Sunday, April 13, 2008
It's a Conspiracy.
Why is it every fashion template for blogger has so much pink? Even the name brand ones like Chanel. It bothers me that pink is the color being associated with style. It places limits. I prefer my life with more colors than just pink and fashion certainly associates with other colors. Some colors are even more popular. There are plenty of people who would rather shades of blue be the theme. It feels like they automatically assume anyone who enjoys fashion must be a consummate girly- girl who adores pink. Personally, I left that particular color with my Barbi corvette, Barbi house,…Barbi. It’s a shame none of the template designers did the same.
Skating Rink: a Nice Feeling
Is there anyone who likes skating. I "discovered" this place in Fort Myers, behind the Chrysler dealer. It was my first time there, and I liked it. I fell twice. Uhmmm, maybe three! Somebody was there to help me! I thought it was amazing they wanted to give a hand. No so many people in the US offered me theirs (hand)! In a way, I thought I was home. It was as if those people could be my friend, as if I knew them already. It was one of the rare times where I didn't feel alone among Americans. It was one of the rare times where I wasn't a ghost, and people didn't tear apart my invisible body.
It was a nice feeling!
It was a nice feeling!
Everywhere A Starbucks
Every morning I go to Starbucks and order coffee. Over the years I have been so conditioned to the taste of their "special" brew that I can now chug it down in the morning without snarling. For someone who doesn't particularly love the taste of their coffee, I drink it like a fool. And I do so because it is so damn convenient.
Starbucks are everywhere, and I hate to say it but frequenting them can be quite the experience. You order a drink, it takes too long, and before your blood pressure can even start to rise, someone hands you a cardboard placard for a free drink-which is the equivalent of them saying: "We know you are a big baby, don't cry. Just take this coupon and bring it back here tomorrow morning."
Even the music they sell enrages me because for the most part I cannot find any fault with it. Who can argue with old Stax compilations, Sinatra and Sam Cooke?
I bring all this up because there is a new independently owned cafe in town called Bennett’s Fresh Roast. They roast their beans every morning and hand make their very own doughnuts, special touches that only an independently owned coffee joint can give.
Sigh. But I just don't care anymore. I have seen the future that has tamed the great white whale of commercialism and it is good.
Wishing for a World of Typos
A typographical error or typo is a mistake made during, originally, the manual type-setting (typography) of printed material, or more recently, the typing process. The term includes errors due to mechanical failure or slips of the hand or finger, but excludes errors of ignorance.Too often, however, ignorance plays a huge part, turning what might have been euphemized as a slip of the finger into a glaring stylistic, orthographical, or grammatical error. We are all guilty of such faux pas (and aren't getting paid enough to take the time to publish our own corrigenda), but at least we can try to cut down on the really obvious flaws that make us look bad. Here are some that really bother me, with the incorrect usage listed first:
"suppose to do something" rather than "supposed to do something"
"heighth and width" rather than "height and width"
"supposably" rather than "supposedly"
"Valentimes Day" rather than...if you don't know this one, you are an idiot.
"alot" rather than "a lot"
"carmel" rather than "caramel"
"irregardless" rather than "regardless"
"flustrated" rather than "frustrated"
Please add more!!!
American Idols
STOP climate change. END human trafficking. ELIMINATE Genocide. STAMP OUT world hunger. With your help, we can MAKE A DIFFERENCE.
Such commands and do-good drivel are routinely doled out in droves on popular television and college campuses alike, begging for almost godly aid in futile human battles. Can any one person ensure world peace? Any dollar? Any god? Of course not, but such programs as "Idol Gives Back" would have us think otherwise, placing such burdens upon the American demigod who is overjoyed to hear the news: "I can end world hunger!"
The concept of international charity is more selfish than its name implies; it satisfies the imperialist need to feel intransigently powerful. We see the starving black subaltern through American airwaves, and, although we may cry, we extract a strange euphoria from the fact that we can feed him for a week with just 75 cents. This is true power.
But while we sit around munching our KFC chicken wings and feeling good about ourselves, our well-intended pocket change perpetuates the problem. It spawns a society dependent upon parachuting breadbaskets. It makes the impoverished townsfolk more vulnerable to depredations. I can still remember a disillusioned George Clooney describing how charity recipients in Darfur had become new targets of exploitation.
Programs like "Idol Gives Back" don't give the poor a voice, they just give us a louder one - an excuse to party harder and revel in our apotheosis. Ironically, this is why we are "giving back." We rely upon the collective suffering of the subaltern for our own idolic decadence. So thanks a lot, you massive heart of darkness. Here's a few bucks to get you through the month. Your idols will see you again next year.
Idol: a. an image used as an object of worship
b. a false god
Such commands and do-good drivel are routinely doled out in droves on popular television and college campuses alike, begging for almost godly aid in futile human battles. Can any one person ensure world peace? Any dollar? Any god? Of course not, but such programs as "Idol Gives Back" would have us think otherwise, placing such burdens upon the American demigod who is overjoyed to hear the news: "I can end world hunger!"
The concept of international charity is more selfish than its name implies; it satisfies the imperialist need to feel intransigently powerful. We see the starving black subaltern through American airwaves, and, although we may cry, we extract a strange euphoria from the fact that we can feed him for a week with just 75 cents. This is true power.
But while we sit around munching our KFC chicken wings and feeling good about ourselves, our well-intended pocket change perpetuates the problem. It spawns a society dependent upon parachuting breadbaskets. It makes the impoverished townsfolk more vulnerable to depredations. I can still remember a disillusioned George Clooney describing how charity recipients in Darfur had become new targets of exploitation.
Programs like "Idol Gives Back" don't give the poor a voice, they just give us a louder one - an excuse to party harder and revel in our apotheosis. Ironically, this is why we are "giving back." We rely upon the collective suffering of the subaltern for our own idolic decadence. So thanks a lot, you massive heart of darkness. Here's a few bucks to get you through the month. Your idols will see you again next year.
Idol: a. an image used as an object of worship
b. a false god
Forward-Thinking Americans
The Letter from Birmingham Jail, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote:
"Frankly I have never yet engaged in a direct action movement that was "well timed," according to the timetable of those who have not suffered unduly. For years now I have heard the word "Wait!" It rings in the ear of every Negro with a piercing familiarity. This "wait" has almost always meant "never." We must come to see with the distinguished jurist of yesterday that "justice too long delayed is justice denied."
In 1963, these words and the accompanying actions by thousands of civil rights pioneers made our nation hopeful in some quarters, uncomfortable in others, and downright scared in others. Everyday folks of all races wondered where these protests would lead.
Today, in a time in which major presidential contenders are representative of different races, genders, and backgrounds, we certainly see progress from the time of Dr. King's letters. Such progress can make us comfortable, and if we aren't careful, that level of comfort with the status quo can hide injustice and unfairness in our midst. It can stifle a sense of urgency on the part of forward-thinking Americans.
I can only hope we avoid a comfort level that makes us forget we are all equal and that our actions can either promote or hinder fairness toward others. When we learn to give, as they have done so generously, I hope it is with an open mind about the experiences and priorities of others, especially those of other races and cultures.
One has to understand history to understand King's sense of urgency in 1963. However, one needs only to open eyes widely in our own community to understand that there is still a need for the justice and action that King called for.
"Frankly I have never yet engaged in a direct action movement that was "well timed," according to the timetable of those who have not suffered unduly. For years now I have heard the word "Wait!" It rings in the ear of every Negro with a piercing familiarity. This "wait" has almost always meant "never." We must come to see with the distinguished jurist of yesterday that "justice too long delayed is justice denied."
In 1963, these words and the accompanying actions by thousands of civil rights pioneers made our nation hopeful in some quarters, uncomfortable in others, and downright scared in others. Everyday folks of all races wondered where these protests would lead.
Today, in a time in which major presidential contenders are representative of different races, genders, and backgrounds, we certainly see progress from the time of Dr. King's letters. Such progress can make us comfortable, and if we aren't careful, that level of comfort with the status quo can hide injustice and unfairness in our midst. It can stifle a sense of urgency on the part of forward-thinking Americans.
I can only hope we avoid a comfort level that makes us forget we are all equal and that our actions can either promote or hinder fairness toward others. When we learn to give, as they have done so generously, I hope it is with an open mind about the experiences and priorities of others, especially those of other races and cultures.
One has to understand history to understand King's sense of urgency in 1963. However, one needs only to open eyes widely in our own community to understand that there is still a need for the justice and action that King called for.
Is Peace Idealistic?
I do believe that peace is an idea at this point in our world. I'm by far a negative person, but I do however undertand the reality of our world. We all have different views, but my view is that pride and greed are the number one cause that peace is inevitable. The only peace that we have is the one that come from within ourselves. I have always wondered, why people do mean and hateful things to each other? And I have came to the realization that people are who they are... human, and with hope we will find our way to be above all this foolish pride and greed. I believe also, that with peace comes acceptance, if we learn to accept one another for who we are, whether it good or bad, we could eventually learn from one another.
We are only human, so is pride, greed, and judgement our natural behavior and will always have an impact on this world? We strive to live and learn from our actions, and will continue to until the day we no longer think as humans and go into a more spiritual realm. This is when the fighting stops and we all become one. There is so much we still need to learn and only few have mastered it. Jesus for example, was one in history that mastered what we call peace. People couldn't understand it and what people don't understand gives them fear, so in essence fear is why they wanted him crucified. I can only hope that one day generation after generation, we will learn from our past and use it to reflect and better our futures.
We are only human, so is pride, greed, and judgement our natural behavior and will always have an impact on this world? We strive to live and learn from our actions, and will continue to until the day we no longer think as humans and go into a more spiritual realm. This is when the fighting stops and we all become one. There is so much we still need to learn and only few have mastered it. Jesus for example, was one in history that mastered what we call peace. People couldn't understand it and what people don't understand gives them fear, so in essence fear is why they wanted him crucified. I can only hope that one day generation after generation, we will learn from our past and use it to reflect and better our futures.
So close yet so far
If one more graduating senior comes to my office or calls my phone with the words “I didn’t know there was a deadline” for turning in service hours I can’t promise to be responsible for my responses any longer. If I were queen of the world I’d shout out “off with their heads” and go about my merry way.
The deadline for turning in paperwork was March 31st as posted on the FGCU website had students bothered to look. The excuses given have run the gamut of “I forgot to turn in my paperwork” to “I didn’t know we were suppose to turn in forms”. One young man offered me $300 to put his hours in without the accompanying paperwork (turned him down as my 401K is worth considerably more than a measly $300 and possible jail time for falsifying records). One young lady had her mother call me to find out if she should spend the money to come to her daughter’s gradation if her service requirement isn’t met. Geezy Peezy!
If you are graduating in a few weeks and your service hours are in then congratulations and have a good life. If you are graduating and your paperwork for service learning isn’t in by now, let’s just say you’ll be walking in the ceremony but don’t be too surprised when your degree doesn’t get certified for Spring 08. Certifying degrees is handled by the Registrar’s office. Once they start checking graduation requirements, if all of yours aren’t met you will not be a graduate of FGCU. Never fear though, you can always apply for Summer graduation.
The deadline for turning in paperwork was March 31st as posted on the FGCU website had students bothered to look. The excuses given have run the gamut of “I forgot to turn in my paperwork” to “I didn’t know we were suppose to turn in forms”. One young man offered me $300 to put his hours in without the accompanying paperwork (turned him down as my 401K is worth considerably more than a measly $300 and possible jail time for falsifying records). One young lady had her mother call me to find out if she should spend the money to come to her daughter’s gradation if her service requirement isn’t met. Geezy Peezy!
If you are graduating in a few weeks and your service hours are in then congratulations and have a good life. If you are graduating and your paperwork for service learning isn’t in by now, let’s just say you’ll be walking in the ceremony but don’t be too surprised when your degree doesn’t get certified for Spring 08. Certifying degrees is handled by the Registrar’s office. Once they start checking graduation requirements, if all of yours aren’t met you will not be a graduate of FGCU. Never fear though, you can always apply for Summer graduation.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Deadly Strain
Prior to becoming an English major, Biology was my forte. Given my extensive research in microbiology, I feel confident in asserting that I have nailed down a virulent strain that has been plaguing college campuses nationwide since the dawn of time. Put on your mask. No, not the little green one with the nifty strings that tie around your ears. I’m talking the level four containment mask.
Procrastitis bacillus is a deadly gram negative rod striking everyone from lowly freshman to on-the-verge-of-graduating seniors. It enters through the mouth, generally accompanying hops or barley over spring break. By the time school has returned to normal it has lodged itself deep in the central nervous system.
Incubation period is approximately 5-10 days. Initially, after returning from break individuals will pursue studies with considerable vigor. During this period P. bacillus is rapidly multiplying, infiltrating the cerebrum, ears, eyes, hands, and feet.
When the viral load has reached approximately one million P. bacillus individuals, symptoms will become manifest:
-First, pupil will find their hands incapable of writing notes or typing papers
-Then, pupil’s brain will no longer be able to process information being taken in through pupil’s viral laden eyes and ears
-Finally, pupil’s feet will refuse to take pupil to class
Penicillin is ineffective.
There is no known cure.
Procrastitis bacillus is a deadly gram negative rod striking everyone from lowly freshman to on-the-verge-of-graduating seniors. It enters through the mouth, generally accompanying hops or barley over spring break. By the time school has returned to normal it has lodged itself deep in the central nervous system.
Incubation period is approximately 5-10 days. Initially, after returning from break individuals will pursue studies with considerable vigor. During this period P. bacillus is rapidly multiplying, infiltrating the cerebrum, ears, eyes, hands, and feet.
When the viral load has reached approximately one million P. bacillus individuals, symptoms will become manifest:
-First, pupil will find their hands incapable of writing notes or typing papers
-Then, pupil’s brain will no longer be able to process information being taken in through pupil’s viral laden eyes and ears
-Finally, pupil’s feet will refuse to take pupil to class
Penicillin is ineffective.
There is no known cure.
Graduation Is Near
Searching for graduation details on the FGCU website, I came across information about honor cords and how they should be ordered with the cap and gown. I started to freak out because I did not order any cords and I definitely worked hard to get the G.P.A. I have. After a sudden panic, I called the bookstore and asked if I had to purchase my honor cords for graduation with my cap and gown. The lady's reply "No, it is not too late to purchase honor cords. You can purchase them with your cap and gown for $12.00."
I was relieved when I hung up the phone. It finally hit me today that I will be graduating in 16 days. Before today, I told people I was graduating with no enthusiasm because I was not done with classes. Now that classes are coming to an end and I am getting myself ready for the real world, I have become excited to what the future can bring.
So, the next time someone asks me about when I am graduating, I will say in an enthused voice, "It is soon and I will be an educated woman on paper."
I was relieved when I hung up the phone. It finally hit me today that I will be graduating in 16 days. Before today, I told people I was graduating with no enthusiasm because I was not done with classes. Now that classes are coming to an end and I am getting myself ready for the real world, I have become excited to what the future can bring.
So, the next time someone asks me about when I am graduating, I will say in an enthused voice, "It is soon and I will be an educated woman on paper."
Some interesting reading
I recently had to read this article by Herbert Meyer for my Foundations of Civic Engagement class. I enjoyed reading it so much that I felt I would share it with you.
Spare the Rod...
Have any of you read this story? It's disturbing. Apparently, eight Polk County, FL teens, ages 14 to 18, were arrested for luring a former friend into a house and beating her senseless. Oh yeah, and while they ganged up on her, they videotaped it. They filmed everything but the two guys standing outside playing look-out. The victim, 17 year old Victoria Lindsay, had apparently badmouthed the girls on Myspace. To seek their revenge, the girls lured her into the Mulberry, FL home she was temporarily living in (which is where the story gets even more twisted) and beat her for 30 minutes so that they could post it on Youtube. That'll teach her!
The beating took place in the home of Mercedes Nichols, one of the attackers. Lindsay had been staying with Nichols for about a week because Lindsay had been having problems with her parents. Nichols' mom, Christina Garcia, has done several interviews since the attack, and claims that her daughter tried to warn Lindsay, and that an adult neighbor heard the warning. But during the 30 minute beating, neither Nichols nor the unidentified adult witness called the police.
This crime is disturbing. It hits close to home for me, because I live in Polk County. My siblings grew up in Mulberry. Oh, and one of the little twits is my cousin's ex-girlfriend (I tried to tell him she was trouble).
All eight were arrested and will be tried as adults. After the girls were arrested, they were LAUGHING ABOUT IT, and joking that they wouldn't be going to the beach for spring break after all. Twisted, very twisted.
I just watched an interview with Lindsay's parents. Lindsay is not in critical condition, but she definitely suffered major damages. She is recovering from a concussion, and has yet to regain hearing or vision on her left side. She also suffered several cuts and bruises. Meanwhile, her parents are blaming the Internet.
"For whatever reason, this Myspace, Youtube... It's gone too far. And what it's doing to our kid's... It's too much," said Talisa Lindsay.
"These websites that are creating a space for violent activity... As far as I am concerned, MySpace is the anti-Christ for children," claimed Patrick Lindsay.
The situation is awful. But is the Internet to blame? Is Myspace the anti-Christ? If so, does that mean I am satanic for having a Myspace account?
I would really like to see someone step up and tell parents everywhere to wake up and smell the freakin' coffee. Do you want to know why your kids are beating the crap out of each other? Because that's how they see you solve problems. Do you want to know why your kids are getting into trouble? Maybe it is because you don't keep decent tabs on them to know what they're doing. Where did these eight sets of parents think their kids were when this happened?
I'm not a parent yet, so it may be unfair for me to toss around these kinds of accusations. But I do know that when I have children, I will know where they are and who they are with, for the most part. And no, I will not spare the rod...
The beating took place in the home of Mercedes Nichols, one of the attackers. Lindsay had been staying with Nichols for about a week because Lindsay had been having problems with her parents. Nichols' mom, Christina Garcia, has done several interviews since the attack, and claims that her daughter tried to warn Lindsay, and that an adult neighbor heard the warning. But during the 30 minute beating, neither Nichols nor the unidentified adult witness called the police.
This crime is disturbing. It hits close to home for me, because I live in Polk County. My siblings grew up in Mulberry. Oh, and one of the little twits is my cousin's ex-girlfriend (I tried to tell him she was trouble).
All eight were arrested and will be tried as adults. After the girls were arrested, they were LAUGHING ABOUT IT, and joking that they wouldn't be going to the beach for spring break after all. Twisted, very twisted.
I just watched an interview with Lindsay's parents. Lindsay is not in critical condition, but she definitely suffered major damages. She is recovering from a concussion, and has yet to regain hearing or vision on her left side. She also suffered several cuts and bruises. Meanwhile, her parents are blaming the Internet.
"For whatever reason, this Myspace, Youtube... It's gone too far. And what it's doing to our kid's... It's too much," said Talisa Lindsay.
"These websites that are creating a space for violent activity... As far as I am concerned, MySpace is the anti-Christ for children," claimed Patrick Lindsay.
The situation is awful. But is the Internet to blame? Is Myspace the anti-Christ? If so, does that mean I am satanic for having a Myspace account?
I would really like to see someone step up and tell parents everywhere to wake up and smell the freakin' coffee. Do you want to know why your kids are beating the crap out of each other? Because that's how they see you solve problems. Do you want to know why your kids are getting into trouble? Maybe it is because you don't keep decent tabs on them to know what they're doing. Where did these eight sets of parents think their kids were when this happened?
I'm not a parent yet, so it may be unfair for me to toss around these kinds of accusations. But I do know that when I have children, I will know where they are and who they are with, for the most part. And no, I will not spare the rod...
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Coming to a Close...
The semester is almost over. We will no longer be blogging for a grade. I've really enjoyed the class and reading everyone's blogs. Just posing the question here for informational purposes- Who will be keeping up with their blog after the class has ended?
I for one plan to keep Upon A Living Canvas up and running. Anyone else?
I for one plan to keep Upon A Living Canvas up and running. Anyone else?
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
technology and me are not bff's.
Today's post is coming from my new HP laptop. While I am pretty excited to have a new computer, the circumstances are quite troubling.
Last night, around eleven at night, I was sitting on my bed watching TV. My laptop was sitting on my desk. All of a sudden, I hear the most odd clicking sound. I started looking around trying to figure out the source of the noise. Low and behold, my laptop is making terrible noises at me. The screen turned black, and hitting any key resulted in me being reprimanded with a loud beep.
I frantically tried restarting the computer, but when it came back on there was no hope for me. Nothing was happening. My trip to Best Buy this morning gave me horrible news. That clicking sound was my hard drive dying. Not only did my it crash, but none of the data is retrievable. And of course, the last time I backed up my photos on my external hard drive was a month ago. Goodbye to my photos, schoolwork, and music.
So, lesson of this story? You can't back up your irreplaceable documents too much. Looks like I am spending part of my night redoing my workshop of Heather's blog.
Last night, around eleven at night, I was sitting on my bed watching TV. My laptop was sitting on my desk. All of a sudden, I hear the most odd clicking sound. I started looking around trying to figure out the source of the noise. Low and behold, my laptop is making terrible noises at me. The screen turned black, and hitting any key resulted in me being reprimanded with a loud beep.
I frantically tried restarting the computer, but when it came back on there was no hope for me. Nothing was happening. My trip to Best Buy this morning gave me horrible news. That clicking sound was my hard drive dying. Not only did my it crash, but none of the data is retrievable. And of course, the last time I backed up my photos on my external hard drive was a month ago. Goodbye to my photos, schoolwork, and music.
So, lesson of this story? You can't back up your irreplaceable documents too much. Looks like I am spending part of my night redoing my workshop of Heather's blog.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Workshops...
Being in workshop today really made me realize the job I did on Todd's blog was rather dispirited. My mindset was simply there isn't a whole lot left to say. Second workshop same as the first. But I was wrong. Every presenter today was oozing zeal.
Good job guys.
Good job guys.
Hating Topics
Remember when Professor Harrison warned us to choose our topics carefully? Well, I don’t know about the rest of you but I don’t think I was quite careful enough. I so dreadfully sick of my topic already. I realize that the information hasn’t been depleted, but everything that spills onto the page feels like worthless drivel. The more in-depth we get about constructing good sentences the les able I feel to do so. That compounds the problem, because now , not only do not like what I am writing about, I feel woefully inadequate to write anything. Am I the only one feeling overwhelmed? Is any one less regretting their topic choices? If so, how are you coping?
Monday, April 7, 2008
"I can smile about it now but at the time it was terrible…"
As of late it seems that the class blog has been getting more personal with the odd story being shared here and there. Here's one of mine.
I don't live in the best neighborhood. I live downtown, which is bittersweet at best.
My house is cavernous and terribly cheap to rent. When I first met my land lord he laughed when he first saw me and said "White boy huh?" I nodded my head confirming that yes indeed I was white and then signed the lease. Before my land lord left he said "Good luck white boy." and then began laughing as he drove off.
I didn't find the comments offensive. I just remember thinking that as far as ghettos went this one wasn't all that bad. And it's true. The area I live in now is fairly safe. It has its share of drug dealers and half way houses. But for the most part things are relatively quiet around here. And to be honest, I'm really glad to live here.
I say all this because, before Florida, my friend Shane and I unknowingly moved into one of the worst ghetto's Chicago had to offer. Within the first month our apartment had been broken into. All this did was enforce a new rule of whoever was going to the bathroom past 10:00 p.m. had to knock on the others door four times; which really is as maddening and useless as it sounds.
Shortly after the break in Shane and I were told in class by an astonished classmate that the movie Judgment Night was filmed where we lived. Judgment Night indeed… That very night as we walked back home Chris pointed to some bridge and said " Yep. Look, that's the scene where the bus breaks down..." And that was also the scene where a group of men came out of the inky blackness and beat Chris and me before taking our money.
A lot more happened while we lived there, but all in all it was a good experience. My grades had never been better because in a needless way, my surroundings were teaching me not to waste my time or my potential; which is part of the reason I still cling to the outskirts of such places now. All of this is not normal I know, but the rent is terribly cheap.
I don't live in the best neighborhood. I live downtown, which is bittersweet at best.
My house is cavernous and terribly cheap to rent. When I first met my land lord he laughed when he first saw me and said "White boy huh?" I nodded my head confirming that yes indeed I was white and then signed the lease. Before my land lord left he said "Good luck white boy." and then began laughing as he drove off.
I didn't find the comments offensive. I just remember thinking that as far as ghettos went this one wasn't all that bad. And it's true. The area I live in now is fairly safe. It has its share of drug dealers and half way houses. But for the most part things are relatively quiet around here. And to be honest, I'm really glad to live here.
I say all this because, before Florida, my friend Shane and I unknowingly moved into one of the worst ghetto's Chicago had to offer. Within the first month our apartment had been broken into. All this did was enforce a new rule of whoever was going to the bathroom past 10:00 p.m. had to knock on the others door four times; which really is as maddening and useless as it sounds.
Shortly after the break in Shane and I were told in class by an astonished classmate that the movie Judgment Night was filmed where we lived. Judgment Night indeed… That very night as we walked back home Chris pointed to some bridge and said " Yep. Look, that's the scene where the bus breaks down..." And that was also the scene where a group of men came out of the inky blackness and beat Chris and me before taking our money.
A lot more happened while we lived there, but all in all it was a good experience. My grades had never been better because in a needless way, my surroundings were teaching me not to waste my time or my potential; which is part of the reason I still cling to the outskirts of such places now. All of this is not normal I know, but the rent is terribly cheap.
Technical Difficulties
I just spent an hour working on a blog. I edited twice. It was one that I felt really good about, too. The information was good and it was divided into paragraphs. Alas, it was not meant to be read because just as I hit post- my cat happened. (I named him Rascal for a reason.)
One time I read an article about how red is the only color cats can see. I believe it, because my little darling becomes inordinately fascinated with my lips whenever I wear red lipstick. He jumps on my lap and bats at my face with his paws. I’ve never taken the time to test anything else, but I now feel I have irrefutable proof the article was telling the truth.
My cat is lazy. In fact, I am quite sure if you looked it up in the dictionary there would be his picture next to it. Nothing will entice him to play. Or at least nothing did until today. This evening I made the mistake of moving from my desk onto the sofa in the other room and I connected to the internet with a red cord. Apparently, he succumbed to color curiosity and pounced on the cord ripping it from the back of my computer just as I hit post. Since I had used the cut and paste method, there was no draft saved anywhere. I have so learned my lesson. From now on, I will sit tucked neatly behind my desk with my cat shut in the other room and I will back up my post after every sentence. Overkill? I think not. My lazy louse has turned into an attack mouser and I caught him red- uh, pawed.
One time I read an article about how red is the only color cats can see. I believe it, because my little darling becomes inordinately fascinated with my lips whenever I wear red lipstick. He jumps on my lap and bats at my face with his paws. I’ve never taken the time to test anything else, but I now feel I have irrefutable proof the article was telling the truth.
My cat is lazy. In fact, I am quite sure if you looked it up in the dictionary there would be his picture next to it. Nothing will entice him to play. Or at least nothing did until today. This evening I made the mistake of moving from my desk onto the sofa in the other room and I connected to the internet with a red cord. Apparently, he succumbed to color curiosity and pounced on the cord ripping it from the back of my computer just as I hit post. Since I had used the cut and paste method, there was no draft saved anywhere. I have so learned my lesson. From now on, I will sit tucked neatly behind my desk with my cat shut in the other room and I will back up my post after every sentence. Overkill? I think not. My lazy louse has turned into an attack mouser and I caught him red- uh, pawed.
God and the Toilet Bowl
A recent conversation with a friend of mine turned to religion. He posited that all religions are exactly the same; they provide humans with the same necessities and myths, whether the messenger wears an episcopal miter or Buddhist robes. He reasoned that every religion involves a transfer of value from the self to the divine path, the cause, or the ideal. Indeed, logia and precepts universally urge us to follow a code that, if upheld, will lead to a graceful life and a privileged afterlife. But I argued that these foci are ubiquitous to a fault. Surely the relationship between people and religion is similar (if not exactly the same) all across the board, but the relationship between people and their surroundings varies widely, and much of this discrepancy is attributable to religion. Different religions espouse different maxims and advocate different mindsets. They implant different beliefs and foster different relations between man and nature, nature and the cosmos. They urge different lifestyles, subordination and sovereignty. They are different, says I.
This is where the conversation shifted to my critique of over-generalization. The similarities my friend highlighted are so broad they can be applied to everything; philosophy, art, education, vocation, etc. all involve devotion to a higher order, a better life, an understanding that may never come. The aspect of worship is always there. Each field has its idols, and each disciple strives for some sense of piety and nirvana. We all have a purpose. Every action, down to the most trivial of motor functions, involves a cause and requires subservience to its method. So while my friend may have oversimplified religion, he revealed man's entire earthly existence to be an unwitting pilgrimage. Even shitting has its heaven: "ahh...sweet relief!"
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Ghosting through Life
My uncle has cancer. We have watched him drop pounds and his skin become papery and opaque. There have been times when I thought he would simply become transparent and then fade into the air as I watched. He fights to live for us, but what he has achieved is mere existence. He is alive but he doesn't really get to live. Watching him makes me appreciate small things about my life every day. I can walk. I can drive. I can even stay up for longer than thirty minutes at a stretch. When I think of all the personal freedom he no longer has, I realize there are worse things than death. Like the half life he clings to so tenaciously. I am under no illusions that he does so for himself. He hangs on for us; waiting for my family to realize what I have. I can't speak for them, but the smile Uncle Bob gives me as I smuggle in food unsanctioned by his doctor tells me he is aware I now understand what he has been trying to tell me. Death is not to be feared, getting so busy one forgets to live life should be . From now on, I am going to live. If for no other reason than to guarantee that my uncle didn't hang around in vain.
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