothing but a gentleman. I may have hooked up with the wrong women, but I have almost always been on my "A" game when it comes to dating. I have been a shoulder to cry on. I have been a dance partner (actually, that was one of my better dates - but my date still went home with another guy!). I have been a drinking partner. I have even gotten people to play Strip Poker. But the outcome has never changed.
Its not that I need internal change so much as that I need to change the outcome. I feel kind of like the perennial AAA ballplayer - skillful enough to play with the major league guys but constantly passed over for someone with a little more pop in their bat. I am not afraid to step into the batter's box, or take my hacks, or even to lose a game here or there. But after a while, all there is left to do is enjoy the sunshine, have a hot dog and beer, and watch other people play the game.
So, anyway, I have new managers now and new coaches. Perhaps my luck will change. Perhaps I will finally get called up. Perhaps I will finally make it to the bigs! But in the meantime, at worst, I've got a case of beer chilling on ice for me, waiting for me to strike out one last time.
smile, and look cute.
Pile on me bloggers, yo ho!
I'll wager some beer that
she won't give a hoot!
Pile on me bloggers, yo ho!
Yo Ho, Yo Ho!
A Dating Life For Me!
I'm sorry if I sound beligerent, but perhaps Dan was right. Maybe I am brave for opening myself up to this well-meaning abuse. I will say two things - first, I am not offended. Its kind of like being in a hitting slump - everyone has a suggestion for how to get out of it. Second, it has gotten me to thinking about my "dating" life. I believe that I need to set the record straight a little here.
To the charge that I am too timid or shy when it comes to women - I have thought this over and deny it completely. I may not find a wide range of women attractive, or I may decide that certain situations will not work even before I begin (too young, too old, not my type, married, etc...), but I've never shied away from at least asking someone out that I was interested in.
To whit: Case 1 involves a rather attractive blond Russian woman that I liked. We used to flirt quite a bit. One day she said something to the effect that if I liked someone I ought to ask them out, so I did. And she gave me a startled look and said, "Oh, I didn't mean me." Case 2 involves another rather attractive woman whom I asked out to a company party. She said yes. We went to the party and when we arrived, she said, "Oh, by the way, I've asked some other guys to be my date too. You don't mind, do you?"
To the charge that I am a clod when it comes to dating - I also deny this charge. I am nothing but a gentleman. I may have hooked up with the wrong women, but I have almost always been on my "A" game when it comes to dating. I have been a shoulder to cry on. I have been a dance partner (actually, that was one of my better dates - but my date still went home with another guy!). I have been a drinking partner. I have even gotten people to play Strip Poker. But the outcome has never changed.
Its not that I need internal change so much as that I need to change the outcome. I feel kind of like the perennial AAA ballplayer - skillful enough to play with the major league guys but constantly passed over for someone with a little more pop in their bat. I am not afraid to step into the batter's box, or take my hacks, or even to lose a game here or there. But after a while, all there is left to do is enjoy the sunshine, have a hot dog and beer, and watch other people play the game.
So, anyway, I have new managers now and new coaches. Perhaps my luck will change. Perhaps I will finally get called up. Perhaps I will finally make it to the bigs! But in the meantime, at worst, I've got a case of beer chilling on ice for me, waiting for me to strike out one last time.
I've been thinking... and that's never a good thing.
This was going to be my glorious coming out party post. I was going to rededicate my life to God and to the idea of attaining perfection. I was going to announce my new found goal of putting my life in order - of getting into shape, finding my true love, settling down, and becoming the productive God fearing citizen that I know God and the Republican party want me to be. But then I read something that made me change my mind.
Paris Hilton has been pegged to play Mother Theresa.
You know, I didn't even read the article. And I know that Netscape News is often misleading with its headlines. It was the very concept of this headline that drew my attention. I had to look it up. Sure enough, in the Revelations of Christ to St. Wobegone, I found this: WOE 14: 1-4 "And in this day, a woman of no virtue whatsoever will end up acting as a woman of great virtue, thus blurring the lines of virtue for all to see and forever more. And this shall happen so that you know that I am God and that you are not. This is but one sign of the apocalypse to come - before the blooding of the moon and after the throwing of the syringe. And a fat man shall become thin."
There it is in black and white. Paris Hilton, Mother Theresa - a sign of the Apocalypse to come. These are the end times. Prepare yourself for the second coming!
Paris Hilton has been pegged to play Mother Theresa.
You know, I didn't even read the article. And I know that Netscape News is often misleading with its headlines. It was the very concept of this headline that drew my attention. I had to look it up. Sure enough, in the Revelations of Christ to St. Wobegone, I found this: WOE 14: 1-4 "And in this day, a woman of no virtue whatsoever will end up acting as a woman of great virtue, thus blurring the lines of virtue for all to see and forever more. And this shall happen so that you know that I am God and that you are not. This is but one sign of the apocalypse to come - before the blooding of the moon and after the throwing of the syringe. And a fat man shall become thin."
There it is in black and white. Paris Hilton, Mother Theresa - a sign of the Apocalypse to come. These are the end times. Prepare yourself for the second coming!
Monday, April 03, 2006
Will's Love Life, or the Lack Thereof
This weekend Andy and I placed a bet with each other that I have every intention of trying to lose. We were eating breakfast with his kids on Saturday morning after a rain strangled opening day ceremony when the topic of marriage came up (don't ask me how, we're dudes. We hardly share these touchy feely subjects, so we were probably talking about super models or something ;) Andy predicted that I would be married within 2 years and I said, "I'll take that action." A bet was made, though no terms were actually set. This, too, is the way of guys.
I am fairly confident that two years from now I will be no closer to marriage than I am now. I have never understood the whole concept of dating. I understand that there is a scientific name for people who have no interest in sex, one predilection or the other. I don't belong in that category. I am just as interested in sex as the next guy - and for those of you keeping score; with women. But when it comes to dealing with the opposite sex in a romantic fashion, I'm afraid my genes are very recessive in this area.
I discovered romance at a very early age. I like the whole concept of love. I like the idea of being in love. I like the idea of cherishing a partner and wanting to spend the rest of my life with them. I like the idea of not being able to breathe when they walk into a room. I like the idea of suddenly bursting into song at their appearance. I am a romantic. I always have been. But I'm not an outwardly romantic person and when it comes to women, mostly I'm a disaster.
When I was in fifth grade I fancied a girl in my class named Lisa. I went to my Mom for advice and she told me to make a card for her and tell her how I felt (I have never asked her for advice since then... ;) Lisa took the card - didn't say anything - and then showed it to all of her school friends during the rest of the school day. All day long I had to hear their laughter of derision and the looks of contempt.
I didn't even look at girls again until High School. I was just starting to think that perhaps I'd missed out on this whole adolescent hormone phase when I met Erin. I came down with a mad crush on Erin. She was a lot more gentle with me than Lisa had been, but the looks of contempt continued.
Fortunately, right after that, I fell madly in love with Karen, and she fell in love with me. I wouldn't say that that was a normal love affair - but it was a love affair. We stayed a couple for six years, but while I wanted it to become more, she was content with what we had and finally, we had just grown too far apart. One New Year's Eve, she was supposed to come over to my apartment and she never did. I only saw her once more - three months later - when she stopped by my work to explain to me why she had decided not to show up that night.
After Karen, I sort of descended into a deep fog. I was confused about this whole concept of love. And I didn't know what it all meant. I wasn't sure if I was defective. But I was fairly certain that I had had success before, so, I would have success again. There was another girl out there for me. I just had to remain positive and keep looking.
I met Amy a few years later and loved her as a good friend. She helped pull me out of the fog and reminded me that I didn't need a girlfriend to have a life. After that, I went off to college. I dated a girl on the internet. When we met in real life, I got those looks of contempt again. But by that point, I didn't care. All of my other dates since then have been utter disasters - not a one has lasted more than an hour.
So, it must be me, right? I've never understood the whole concept of dating in the first place. When you go watch a basketball game, you see players that have played the game their whole entire lives. They've practiced. They've played. They've gotten to know the game and all the nuances and all of the intricicies of the game. They love the game. Watching a basketball game to me is like watching love in motion. Its teamwork. Its passion. Its scoring. Its ups and downs. Its time outs. Dating, to me, is like the half time show where some unlucky shlob has one shot to make a half court basket for a million dollars, without warm up or practice. You have no idea if he could be the greatest player since Michael Jordan... unless he makes that one shot.
I wish Andy luck on his wager. I really do. The romantic in me likes to be in love. It likes the energy and the entire concept. But the realist in me says that these things are out of my hands. I've never been a masochist and since more times than I can count instead of an intriguing smile I've received a look of contempt, I'd just as soon stay home and watch romance on TV and try to remember what it was like. I don't need the aggravation. But I'm always willing to try. So, good luck Andy. But I think you'll be owing me a case of beer in 728 Days. Sorry. But that was really a sucker's bet.
I am fairly confident that two years from now I will be no closer to marriage than I am now. I have never understood the whole concept of dating. I understand that there is a scientific name for people who have no interest in sex, one predilection or the other. I don't belong in that category. I am just as interested in sex as the next guy - and for those of you keeping score; with women. But when it comes to dealing with the opposite sex in a romantic fashion, I'm afraid my genes are very recessive in this area.
I discovered romance at a very early age. I like the whole concept of love. I like the idea of being in love. I like the idea of cherishing a partner and wanting to spend the rest of my life with them. I like the idea of not being able to breathe when they walk into a room. I like the idea of suddenly bursting into song at their appearance. I am a romantic. I always have been. But I'm not an outwardly romantic person and when it comes to women, mostly I'm a disaster.
When I was in fifth grade I fancied a girl in my class named Lisa. I went to my Mom for advice and she told me to make a card for her and tell her how I felt (I have never asked her for advice since then... ;) Lisa took the card - didn't say anything - and then showed it to all of her school friends during the rest of the school day. All day long I had to hear their laughter of derision and the looks of contempt.
I didn't even look at girls again until High School. I was just starting to think that perhaps I'd missed out on this whole adolescent hormone phase when I met Erin. I came down with a mad crush on Erin. She was a lot more gentle with me than Lisa had been, but the looks of contempt continued.
Fortunately, right after that, I fell madly in love with Karen, and she fell in love with me. I wouldn't say that that was a normal love affair - but it was a love affair. We stayed a couple for six years, but while I wanted it to become more, she was content with what we had and finally, we had just grown too far apart. One New Year's Eve, she was supposed to come over to my apartment and she never did. I only saw her once more - three months later - when she stopped by my work to explain to me why she had decided not to show up that night.
After Karen, I sort of descended into a deep fog. I was confused about this whole concept of love. And I didn't know what it all meant. I wasn't sure if I was defective. But I was fairly certain that I had had success before, so, I would have success again. There was another girl out there for me. I just had to remain positive and keep looking.
I met Amy a few years later and loved her as a good friend. She helped pull me out of the fog and reminded me that I didn't need a girlfriend to have a life. After that, I went off to college. I dated a girl on the internet. When we met in real life, I got those looks of contempt again. But by that point, I didn't care. All of my other dates since then have been utter disasters - not a one has lasted more than an hour.
So, it must be me, right? I've never understood the whole concept of dating in the first place. When you go watch a basketball game, you see players that have played the game their whole entire lives. They've practiced. They've played. They've gotten to know the game and all the nuances and all of the intricicies of the game. They love the game. Watching a basketball game to me is like watching love in motion. Its teamwork. Its passion. Its scoring. Its ups and downs. Its time outs. Dating, to me, is like the half time show where some unlucky shlob has one shot to make a half court basket for a million dollars, without warm up or practice. You have no idea if he could be the greatest player since Michael Jordan... unless he makes that one shot.
I wish Andy luck on his wager. I really do. The romantic in me likes to be in love. It likes the energy and the entire concept. But the realist in me says that these things are out of my hands. I've never been a masochist and since more times than I can count instead of an intriguing smile I've received a look of contempt, I'd just as soon stay home and watch romance on TV and try to remember what it was like. I don't need the aggravation. But I'm always willing to try. So, good luck Andy. But I think you'll be owing me a case of beer in 728 Days. Sorry. But that was really a sucker's bet.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Friday Category - Let The Bashing Begin
This one was just too good to pass up...
Name Three Things You Wouldn't Be Surprised To Discover About Andy's Past?
Have a good weekend!
Name Three Things You Wouldn't Be Surprised To Discover About Andy's Past?
Have a good weekend!
Thursday, March 30, 2006
The Politics of Me
This is a response to Sue who asked me about my politics yesterday, indirectly, while declaring herself my biggest fan. I am flattered, of course, to have such a fan in my corner, though I am clearly nothing to write home about. I happen to agree with Sue's assessment of me. And I can only guess that she is but the first of many who will see me for the wonderful person I've always known that I am. Or... she is a plant. A fake person in the liking of J.T. LeRoy created by a benevolent government conspiracy to distract me from my hard scrabble mental existence and keep me politically sedated. Either way, keep up the good words. Occasionally its nice to take your ego out for a spin.
Andy has declared me a moderate politically, though I suspect that many people outside California would probably call me a liberal with some conservative tendencies. The fact that I'm from California would be enough to convince them of that assessment as most people in this country think we're all hippies. To that I say, picture Arnold Schwarzenegger with blond hair down to his ass, smoking a bong, and saying, "Peace brother!" Okay... maybe we are all hippies.
In general I believe in a very old school idea of democracy. I believe that our leaders govern by consent of the people and that their primary task is to serve the good of the people - all of the people - all of the time. I don't think they have any right to tell us what to think, how to think, or what to do with our own personal lives except where it interferes with their primary task. I don't believe their judgements about the good of the people should be based on anything other than logic and common sense. As common sense and logic are based very much on a current view of the world, there has to be a flexability to the decision making process that allows for changes to the law and to our opinions. When it comes to leadership, I look for good intelligent people who not only have good ideas, but also have the dynamic will to make those ideas a reality.
That being a general statement, I thought I'd give some quick views on more specific issues. These are all complicated issues and so my answers, as needs be, are very generalized.
The biggest hot button issue is abortion and abortion rights. By the definition of those who set the terms, I guess I would be considered Pro-Choice. But I really hate that term. I am, by nature and by religion, pro-life and I think most people are as well. However, logic and common sense tell me that in the real world, not every child will be welcome by every parent and that it might be far better for that child to never be born at all than to suffer in this world for no reason. I don't know that I could ever make that decision. But, being a male, its not my decision to make - not for myself or for anyone else. So while I personally think that abortion is wrong, I'm not qualified to make that decision for anyone else. Until we come up with a system whereby every child born will be taken care of and loved all over the world, I don't think we can force women to have children they don't want.
During Gulf War I, when I was in the Navy, a big issue that came up was Flag Burning. As a veteran and a lover of America, I find the idea of Flag Burning abhorrent - a real slap in the face - and I question the loyalty and honor of any American that burns one. However, my job as a soldier and as a citizen is to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States of America - a constitution that honors the rights of its citizens to freedom of speech and expression. If we truly honor this document then we have to let people burn American flags. We just don't have to like it.
My people came to this country in the early 1800's and came west during the Gold Rush. They are immigrants and I suspect they came here legally, but I can't confirm that. Every generation has had to deal with immigration issues. Really, there are two sides of the problem - Prevention and Support. How do we keep unwanted people out? And what do we do with the illegal immigrants that are already here? Any comprehensive plan needs to address these problems separately. What we don't want to do is create a large underground sub-class of Americans who are hungry, desperate, uneducated, and unknown. That is the quickest path to instability that I know.
When I went to school, they talked of America as being one big melting pot. Apparently that tread on the toes of those people who wanted to embrace their unique cultures. Instead of one nation, under God, we've become one nation of white Americans, one nation of African Americans, one nation of Asian Americans (see sub-classes of Chinese, Japanese, Filipino, etc...) and so on. This nation is never going to go forward until it learns to come together as one. We need to stop being separate Americans and just be Americans. Its time for Affirmative Action to die.
I signed the petition to allow for Medicinal Pot. I wasn't going to at first because I told the petition guy that allowing people free access to marijuana would throw open the flood gates. His response was a classic example of common sense. He said, "If you haven't tried marijuana now, what makes you think you'd try it when it was legal?" Indeed, it has been legal in California, at least, for the past four or five years and there hasn't been a mad rush of people trying to cheat the system to get Pot. Alcohol causes much greater numbers of deaths and accidents, but it hasn't been criminalized in 75 years. Its time we changed our drug policy.
I am a great believer in a proposal made by Robert Heinlein in Starship Troopers - that no one receive the Franchise unless they first do work for their government. In Switzerland, Russia, Israel, and many other places around the world, military service is compulsory. I'm not for that - but I think that should be an option. I think all people should work for the government in one capacity or another for a minimum of one year. It should not be mandatory. But it should be a requirement before receiving the right to vote. When people earn their right to vote, I think they'll take their responsibility much greater.
Many people know my views on the War in Iraq, but I'll take this moment to explain them. This is not a just war. Saddam Hussein is a right bastard - no doubt about it - but he's certainly not the only one (so there goes that justification). The people of Iraq were certainly oppressed, but they're not the only ones either (so there goes that justification). Iraq supported terrorists, but they're not the only ones (so there goes that justification). Iraq may have had weapons of mass destruction, but they're not the only ones (so there goes that justification). And to tick off a few more, they were not a threat to the United States, there was no evidence that they had anything to do with Al Queda or the Taliban or the attacks on 9/11, and they had been cooperating (somewhat) with the United Nations. So, what, exactly, was our justification for going to war? I can't tell you because it keeps changing. It keeps changing because there was never any firm justification in the first place. We went to war with Iraq, quite frankly, because that's what Bush wanted to do from before he was elected. He not only proposed it, he made it a part of his platform when running for office. If elected, He was going to solve the Iraq problem. Well, short sided thinking has caused us to be in the mess that we're in now. Do you think Bush cares? No. Its not his children that are dying over there. I had no problem with the first Gulf War, or really, for any other war the US has ever fought because the reasons were clear for fighting them - whether you agreed with them or not. This war never had a good reason and so we are killing and being killed for no good reason. We are the agressors. We are in the wrong. And that is not a place the people of America should ever be.
This sort of brings me to the next subject, what I think of the current government. I think you all know how I feel about the Weenie in Chief. I won't be getting any Christmas Cards from him anytime soon. But I am not an anarchist, nor do I for once believe that impeaching him would solve any problems. The problems are not with one regime or another being in charge. The problems are with the whole government. Nobody is leading. Everyone is off doing their own little thing. Everyone is reacting. Nobody is in charge. This is clearly evident in Katrina where we had three days of blame before we had one day of relief. If our current government was running NASA when the Apollo 13 problems occurred, those astronauts would still be up there waiting for a fact finding grand jury to be convened to assess what went wrong and who is to blame. Whatever happened to the days when politicians spent more time talking about the issues than about each other? When Phil Angelides political ad begins with, "He fought Governor Schwarzenegger harder than any other politician..." but what the hell did he do for us? Did he fix the levy's? Did he fund the schools? Did he get the roads fixed? Did he actually DO anything? I'm a Democrat by enrollment, but I'm actually pissed off at both sides on just about every issue - not because of the stands the politicians take, but because neither side is willing to do anything about those stands. Its rather depressing.
Recently, the Presbyterian Church gathered conservative and liberal leaders together and told them to come together to discern the will of God on several hot button divisive issues within the church. These people that they threw together were some of the most vocal leaders on either side of the debate. After a year and a half, they finally released their report. And the gist of that report, "It doesn't matter what we think, its God's will that must be done and our discernment of God's will that matters the most - and how can we tell you what God's will is, you must discern that for yourself." Naturally, nobody really liked that answer. But the truth of the matter is, its a completely logical and common sense answer to the tough questions that we face. Our politics, like our religion, are personal and important to us. They are based on our upbringing, background, and our experiences in life. To tell someone else what they must do or think because you say that is what is right is not what this country is all about. The essence of a democracy is that everyone must be allowed their say in the debate in order to discern the will of the governed.
I hope that gives everyone some sort of glimpse into my mind. I didn't do this as a soapbox excercise, but just as an affirmation of what I believe and the way my mind works. I am open to discussion about any of these topics, but please, no arguments. We can all agree to disagree. That's why this country is the greatest on Earth.
Andy has declared me a moderate politically, though I suspect that many people outside California would probably call me a liberal with some conservative tendencies. The fact that I'm from California would be enough to convince them of that assessment as most people in this country think we're all hippies. To that I say, picture Arnold Schwarzenegger with blond hair down to his ass, smoking a bong, and saying, "Peace brother!" Okay... maybe we are all hippies.
In general I believe in a very old school idea of democracy. I believe that our leaders govern by consent of the people and that their primary task is to serve the good of the people - all of the people - all of the time. I don't think they have any right to tell us what to think, how to think, or what to do with our own personal lives except where it interferes with their primary task. I don't believe their judgements about the good of the people should be based on anything other than logic and common sense. As common sense and logic are based very much on a current view of the world, there has to be a flexability to the decision making process that allows for changes to the law and to our opinions. When it comes to leadership, I look for good intelligent people who not only have good ideas, but also have the dynamic will to make those ideas a reality.
That being a general statement, I thought I'd give some quick views on more specific issues. These are all complicated issues and so my answers, as needs be, are very generalized.
The biggest hot button issue is abortion and abortion rights. By the definition of those who set the terms, I guess I would be considered Pro-Choice. But I really hate that term. I am, by nature and by religion, pro-life and I think most people are as well. However, logic and common sense tell me that in the real world, not every child will be welcome by every parent and that it might be far better for that child to never be born at all than to suffer in this world for no reason. I don't know that I could ever make that decision. But, being a male, its not my decision to make - not for myself or for anyone else. So while I personally think that abortion is wrong, I'm not qualified to make that decision for anyone else. Until we come up with a system whereby every child born will be taken care of and loved all over the world, I don't think we can force women to have children they don't want.
During Gulf War I, when I was in the Navy, a big issue that came up was Flag Burning. As a veteran and a lover of America, I find the idea of Flag Burning abhorrent - a real slap in the face - and I question the loyalty and honor of any American that burns one. However, my job as a soldier and as a citizen is to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States of America - a constitution that honors the rights of its citizens to freedom of speech and expression. If we truly honor this document then we have to let people burn American flags. We just don't have to like it.
My people came to this country in the early 1800's and came west during the Gold Rush. They are immigrants and I suspect they came here legally, but I can't confirm that. Every generation has had to deal with immigration issues. Really, there are two sides of the problem - Prevention and Support. How do we keep unwanted people out? And what do we do with the illegal immigrants that are already here? Any comprehensive plan needs to address these problems separately. What we don't want to do is create a large underground sub-class of Americans who are hungry, desperate, uneducated, and unknown. That is the quickest path to instability that I know.
When I went to school, they talked of America as being one big melting pot. Apparently that tread on the toes of those people who wanted to embrace their unique cultures. Instead of one nation, under God, we've become one nation of white Americans, one nation of African Americans, one nation of Asian Americans (see sub-classes of Chinese, Japanese, Filipino, etc...) and so on. This nation is never going to go forward until it learns to come together as one. We need to stop being separate Americans and just be Americans. Its time for Affirmative Action to die.
I signed the petition to allow for Medicinal Pot. I wasn't going to at first because I told the petition guy that allowing people free access to marijuana would throw open the flood gates. His response was a classic example of common sense. He said, "If you haven't tried marijuana now, what makes you think you'd try it when it was legal?" Indeed, it has been legal in California, at least, for the past four or five years and there hasn't been a mad rush of people trying to cheat the system to get Pot. Alcohol causes much greater numbers of deaths and accidents, but it hasn't been criminalized in 75 years. Its time we changed our drug policy.
I am a great believer in a proposal made by Robert Heinlein in Starship Troopers - that no one receive the Franchise unless they first do work for their government. In Switzerland, Russia, Israel, and many other places around the world, military service is compulsory. I'm not for that - but I think that should be an option. I think all people should work for the government in one capacity or another for a minimum of one year. It should not be mandatory. But it should be a requirement before receiving the right to vote. When people earn their right to vote, I think they'll take their responsibility much greater.
Many people know my views on the War in Iraq, but I'll take this moment to explain them. This is not a just war. Saddam Hussein is a right bastard - no doubt about it - but he's certainly not the only one (so there goes that justification). The people of Iraq were certainly oppressed, but they're not the only ones either (so there goes that justification). Iraq supported terrorists, but they're not the only ones (so there goes that justification). Iraq may have had weapons of mass destruction, but they're not the only ones (so there goes that justification). And to tick off a few more, they were not a threat to the United States, there was no evidence that they had anything to do with Al Queda or the Taliban or the attacks on 9/11, and they had been cooperating (somewhat) with the United Nations. So, what, exactly, was our justification for going to war? I can't tell you because it keeps changing. It keeps changing because there was never any firm justification in the first place. We went to war with Iraq, quite frankly, because that's what Bush wanted to do from before he was elected. He not only proposed it, he made it a part of his platform when running for office. If elected, He was going to solve the Iraq problem. Well, short sided thinking has caused us to be in the mess that we're in now. Do you think Bush cares? No. Its not his children that are dying over there. I had no problem with the first Gulf War, or really, for any other war the US has ever fought because the reasons were clear for fighting them - whether you agreed with them or not. This war never had a good reason and so we are killing and being killed for no good reason. We are the agressors. We are in the wrong. And that is not a place the people of America should ever be.
This sort of brings me to the next subject, what I think of the current government. I think you all know how I feel about the Weenie in Chief. I won't be getting any Christmas Cards from him anytime soon. But I am not an anarchist, nor do I for once believe that impeaching him would solve any problems. The problems are not with one regime or another being in charge. The problems are with the whole government. Nobody is leading. Everyone is off doing their own little thing. Everyone is reacting. Nobody is in charge. This is clearly evident in Katrina where we had three days of blame before we had one day of relief. If our current government was running NASA when the Apollo 13 problems occurred, those astronauts would still be up there waiting for a fact finding grand jury to be convened to assess what went wrong and who is to blame. Whatever happened to the days when politicians spent more time talking about the issues than about each other? When Phil Angelides political ad begins with, "He fought Governor Schwarzenegger harder than any other politician..." but what the hell did he do for us? Did he fix the levy's? Did he fund the schools? Did he get the roads fixed? Did he actually DO anything? I'm a Democrat by enrollment, but I'm actually pissed off at both sides on just about every issue - not because of the stands the politicians take, but because neither side is willing to do anything about those stands. Its rather depressing.
Recently, the Presbyterian Church gathered conservative and liberal leaders together and told them to come together to discern the will of God on several hot button divisive issues within the church. These people that they threw together were some of the most vocal leaders on either side of the debate. After a year and a half, they finally released their report. And the gist of that report, "It doesn't matter what we think, its God's will that must be done and our discernment of God's will that matters the most - and how can we tell you what God's will is, you must discern that for yourself." Naturally, nobody really liked that answer. But the truth of the matter is, its a completely logical and common sense answer to the tough questions that we face. Our politics, like our religion, are personal and important to us. They are based on our upbringing, background, and our experiences in life. To tell someone else what they must do or think because you say that is what is right is not what this country is all about. The essence of a democracy is that everyone must be allowed their say in the debate in order to discern the will of the governed.
I hope that gives everyone some sort of glimpse into my mind. I didn't do this as a soapbox excercise, but just as an affirmation of what I believe and the way my mind works. I am open to discussion about any of these topics, but please, no arguments. We can all agree to disagree. That's why this country is the greatest on Earth.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
The Glass is 3/4ths Empty
You'd think that by now someone would have invented a cure for mass stupidity. But apparently the lowest common denominator still rules this country and as a result, this nation is quickly sliding backwards into an abyss where Mad Magazine is intellectual reading.
I kid you not.
Last night, on not one, not two, but three local news stations, I heard the following comments, "Tonight, there will be a full solar eclipse. You won't be able to see it..." Now, last I checked, it actually needs to be daylight to witness a solar eclipse - seeing as how the SUN is a participant in said eclipse. Being the middle of the night here in the United States, seeing a solar eclipse would be a problem. I'm curious, though, how many people went immediately to their windows to see if they could view the thing in the sky?
Now, I like to think - recent proclamations not withstanding - that people in Northern California are intelligent. We watch PBS more often than people in Idaho, for instance. We have opera and ballet and some wierd fantasy animal dress up festival every year. We created computers and martini's and the UN. We have been the home of countless great American authors and playwrights. So, when exactly did we devolve to the point where we need to be reminded that you can't see a solar eclipse at night?
It must be all the legal aliens that have moved into Northern California in the last couple of years - New Yorkers and Los Angelenos and other people of questionable mental standing. I'm all for building a wall to keep them out, even if it means that I have to act rudely to perfect strangers, drive crazily on the freeway, or call it Frisco myself. Personally, I think any non Northern Californian who moves to this area ought to be thrown in jail along with anyone who helps them move here. Our property values may be going through the roof, but our intellectual values are dropping like a stone.
I kid you not.
Last night, on not one, not two, but three local news stations, I heard the following comments, "Tonight, there will be a full solar eclipse. You won't be able to see it..." Now, last I checked, it actually needs to be daylight to witness a solar eclipse - seeing as how the SUN is a participant in said eclipse. Being the middle of the night here in the United States, seeing a solar eclipse would be a problem. I'm curious, though, how many people went immediately to their windows to see if they could view the thing in the sky?
Now, I like to think - recent proclamations not withstanding - that people in Northern California are intelligent. We watch PBS more often than people in Idaho, for instance. We have opera and ballet and some wierd fantasy animal dress up festival every year. We created computers and martini's and the UN. We have been the home of countless great American authors and playwrights. So, when exactly did we devolve to the point where we need to be reminded that you can't see a solar eclipse at night?
It must be all the legal aliens that have moved into Northern California in the last couple of years - New Yorkers and Los Angelenos and other people of questionable mental standing. I'm all for building a wall to keep them out, even if it means that I have to act rudely to perfect strangers, drive crazily on the freeway, or call it Frisco myself. Personally, I think any non Northern Californian who moves to this area ought to be thrown in jail along with anyone who helps them move here. Our property values may be going through the roof, but our intellectual values are dropping like a stone.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Your help required...
I am prepping one of several new stories now that the end is in sight for my novel. This one particular story that I'm preparing is so delicious to me (i.e. the story may not be any good, but the preparation is a lot of fun!) that I can't wait to share it with you all. I'll probably serialize it on my website come September. However, in the meantime, I need your help.
Without going into a lot of detail, the basic premise of the story is that its about a paradise lost - a human created community that is as near to perfect as possible. What I'd like from each of you are some ideas about what you think would be a characteristic of a perfect community.
Clearly, I think a perfect community would be a city wherein everyone had a place and a purpose and that everyone was happy in that place and in that purpose. We idolize simple existences like Mayberry precisely because of this point. Not everyone there was a perfect person. Otis was often in the drunk tank. But everyone had their place and was not penalized for that place. There were no haves and havenots. Everyone was a have. Everyone looked after everyone else. Such a community would by necessity be equal.
So, help me out. Let me know what you think and what you'd add to our list of perfect community requirements. Don't be afraid to be silly... as this is one of those types of stories. And no San Dimas quotes from Bill and Ted either. We already know that the bowling scores would be up and the miniature golf scores would be down ;)
Looking forward to hearing from you.
Without going into a lot of detail, the basic premise of the story is that its about a paradise lost - a human created community that is as near to perfect as possible. What I'd like from each of you are some ideas about what you think would be a characteristic of a perfect community.
Clearly, I think a perfect community would be a city wherein everyone had a place and a purpose and that everyone was happy in that place and in that purpose. We idolize simple existences like Mayberry precisely because of this point. Not everyone there was a perfect person. Otis was often in the drunk tank. But everyone had their place and was not penalized for that place. There were no haves and havenots. Everyone was a have. Everyone looked after everyone else. Such a community would by necessity be equal.
So, help me out. Let me know what you think and what you'd add to our list of perfect community requirements. Don't be afraid to be silly... as this is one of those types of stories. And no San Dimas quotes from Bill and Ted either. We already know that the bowling scores would be up and the miniature golf scores would be down ;)
Looking forward to hearing from you.
Monday, March 27, 2006
My Pinto
We all know a Pinto. Someone who has taken forever to get their driver's license. My sister is my Pinto. But that has changed now and I shall have to pick on someone else.
Not only did my sister finally pass the driving test today and qualify to legally run people onto the sidewalk, but she did so with a perfect 100% score. I know of no one who passed the driving test with a 100%. Hell, I passed with a 71%... and I had to apologize to those nuns for years afterwards. So my sister is perfect.
When she first took the test, way back when, she promptly pulled out of the DMV driveway into ongoing traffic the wrong way. Instant failure. Once, when I was giving her a driving lesson, she zipped through an intersection without looking and nearly hit a car. And when I tried to explain to her what happened, she was so intent on telling me that I was wrong that she nearly hit someone at the next intersection as well.
For my sister it has been a long struggle. Though I know she has not really needed to have a driver's license before, I think with two kids she was finally starting to see the need for one. Constant nagging from her family didn't do anything for her... it was the younger set that drove her to the DMV. If her son could learn to swim, she could learn to drive. So, once more into the breach...
I knew she was ready to pass the last time I went someplace with her. She was driving her car (with my Mom) and I was driving my car. She followed me to the Costco and I didn't bat an eye once at her driving ability. I knew then that she had finally overcome her confidence problems and her inability to see cars in intersections and that she was ready to take the test.
So, to my Sister, a hearty congratulations. And to the rest of you a warning... if you don't like the way she drives, stay off the sidewalk! ;)
Not only did my sister finally pass the driving test today and qualify to legally run people onto the sidewalk, but she did so with a perfect 100% score. I know of no one who passed the driving test with a 100%. Hell, I passed with a 71%... and I had to apologize to those nuns for years afterwards. So my sister is perfect.
When she first took the test, way back when, she promptly pulled out of the DMV driveway into ongoing traffic the wrong way. Instant failure. Once, when I was giving her a driving lesson, she zipped through an intersection without looking and nearly hit a car. And when I tried to explain to her what happened, she was so intent on telling me that I was wrong that she nearly hit someone at the next intersection as well.
For my sister it has been a long struggle. Though I know she has not really needed to have a driver's license before, I think with two kids she was finally starting to see the need for one. Constant nagging from her family didn't do anything for her... it was the younger set that drove her to the DMV. If her son could learn to swim, she could learn to drive. So, once more into the breach...
I knew she was ready to pass the last time I went someplace with her. She was driving her car (with my Mom) and I was driving my car. She followed me to the Costco and I didn't bat an eye once at her driving ability. I knew then that she had finally overcome her confidence problems and her inability to see cars in intersections and that she was ready to take the test.
So, to my Sister, a hearty congratulations. And to the rest of you a warning... if you don't like the way she drives, stay off the sidewalk! ;)
The Tough Questions
Think you know the Bible? Think you know what its all about? Comfortable with your religion and your country and your life? Then you've probably failed to ask the tough questions.
I often think of that poor guy who thought he knew it all. He was rich, handsome, capable and he was hip. Religiously hip. He heard of this dude in Nazareth who was telling people how to get into Heaven. He decided to go ask this dude how he could get into Heaven - what could it hurt? I mean, even with a tithe of 10% or 20% for that matter, there'd be plenty to go around. Not fearing the answer in the least, the man found this rabbi and asked him what it would take for him to get into Heaven. "Sell all your possessions and follow me. For I tell you, it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to get into Heaven." Whoah! Not exactly the sort of answer he was looking for. I'm sure his response was, "Uh, never mind. Forget I asked."
We learn, don't we? We know better than to ask those questions. We know better because we know that we are not going to like the answers. When it says that we should feed the hungry, house the homeless and visit the sick and those in prison... it doesn't really mean that, does it? I mean, you don't include homeless people in that group? Or the mentally unstable? Right? No, wait... don't answer that. I don't want to know.
I am in the third act of my novel now and I suppose one of the reasons I stopped a few weeks back (aside from the whole wilderness thing) was that I'm at that point where the characters start asking the tough questions. You never know how prepared you are to finish a book until you ask a tough question. Because in fiction, just like in real life, sometimes the answers aren't what you expect. The notes for the scene said that the character asks such and such question and gets such and such answer. No problem, right? Except that when I wrote the question, I realized that the answer wouldn't work. It didn't make sense. And the answer that did make sense took me and my novel into places I wasn't expecting and I was uncomfortable with the implications. I had to stop and rethink the idea of asking the tough questions. Maybe just a few softball questions for a change. Something nice and easy. Does Jesus love me? Yes, Jesus loves me... the Bible tells me so.
Complacency isn't a condition of laziness or low moral character - its a fear of asking the tough questions, because the answers may not be what we expect. We don't want to be moved off our perch. We like the view. If we don't ask the questions about what our country is really doing in Iraq, we don't have to face the potentially troubling answer. If we don't ask whether we weren't somehow partially to blame for 9/11, then we can sit on our moral high horse for a while and complain that we're so abused by the rest of the world. If we don't give a man the opportunity to answer to serious steroid using allegations, we can rest assured that our questions are enough to convict him. We won't ever know what the answers are if we don't ask the questions. And if we don't get the answers, we can not move forward and grow. We can not come right before the world and before God.
Entertainment isn't always about fun and escape. Sometimes, for the sake of drama, we are forced to ask the big questions - regardless of where the answers may lead us.
I often think of that poor guy who thought he knew it all. He was rich, handsome, capable and he was hip. Religiously hip. He heard of this dude in Nazareth who was telling people how to get into Heaven. He decided to go ask this dude how he could get into Heaven - what could it hurt? I mean, even with a tithe of 10% or 20% for that matter, there'd be plenty to go around. Not fearing the answer in the least, the man found this rabbi and asked him what it would take for him to get into Heaven. "Sell all your possessions and follow me. For I tell you, it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to get into Heaven." Whoah! Not exactly the sort of answer he was looking for. I'm sure his response was, "Uh, never mind. Forget I asked."
We learn, don't we? We know better than to ask those questions. We know better because we know that we are not going to like the answers. When it says that we should feed the hungry, house the homeless and visit the sick and those in prison... it doesn't really mean that, does it? I mean, you don't include homeless people in that group? Or the mentally unstable? Right? No, wait... don't answer that. I don't want to know.
I am in the third act of my novel now and I suppose one of the reasons I stopped a few weeks back (aside from the whole wilderness thing) was that I'm at that point where the characters start asking the tough questions. You never know how prepared you are to finish a book until you ask a tough question. Because in fiction, just like in real life, sometimes the answers aren't what you expect. The notes for the scene said that the character asks such and such question and gets such and such answer. No problem, right? Except that when I wrote the question, I realized that the answer wouldn't work. It didn't make sense. And the answer that did make sense took me and my novel into places I wasn't expecting and I was uncomfortable with the implications. I had to stop and rethink the idea of asking the tough questions. Maybe just a few softball questions for a change. Something nice and easy. Does Jesus love me? Yes, Jesus loves me... the Bible tells me so.
Complacency isn't a condition of laziness or low moral character - its a fear of asking the tough questions, because the answers may not be what we expect. We don't want to be moved off our perch. We like the view. If we don't ask the questions about what our country is really doing in Iraq, we don't have to face the potentially troubling answer. If we don't ask whether we weren't somehow partially to blame for 9/11, then we can sit on our moral high horse for a while and complain that we're so abused by the rest of the world. If we don't give a man the opportunity to answer to serious steroid using allegations, we can rest assured that our questions are enough to convict him. We won't ever know what the answers are if we don't ask the questions. And if we don't get the answers, we can not move forward and grow. We can not come right before the world and before God.
Entertainment isn't always about fun and escape. Sometimes, for the sake of drama, we are forced to ask the big questions - regardless of where the answers may lead us.
Friday, March 24, 2006
Visiting The Church of Writing
Sometime this weekend, you'll discover this post. You'll be seated in front of your computer screen, not expecting much of a return, maybe an answer to a comment you left, maybe just a howdy, and wham! bam! there will be a new post. This will naturally floor you. Your jaw will likely drop. Who in their right mind... but the thought will fade as quickly as it explodes in your brain because you know that those words don't apply to the one known as ICON.
Vacation has been gentle. Soft rain caresses my windshield as I drive north to Mendocino. California is a shamrock green. The water flows off the hills like tap water into a hot bath. Gray skies embrace the mountains and the trees. I drive deep into the woods, swerving over roads that would take me days to hike. The ocean beckons me and at last is in my sight. I drive out to the very edge and climb the tower. A lighthouse that no longer serves its function has the best view of the Pacific Ocean. Seagulls and seals and whales and waves sing nearby. I follow the song south along the coast watching the sun edge closer to the surf until I can no longer feel my driving legs, then I skitter up an inlet, follow a river towards its source, and return home across an orange bridge.
Movies, basketball, restaurants - everyday things, mundane reality, that slips into my vacation dream and seek to corrupt it. I don't let it. I maintain the restful demeanor and absorb energy from around me. My internal balance is restoring. I feel the weight of the world shifting to a more comfortable position on my shoulders. There. That's it. I am almost back home.
I visited the Church of Writing two days ago. In words and pictures, I absorbed the Salinas Valley like the soft loam that nurtures a head of lettuce and adds its earthiness to the taste. I still have no idea how the great saint of this church manages to convey his everyday words in such poetry. Here is the true ideal of what I have always wanted to become. I feel intoxicated with the possibility of his prose - the thought that I might be able to write like him one day. This is not the mecca of writing or the vatican or the Jerusalem temple - it is just a church, dedicated to the concept of the written word as a meaning beyond mere conveyance of ideas. Though its principle saint is a local writer of some world renown, he is only a man who points the way to the ideal - that of the perfect story. He has worshipped at this trough. He has venerated its principles. But he never achieved true divinity in this calling. In his example, I hope to allow words to be my praise. But sometimes the plain word is best.
So, on Monday I went to Point Arenas Lighthouse. On Tuesday, I went to see V for Vendetta. On Wednesday, I went to the Steinbeck Center in Salinas. On Thursday, I worked at the NCAA Sweet Sixteen - Oakland Bracket. Today, I went to see Inside Man. Tomorrow, I shall work the Elite Eight. Sunday, I will go to church and bring my vacation to a close - and then back to work again.
I like the prose version better, but you can say a whole lot more in plain English.
Vacation has been gentle. Soft rain caresses my windshield as I drive north to Mendocino. California is a shamrock green. The water flows off the hills like tap water into a hot bath. Gray skies embrace the mountains and the trees. I drive deep into the woods, swerving over roads that would take me days to hike. The ocean beckons me and at last is in my sight. I drive out to the very edge and climb the tower. A lighthouse that no longer serves its function has the best view of the Pacific Ocean. Seagulls and seals and whales and waves sing nearby. I follow the song south along the coast watching the sun edge closer to the surf until I can no longer feel my driving legs, then I skitter up an inlet, follow a river towards its source, and return home across an orange bridge.
Movies, basketball, restaurants - everyday things, mundane reality, that slips into my vacation dream and seek to corrupt it. I don't let it. I maintain the restful demeanor and absorb energy from around me. My internal balance is restoring. I feel the weight of the world shifting to a more comfortable position on my shoulders. There. That's it. I am almost back home.
I visited the Church of Writing two days ago. In words and pictures, I absorbed the Salinas Valley like the soft loam that nurtures a head of lettuce and adds its earthiness to the taste. I still have no idea how the great saint of this church manages to convey his everyday words in such poetry. Here is the true ideal of what I have always wanted to become. I feel intoxicated with the possibility of his prose - the thought that I might be able to write like him one day. This is not the mecca of writing or the vatican or the Jerusalem temple - it is just a church, dedicated to the concept of the written word as a meaning beyond mere conveyance of ideas. Though its principle saint is a local writer of some world renown, he is only a man who points the way to the ideal - that of the perfect story. He has worshipped at this trough. He has venerated its principles. But he never achieved true divinity in this calling. In his example, I hope to allow words to be my praise. But sometimes the plain word is best.
So, on Monday I went to Point Arenas Lighthouse. On Tuesday, I went to see V for Vendetta. On Wednesday, I went to the Steinbeck Center in Salinas. On Thursday, I worked at the NCAA Sweet Sixteen - Oakland Bracket. Today, I went to see Inside Man. Tomorrow, I shall work the Elite Eight. Sunday, I will go to church and bring my vacation to a close - and then back to work again.
I like the prose version better, but you can say a whole lot more in plain English.
Friday, March 17, 2006
Last Category Until April
Okay, I'm doing a combined category for this weekend... think of it as one for each week...
So first up:
Three Worst Names For Ariel's Newborn Son?
and second category:
Three Restaurant Names That Would Make You Never Eat There?
Good luck. See you in a week.
So first up:
Three Worst Names For Ariel's Newborn Son?
and second category:
Three Restaurant Names That Would Make You Never Eat There?
Good luck. See you in a week.
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