You know, I really like to think of myself as modest. I am, perhaps, a bit self conscious about even the things I know I do well. That said, I think I'm pretty proud of this blog overall. Whenever I come here to express what I happen to be feeling, I almost always come away feeling satisfied. Even if nobody pays attention, I've said what's on my mind just about as well as I think it could be said. Sometimes I need to add a few things here and there, but in general, I'm happy with it.
At this juncture, I should probably mention...writing a blog post...a whole lot easier than writing a book. When I write to my blog, I don't have to keep track of all these interdependencies for continuity. I don't get supremely disheartened when I know I have to change something that's going to have to be propagated throughout. I don't have to worry about whether or not secondary characters are overshadowing the main character. I don't have to go through this whole process of creating an entirely new world with elements that are familiar enough for the audience to be comfortable but different enough for them to be excited. I don't have to edit each blog post four, five, six times on my own before a professional editor gets a hold of it.
It's a damn good thing I've invested over six years in this book. Otherwise I might scrap the whole thing. That's a little harsh. Actually, I really like the story as it is for the most part. I really like most of the characters, especially the potential they have to be great characters. I like all the ideas I've had for continuing this as a series, including a prequel.
Here's a piece of advice for those of you blessed and cursed with inspiration. Don't be disillusioned. If you think you really have something, stick with it, even if the tweaking you still have to do looks daunting. Take a step back and look at the big picture. Think of your vision manifested in this world in all its glory. If that doesn't get you going again, well, sometimes you just need to start over from the beginning. Just remember, nothing you create is a complete waste.
Don't you just love giving yourself little pep talks?
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Something Different
If I may be allowed a little hyperbole, Peter Jackson is a god. He creates worlds, characters, and situations that are real. Watch one of his films and you will suddenly find yourself in another place where the extraordinary and epic are commonplace. If you experience his work and do not come away inspired, I would take my muses in for a check-up if I were you.
So, what's with all the Jackson praise? Well, we just got back from seeing King Kong, and let me just say...wow. I know, I know, it's not like he actually wrote the original story. Nor did he for Lord of the Rings, but Peter Jackson's gift transcends such trifling details. He has a way of capturing the very essence of what makes a story special to us, distilling it, and adding a dash of his own personal flair, which culminates in a synergistic explosion of images that weaves pure artistry and emotion into our very souls.
All that said, would I go so far as to say Kong was perfect? Well, no, of course not, but the things that made it imperfect were the kinds of things that moviegoers can and will easily overlook. We can nitpick all we like, but if we were only to accept entertainment based upon its realism, our lives would be pretty boring.
The CG was amazing, but there were a few places where, like in LOTR, you could easily tell the difference between the real elements and the CG, especially when they were in frame together. It doesn't happen often, but I noticed a couple of times. Overall, I am still astounded by how far the envelope gets pushed every time with these special effects. Kong was truly majestic, and a very humble tip of the hat goes to Andy Serkis once again for his amazing physical acting. Without him, we would not be so convinced by characters like Kong and Gollum.
Aside from some of the inherent problems of a heavily CG film, the only other thing was that there were several times where I think many characters should have definitely died. I mean, it made for some really breathless action sequences, but these have to be the luckiest damn people ever. A lot of people did die, but not nearly the amount you would have thought based upon what happened on the screen.
But really, all in all, it doesn't matter what the body count was, the not-quite-seamless level of CG we're capable of, or how strangely sad the story of Kong is. What matters is that you're there, believing every second of it from the first frame to the last, until the house lights come up and remind you that you don't live in a world where 25 foot gorillas fall in love with beautiful blondes and tear up New York looking for them. Welcome back to reality. Enjoy your stay.
So, what's with all the Jackson praise? Well, we just got back from seeing King Kong, and let me just say...wow. I know, I know, it's not like he actually wrote the original story. Nor did he for Lord of the Rings, but Peter Jackson's gift transcends such trifling details. He has a way of capturing the very essence of what makes a story special to us, distilling it, and adding a dash of his own personal flair, which culminates in a synergistic explosion of images that weaves pure artistry and emotion into our very souls.
All that said, would I go so far as to say Kong was perfect? Well, no, of course not, but the things that made it imperfect were the kinds of things that moviegoers can and will easily overlook. We can nitpick all we like, but if we were only to accept entertainment based upon its realism, our lives would be pretty boring.
The CG was amazing, but there were a few places where, like in LOTR, you could easily tell the difference between the real elements and the CG, especially when they were in frame together. It doesn't happen often, but I noticed a couple of times. Overall, I am still astounded by how far the envelope gets pushed every time with these special effects. Kong was truly majestic, and a very humble tip of the hat goes to Andy Serkis once again for his amazing physical acting. Without him, we would not be so convinced by characters like Kong and Gollum.
Aside from some of the inherent problems of a heavily CG film, the only other thing was that there were several times where I think many characters should have definitely died. I mean, it made for some really breathless action sequences, but these have to be the luckiest damn people ever. A lot of people did die, but not nearly the amount you would have thought based upon what happened on the screen.
But really, all in all, it doesn't matter what the body count was, the not-quite-seamless level of CG we're capable of, or how strangely sad the story of Kong is. What matters is that you're there, believing every second of it from the first frame to the last, until the house lights come up and remind you that you don't live in a world where 25 foot gorillas fall in love with beautiful blondes and tear up New York looking for them. Welcome back to reality. Enjoy your stay.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Jihad for Christmas
Okay, I'm going to go out on a limb here. I have to say something because things have gotten to a level of ridiculousness that I simply cannot tolerate quietly. I had the displeasure of reading an article today on MSN about how Christian conservatives are up in arms over the White House holiday card and the genericizing of retail holiday promotions. Because I don't want to end up with dead links on the blog later, allow me to summarize the article:
Once again this year, President Bush sent out 1.4 million holiday cards to his close friends and supporters. The card wishes recipients a happy "holiday season", but for some, the friendly message rings hollow. In a time when the more equally applicable "happy holidays" replaces the previously common "merry Christmas", conservative Christians are crying out in defiance of consideration for a more diverse population.
This cry is being heard more and more every year as retailers abandon Christmas sales for holiday specials and public events such as tree lightings are given more "politically correct" titles. Conservative groups claim that there is a "war on Christmas" and have taken actions to boycott retailers and events that have given into the public trend and removed specifically Christian references from public scrutiny. They hope to put pressure on decision-makers and put the "Christ" back into Christmas.
Now, let me go over some specific things in this article that got me worked up.
~ This first one is actually kind of good. It's nice to see that some Christians understand. In this article, Rev. Bob Edgar, general secretary of the National Council of Churches is quoted as saying, "I think it's more important to put Christ back into our war planning than into our Christmas cards."
Touché
~ Next, Tim Wildmon, president of the American Family Association in Tupelo, Miss. said, "Sometimes it's hard to tell whether this is sinister -- it's the purging of Christ from Christmas -- or whether it's just political correctness run amok..."
Uh, sinister? Yeah, that's right. Satan lurks in the good intentions we have to not only refrain from offending those who don't celebrate Christmas, but also the friendly act of including them in the celebration of a holiday season that has been sacred for the majority of human beings since even before the supposed birth of Christ...
~ On the flipside, "It bothers me that the White House card leaves off any reference to Jesus, while we've got Ramadan celebrations in the White House," Wildmon said. "What's going on there?"
I reluctantly have to say that I agree. If the White House is not so eager to endorse Christmas, they should also keep away from other religions' holiday celebrations. Conversely, I wouldn't mind if the White House honored the diversity of our country and humanity in general by celebrating all kinds of holiday traditions, including Christmas.
~ William A. Donohue, president of the Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights, announced a boycott of the Lands' End catalogue when he received his White House holiday card. True, he said, the Bushes included a verse from Psalm 28, but Psalms are in the Old Testament and do not mention Jesus' birth.
Oh brother! What the hell is wrong with people? This one got me really steamed. I make it halfway through the article merely rolling my eyes, then I find out that there is actually a biblical verse on the card! How finely can we split hairs? Regardless if it is an Old Testament verse, it is still a Christian reference. Okay, so some Jews might dig the message...heaven forbid!
~ Donohue said that Wal-Mart, facing a threatened boycott, added a Christmas page to its Web site and fired a customer relations employee who wrote a letter linking Christmas to "Siberian shamanism."
If I were that employee...I would be dialing me a lawyer. Let's face it, folks, most Christmas traditions are taken from much older religious practices. For example, where in the Bible is the Christmas tree mentioned? Actually, where in the Bible does it even mention the time of year Christ was born? There are clues in the Bible that very strongly suggest it was much earlier in the year than December. If that's so, why do you think the church eventually settled on December 25th? Take a look at religions from around the world and research some ancient religions as well. I think you'll find compelling information about many significant dates at or around the winter solstice, usually around December 22nd.
~ "Ninety-six percent of Americans celebrate Christmas," Donohue said. "Spare me the diversity lecture."
Ah yes, statistics, because we all know how accurate they can be. What that beefed up 96% number doesn't say is how many of those people are conservative Christians who actually care that government, schools and retailers are being considerate to those of alternate or no faith. It also doesn't say how many of them celebrate it as the birth of Christ. Granted, it is probably still a majority, but that should not be the point. And no, Donahue, we will not spare the diversity lecture as long as ignorant, intolerant blowhards like you prefer to ignore the fact that there are other human beings on this planet.
~ And finally, "There's a verse from Scripture in it. I don't mind that at all, as long as we don't try to pretend we're not a nation under God," said the Rev. Jerry Falwell.
Ah yes, let us not forget words of wisdom from the infamous, intractable Rev. Falwell. Jerry's "nation under God" phrase is, of course, a reference to the pledge of allegiance, another hotbed of conservative contention. But what I bet the good reverend doesn't know is that the phrase was added to the pledge in the 1950's along with several other religious references in government in order to separate the U.S. culture from communism, whose adopters were typically atheists. Let us not forget that our forefathers had a preference towards deism and transcendentalism and that the original motto of the U.S. is not "In God We Trust", but the more appropriate, and I think poignant, "E Pluribus Unum", "One From Many".
Addendum posted Dec. 9, 2005:
As I look over the content of this post and receive feedback from visitors, I think a little bit of clarification might be in order. I want to make it understood that I am not one of these Political Correctness (PC) enforcers. To me, PC is akin to censorship, which is something I also generally disagree with. I do have a tendency to use some PC terms in my own speech and writing, but my use of them is inconsistent and is occasionally situation sensitive.
The point is, when somebody says "Merry Christmas" to me, I usually smile and wish them the same, or I at least wish them "Happy Holidays". I agree with Elgon in his comment; I do not draw back in horror or tell the well-wisher off. I don't see anything wrong with "Merry Christmas" appearing in holiday retail promotions either. If retailers want to give me a discount, I don't care if they call it the "Go to Hell, You White Honkey Bastard" sale. Just make sure my items ring up right, dammit.
This is my problem with the article, and the concept in general: Conservative Christians are asking us to be PC to the minutest possible detail. Now we can't just offer a generic holiday greeting to cover all of our bases. No, now we have to know exactly what sect of exactly which faith the recipients of our message will be and tailor each individual message accordingly. The Christians will get special promotional ads from retailers that say "Merry Christmas", while Jews will get ones that specify "Happy Chanukah", and Wiccans will get ones that say "Solstice Blessings", etc. Talk about ridiculous!
Ok, so retailers use generic holiday wishes to appeal to the widest demographic possible. They're businesses, that is what it is in their best interest to do. Get over it already. By boycotting them you're only making your holiday shopping more expensive! Wake up and start caring about things that really matter, like the fact that yet another holiday season is passing by, regardless of our faith, and we all still have loved ones risking their lives overseas for a cause that many of us either never believed in or are just starting to doubt. Why don't we worry about how to get George W. to bring our troops back home, rather than what he's putting on his friggin' Christmas cards!
And speaking of W., I just wanted to add this one last thing. He's a politician, so I think the generic holiday greeting is a good move. I know he's a Christian, and however he wants to celebrate the holiday season is fine, but politicians have to be careful about the message they send to the public. Politicians are the ones for whom political correctness is the most important. We must be wary of any message a politician sends to the people that even hints at the public endorsement of a particular faith. Regardless of what the majority of the people in this country believe spiritually, we must not become a religious state. Once religion officially starts meddling in politics, the door is open for the government to begin stripping us of our constitutional rights under the guise of divine reason.
*lays down two pennies*
Once again this year, President Bush sent out 1.4 million holiday cards to his close friends and supporters. The card wishes recipients a happy "holiday season", but for some, the friendly message rings hollow. In a time when the more equally applicable "happy holidays" replaces the previously common "merry Christmas", conservative Christians are crying out in defiance of consideration for a more diverse population.
This cry is being heard more and more every year as retailers abandon Christmas sales for holiday specials and public events such as tree lightings are given more "politically correct" titles. Conservative groups claim that there is a "war on Christmas" and have taken actions to boycott retailers and events that have given into the public trend and removed specifically Christian references from public scrutiny. They hope to put pressure on decision-makers and put the "Christ" back into Christmas.
Now, let me go over some specific things in this article that got me worked up.
~ This first one is actually kind of good. It's nice to see that some Christians understand. In this article, Rev. Bob Edgar, general secretary of the National Council of Churches is quoted as saying, "I think it's more important to put Christ back into our war planning than into our Christmas cards."
Touché
~ Next, Tim Wildmon, president of the American Family Association in Tupelo, Miss. said, "Sometimes it's hard to tell whether this is sinister -- it's the purging of Christ from Christmas -- or whether it's just political correctness run amok..."
Uh, sinister? Yeah, that's right. Satan lurks in the good intentions we have to not only refrain from offending those who don't celebrate Christmas, but also the friendly act of including them in the celebration of a holiday season that has been sacred for the majority of human beings since even before the supposed birth of Christ...
~ On the flipside, "It bothers me that the White House card leaves off any reference to Jesus, while we've got Ramadan celebrations in the White House," Wildmon said. "What's going on there?"
I reluctantly have to say that I agree. If the White House is not so eager to endorse Christmas, they should also keep away from other religions' holiday celebrations. Conversely, I wouldn't mind if the White House honored the diversity of our country and humanity in general by celebrating all kinds of holiday traditions, including Christmas.
~ William A. Donohue, president of the Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights, announced a boycott of the Lands' End catalogue when he received his White House holiday card. True, he said, the Bushes included a verse from Psalm 28, but Psalms are in the Old Testament and do not mention Jesus' birth.
Oh brother! What the hell is wrong with people? This one got me really steamed. I make it halfway through the article merely rolling my eyes, then I find out that there is actually a biblical verse on the card! How finely can we split hairs? Regardless if it is an Old Testament verse, it is still a Christian reference. Okay, so some Jews might dig the message...heaven forbid!
~ Donohue said that Wal-Mart, facing a threatened boycott, added a Christmas page to its Web site and fired a customer relations employee who wrote a letter linking Christmas to "Siberian shamanism."
If I were that employee...I would be dialing me a lawyer. Let's face it, folks, most Christmas traditions are taken from much older religious practices. For example, where in the Bible is the Christmas tree mentioned? Actually, where in the Bible does it even mention the time of year Christ was born? There are clues in the Bible that very strongly suggest it was much earlier in the year than December. If that's so, why do you think the church eventually settled on December 25th? Take a look at religions from around the world and research some ancient religions as well. I think you'll find compelling information about many significant dates at or around the winter solstice, usually around December 22nd.
~ "Ninety-six percent of Americans celebrate Christmas," Donohue said. "Spare me the diversity lecture."
Ah yes, statistics, because we all know how accurate they can be. What that beefed up 96% number doesn't say is how many of those people are conservative Christians who actually care that government, schools and retailers are being considerate to those of alternate or no faith. It also doesn't say how many of them celebrate it as the birth of Christ. Granted, it is probably still a majority, but that should not be the point. And no, Donahue, we will not spare the diversity lecture as long as ignorant, intolerant blowhards like you prefer to ignore the fact that there are other human beings on this planet.
~ And finally, "There's a verse from Scripture in it. I don't mind that at all, as long as we don't try to pretend we're not a nation under God," said the Rev. Jerry Falwell.
Ah yes, let us not forget words of wisdom from the infamous, intractable Rev. Falwell. Jerry's "nation under God" phrase is, of course, a reference to the pledge of allegiance, another hotbed of conservative contention. But what I bet the good reverend doesn't know is that the phrase was added to the pledge in the 1950's along with several other religious references in government in order to separate the U.S. culture from communism, whose adopters were typically atheists. Let us not forget that our forefathers had a preference towards deism and transcendentalism and that the original motto of the U.S. is not "In God We Trust", but the more appropriate, and I think poignant, "E Pluribus Unum", "One From Many".
Addendum posted Dec. 9, 2005:
As I look over the content of this post and receive feedback from visitors, I think a little bit of clarification might be in order. I want to make it understood that I am not one of these Political Correctness (PC) enforcers. To me, PC is akin to censorship, which is something I also generally disagree with. I do have a tendency to use some PC terms in my own speech and writing, but my use of them is inconsistent and is occasionally situation sensitive.
The point is, when somebody says "Merry Christmas" to me, I usually smile and wish them the same, or I at least wish them "Happy Holidays". I agree with Elgon in his comment; I do not draw back in horror or tell the well-wisher off. I don't see anything wrong with "Merry Christmas" appearing in holiday retail promotions either. If retailers want to give me a discount, I don't care if they call it the "Go to Hell, You White Honkey Bastard" sale. Just make sure my items ring up right, dammit.
This is my problem with the article, and the concept in general: Conservative Christians are asking us to be PC to the minutest possible detail. Now we can't just offer a generic holiday greeting to cover all of our bases. No, now we have to know exactly what sect of exactly which faith the recipients of our message will be and tailor each individual message accordingly. The Christians will get special promotional ads from retailers that say "Merry Christmas", while Jews will get ones that specify "Happy Chanukah", and Wiccans will get ones that say "Solstice Blessings", etc. Talk about ridiculous!
Ok, so retailers use generic holiday wishes to appeal to the widest demographic possible. They're businesses, that is what it is in their best interest to do. Get over it already. By boycotting them you're only making your holiday shopping more expensive! Wake up and start caring about things that really matter, like the fact that yet another holiday season is passing by, regardless of our faith, and we all still have loved ones risking their lives overseas for a cause that many of us either never believed in or are just starting to doubt. Why don't we worry about how to get George W. to bring our troops back home, rather than what he's putting on his friggin' Christmas cards!
And speaking of W., I just wanted to add this one last thing. He's a politician, so I think the generic holiday greeting is a good move. I know he's a Christian, and however he wants to celebrate the holiday season is fine, but politicians have to be careful about the message they send to the public. Politicians are the ones for whom political correctness is the most important. We must be wary of any message a politician sends to the people that even hints at the public endorsement of a particular faith. Regardless of what the majority of the people in this country believe spiritually, we must not become a religious state. Once religion officially starts meddling in politics, the door is open for the government to begin stripping us of our constitutional rights under the guise of divine reason.
*lays down two pennies*
Thursday, December 01, 2005
The Dragon's Duel
Hello all! Once again I come bearing samples of my writing. This one should seem a bit familiar. In an earlier post I submitted a clipping from my fantasy novel. It involved one of the misadventures of a secondary character named Su-Ni. Well, again I'm offering a piece of Su-Ni's story, but this one comes from the next book in the series, which, aside from this bit, hasn't even been written yet. Since I haven't even begun to write the next book, I hope you'll see through the rough nature of this section to the glimpse of my vision hidden therein.
* * * * *
Su-Ni gaped in awe as she watched the strange black-clad figure effortlessly scale the side of the scorched two story building and flip up onto the roof. Turning away, she looked into the sky, trying to catch a glimpse of the beast that had wreaked all this havoc. It was swooping this way and that in the distance, but considering its ever increasing size, she knew it was getting closer. The flames that consumed the homes around her lashed out, filling the air with a stinging heat, but she did not flinch. She would not take her eyes off the approaching creature.
As it came on, Su-Ni saw another white spray of fire spew forth from the dragon's mouth and descend on the buildings below. Smoke began to rise instantly in the beast's wake. It was a nightmare come alive. Tears of anger filled her eyes as she drew back on her bow, knowing that her arrows would likely be useless against the armored hide of her foe. Regardless, she blinked away the tears and took aim at the dragon as it sped closer.
It was nearly on top of her when she loosed her arrow. Its trajectory was completely lost in the slinking pattern of scales that wound by in the sky. She fell over at the sudden rush of painfully hot air that tackled her as the beast swept past. Flipping over quickly, Su-Ni scrambled to her feet, looked up, and gasped.
The warrior in black leapt as the dragon passed overhead. It was no small jump. This mysterious man shot up from the roof and somehow latched onto the side of the beast, which could not have been less than thirty feet above him. Su-Ni could do nothing in that moment other than stare in amazement.
It was clear that the dragon knew something was wrong because it suddenly began to coil around itself and emit a deafening screech. She couldn't quite make out what was going on, but whatever it was, it had the dragon momentarily distracted. Su-Ni put two fingers into her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. Not waiting for a response, she ran up to the building that the dark warrior had climbed and began looking for a way up.
When it quickly became apparent to her that there were no hand or footholds in the smooth wall, she ran to the front door and pushed it open. Before going in, she looked back out into the street. When she saw no one coming, she let out another whistle and ducked inside.
A few seconds later, a door opened in the floor of the roof and Su-Ni pulled herself out of it. She looked up and saw that the dragon was still thrashing, though now it seemed more desperate. She still could not see the warrior in black through the blur of the creature's scaly body. Running over to the edge of the roof, she looked down at the street. At one end, two men came running around the corner.
With a satisfied nod to herself, she turned back to the fight overhead and drew an arrow from her quiver. She didn't know how much good she would do, but as long as she was still standing, she would not do nothing. Drawing a bead on a specific part of the constantly twisting mass that was the dragon was difficult. But the beast was huge and, thus, difficult to miss. She let the arrow fly, hoping that it wouldn't hit their mysterious ally, assuming he wasn't already dead.
This time, she saw her arrow bounce off the hard scales of her target. She sighed in frustration as she drew another. If only she could find a chink in that armor. As she scanned the writhing mass above her for some hint of weakness, something dropped away from the beast. Su-Ni flinched as she realized it was man shaped.
A second or two later, the dark warrior hit the roof a few feet away from her and fell right through. The impact was too much for the brittle dwelling, scorched by the dragon's fire. With a loud creaking and cracking, the building collapsed in on itself. The debris swallowed up Su-Ni and the mysterious black-clad man.
"Su-Ni!" called out Denlin as he and O'eintsu made it to the building just as it crumbled to the ground.
O'eintsu immediately hopped up onto the still settling remains of the structure as his comrade scrambled to follow. They began to sift through the rubble that had, only moments ago, supported their friend and fellow soldier. The danger in the sky above was momentarily forgotten as they searched frantically. Each second that passed without finding her seemed like minutes.
They became so desperate that they almost didn't notice a soot-blackened board shifting seemingly of its own free will. Denlin looked over just in time to see a slightly battered Su-Ni emerge from a pile of broken wood and mortar. The normally sure-footed warrior stumbled hurriedly over to her. O'eintsu was not far behind.
"Are you alright?" Denlin asked.
Su-Ni nodded and looked up. "It's gone..." she trailed.
Her two friends followed her gaze. The dragon was nowhere in sight. The settlement was suddenly strangely calm.
"Come, help me find him," she urged them.
"Who?" asked O'eintsu.
"Didn't you see him fall?" Su-Ni asked. "It was the warrior in black."
There was a momentary pause as the two men digested what she had just said. Then, they quickly joined her in searching for the warrior. It did not take the three of them long to find him. The dark warrior was lying under a section of collapsed roof. When they cleared away the debris, they saw clutched in one of his hands, a bloody shortsword, and in the other, two thick dragon scales.
"Who is he?" muttered Denlin in awe, voicing the same question that had been on the lips of half the empire for the past few weeks.
Su-Ni knelt next to the prone warrior's body. His head was wrapped in the same black fabric as the rest of his clothing, and his eyes were the only exposed part of his flesh, except for a fresh wound on his side. The young woman reached out and touched the wrappings that obscured his face. He moaned weakly.
"Let's get him out of here," Su-Ni said distantly. In her head she was denying her suspicion of the mysterious man's identity with all her will. It was impossible. She bit her lip and tried to push down her desperately wishful thinking. As her two companions carefully lifted the warrior out of the ruins, she followed closely behind, wondering...
Su-Ni gaped in awe as she watched the strange black-clad figure effortlessly scale the side of the scorched two story building and flip up onto the roof. Turning away, she looked into the sky, trying to catch a glimpse of the beast that had wreaked all this havoc. It was swooping this way and that in the distance, but considering its ever increasing size, she knew it was getting closer. The flames that consumed the homes around her lashed out, filling the air with a stinging heat, but she did not flinch. She would not take her eyes off the approaching creature.
As it came on, Su-Ni saw another white spray of fire spew forth from the dragon's mouth and descend on the buildings below. Smoke began to rise instantly in the beast's wake. It was a nightmare come alive. Tears of anger filled her eyes as she drew back on her bow, knowing that her arrows would likely be useless against the armored hide of her foe. Regardless, she blinked away the tears and took aim at the dragon as it sped closer.
It was nearly on top of her when she loosed her arrow. Its trajectory was completely lost in the slinking pattern of scales that wound by in the sky. She fell over at the sudden rush of painfully hot air that tackled her as the beast swept past. Flipping over quickly, Su-Ni scrambled to her feet, looked up, and gasped.
The warrior in black leapt as the dragon passed overhead. It was no small jump. This mysterious man shot up from the roof and somehow latched onto the side of the beast, which could not have been less than thirty feet above him. Su-Ni could do nothing in that moment other than stare in amazement.
It was clear that the dragon knew something was wrong because it suddenly began to coil around itself and emit a deafening screech. She couldn't quite make out what was going on, but whatever it was, it had the dragon momentarily distracted. Su-Ni put two fingers into her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. Not waiting for a response, she ran up to the building that the dark warrior had climbed and began looking for a way up.
When it quickly became apparent to her that there were no hand or footholds in the smooth wall, she ran to the front door and pushed it open. Before going in, she looked back out into the street. When she saw no one coming, she let out another whistle and ducked inside.
A few seconds later, a door opened in the floor of the roof and Su-Ni pulled herself out of it. She looked up and saw that the dragon was still thrashing, though now it seemed more desperate. She still could not see the warrior in black through the blur of the creature's scaly body. Running over to the edge of the roof, she looked down at the street. At one end, two men came running around the corner.
With a satisfied nod to herself, she turned back to the fight overhead and drew an arrow from her quiver. She didn't know how much good she would do, but as long as she was still standing, she would not do nothing. Drawing a bead on a specific part of the constantly twisting mass that was the dragon was difficult. But the beast was huge and, thus, difficult to miss. She let the arrow fly, hoping that it wouldn't hit their mysterious ally, assuming he wasn't already dead.
This time, she saw her arrow bounce off the hard scales of her target. She sighed in frustration as she drew another. If only she could find a chink in that armor. As she scanned the writhing mass above her for some hint of weakness, something dropped away from the beast. Su-Ni flinched as she realized it was man shaped.
A second or two later, the dark warrior hit the roof a few feet away from her and fell right through. The impact was too much for the brittle dwelling, scorched by the dragon's fire. With a loud creaking and cracking, the building collapsed in on itself. The debris swallowed up Su-Ni and the mysterious black-clad man.
"Su-Ni!" called out Denlin as he and O'eintsu made it to the building just as it crumbled to the ground.
O'eintsu immediately hopped up onto the still settling remains of the structure as his comrade scrambled to follow. They began to sift through the rubble that had, only moments ago, supported their friend and fellow soldier. The danger in the sky above was momentarily forgotten as they searched frantically. Each second that passed without finding her seemed like minutes.
They became so desperate that they almost didn't notice a soot-blackened board shifting seemingly of its own free will. Denlin looked over just in time to see a slightly battered Su-Ni emerge from a pile of broken wood and mortar. The normally sure-footed warrior stumbled hurriedly over to her. O'eintsu was not far behind.
"Are you alright?" Denlin asked.
Su-Ni nodded and looked up. "It's gone..." she trailed.
Her two friends followed her gaze. The dragon was nowhere in sight. The settlement was suddenly strangely calm.
"Come, help me find him," she urged them.
"Who?" asked O'eintsu.
"Didn't you see him fall?" Su-Ni asked. "It was the warrior in black."
There was a momentary pause as the two men digested what she had just said. Then, they quickly joined her in searching for the warrior. It did not take the three of them long to find him. The dark warrior was lying under a section of collapsed roof. When they cleared away the debris, they saw clutched in one of his hands, a bloody shortsword, and in the other, two thick dragon scales.
"Who is he?" muttered Denlin in awe, voicing the same question that had been on the lips of half the empire for the past few weeks.
Su-Ni knelt next to the prone warrior's body. His head was wrapped in the same black fabric as the rest of his clothing, and his eyes were the only exposed part of his flesh, except for a fresh wound on his side. The young woman reached out and touched the wrappings that obscured his face. He moaned weakly.
"Let's get him out of here," Su-Ni said distantly. In her head she was denying her suspicion of the mysterious man's identity with all her will. It was impossible. She bit her lip and tried to push down her desperately wishful thinking. As her two companions carefully lifted the warrior out of the ruins, she followed closely behind, wondering...
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Demon's Revenge
We have a double feature today. After posting earlier today (see post below) I got to thinking. I mentioned that at one time I was a bit into poetry. One of the things that makes me a bit leery of poetry is the fact that so much of it is produced by average people in the throes of passionate lust. As such, much of it is trite and cliché. Don't get me wrong, there is some really great love poetry out there, and I've written my fair share of trite cliché. Well, what follows is a non-love poem that I wrote several years ago. I'm pretty proud of it. The rhythm is kind of variable throughout, but I feel that the rhymes are solid and that the story is pretty good.
A moment of darkness clouds the room
As drums beat out the rhythm of doom
A moment of silence ensues in the place
And a bright light shines on every face
Quite suddenly, a loud voice booms
And suspense rises and terror blooms
Steel-clad opponents step into the ring
Their eyes begin to stare, their weapons to sing
Beads of sweat shine throughout the room
And the feeling of terror begins to loom
The gong sounds and weapons fly
Muscles clench and hot air blows by
Nervous hands grip crumpled tickets
And heavy betting quickly empties pockets
A flash of silver, a flash of red
A clearing of dust shows one lying dead
A gasp, a sigh, a shout of joy
A cry from the mother of the boy
"He was mine! My only one!
Oh, they’ve killed him, my only son!"
"I’ve won! I’ve won!" shouts one man
And money passes from hand to hand
"Have you no hearts?" the mother cries
"My son, he lives, he fights, he dies!"
"Shut up, old hag!" the crowd echoes
And murmurs of, "It’s the law! She knows!"
Her son was chosen, he fought, he died
And for a moment, his mother cried
But now she runs into the ring
Holds her son and begins to sing
A song to bring him to another world
Thankful he'll not see her fury unfurled
She turns and faces the killer of her son
She says to him, "He was my only one"
Her tone is low, her voice is calm
Her eyes are closed, her will is strong
He looks her up, he looks her down
His lips curl into a terrible frown
He yells to her, "You know not what you do!
If you defy me, I’ll kill you too!"
She walks to him, from her soul she spits
He raises his arm and her face he hits
She falls to her knees, tasting blood in her mouth
As black and red clouds gather to the south
"A curse on you!" she says, red on her lips
The clouds roll in as she sinks to her hips
He looks around and sees the fiery sky
Then runs her through and watches her die
His lips curl in triumph, his big arms cross
But the crowd does not cheer him; they seem at a loss
He looks and snarls and shouts, "What is wrong?!"
And a low, dull murmur seeps out from the throng
The skies churn and seem almost to boil
Smoke pours out from the gray, damp soil
A figure large and imposing forms
And the clouds sink low, as if heavy with storms
The figure with a voice deep and loud
Calls out to the frightened crowd
"The woman was right, you mortal fools,
But now here she lies while her blood pools
And in her arms, her only son
Killed, not just by this man, but by everyone!"
As the voice booms, the crowd grows stiff
Frozen in fear, their gaze does not drift
"And now, like her blood, a curse fresh on her lips
I swear to you all, you’ll all pay for this!"
The clouds burst forth a rain of pure fire
And it sweeps through the crowd as if it were briar
And the people, they burn, like the money they won
All this for the mother, and her only son
"And now for you," the loud voice booms
And the man trembles at what terror looms
"Let me begin to say what I’ll do
I daresay it will sound quite unpleasant to you"
The large figure ponders, planning his worst
"Ah! I know! Here’s what I’ll do first:
I’ll tear off each finger, as retribution demands
Pull apart every knuckle with my own bare hands
I’ll bore through your skull, drill holes in your head
But not to your brain, I don’t yet want you dead
I’ll sew shut your eyes and then pull them open
Ripping your eyelids, the skin will be broken
I’ll curl your feet backward to roll to your knees
My, are you all right? You’re starting to wheeze!
As I was saying, I’ll rip off your nose
And then I’ll clip off your ears, I suppose
Then, after I remove your lips and your tongue,
I’ll knock out your teeth and then I’ll be done
What say you? What think you? Does it sound like enough?
Perhaps I should make this punishment tough"
As the beast ponders, the man says not a word
But turns and impales himself on his sword
A moment of darkness clouds the room
As drums beat out the rhythm of doom
A moment of silence ensues in the place
And a bright light shines on every face
Quite suddenly, a loud voice booms
And suspense rises and terror blooms
Steel-clad opponents step into the ring
Their eyes begin to stare, their weapons to sing
Beads of sweat shine throughout the room
And the feeling of terror begins to loom
The gong sounds and weapons fly
Muscles clench and hot air blows by
Nervous hands grip crumpled tickets
And heavy betting quickly empties pockets
A flash of silver, a flash of red
A clearing of dust shows one lying dead
A gasp, a sigh, a shout of joy
A cry from the mother of the boy
"He was mine! My only one!
Oh, they’ve killed him, my only son!"
"I’ve won! I’ve won!" shouts one man
And money passes from hand to hand
"Have you no hearts?" the mother cries
"My son, he lives, he fights, he dies!"
"Shut up, old hag!" the crowd echoes
And murmurs of, "It’s the law! She knows!"
Her son was chosen, he fought, he died
And for a moment, his mother cried
But now she runs into the ring
Holds her son and begins to sing
A song to bring him to another world
Thankful he'll not see her fury unfurled
She turns and faces the killer of her son
She says to him, "He was my only one"
Her tone is low, her voice is calm
Her eyes are closed, her will is strong
He looks her up, he looks her down
His lips curl into a terrible frown
He yells to her, "You know not what you do!
If you defy me, I’ll kill you too!"
She walks to him, from her soul she spits
He raises his arm and her face he hits
She falls to her knees, tasting blood in her mouth
As black and red clouds gather to the south
"A curse on you!" she says, red on her lips
The clouds roll in as she sinks to her hips
He looks around and sees the fiery sky
Then runs her through and watches her die
His lips curl in triumph, his big arms cross
But the crowd does not cheer him; they seem at a loss
He looks and snarls and shouts, "What is wrong?!"
And a low, dull murmur seeps out from the throng
The skies churn and seem almost to boil
Smoke pours out from the gray, damp soil
A figure large and imposing forms
And the clouds sink low, as if heavy with storms
The figure with a voice deep and loud
Calls out to the frightened crowd
"The woman was right, you mortal fools,
But now here she lies while her blood pools
And in her arms, her only son
Killed, not just by this man, but by everyone!"
As the voice booms, the crowd grows stiff
Frozen in fear, their gaze does not drift
"And now, like her blood, a curse fresh on her lips
I swear to you all, you’ll all pay for this!"
The clouds burst forth a rain of pure fire
And it sweeps through the crowd as if it were briar
And the people, they burn, like the money they won
All this for the mother, and her only son
"And now for you," the loud voice booms
And the man trembles at what terror looms
"Let me begin to say what I’ll do
I daresay it will sound quite unpleasant to you"
The large figure ponders, planning his worst
"Ah! I know! Here’s what I’ll do first:
I’ll tear off each finger, as retribution demands
Pull apart every knuckle with my own bare hands
I’ll bore through your skull, drill holes in your head
But not to your brain, I don’t yet want you dead
I’ll sew shut your eyes and then pull them open
Ripping your eyelids, the skin will be broken
I’ll curl your feet backward to roll to your knees
My, are you all right? You’re starting to wheeze!
As I was saying, I’ll rip off your nose
And then I’ll clip off your ears, I suppose
Then, after I remove your lips and your tongue,
I’ll knock out your teeth and then I’ll be done
What say you? What think you? Does it sound like enough?
Perhaps I should make this punishment tough"
As the beast ponders, the man says not a word
But turns and impales himself on his sword
Thursday, November 17, 2005
The Loneliness of Silence
Often when I come to speak with you, my mind is overflowing with words. Ideas, heated from the friction of bouncing excitedly around my mind, come bubbling forth from me, boiling over in a seemingly endless stream of language. But today is odd. Today, my mind is empty. No thoughts fill the void as they often do, yet I am still compelled to come and talk. Usually, I speak to clear my mind and find some much needed silence. Now, here I am, casting my voice into the emptiness, trying in vain to fill the cavernous, echoing nothing with anything.
Shouldn't I just be quiet every once in a while? I know there are some who wish I would. How can I be quiet? I have been for so long. I have a lot of lost time to make up for. That's why sometimes I speak even when I have nothing to say. Or maybe it's because I think some might see my silence as a weakness. I have many weaknesses. I like to hide as many of them as I can.
Isn't that funny? As humans, we are inherently flawed creatures, but we don't like others to know about our individual flaws. Shouldn't it be good enough for them to know that my main flaw is that I'm human? I think we think too much. At least, I know I do. Well, maybe it's better to say I think too much about some things and not enough about others. Does it balance out somehow in the end?
See? We're always seeking external affirmation. What's wrong with us? We know that reality is based on perceptions, so our best source of affirmation is ourselves. If we perceive ourselves as confident, intelligent, funny, beautiful, sexy, and just generally wonderful people, then we will be. But we don't. We're always looking for someone else to tell us what to love about ourselves. I say "we", but maybe I'm just speaking for "me". I hope not.
And there goes the insecurity. My mind just manifested an imagined world where I'm the only screwed up person. I know that's not true. I know it's not. I know it's not. Please, don't interrupt my litany; it's the only thing that keeps me from breaking down. Don't contradict me with your silence. Someone tell me I'm not the only one.
You know...until someone answers, I'm just talking to myself. That's scary. I talk to myself a lot. I call it "thinking aloud". I've done it ever since I can remember. It's gotten to the point where I almost can't think in my head anymore. I have to sound it out or write it down. Sometimes, I think about that and I wonder if I'm not crazy. I know what someone else would think if they walked in on me while I was "thinking".
But why should I care what someone else thinks? At this point in my life, I am who I'm always going to be, right? So, if someone doesn't like it, they're not worth wasting my time. Oh, how effortlessly those words come out. As if doing it were as easy as saying it. I only wish.
See why I hate when it's quiet up there? It's almost as chaotic as the alternative. At least if I have all this other stuff running around in my head, there's little room left over for the inevitable self doubt. Well, until things get back to normal, I guess I'll have to sit here and talk to myself, reassure myself that my usual company is not gone for good. That is, of course, unless you would like to join the conversation...
Shouldn't I just be quiet every once in a while? I know there are some who wish I would. How can I be quiet? I have been for so long. I have a lot of lost time to make up for. That's why sometimes I speak even when I have nothing to say. Or maybe it's because I think some might see my silence as a weakness. I have many weaknesses. I like to hide as many of them as I can.
Isn't that funny? As humans, we are inherently flawed creatures, but we don't like others to know about our individual flaws. Shouldn't it be good enough for them to know that my main flaw is that I'm human? I think we think too much. At least, I know I do. Well, maybe it's better to say I think too much about some things and not enough about others. Does it balance out somehow in the end?
See? We're always seeking external affirmation. What's wrong with us? We know that reality is based on perceptions, so our best source of affirmation is ourselves. If we perceive ourselves as confident, intelligent, funny, beautiful, sexy, and just generally wonderful people, then we will be. But we don't. We're always looking for someone else to tell us what to love about ourselves. I say "we", but maybe I'm just speaking for "me". I hope not.
And there goes the insecurity. My mind just manifested an imagined world where I'm the only screwed up person. I know that's not true. I know it's not. I know it's not. Please, don't interrupt my litany; it's the only thing that keeps me from breaking down. Don't contradict me with your silence. Someone tell me I'm not the only one.
You know...until someone answers, I'm just talking to myself. That's scary. I talk to myself a lot. I call it "thinking aloud". I've done it ever since I can remember. It's gotten to the point where I almost can't think in my head anymore. I have to sound it out or write it down. Sometimes, I think about that and I wonder if I'm not crazy. I know what someone else would think if they walked in on me while I was "thinking".
But why should I care what someone else thinks? At this point in my life, I am who I'm always going to be, right? So, if someone doesn't like it, they're not worth wasting my time. Oh, how effortlessly those words come out. As if doing it were as easy as saying it. I only wish.
See why I hate when it's quiet up there? It's almost as chaotic as the alternative. At least if I have all this other stuff running around in my head, there's little room left over for the inevitable self doubt. Well, until things get back to normal, I guess I'll have to sit here and talk to myself, reassure myself that my usual company is not gone for good. That is, of course, unless you would like to join the conversation...
Saturday, November 12, 2005
Speaking of Dumb Questions...
Back in the early infancy of this blog (and I have to specify early infancy because it is still quite young), I wrote a post about stupid questions. I said that there did indeed have to be stupid questions, otherwise we would have to conclude that there are just a whole bunch of stupid people. I mean, I guess we can still come to that conclusion if we like, but I like to at least start out giving people the benefit of the doubt.
In a later post, I spoke about government, politics, faith, and religion. Somewhere in there, I mentioned in passing a question that has been asked by many to call into question the omnipotence of God. I dismissed the question then, but I would like to address it now. And before some of you start worrying about how the rest of this post is going to go, don't. This is merely a hypothetical philosophical discussion that I think anyone, regardless of his or her beliefs, will enjoy.
The question I am referencing, of course, is the one that begs whether God is capable of creating a stone so heavy that he himself could not lift it. When I mentioned it many posts ago, I said that the question simply shows the inability of a creation to understand the incomprehensible nature of its creator. I've come to believe, however, that it's even more basic than that.
God is supposed to be an omnipotent being. This is why the question is asked. If he were capable of making such a stone, it indicates a limit to his power. Likewise, if he couldn't, he is once again limited. But let us, for a moment, remove the identity of this being. Let us instead ask if any omnipotent being could do this. Or more accurately, let's ask if the meaning of omnipotence includes having the ability of one so endowed to create objects heavier than he can lift.
Humans are pretty funny. We spend so much time trying to alter the environment to suit our needs, tastes and whims. In the end, all of what we do in the physical world is insignificant in the grand scheme of things. We are hardly omnipotent, but we pretty frequently make things that are too heavy for us to lift. If we can do it, and do it quite handily, shouldn't a being infinitely more powerful than us be able to do it?
Before we get all high and mighty and say, "Aha! We can make objects so heavy even we can't lift them! Take THAT, omnipotent being," let's just think about this for a moment. Being able to accomplish this task only shows us how weak we really are. Wouldn't it be nice if members of land survey committees could just pick up a skyscraper with their bare hands and move it over just slightly if it overlapped city property? Wouldn't we really be something if we could effortlessly hurl the SUV that stole our parking space?
But that's the point, isn't it? What do I gain from arguing the above? If, by this argument, I'm claiming that said omnipotent being couldn't make an object heavier than she could lift, am I not also claiming a limit to that omnipotence?
Ah! Well, now we come to it. What does omnipotent mean? Houghton-Mifflin has this to say on the matter:
om·nip'·o·tent
Adjective:
~ Having unlimited or universal power, authority, or force; all-powerful.
Ok now, using this definition of omnipotence, let me rephrase the question to say what it is truly asking:
Does an all-powerful being also have the power to limit his own power?
If we answer yes to this, then the moment this being exercises this power, he strips himself of his omnipotence and is, therefore, no longer all-powerful. So, here we go again, around in a circle, right? Well, think about it. What kind of limitation is there really to not being able to do anything that in some way exceeds at least one of your other abilities?
Let me put it this way, what if God can't make a stone so heavy that even he can't lift it? That means that not only could God make a stone of infinite volume and density (i.e. mass) and the requisite source of gravity to make the force of weight appropriately infinite, but he could also lift that very same stone. Omnipotence is pretty cool, isn't it?
What it comes down to is that we have a basic misunderstanding of the word omnipotence. Because of the nature of our language, we're able to make paradoxical statements. For example, what is the truth value of the following statement: this statement is false. If it's true, it's false and vice versa. Obviously, such statements are anomalies caused by the rules of syntax and how we represent words in our minds. The truth value of the statement is moot because no one would ever be inspired to state it as a self-contained statement in a real-world situation. Likewise, as incomprehensible as God's will supposedly is, I am quite certain that such a being would not engage himself in such an endeavor as is posed by the question we're talking about.
So, when you come right down to it, I seem to be saying that God cannot make a stone so heavy that he can't lift it, right?
Right.
So, that does mean there's a limit to his power, Right?
Well, I suppose, technically.
But then, that means he's not omnipotent, right?
No.
Huh?
Okay...here's my proposed solution. We need to redefine the word omnipotent because that is really where the problem is. I'm sorry, but not being able to limit your own power is no kind of limit. Here is my new proposed definition:
om·nip'·o·tent
Adjective:
~ Having the power, authority, or force to do anything and everything aside from anything that minimalizes or contradicts that power; essentially all-powerful.
It may not be perfect, but there it is. Also, just as a note, this is not meant to be a proof of God's existence nor a proof of his omnipotence if he does indeed exist. This is actually a proof of the inadequacy of our understanding of the nature of omnipotence. In essence, we are impotent to comprehend omnipotence...whatever that means.
In a later post, I spoke about government, politics, faith, and religion. Somewhere in there, I mentioned in passing a question that has been asked by many to call into question the omnipotence of God. I dismissed the question then, but I would like to address it now. And before some of you start worrying about how the rest of this post is going to go, don't. This is merely a hypothetical philosophical discussion that I think anyone, regardless of his or her beliefs, will enjoy.
The question I am referencing, of course, is the one that begs whether God is capable of creating a stone so heavy that he himself could not lift it. When I mentioned it many posts ago, I said that the question simply shows the inability of a creation to understand the incomprehensible nature of its creator. I've come to believe, however, that it's even more basic than that.
God is supposed to be an omnipotent being. This is why the question is asked. If he were capable of making such a stone, it indicates a limit to his power. Likewise, if he couldn't, he is once again limited. But let us, for a moment, remove the identity of this being. Let us instead ask if any omnipotent being could do this. Or more accurately, let's ask if the meaning of omnipotence includes having the ability of one so endowed to create objects heavier than he can lift.
Humans are pretty funny. We spend so much time trying to alter the environment to suit our needs, tastes and whims. In the end, all of what we do in the physical world is insignificant in the grand scheme of things. We are hardly omnipotent, but we pretty frequently make things that are too heavy for us to lift. If we can do it, and do it quite handily, shouldn't a being infinitely more powerful than us be able to do it?
Before we get all high and mighty and say, "Aha! We can make objects so heavy even we can't lift them! Take THAT, omnipotent being," let's just think about this for a moment. Being able to accomplish this task only shows us how weak we really are. Wouldn't it be nice if members of land survey committees could just pick up a skyscraper with their bare hands and move it over just slightly if it overlapped city property? Wouldn't we really be something if we could effortlessly hurl the SUV that stole our parking space?
But that's the point, isn't it? What do I gain from arguing the above? If, by this argument, I'm claiming that said omnipotent being couldn't make an object heavier than she could lift, am I not also claiming a limit to that omnipotence?
Ah! Well, now we come to it. What does omnipotent mean? Houghton-Mifflin has this to say on the matter:
om·nip'·o·tent
Adjective:
~ Having unlimited or universal power, authority, or force; all-powerful.
Ok now, using this definition of omnipotence, let me rephrase the question to say what it is truly asking:
Does an all-powerful being also have the power to limit his own power?
If we answer yes to this, then the moment this being exercises this power, he strips himself of his omnipotence and is, therefore, no longer all-powerful. So, here we go again, around in a circle, right? Well, think about it. What kind of limitation is there really to not being able to do anything that in some way exceeds at least one of your other abilities?
Let me put it this way, what if God can't make a stone so heavy that even he can't lift it? That means that not only could God make a stone of infinite volume and density (i.e. mass) and the requisite source of gravity to make the force of weight appropriately infinite, but he could also lift that very same stone. Omnipotence is pretty cool, isn't it?
What it comes down to is that we have a basic misunderstanding of the word omnipotence. Because of the nature of our language, we're able to make paradoxical statements. For example, what is the truth value of the following statement: this statement is false. If it's true, it's false and vice versa. Obviously, such statements are anomalies caused by the rules of syntax and how we represent words in our minds. The truth value of the statement is moot because no one would ever be inspired to state it as a self-contained statement in a real-world situation. Likewise, as incomprehensible as God's will supposedly is, I am quite certain that such a being would not engage himself in such an endeavor as is posed by the question we're talking about.
So, when you come right down to it, I seem to be saying that God cannot make a stone so heavy that he can't lift it, right?
Right.
So, that does mean there's a limit to his power, Right?
Well, I suppose, technically.
But then, that means he's not omnipotent, right?
No.
Huh?
Okay...here's my proposed solution. We need to redefine the word omnipotent because that is really where the problem is. I'm sorry, but not being able to limit your own power is no kind of limit. Here is my new proposed definition:
om·nip'·o·tent
Adjective:
~ Having the power, authority, or force to do anything and everything aside from anything that minimalizes or contradicts that power; essentially all-powerful.
It may not be perfect, but there it is. Also, just as a note, this is not meant to be a proof of God's existence nor a proof of his omnipotence if he does indeed exist. This is actually a proof of the inadequacy of our understanding of the nature of omnipotence. In essence, we are impotent to comprehend omnipotence...whatever that means.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Good vs. Evil
The deep rumble of thunder reverberates across the barren countryside. A shadow looms over the craggy desert landscape as dark clouds fill the sky from seemingly nowhere. Pulsating flashes of light illuminate portions of the dense ceiling, revealing illusions of flickering shapes that skitter along the ground. The air grows heavy with a sudden stifling humidity and a sense that something other than a simple summer storm is afoot.
Soon, the sky's thick shroud obscures the corpse of the land from sight. The intermittent flashes of lightening reveal glimpses of the macabre features below. Jagged formations of red stone jut from the uneven ground, and here and there great gashes in the earth open to depths unseeable. The wounded desert floor ripples and heaves as the spidering veins of electric light in the sky inspire the shadows to take up a lively, if stilted, dance.
Slowly, as the ancient wounds stretch, the very blood of the land rises up to the surface. In its bright yellows, oranges and reds it oozes up through the cracks, steaming from the earth's body heat. And there, crawling from the tainted blood as if a parasitic infection, an angular perversion of all that is natural stretches its oddly-jointed limbs in the open for the first time in millennia. With a gaping yawn, the beast reveals row upon row of perfectly-aligned and deadly sharp fangs. Its eyes glow with the same hue of the fiery lake to which it and its brethren were condemned in a time before written history.
All around, more of these creatures, different in shape but similar in utter contradiction to what had been intended by Him, emerge from the earthblood and flex their tortured joints and muscles. Hell is emptying upon the world, and its inhabitants are ready to exercise their demonic will. Woe be unto the heirs of God's creation on this day of Armageddon.
A light of brightness and purity not seen in two millennia cleaves through the churning blackness above, blinding to those who shun it but enlightening to those who embrace it. The celestial radiance streaks outward in all directions and casts away the troubled sky. The creatures on the ground shrink back in terror, the light burning their otherwise impervious skin.
As the intensity fades, figures can be seen approaching on beams of holy luminance. Astride heavenly steeds of righteousness, the seraphim boldly gallop forth, incarnations of God's perfection of beauty. At their head rides the son of man, His gleaming sword pointing the way, its fateful edge hungry to unleash His wrath upon the wicked.
Arrows of the seraphim, blessed by the very will of God, precede them to the ground, each perfectly aimed to vanquish one of Satan's minions. Lightning infused with His fury erupts from His sword and lays low many a demon. Evil scrambles to be out of the Lord's sight, but there is no place to hide from Him that is called I AM. The devil's soldiers are sent one by one to the only place worse than that from whence they came, their wickedness stripped away. For how can one be wicked when one can no longer be at all?
Almost as quickly as they appeared, the interlopers are gone, dispelled by the power of Him. Up from the lifeless ground springs miraculous greenery, nourished by the light of the Lord. Here they will stand, these cousins of the garden, as guardians over this land, keeping Hell locked in the fire until God Himself decides that the end of time has come. Once again, unbeknownst to His mortal children, premature apocalypse has been turned aside.
*****
Since the beginning of recorded history, and we assume before it as well, humans have been fascinated by the battle between good and evil. It's an ongoing struggle that has raged for millennia and will continue until the end of time. There are some who believe this battle is as concrete and unambiguous as the one described above, but in reality, the various complexities of the good-evil dynamic are tough to pin down. If we want to better understand these standards to which we hold ourselves, we need to figure out where they came from and what their purpose is.
The Christian bible tells us that knowledge of good and evil was imparted to humanity when Eve disobeyed God and ate from the tree that He forbade. She shared this fruit with Adam, hence condemning all future generations of humans to suffer the wages of sin. The story of Adam and Eve, while fascinating mythology, simply cannot be a literal accounting of history. Several obvious logistical problems contraindicate its veracity. Many of these problems are presented elsewhere, so they will not be included here.
So, if we accept that the story of Adam and Eve is mythology, where did the concepts of good and evil come from? Cultures all over the world, some without any exposure to the biblical origins of sin, have a general agreement with each other on what constitutes a good or evil act. Clearly, there is something deep within the human psyche, perhaps something instinctual, that separates these two concepts for us.
Recent research has revealed that humans (and, interestingly enough, macaque monkeys) have an area of the brain that appears to be dedicated to empathy. Specifically localized brain activity suggests that when we see others of our species in pain or pleasure, we simulate the event in our minds, placing ourselves in the situation. This simulation causes a chain reaction that results in sympathetic emotions, as if we were experiencing the event ourselves. People shown images of one of their own in distress ended up having brain activity similar to what would occur if they were in distress as well, likewise for images of happiness and pleasure.
Either way, empathy is certainly a crucial element in our understanding of good and evil. It evokes a "treat others as you would like to be treated" philosophy. Indeed, much of what is considered evil involves bringing harm to others. Murder, thievery and adultery, all fairly prominent in their persistence as acts that are considered sinful, are certainly events that bring people distress. Being instinctually empathetic creatures, we wish to avoid inflicting this distress on others because we are able to manufacture within ourselves the resultant emotions, and we don't like them.
It seems strange that nature would imbue us with something as complex as empathy. After a bit of thought, though, it should become clear why such a trait would be beneficial. Humans typically live in communities. We interact with each other on a regular basis and, for the most part, depend upon each other for survival. Even though one of us is capable of surviving alone, it is obvious by simple observation that we are communal creatures by nature.
Being communal creatures, our chances of mutual survival are maximized when we are able to cooperate with optimal efficiency. Certainly, it is a lot easier to coordinate between individuals who are capable of understanding to some degree the emotional mindset of others. A community is easier to keep together when members generally forgo violent competition with one another because they not only want to avoid distress to themselves, but also to avoid feeling the distress of others. These are just a couple of the reasons why empathy is an advantageous adaptation.
Empathy, however, cannot be the whole picture. Not everyone seems to have the ability to interpret empathy accurately. The most extreme example is seen in individuals with autism. The study mentioned above showed that the same brain activity was not observed in autistic subjects. This may be one of the reasons autistic individuals don't seem to be able to foresee the consequences of their actions. The part of their brains that simulates circumstances to their end results doesn't function properly.
Still, even some without autism seem able to remorselessly commit acts that defy the idea of empathy. There are many factors aside from empathy that dictate people's actions. Given this fact, what is it that prevents us from overriding our empathic judgment? Is there another major influence that determines how we interpret good acts versus evil acts?
Self preservation is a good candidate for this secondary influence. As communal beings, it is in our interest to protect those in our community, if for no other reason than so that they return the favor. This common interest brings about the formation of values and morals, an agreed upon code that protects the health and well being of the community as a whole. Any violation of this code usually carries some undesirable consequence for the offender.
Really, empathy and self preservation provoke one another. It is the general empathic concurrence of a society that determines what the code of morals will be and what the consequences are for violators, and it is the selfish interest of personal safety and well being that ensures that we listen to our empathic voice, even if immediate circumstances are inspiring us otherwise. A sense of self preservation indicates at least a basic ability to understand when our safety is threatened by a potentially dangerous situation. A sense of empathy indicates the same understanding about the safety of other individuals.
In conclusion, the difference between basic good and evil is not only perceptual, but it is also fundamentally based on a selfish desire to remain content and safe. Empathy causes us to be in distress when we witness others in distress. It is a mechanism without which we would not have a moral code for society. We would only have our sense of self preservation to guide us, meaning we could watch others suffering without emotion as long as our own safety was ensured. Even with empathy, we shun evil acts only to protect our physical, emotional and mental well being, while we engage in good acts to promote the same. Regardless, its side effects work out for the benefit of the entire community, which helps make us a very successful species, meaning that the concepts of good and evil are likely to be around for a very long time.
Soon, the sky's thick shroud obscures the corpse of the land from sight. The intermittent flashes of lightening reveal glimpses of the macabre features below. Jagged formations of red stone jut from the uneven ground, and here and there great gashes in the earth open to depths unseeable. The wounded desert floor ripples and heaves as the spidering veins of electric light in the sky inspire the shadows to take up a lively, if stilted, dance.
Slowly, as the ancient wounds stretch, the very blood of the land rises up to the surface. In its bright yellows, oranges and reds it oozes up through the cracks, steaming from the earth's body heat. And there, crawling from the tainted blood as if a parasitic infection, an angular perversion of all that is natural stretches its oddly-jointed limbs in the open for the first time in millennia. With a gaping yawn, the beast reveals row upon row of perfectly-aligned and deadly sharp fangs. Its eyes glow with the same hue of the fiery lake to which it and its brethren were condemned in a time before written history.
All around, more of these creatures, different in shape but similar in utter contradiction to what had been intended by Him, emerge from the earthblood and flex their tortured joints and muscles. Hell is emptying upon the world, and its inhabitants are ready to exercise their demonic will. Woe be unto the heirs of God's creation on this day of Armageddon.
A light of brightness and purity not seen in two millennia cleaves through the churning blackness above, blinding to those who shun it but enlightening to those who embrace it. The celestial radiance streaks outward in all directions and casts away the troubled sky. The creatures on the ground shrink back in terror, the light burning their otherwise impervious skin.
As the intensity fades, figures can be seen approaching on beams of holy luminance. Astride heavenly steeds of righteousness, the seraphim boldly gallop forth, incarnations of God's perfection of beauty. At their head rides the son of man, His gleaming sword pointing the way, its fateful edge hungry to unleash His wrath upon the wicked.
Arrows of the seraphim, blessed by the very will of God, precede them to the ground, each perfectly aimed to vanquish one of Satan's minions. Lightning infused with His fury erupts from His sword and lays low many a demon. Evil scrambles to be out of the Lord's sight, but there is no place to hide from Him that is called I AM. The devil's soldiers are sent one by one to the only place worse than that from whence they came, their wickedness stripped away. For how can one be wicked when one can no longer be at all?
Almost as quickly as they appeared, the interlopers are gone, dispelled by the power of Him. Up from the lifeless ground springs miraculous greenery, nourished by the light of the Lord. Here they will stand, these cousins of the garden, as guardians over this land, keeping Hell locked in the fire until God Himself decides that the end of time has come. Once again, unbeknownst to His mortal children, premature apocalypse has been turned aside.
Since the beginning of recorded history, and we assume before it as well, humans have been fascinated by the battle between good and evil. It's an ongoing struggle that has raged for millennia and will continue until the end of time. There are some who believe this battle is as concrete and unambiguous as the one described above, but in reality, the various complexities of the good-evil dynamic are tough to pin down. If we want to better understand these standards to which we hold ourselves, we need to figure out where they came from and what their purpose is.
The Christian bible tells us that knowledge of good and evil was imparted to humanity when Eve disobeyed God and ate from the tree that He forbade. She shared this fruit with Adam, hence condemning all future generations of humans to suffer the wages of sin. The story of Adam and Eve, while fascinating mythology, simply cannot be a literal accounting of history. Several obvious logistical problems contraindicate its veracity. Many of these problems are presented elsewhere, so they will not be included here.
So, if we accept that the story of Adam and Eve is mythology, where did the concepts of good and evil come from? Cultures all over the world, some without any exposure to the biblical origins of sin, have a general agreement with each other on what constitutes a good or evil act. Clearly, there is something deep within the human psyche, perhaps something instinctual, that separates these two concepts for us.
Recent research has revealed that humans (and, interestingly enough, macaque monkeys) have an area of the brain that appears to be dedicated to empathy. Specifically localized brain activity suggests that when we see others of our species in pain or pleasure, we simulate the event in our minds, placing ourselves in the situation. This simulation causes a chain reaction that results in sympathetic emotions, as if we were experiencing the event ourselves. People shown images of one of their own in distress ended up having brain activity similar to what would occur if they were in distress as well, likewise for images of happiness and pleasure.
Either way, empathy is certainly a crucial element in our understanding of good and evil. It evokes a "treat others as you would like to be treated" philosophy. Indeed, much of what is considered evil involves bringing harm to others. Murder, thievery and adultery, all fairly prominent in their persistence as acts that are considered sinful, are certainly events that bring people distress. Being instinctually empathetic creatures, we wish to avoid inflicting this distress on others because we are able to manufacture within ourselves the resultant emotions, and we don't like them.
It seems strange that nature would imbue us with something as complex as empathy. After a bit of thought, though, it should become clear why such a trait would be beneficial. Humans typically live in communities. We interact with each other on a regular basis and, for the most part, depend upon each other for survival. Even though one of us is capable of surviving alone, it is obvious by simple observation that we are communal creatures by nature.
Being communal creatures, our chances of mutual survival are maximized when we are able to cooperate with optimal efficiency. Certainly, it is a lot easier to coordinate between individuals who are capable of understanding to some degree the emotional mindset of others. A community is easier to keep together when members generally forgo violent competition with one another because they not only want to avoid distress to themselves, but also to avoid feeling the distress of others. These are just a couple of the reasons why empathy is an advantageous adaptation.
Empathy, however, cannot be the whole picture. Not everyone seems to have the ability to interpret empathy accurately. The most extreme example is seen in individuals with autism. The study mentioned above showed that the same brain activity was not observed in autistic subjects. This may be one of the reasons autistic individuals don't seem to be able to foresee the consequences of their actions. The part of their brains that simulates circumstances to their end results doesn't function properly.
Still, even some without autism seem able to remorselessly commit acts that defy the idea of empathy. There are many factors aside from empathy that dictate people's actions. Given this fact, what is it that prevents us from overriding our empathic judgment? Is there another major influence that determines how we interpret good acts versus evil acts?
Self preservation is a good candidate for this secondary influence. As communal beings, it is in our interest to protect those in our community, if for no other reason than so that they return the favor. This common interest brings about the formation of values and morals, an agreed upon code that protects the health and well being of the community as a whole. Any violation of this code usually carries some undesirable consequence for the offender.
Really, empathy and self preservation provoke one another. It is the general empathic concurrence of a society that determines what the code of morals will be and what the consequences are for violators, and it is the selfish interest of personal safety and well being that ensures that we listen to our empathic voice, even if immediate circumstances are inspiring us otherwise. A sense of self preservation indicates at least a basic ability to understand when our safety is threatened by a potentially dangerous situation. A sense of empathy indicates the same understanding about the safety of other individuals.
In conclusion, the difference between basic good and evil is not only perceptual, but it is also fundamentally based on a selfish desire to remain content and safe. Empathy causes us to be in distress when we witness others in distress. It is a mechanism without which we would not have a moral code for society. We would only have our sense of self preservation to guide us, meaning we could watch others suffering without emotion as long as our own safety was ensured. Even with empathy, we shun evil acts only to protect our physical, emotional and mental well being, while we engage in good acts to promote the same. Regardless, its side effects work out for the benefit of the entire community, which helps make us a very successful species, meaning that the concepts of good and evil are likely to be around for a very long time.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Vanessa's Reflection
Okay, everybody. I have something a little different for you today. It's a bit long, 42 pages according to Word, but I think it's decent. Many posts ago, I mentioned being suddenly inspired before getting my hair cut. Well, this is the story that came from that inspiration. I posted a link to it because it's far too long to put up here. If you'd like to see how I perform in the genre of drama, check it out. It's about a young, professional woman who finds out that going to great lengths to change her appearance "for the better" may not have been worth all the trouble.
Vanesa's Reflection
Vanesa's Reflection
Friday, October 28, 2005
Don'tcha Hate It...
Okay, let me just say, I'm not a comedian. Sure, every once in a while, I come up with a zinger, but I don't have the comedic stamina to do it for any length of time in front of an audience. That said, I want to make it clear that this is not intended to be one of those lists that seems to become spam fodder in your inbox. These are some things that I've realized really bug me, and I thought I'd share. I'm sure you'll sympathize with a few.
Now, I don't want to make anyone feel bad, not that I think enough people read this blog to make a difference, and not to diminish the people who do read this blog, which I thank you few for, by the way, nor do I wish to imply that I feel as negatively as the word "hate" would indicate, but I hate people who have to preface everything they say with some long, nested, parenthetical disclaimer...which I guess means I hate myself, but let's move on.
I'm not really a phone guy. I think guys in general have been accused of not being "phone people". Because I know I'm not a phone guy, I'm kind of self conscious on the phone. This causes me to speak softly. Well, the point is, I really hate when people call me "ma'am" on the phone. It happens all the time, mostly at work. I don't think I have a particularly effeminate or high-pitched voice. I can only imagine that the people who call me ma'am are picturing me as a 65 year old woman with a lifelong smoking habit. Who knows?
Going along with the idea of being self conscious, I hate missing the opportunity to be friendly to people I don't know. Granted, people I don't know make me a little shy, but it's something I have been working on for many years. One of the things that I think doesn't help is my natural facial expression. When my face is relaxed, I tend to look mad or broody. If may face happens to be relaxed, I'm probably not talking, and if I'm not talking, I'm thinking. Sometimes I get lost in thought, and that's when the missed opportunity to be nice occurs.
Let me give you an example. The other day, I was leaving work for lunch. There was this family in the atrium, and they had this little girl with them. She must've been five, maybe six, and she was wearing a cast. Despite the cast, she was just as happy as could be. As her family left, she stood at the foot of the stairs smiling and waving at me. She was the cutest darn thing...but I only realized that after I had snapped out of my spaciness. I saw her waving bye at me out of the corner of my eye, and by the time I brought my attention to her, her family was calling her out the door, probably to get her away from the guy coming down the stairs looking like a serial killer.
Happens all the time. I'm spacing out, and some friendly stranger nods and says, "Hey." By the time I snap back to reality, the other person is walking off wondering what the hell my problem is. That's me. I got what you call charisma.
Along the same line, I think a lot. So, I have that spacey, broody look pretty frequently. Sometimes, it's more persistent than others. Sometimes, when I'm particularly thoughtful, I'm moody too. Actually, it's probably the other way around; I get thoughtful when I'm moody. Why do I get moody? Who knows? Men have a hormonal cycle too, though it's not nearly as severe as women's. Sometimes, it's just my time of the month, and I get irritable, dammit.
This is an equation for potential disaster. Well, maybe not disaster, but it can definitely be an issue. I know when I'm moody, and I don't like it. Usually there's nothing going on in my life to be moody about. So, I hate it when people start asking me, "What's wrong?" Actually, I don't hate that. What I hate is when people insist that something is wrong after I've told them that I'm fine. They continue to ask if I'm alright, even though I've reassured them that I am.
Don't get me wrong, it really feels good to know that people are concerned with my well being, but when I say I'm fine, please believe me. Even of I just don't want to talk about it, I'll probably want to later. More often than not, though, it's just me being irritable. Trust me, it really isn't worth the worry.
Okay...all this self analysis is making me moody, so let's move on.
I hate garbage water. I know, I know, the last couple sounded so serious. Now I follow up with garbage water? But you don't understand...I REALLY hate garbage water. You know, you're taking out the garbage and then -- Splat! You pull back your hand, which now smells like it's been marinating in rancid banana peel-flavored espresso, or coke-soaked baby diapers, and find that you have nothing to wipe it on because you're outside. Thank goodness for antibacterial hand gel, but you still have to give them a good washing to get rid of the scent of coffee grounds and orange soda.
Another thing that really gets on my nerves is people who drive SUV's as if they were Porsche test drivers. Listen, I'm glad you have enough cash flow to fill up every two miles, but for me, gas is way too expensive to floor it and slam on the breaks at every traffic light. I think that if you're fuel efficiency is rated in gallons to the mile, it doesn't hurt to be a little conservative on the road. Not to mention that if I'm in front of you when you're breaks go out, you're not even going to notice you hit me. Meanwhile, I'm going to be hitching my way to the hospital clutching a steering wheel and a hubcap, the only remains of my car.
I could go on for pages, but I'm afraid you might start to think me a cynic. I assure you that I love more things than I hate. I love my wife. I love my friends and family. I love the quiet hours I spend hacking away at my keyboard. I love sudden, powerful bursts of inspiration. I love tira misu. I love a good Italian Pinot Grigio. I love the universe and all of its fascinating quirks, even the one's that bring about the things I hate. And I love...life.
Now, I don't want to make anyone feel bad, not that I think enough people read this blog to make a difference, and not to diminish the people who do read this blog, which I thank you few for, by the way, nor do I wish to imply that I feel as negatively as the word "hate" would indicate, but I hate people who have to preface everything they say with some long, nested, parenthetical disclaimer...which I guess means I hate myself, but let's move on.
I'm not really a phone guy. I think guys in general have been accused of not being "phone people". Because I know I'm not a phone guy, I'm kind of self conscious on the phone. This causes me to speak softly. Well, the point is, I really hate when people call me "ma'am" on the phone. It happens all the time, mostly at work. I don't think I have a particularly effeminate or high-pitched voice. I can only imagine that the people who call me ma'am are picturing me as a 65 year old woman with a lifelong smoking habit. Who knows?
Going along with the idea of being self conscious, I hate missing the opportunity to be friendly to people I don't know. Granted, people I don't know make me a little shy, but it's something I have been working on for many years. One of the things that I think doesn't help is my natural facial expression. When my face is relaxed, I tend to look mad or broody. If may face happens to be relaxed, I'm probably not talking, and if I'm not talking, I'm thinking. Sometimes I get lost in thought, and that's when the missed opportunity to be nice occurs.
Let me give you an example. The other day, I was leaving work for lunch. There was this family in the atrium, and they had this little girl with them. She must've been five, maybe six, and she was wearing a cast. Despite the cast, she was just as happy as could be. As her family left, she stood at the foot of the stairs smiling and waving at me. She was the cutest darn thing...but I only realized that after I had snapped out of my spaciness. I saw her waving bye at me out of the corner of my eye, and by the time I brought my attention to her, her family was calling her out the door, probably to get her away from the guy coming down the stairs looking like a serial killer.
Happens all the time. I'm spacing out, and some friendly stranger nods and says, "Hey." By the time I snap back to reality, the other person is walking off wondering what the hell my problem is. That's me. I got what you call charisma.
Along the same line, I think a lot. So, I have that spacey, broody look pretty frequently. Sometimes, it's more persistent than others. Sometimes, when I'm particularly thoughtful, I'm moody too. Actually, it's probably the other way around; I get thoughtful when I'm moody. Why do I get moody? Who knows? Men have a hormonal cycle too, though it's not nearly as severe as women's. Sometimes, it's just my time of the month, and I get irritable, dammit.
This is an equation for potential disaster. Well, maybe not disaster, but it can definitely be an issue. I know when I'm moody, and I don't like it. Usually there's nothing going on in my life to be moody about. So, I hate it when people start asking me, "What's wrong?" Actually, I don't hate that. What I hate is when people insist that something is wrong after I've told them that I'm fine. They continue to ask if I'm alright, even though I've reassured them that I am.
Don't get me wrong, it really feels good to know that people are concerned with my well being, but when I say I'm fine, please believe me. Even of I just don't want to talk about it, I'll probably want to later. More often than not, though, it's just me being irritable. Trust me, it really isn't worth the worry.
Okay...all this self analysis is making me moody, so let's move on.
I hate garbage water. I know, I know, the last couple sounded so serious. Now I follow up with garbage water? But you don't understand...I REALLY hate garbage water. You know, you're taking out the garbage and then -- Splat! You pull back your hand, which now smells like it's been marinating in rancid banana peel-flavored espresso, or coke-soaked baby diapers, and find that you have nothing to wipe it on because you're outside. Thank goodness for antibacterial hand gel, but you still have to give them a good washing to get rid of the scent of coffee grounds and orange soda.
Another thing that really gets on my nerves is people who drive SUV's as if they were Porsche test drivers. Listen, I'm glad you have enough cash flow to fill up every two miles, but for me, gas is way too expensive to floor it and slam on the breaks at every traffic light. I think that if you're fuel efficiency is rated in gallons to the mile, it doesn't hurt to be a little conservative on the road. Not to mention that if I'm in front of you when you're breaks go out, you're not even going to notice you hit me. Meanwhile, I'm going to be hitching my way to the hospital clutching a steering wheel and a hubcap, the only remains of my car.
I could go on for pages, but I'm afraid you might start to think me a cynic. I assure you that I love more things than I hate. I love my wife. I love my friends and family. I love the quiet hours I spend hacking away at my keyboard. I love sudden, powerful bursts of inspiration. I love tira misu. I love a good Italian Pinot Grigio. I love the universe and all of its fascinating quirks, even the one's that bring about the things I hate. And I love...life.
Meet Marty
Hi all. I've got a new link for everyone to check out. Marty, a friend of mine, decided to start his own blog. It's kind of small for now, but Marty's a sharp guy. Give it time. He's one of these people who thinks a whole lot about stuff, just like me. You'll be able to tell from his first post, he's deep.
lifeismaya.blogspot.com
lifeismaya.blogspot.com
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Neurotic? Me?
The following story is fictional, but it is also semiautobiographical. If I were to visit a therapist, this is how I imagine it would go down.
This'll probably explain a few things...
*****
FADE IN:
INT. THERAPIST'S OFFICE LATE AFTERNOON
Muted grayish-beige paint covers the upper portion of the wall while the lower portion is clad in an elaborate dark cherry wainscoting. Afternoon light pours through the slats of expensive Venetian blinds, illuminating a large mahogany desk that sits at the back of the room and providing comfortable lighting to the rest of the office. Two looming bookcases flank the window. A few more bookcases are spaced along the walls, including one behind an expensive, leather-upholstered chair. A matching cherry settee sprawls comfortably across from the chair.
In the chair sits DR. EMIL SKODA, a late middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper moustache and goatee and wearing glasses. On the settee lays JEFF, a thin, young man with dark brown hair, blue eyes and a slightly rounded nose.
SKODA
JEFF
(after some thought)
SKODA
JEFF
(shrugs)
SKODA
JEFF
(laughs and shakes head)
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
(nods)
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
(shrugs)
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
(shakes head)
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
(beat)
SKODA
JEFF
(snickers)
SKODA
(smiles)
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
(shrugs)
SKODA
JEFF
(nods)
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA jots several notes in a notebook that sits on his lap.
SKODA
(nodding)
JEFF
SKODA
(nods)
JEFF sits up, a concerned look on his face.
JEFF
SKODA
JEFF
SKODA
(stands)
JEFF stands and walks over to SKODA and shakes his hand.
JEFF
(nodding)
SKODA smiles and JEFF exits the office headed for the front desk.THE END
Note: As I said in the beginning, the above is a work of fiction. For those of you who recognized the name, Dr. Emil Skoda is a recurring character played by J.K. Simmons on the TV legal drama "Law & Order". He doesn't look anything like how I described him up top, but that's one of the great things about fiction: I don't have to ensure accuracy.
Speaking of accuracy, I think it's important to note that I am not a licensed therapist, nor do I have a Ph.D. in psychology or an M.D. in psychiatric medicine. The method of diagnosis used by Skoda above and the resultant recommendations are not, to my knowledge, specifically endorsed by any healthcare professional.
Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), however, can be a serious problem and is estimated to affect as many as 5,000,000 Americans. If you feel you may be suffering from GAD, please consult your primary healthcare provider. He or she will be able to refer you to a professional who can help.
This'll probably explain a few things...
FADE IN:
INT. THERAPIST'S OFFICE LATE AFTERNOON
Muted grayish-beige paint covers the upper portion of the wall while the lower portion is clad in an elaborate dark cherry wainscoting. Afternoon light pours through the slats of expensive Venetian blinds, illuminating a large mahogany desk that sits at the back of the room and providing comfortable lighting to the rest of the office. Two looming bookcases flank the window. A few more bookcases are spaced along the walls, including one behind an expensive, leather-upholstered chair. A matching cherry settee sprawls comfortably across from the chair.
In the chair sits DR. EMIL SKODA, a late middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper moustache and goatee and wearing glasses. On the settee lays JEFF, a thin, young man with dark brown hair, blue eyes and a slightly rounded nose.
How are you feeling today, Jeffrey?
Oh, pretty good.
Pretty good?
Yeah. I mean, I had kind of a bad night earlier in the week, but I'm ok now.
What happened?
Well, I had this meeting in Orlando on Wednesday. I'd never been in the part of town where it was being held. So, I mapquested the directions and set out on the road.
Go on.
Well, the remains of rush hour traffic were already threatening to make me late, but once I got on the highway, things were going pretty well...until I was about halfway to my destination. I get off on this one exit, right, and there's blockades everywhere, flashing lights, and not a sign to be seen. It's a major road construction area.
Did you have to turn around?
No. That's just the thing, see? The road was still open going east and west, but because of the way everything was blocked off and the lack of signs, it was very confusing. I started going west, which was really the only direction that made any sense. But I thought I was looking for some other turn along the way. Mapquest's directions weren't totally clear on that. Well, after about five minutes, I became convinced that I was going the wrong way.
What convinced you?
I wish I could tell you. I always do this. Whenever I'm not sure of where I'm going, I start to second guess myself. It always ends up with me turning around prematurely and getting myself even more lost.
Is that what you did here?
I turned around, drove back to where I had gotten on this road, and I drove for another five minutes in the opposite direction. Doc, I did this four times...four!
What were you feeling as this was happening?
Well, I was convinced that the turn I had been looking for was blocked off. I was frustrated. Here I was on some road I didn't know. I wasn't in the city yet, so the nearest place I could stop for directions was miles away. I had no cell phone. After about second time going back and forth on this road, I got really mad.
Mad?
Yeah. Man, I was yelling, cursing...I was mad!
Can you tell me exactly what was the focus of your anger?
I don't know. Myself, I guess.
Yourself?
Maybe not at first. At first I think I was mad at the situation. But I've done this to myself a hundred times before. I knew the only reason I was in that situation was because I had put myself there.
So, what did you do?
Well, after I had yelled myself hoarse and had exhausted my four-letter-word vocabulary, I decided to get a grip. I turned around the way I had originally been going on this road and promised myself to drive until I either figured out where I was going, or I found a place to ask for directions.
Which was it?
I figured out where I was going. I found my turn a little further up the road than I had driven before. It's exactly the same outcome as any other time I've done this.
And how did that make you feel?
Honestly, a little ashamed of myself. After going through the same thing over and over again, you'd think I'd have learned. I just get so anxious, y'know? Because I have done this so many times, I get nervous any time I have to drive somewhere I've never been before. I'm so afraid I'm going to do it again...I usually do.
Are there other times when you get angry with yourself? Times when you're not in the car?
Sure. I see it at work and when I'm working on my own projects at home. If things aren't going perfectly, and I can't figure out how to make them go perfectly, I get mad.
Why do you think that is?
I hold myself to a very high standard whenever I take up a task. It's like...I don't know. It's like I want people to see how well I did something. I want them to be impressed with my skill, or at the very least, I don't want them to be unimpressed with my lack of skill.
Have you always been this way?
No. I wasn't when I was a kid. In fact, you might say I was the opposite. See, I didn't have much encouragement when I was little. Some of the teachers told me I had potential, and I think my dad believed in me. But most of my teachers wanted to hold me back a grade and give me detentions, and my dad was constantly at work or playing in a night club with his band. My stepmom and her two daughters were definitely no source of encouragement. It was very clear that they never expected me to succeed.
So, when do you think all this changed?
High school. See, I moved out of my dad's house and in with my real mom. It was like another world to me. I had so much more freedom living with my mom, and she made it clear that she believed in me. She saw how little faith I had in myself, so she did everything in her power to change that. But it's a very hard thing to change in a person. I came from an environment where nobody expected me to succeed, so I didn't. Now, I was in a situation where somebody was encouraging me to succeed, and I wanted to. I wanted to succeed so that I wouldn't let down my mom and to spite those who didn't believe in me before.
And did you?
Well, only a little. See, opportunities would come up. Things I never would have done before. I saw them as a way to prove myself. Every once in a while, I would work up the courage to take on a challenge. Sometimes I would succeed, but many times I would be on the verge of success, but then I would get scared.
Scared of what?
Scared that I was going to fail. I was afraid that I was going to fall on my face and that everyone was going to see it and think of me as a loser. I would rather they just didn't think of me at all. So, I remained pretty inconspicuous in high school, except for a few things. Things, I might add, that I worked extremely hard on, just so that there was absolutely no chance I would fail.
That was in high school. How about now?
Well, it depends on the situation. I know what my strengths are, so if I have people encouraging me to do something that involves my strengths, I'll do it. But again, I will employ those strengths to their absolute limit so that I'm not perceived as a failure. If I'm not sure about the situation, though...if it's something I've never done before or something I haven't had a lot of practice with, I'm reluctant to do it at all. And if I do decide to take on the challenge, I usually end up doubting myself every step of the way. That self doubt usually ends up sabotaging the whole thing.
Like when you're driving.
Yeah, actually.
And how do you feel now?
Jeez, doc, I come to you for answers, and all you do is ask me questions.
Well, I have to ask you these things. This job would be a lot easier if I could read your mind. Since I can't, your honest answers to my questions are the next best thing.
Okay, okay. Right now...well, I feel good talking to someone about this. Y'know, a lot of times, when I'm getting angry at myself, no one's around. I'm alone in the car or in my office at work. Usually, if someone's around, I wouldn't make my anger so obvious. With someone looking over my shoulder, I think it comes off more as hesitance. But it feels good to talk about it now...although, I do feel a little ashamed.
Why is that?
Obviously, this isn't normal. Otherwise I wouldn't be here. I recognize, even while it's happening, that I'm being unreasonable. I just...don't know how to stop myself.
How often does it happen?
I have a minor occurrence of it almost every day, but really bad ones happen maybe once or twice a week.
Do you get tense when it happens?
Especially in my shoulders and back.
Any trouble sleeping?
Not really. I mean, I usually don't go to bed early because there just aren't enough hours in the day to get everything done that I want to get done. But once I go to bed, I have no trouble getting to sleep.
SKODA jots several notes in a notebook that sits on his lap.
Okay, Jeffrey. Given everything we've talked about today, I believe you may have some component of generalized anxiety disorder. Now, I'm going to refer you to a psychiatrist for a consultation.
A psychiatrist?
He'll be able to confirm my diagnosis and, if he feels it's necessary, prescribe an anti-anxiety medication like Celexa or Lexapro.
JEFF sits up, a concerned look on his face.
Do you really think medication is necessary?
Well, I don't think you'll need to use medication on a regular basis, but it certainly might help for the really bad occurrences. Aside from that, we'll be going over some relaxation techniques that I think will help quite a bit. Eventually, I think you'll be at a point where medication is entirely unnecessary. I'm confident that we'll be able to reduce the severity of your anxiety significantly, if not eliminate it entirely.
Good. That's what I want to hear.
All right. Let's stop here for today. If you go up front, I'll have my assistant schedule you with the psychiatrist. She'll also give you some handouts on relaxation techniques. Take them home and look them over. We'll go over them at our appointment next week. Call if you have any questions, okay?
JEFF stands and walks over to SKODA and shakes his hand.
Thank you, Doctor Skoda. I'm beginning to feel a little better already.
SKODA smiles and JEFF exits the office headed for the front desk.
FADE OUT:
Note: As I said in the beginning, the above is a work of fiction. For those of you who recognized the name, Dr. Emil Skoda is a recurring character played by J.K. Simmons on the TV legal drama "Law & Order". He doesn't look anything like how I described him up top, but that's one of the great things about fiction: I don't have to ensure accuracy.
Speaking of accuracy, I think it's important to note that I am not a licensed therapist, nor do I have a Ph.D. in psychology or an M.D. in psychiatric medicine. The method of diagnosis used by Skoda above and the resultant recommendations are not, to my knowledge, specifically endorsed by any healthcare professional.
Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD), however, can be a serious problem and is estimated to affect as many as 5,000,000 Americans. If you feel you may be suffering from GAD, please consult your primary healthcare provider. He or she will be able to refer you to a professional who can help.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Evolution Ticks Me Off!
Warning! Soapbox ahead!
Okay, maybe not evolution itself, but the whole evolution argument...that bugs me. One of my pet peeves is when people start running their mouths about things they are not qualified to run their mouths about! Evolution is the current most mouth-runned thing and my least favorite. I don't go into people's churches to try and teach evolution. They shouldn't come into public classrooms and try to teach intelligent design.
Of course, I do know the difference between a public school and a church. The issue here is that the religious right wants to march into our biology classes and stamp a disclaimer before evolution. The theory of evolution is a concept that was arrived at by following the same rigid procedure that gave us the theory of relativity: the scientific method. Nobody demands that we put disclaimers before Einstein's theory, at least not anyone who speaks as loudly as those against Darwin's.
In the public's vernacular, "theory" can be almost equally substituted with "guess". But in science, a "guess" must go through a rigorous process before it eventually can evolve into a theory. As a scientist, you must be able to provide substantial evidence and a repeatable experiment with a consistent, observable conclusion. This is something that not a lot of these people understand. They think Darwin was just standing around, scratching his ass, and said (with "Goofy" voice), "Gawrsh, I got me a theory!" Do some research, people! Learn about it before you go mouthing off in a very public setting and making a fool of yourself.
'Cause let's face it folks, evolution is a fact. What I mean is, evolution is a real process that has occurred in the past, occurs in the present and will continue to occur in the future. It is the mechanism of evolution that still claims the title "theory". Scientist still aren't entirely sure why evolution happens or exactly how it happens. Darwin presented natural selection as a possibility, and it is the most commonly accepted theory for the mechanism of evolution. Does it perfectly explain evolution? No. There are still holes in our understanding of it, but virtually no scientist questions the validity of evolution as a real, ongoing event.
Does this mean we came from apes? Well, if you follow the logic, there seems to be a strong indication that this is the case. We know from fossil evidence that, at one time, the diversity of life on this planet was very limited. We know that all living things undergo evolution. We know that, at some point, the diversity of life on this planet increased, indeed is still increasing, however slowly. There was a time when there were no humans, but there were simian creatures, like apes. We have a fossil record of a gradual variation of simian life with ever increasing similarity to modern humans. We know that all simians, humans included, have extremely similar DNA signatures. In fact, we share between 98.5 and 95 percent genetic information with the chimpanzee. So, did we evolve from the chimpanzee? Not likely, but it is likely that we share an ancestor with the chimpanzee.
And all this is just an extreme glossing of the evidence available to suggest this relationship. Does all this mean that it is an incontrovertible fact that humans evolved from a more apelike ancestor? Of course not. Anyone who has ever taken a course in philosophy knows that nothing, absolutely nothing, can be proven 100%, not even your existence. But if we don't exist, why the hell am I even typing this?
See, there's this scale of reasonability. It's reasonable to believe that I exist because you're reading this now, or are you? Seriously though, it's reasonable to believe that humans evolved from an apelike ancestor because there is significant evidence to support it. And just because we believe in evolution, doesn't mean we can't also believe that God or some higher intelligence created us. Clearly, if we were created, then our creator endowed us with the ability to evolve because we are evolving right now. The only thing that is contradicted by a belief in this instance of evolution is the bible and related religious works. But as I've said previously in this blog, there's a difference between faith and religion. Religion makes it next to impossible for you to believe anything it doesn't tell you directly. Faith imposes no such requirements.
But all of this is completely aside from the point. If people are going to oppose the teaching of evolution in public schools, they need to oppose science as a whole. If, however, they are willing to accept the scientific method and all the other facts and theories that we currently owe to it, then they must relent in their singling out of evolution. Biology is a science class, and evolution is a branch of the biological sciences. If parents want to be selective about the science they are taught in school, send them to a sympathetic private school, or home school them. You have that choice. Don't impose your ideology into the public school system, where there are plenty of students who are interested in learning pure, indiscriminate science.
Check out this site for more information on evolution: fact and theory.
Check out Defcon America if you're of like mind and would like to show your support for the continued separation of church and state.
For those who prefer a different flavor of reality, check out the official site of the Christian Coalition.
Okay, maybe not evolution itself, but the whole evolution argument...that bugs me. One of my pet peeves is when people start running their mouths about things they are not qualified to run their mouths about! Evolution is the current most mouth-runned thing and my least favorite. I don't go into people's churches to try and teach evolution. They shouldn't come into public classrooms and try to teach intelligent design.
Of course, I do know the difference between a public school and a church. The issue here is that the religious right wants to march into our biology classes and stamp a disclaimer before evolution. The theory of evolution is a concept that was arrived at by following the same rigid procedure that gave us the theory of relativity: the scientific method. Nobody demands that we put disclaimers before Einstein's theory, at least not anyone who speaks as loudly as those against Darwin's.
In the public's vernacular, "theory" can be almost equally substituted with "guess". But in science, a "guess" must go through a rigorous process before it eventually can evolve into a theory. As a scientist, you must be able to provide substantial evidence and a repeatable experiment with a consistent, observable conclusion. This is something that not a lot of these people understand. They think Darwin was just standing around, scratching his ass, and said (with "Goofy" voice), "Gawrsh, I got me a theory!" Do some research, people! Learn about it before you go mouthing off in a very public setting and making a fool of yourself.
'Cause let's face it folks, evolution is a fact. What I mean is, evolution is a real process that has occurred in the past, occurs in the present and will continue to occur in the future. It is the mechanism of evolution that still claims the title "theory". Scientist still aren't entirely sure why evolution happens or exactly how it happens. Darwin presented natural selection as a possibility, and it is the most commonly accepted theory for the mechanism of evolution. Does it perfectly explain evolution? No. There are still holes in our understanding of it, but virtually no scientist questions the validity of evolution as a real, ongoing event.
Does this mean we came from apes? Well, if you follow the logic, there seems to be a strong indication that this is the case. We know from fossil evidence that, at one time, the diversity of life on this planet was very limited. We know that all living things undergo evolution. We know that, at some point, the diversity of life on this planet increased, indeed is still increasing, however slowly. There was a time when there were no humans, but there were simian creatures, like apes. We have a fossil record of a gradual variation of simian life with ever increasing similarity to modern humans. We know that all simians, humans included, have extremely similar DNA signatures. In fact, we share between 98.5 and 95 percent genetic information with the chimpanzee. So, did we evolve from the chimpanzee? Not likely, but it is likely that we share an ancestor with the chimpanzee.
And all this is just an extreme glossing of the evidence available to suggest this relationship. Does all this mean that it is an incontrovertible fact that humans evolved from a more apelike ancestor? Of course not. Anyone who has ever taken a course in philosophy knows that nothing, absolutely nothing, can be proven 100%, not even your existence. But if we don't exist, why the hell am I even typing this?
See, there's this scale of reasonability. It's reasonable to believe that I exist because you're reading this now, or are you? Seriously though, it's reasonable to believe that humans evolved from an apelike ancestor because there is significant evidence to support it. And just because we believe in evolution, doesn't mean we can't also believe that God or some higher intelligence created us. Clearly, if we were created, then our creator endowed us with the ability to evolve because we are evolving right now. The only thing that is contradicted by a belief in this instance of evolution is the bible and related religious works. But as I've said previously in this blog, there's a difference between faith and religion. Religion makes it next to impossible for you to believe anything it doesn't tell you directly. Faith imposes no such requirements.
But all of this is completely aside from the point. If people are going to oppose the teaching of evolution in public schools, they need to oppose science as a whole. If, however, they are willing to accept the scientific method and all the other facts and theories that we currently owe to it, then they must relent in their singling out of evolution. Biology is a science class, and evolution is a branch of the biological sciences. If parents want to be selective about the science they are taught in school, send them to a sympathetic private school, or home school them. You have that choice. Don't impose your ideology into the public school system, where there are plenty of students who are interested in learning pure, indiscriminate science.
Check out this site for more information on evolution: fact and theory.
Check out Defcon America if you're of like mind and would like to show your support for the continued separation of church and state.
For those who prefer a different flavor of reality, check out the official site of the Christian Coalition.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
It's What I Do...
Welcome, once again, all. Given the purpose of this blog, I thought it appropriate to post an excerpt from my book. Before I do, though, let me give you a brief bit about it. I've chosen this particular section because it has always been my favorite. Why it's my favorite, I couldn't say. It does not involve the main character, nor is it the most action packed sequence, not by a long shot. I guess I just really like the character Su-Ni. She isn't really a crucial character in this book, but you do get to see her quite often. I'm setting her up for something bigger. She's going to be very prominent in the next book, if not the next few books. This is her first encounter on her very first little adventure, and it is here where she learns how harsh the road can really be.
* * * * *
Sitting up, Su-Ni looked to her unwitting companions' campfire. It was burning low, though she knew someone must have still been awake, keeping watch and tending the small fire. The young diplomat took comfort in the tiny yellow light in the distance, and she sat watching it for several minutes until her eyelids once again became heavy.
Somewhere to her right, a cricket chirruped, and her eyes snapped open. A little in front of her, another cricket answered. She realized that the small insects had likely been playing all night, and it was her stirring that had momentarily silenced them. She continued to sit still as the whole grassy earth around her slowly came alive with a crescendo of the natural music. Normally the repetitive, high pitched noise would have aggravated her and kept her awake, but her weary muscles and heavy eyelids took that away. The cricketsong was a lullaby, and she was succumbing to its magic.
Her eyes snapped open again.
The sudden silence roared in her ears. She flinched and looked around cautiously. Perhaps she had begun to fall back and caught herself, and the sudden movement had startled the crickets. She peered into the darkness all about her but could not see beyond ten feet in the light of this not-quite-full moon.
Su-Ni froze as a light patter, almost imperceptible, issued from her left. It seemed as though the sound darted quickly to somewhere in front of her. The distant campfire blinked out of her sight for just a moment. She knew something was out there now. Something was circling her. Not ready to panic yet, she wondered if it might be someone from the camp investigating the area.
"Hello?" she ventured, but not too loudly. "Who is there?"
Something flashed in the darkness, low to the ground. Four little circles appeared and disappeared quickly just out beyond the dim light. The young diplomat recognized the reflection of the moonlight in the eyes of some animal.
Or animals.
It seemed to her that it had to be more than one, for she had seen two pairs of eyes flashing in the dark. She peered out all around her, squinting slightly at the effort. The pattering came again, followed by another flash of eyes. She began to worry that a pack of hungry wild dogs had come upon her in the night and saw her for what she was.
Easy prey.
Su-Ni cursed herself for bringing no weapons with her on this journey. Not that she was skilled with any weapon, but she certainly would have felt safer now with some kind of dagger in her hand. She glanced over at the faintly glowing campfire in the distance and wondered if they would hear her if she screamed and, more importantly, if they would arrive in time to save her.
She gritted her teeth against that thought. She was not even sure if the creature, or creatures, were dangerous. She would only reveal herself if she perceived a greater risk in doing otherwise. Of course, she wondered again if there would be enough time to save her when she finally perceived that risk.
A low chitter-like sound broke the silence, causing Su-Ni to jump. She grabbed her small pack and stood quickly, holding it defensively against her chest. She turned all about, trying to catch another glimpse of her stalker. She tried to control her breathing and strained to hear over the pounding of her heart in her ears. That sound was surely not made by any dog.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another movement, and she turned to look. Something stepped into the circle of low light offered by the moon.
She could see that it was some manner of quadruped, but she was confused by the jumble of mass around its head. The creature ventured closer, seemingly smelling the air and turning from side to side. As it stepped toward her and into a bit more light, Su-Ni's confusion melted into tentative fascination. She realized that what she had thought was its entire head was actually its head and an extra set of long, jointed forelimbs that grew from its well-muscled chest. She was also shocked to see that the two pairs of eyes she had seen belonged to only a single creature. It turned its head again to focus on her with the other pair of lidless, glittering black eyes.
Though the rest of the creature's brown fur-covered body was, indeed, dog shaped, the four eyes and the two extra limbs, which now started to unfold and probe the ground in front of it with large, black, single-taloned tips, made it seem almost spiderlike. It chittered again, and Su-Ni noted the massive black beak from which it had issued the sound.
She marveled at the enigmatic looking creature. It seemed to be a jumble of the most unlikely animals she could think of. She also thought, though it did nothing to quell her uneasiness, that the creature had a rather comical face. A bony ridge set high on its flat head made it look a bit surprised to see her. She knew better than to be at ease as those two enormous taloned limbs now pawed at the air.
The creature chittered once more in an almost quizzical tone.
An answering chitter came from behind Su-Ni. She turned quickly to see another of these odd beasts approaching her. Now she started to feel panicked. As they came closer, it seemed that their tapered bodies crouched lower, especially in the rear, where their thickly-built back legs twitched eagerly.
Su-Ni did not doubt that she was in trouble now, but she was too stunned to find voice enough to scream for help. The way the two creatures were edging in on her, always staying on opposite sides, told her unquestionably that they were hunting her. She looked from one to the other, watching as they padded forward, more with those powerful rear legs than with their front. Each inch that they crept closer brought the prominent ridge of their spines arching even higher.
The two creatures leapt at her with terrifying speed, using their rear legs to push them off the ground and their extra limbs to provide impetus. Her sharp logic had told her what these creatures were about to do, but it was purely her instinct that had her dropping to the ground at just the right instant. She had barely hit the dirt and started rolling out of the way as they crashed into each other in midair. They fell to the ground and struggled with one another, trying to disentangle their limbs, snarling and screeching simultaneously. The sound chilled Su-Ni to the bone, but she wasted no time gaping at the fighting beasts. She jumped up and began running toward the low campfire in the distance. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a third creature take up the chase, screeching loudly.
Now she screamed.
She was running full speed, yelling for help as loudly as she could. She still carried her small pack, but she quickly decided to drop it and concentrate every effort on reaching the soldiers' camp. The fire that had moments ago seemed comfortably close, now looked as though it were miles away. She looked back over her shoulder, hoping that the creatures had paused, if even for a moment, to investigate her pack. She looked just in time to see a sleek fur-lined body flying at her.
Again Su-Ni ducked, but it was not fast enough this time. She was hit with a force that knocked the air from her lungs and pushed her to the ground. She screamed again as the creature's claws dug into her sides. She threw her arms up defensively against the wildly stabbing talons of its forelimbs. The beast's screech tore through the night air and left her ears ringing so that she could not hear the other two bounding up fast to join in the killing.
She knew they were coming anyway, so she continued to scream and tried desperately to roll out from under the beast while still attempting to defend herself. The creature merely screeched louder and dug its claws in deeper. Its talons tore deep gashes in her forearms, which began to lower as Su-Ni tired and as muscle was cut down to the bone. Her screams became weak, pleading sobs. Tears mixed with blood...
* * * * *
Sitting up, Su-Ni looked to her unwitting companions' campfire. It was burning low, though she knew someone must have still been awake, keeping watch and tending the small fire. The young diplomat took comfort in the tiny yellow light in the distance, and she sat watching it for several minutes until her eyelids once again became heavy.
Somewhere to her right, a cricket chirruped, and her eyes snapped open. A little in front of her, another cricket answered. She realized that the small insects had likely been playing all night, and it was her stirring that had momentarily silenced them. She continued to sit still as the whole grassy earth around her slowly came alive with a crescendo of the natural music. Normally the repetitive, high pitched noise would have aggravated her and kept her awake, but her weary muscles and heavy eyelids took that away. The cricketsong was a lullaby, and she was succumbing to its magic.
Her eyes snapped open again.
The sudden silence roared in her ears. She flinched and looked around cautiously. Perhaps she had begun to fall back and caught herself, and the sudden movement had startled the crickets. She peered into the darkness all about her but could not see beyond ten feet in the light of this not-quite-full moon.
Su-Ni froze as a light patter, almost imperceptible, issued from her left. It seemed as though the sound darted quickly to somewhere in front of her. The distant campfire blinked out of her sight for just a moment. She knew something was out there now. Something was circling her. Not ready to panic yet, she wondered if it might be someone from the camp investigating the area.
"Hello?" she ventured, but not too loudly. "Who is there?"
Something flashed in the darkness, low to the ground. Four little circles appeared and disappeared quickly just out beyond the dim light. The young diplomat recognized the reflection of the moonlight in the eyes of some animal.
Or animals.
It seemed to her that it had to be more than one, for she had seen two pairs of eyes flashing in the dark. She peered out all around her, squinting slightly at the effort. The pattering came again, followed by another flash of eyes. She began to worry that a pack of hungry wild dogs had come upon her in the night and saw her for what she was.
Easy prey.
Su-Ni cursed herself for bringing no weapons with her on this journey. Not that she was skilled with any weapon, but she certainly would have felt safer now with some kind of dagger in her hand. She glanced over at the faintly glowing campfire in the distance and wondered if they would hear her if she screamed and, more importantly, if they would arrive in time to save her.
She gritted her teeth against that thought. She was not even sure if the creature, or creatures, were dangerous. She would only reveal herself if she perceived a greater risk in doing otherwise. Of course, she wondered again if there would be enough time to save her when she finally perceived that risk.
A low chitter-like sound broke the silence, causing Su-Ni to jump. She grabbed her small pack and stood quickly, holding it defensively against her chest. She turned all about, trying to catch another glimpse of her stalker. She tried to control her breathing and strained to hear over the pounding of her heart in her ears. That sound was surely not made by any dog.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another movement, and she turned to look. Something stepped into the circle of low light offered by the moon.
She could see that it was some manner of quadruped, but she was confused by the jumble of mass around its head. The creature ventured closer, seemingly smelling the air and turning from side to side. As it stepped toward her and into a bit more light, Su-Ni's confusion melted into tentative fascination. She realized that what she had thought was its entire head was actually its head and an extra set of long, jointed forelimbs that grew from its well-muscled chest. She was also shocked to see that the two pairs of eyes she had seen belonged to only a single creature. It turned its head again to focus on her with the other pair of lidless, glittering black eyes.
Though the rest of the creature's brown fur-covered body was, indeed, dog shaped, the four eyes and the two extra limbs, which now started to unfold and probe the ground in front of it with large, black, single-taloned tips, made it seem almost spiderlike. It chittered again, and Su-Ni noted the massive black beak from which it had issued the sound.
She marveled at the enigmatic looking creature. It seemed to be a jumble of the most unlikely animals she could think of. She also thought, though it did nothing to quell her uneasiness, that the creature had a rather comical face. A bony ridge set high on its flat head made it look a bit surprised to see her. She knew better than to be at ease as those two enormous taloned limbs now pawed at the air.
The creature chittered once more in an almost quizzical tone.
An answering chitter came from behind Su-Ni. She turned quickly to see another of these odd beasts approaching her. Now she started to feel panicked. As they came closer, it seemed that their tapered bodies crouched lower, especially in the rear, where their thickly-built back legs twitched eagerly.
Su-Ni did not doubt that she was in trouble now, but she was too stunned to find voice enough to scream for help. The way the two creatures were edging in on her, always staying on opposite sides, told her unquestionably that they were hunting her. She looked from one to the other, watching as they padded forward, more with those powerful rear legs than with their front. Each inch that they crept closer brought the prominent ridge of their spines arching even higher.
The two creatures leapt at her with terrifying speed, using their rear legs to push them off the ground and their extra limbs to provide impetus. Her sharp logic had told her what these creatures were about to do, but it was purely her instinct that had her dropping to the ground at just the right instant. She had barely hit the dirt and started rolling out of the way as they crashed into each other in midair. They fell to the ground and struggled with one another, trying to disentangle their limbs, snarling and screeching simultaneously. The sound chilled Su-Ni to the bone, but she wasted no time gaping at the fighting beasts. She jumped up and began running toward the low campfire in the distance. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a third creature take up the chase, screeching loudly.
Now she screamed.
She was running full speed, yelling for help as loudly as she could. She still carried her small pack, but she quickly decided to drop it and concentrate every effort on reaching the soldiers' camp. The fire that had moments ago seemed comfortably close, now looked as though it were miles away. She looked back over her shoulder, hoping that the creatures had paused, if even for a moment, to investigate her pack. She looked just in time to see a sleek fur-lined body flying at her.
Again Su-Ni ducked, but it was not fast enough this time. She was hit with a force that knocked the air from her lungs and pushed her to the ground. She screamed again as the creature's claws dug into her sides. She threw her arms up defensively against the wildly stabbing talons of its forelimbs. The beast's screech tore through the night air and left her ears ringing so that she could not hear the other two bounding up fast to join in the killing.
She knew they were coming anyway, so she continued to scream and tried desperately to roll out from under the beast while still attempting to defend herself. The creature merely screeched louder and dug its claws in deeper. Its talons tore deep gashes in her forearms, which began to lower as Su-Ni tired and as muscle was cut down to the bone. Her screams became weak, pleading sobs. Tears mixed with blood...
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
To Be Inspired
At this point in time, I am not a bestselling author with years of professional writing experience under my belt. I may be at heart, but in the physical sense, I am not...not yet. I expect to get there someday, though that isn't what draws me back inescapably to my keyboard day after day. Despite my relative inexperience, I think I might still have something of value to the aspiring writer in the way of advice. At the very least, it is an idea that I'm sure any writer, or even any artist, can feel sympathetic about.
The idea is very simple. Inspiration is a gift, but unlike most gifts, this one has a limited time offer. That's why, when inspiration hits, you need to shut up and listen. No matter if you are at work or watching your favorite TV show or getting ready for bed, heed the call of the muses, my friend. You'll regret it if you don't.
I don't know how it works. It's mysterious, almost mystical. That's what makes it so different from any other thought you have throughout the day. When it comes to you, it feels like magic, like faith, like you've left this physical world behind for something altogether more spiritually satisfying. It chills you more deeply than winter ever could and makes the hair on the back of your neck dance electrically. It makes you want to burst out in peals of laughter and tears. Amazing, awesome, incredible. These words are impotent to describe it.
The funny thing of it is, no matter how earth shaking a sudden burst of inspiration is, it can go just as quickly, leaving you wondering why you're standing in the middle of the grocery store looking like the Cheerios box just told you the meaning of life. Trust me. I've been there. And given that I am not the first person to claim that "inspiration is fleeting," I'm guessing others have been there too.
So, here's what you need to do. Always carry around a writing utensil of some type and preferably something to write on as well, although your forearm will work in a pinch, unless it's very hairy, then I don't know what to tell you. But whatever you have to do to get your inspiration down, do it. Stop, drop (everything) and write! Because if you say to yourself, "I'll get it in a few minutes. There's no way I can forget an idea this good," in a few minutes, I think you'll end up being sorely disappointed. Even if you do remember what it was that got you so worked up, it just isn't the same. It doesn't strike you with the same significance as it did.
There's another benefit aside from just making sure you got the message right. The muses love to talk to people who listen. I think you'll find the more you respond to inspiration, the more frequently it comes to you. And don't keep it bottled up either. Inspiration is a message to you. Maybe this message comes from your higher self or some other divine source. But whoever sent it, if you share it with others, you will inspire them. They'll get a peek at this soul-moving moment and be moved by it.
Of course, it is important to remember that not everyone "gets it". And it may be that some are turned off by it. But don't censor yourself by being afraid of what others might think. Art is an expression of how you see reality. It is a release for those of us who have too much inside us to share any other way. If we suppress that, we are lost. We are imprisoned in a bland external shell where we secretly go insane as our desire to be understood and accepted for what we are consumes us.
The idea is very simple. Inspiration is a gift, but unlike most gifts, this one has a limited time offer. That's why, when inspiration hits, you need to shut up and listen. No matter if you are at work or watching your favorite TV show or getting ready for bed, heed the call of the muses, my friend. You'll regret it if you don't.
I don't know how it works. It's mysterious, almost mystical. That's what makes it so different from any other thought you have throughout the day. When it comes to you, it feels like magic, like faith, like you've left this physical world behind for something altogether more spiritually satisfying. It chills you more deeply than winter ever could and makes the hair on the back of your neck dance electrically. It makes you want to burst out in peals of laughter and tears. Amazing, awesome, incredible. These words are impotent to describe it.
The funny thing of it is, no matter how earth shaking a sudden burst of inspiration is, it can go just as quickly, leaving you wondering why you're standing in the middle of the grocery store looking like the Cheerios box just told you the meaning of life. Trust me. I've been there. And given that I am not the first person to claim that "inspiration is fleeting," I'm guessing others have been there too.
So, here's what you need to do. Always carry around a writing utensil of some type and preferably something to write on as well, although your forearm will work in a pinch, unless it's very hairy, then I don't know what to tell you. But whatever you have to do to get your inspiration down, do it. Stop, drop (everything) and write! Because if you say to yourself, "I'll get it in a few minutes. There's no way I can forget an idea this good," in a few minutes, I think you'll end up being sorely disappointed. Even if you do remember what it was that got you so worked up, it just isn't the same. It doesn't strike you with the same significance as it did.
There's another benefit aside from just making sure you got the message right. The muses love to talk to people who listen. I think you'll find the more you respond to inspiration, the more frequently it comes to you. And don't keep it bottled up either. Inspiration is a message to you. Maybe this message comes from your higher self or some other divine source. But whoever sent it, if you share it with others, you will inspire them. They'll get a peek at this soul-moving moment and be moved by it.
Of course, it is important to remember that not everyone "gets it". And it may be that some are turned off by it. But don't censor yourself by being afraid of what others might think. Art is an expression of how you see reality. It is a release for those of us who have too much inside us to share any other way. If we suppress that, we are lost. We are imprisoned in a bland external shell where we secretly go insane as our desire to be understood and accepted for what we are consumes us.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Surreality
It looked like a cool ride. One of those track-guided, animatronic-filled trips through some Hollywood fantasy. We'd been riding them all day. But this one had a twist.
We had only vaguely registered the inclined walkways as the line zigzagged through the building that was the front for this amusement park adrenaline service. We oohed and aahed along in the quietly clacking conveyance as latex-covered machines lurched unnaturally at us, and carefully orchestrated explosions warmed our surprised faces. All the while we were carried subtly higher. The cart clacked ahead into darkness, and a rectangular light appeared ahead of us. This was the end of the ride. Or was it?
We squinted as our trolley came out into the sunlight. To our mild shock, we were on a track 15 stories above the park. Around us the scaffolding rose higher for purposes unknown to us, for up ahead the track was level. The view was breathtaking. We were stopped, perhaps to admire what lay below.
"What's going on?" my wife asked, a little startled.
"I don't know," I answered, "but it's cool."
She looked around appraisingly, then shook her head in what was a decidedly decided manner. "No, it isn't."
"C'mon, baby, it's just part of the ride," I told her reassuringly.
She was most assuredly not reassured. "Well, I don't like it," she said in that decided way.
"Relax," I said a little more insistently. "The ride's almost over anyway."
My wife regarded me somewhat venomously. "Why aren't we moving?" she bit.
"I told you," I said as diplomatically as I could, "it's part of the ride. Just enjoy the view."
She shook her head again, discomfort creeping into her expression. "Something's wrong. I want to get off."
"Don't be ridiculous," I said with a roll of my eyes. "We'll get off when the ride's over."
"No," she said in that snaky way, "I'm getting off now."
"What?" I asked with an incredulous snicker.
She didn't answer. As I watched in disbelief she raised the safety bar effortlessly and climbed out of her seat.
"Honey, what are you doing?!" I cried out fearfully.
Without a word, she continued to the side of the track and grabbed one of the wide metal supports on the scaffold and climbed out onto it.
"Oh my God!" I yelled, fumbling with my safety bar. It was safely stuck in place, as it should have been. I looked up in panic.
My wife was climbing down, devoid of fear, balancing precariously as she grabbed onto another support and lowered herself. She was below the level of the track now. I could no longer see her.
"Baby, don't move! Stay where you are!" I called on the verge of tears. I rattled my safety bar forcefully. There was a sudden click, and the bar rose. I leapt out of my seat. Then, I remembered where I was. I glanced around and felt a bit sick. Looking through the track below, I saw the ground, 150 stories' descent, straight down.
"Baby," I called out weakly. "Baby, please say something to me!" She still wasn't answering, but I could hear shuffling and grunting below as she lowered herself down some more. Knowing I would have no other choice, I shakily stepped onto the track and edged over to the scaffold.
I looked over the precipice. The criss-crossing pattern of the massive scaffold played cruel games with my vision and increased my vertigo exponentially. I swayed on my feet and caught myself on one of the massive supports. Closing my eyes, I shook my head to clear away the dizziness. Slowly, I opened them again and looked for my wife, my teeth clenched with determination.
There she was, continuing her trek downward. I was amazed at how much progress she had made, but it didn't do anything to calm me. Seeing I was already part if the way there, I pulled the rest of my body onto the support. My stomach felt like it was trying to stay behind. I resisted its persistent urging and pressed it and myself against the support, clutching the metal for dear life.
With my head threatening to shake loose from my neck, I looked hesitantly over the edge of the support to see how much further she had gotten. She had been climbing down diagonally, following the strangely twisting metal on its way to the ground. Currently, she was somewhere on a part of the scaffold that hung out in the open air before curving back almost directly below. She was about halfway down.
"Who the hell designed this thing?" I couldn't help but ask out of exasperation. I tried to push myself up to grab another support and begin lowering myself, but I couldn't. My hand wouldn't move away from helping to hold me up, no matter how insistently I told it to. I looked back down again.
The scaffold below was swaying. I don't mean it was swaying slightly in the breeze. I mean it was swinging from side to side in a 20 foot arc through the air as my wife shifted her weight out on the vertex of this weird bulge on the illogical jumble of steel.
I screamed, "No! Baby, please stop! Please!" My whole body shook as I began sobbing. It made the slight swaying sensation that I felt up there more pronounced. I laid my head down and squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as I could as tears forced their way out, gripping the support under me with all my strength. I prayed that, whatever she did, she would eventually make it down safely. At the same time I scolded myself for being too much of a coward to go after her.
A few minutes later I heard some shuffling and grunting. I don't really remember everything that happened next. I just know my wife was there. She had climbed back up for me. She knew I was terrified. I remember her guiding me back to my seat on the coaster. Once we were seated, the safety bars came down, and we started moving again. I don't know if the track descended gradually or if there was some kind of death-defying drop. Honestly, I didn't care about the ride anymore, except to get off it.
"Did you have fun?" the worker at the bottom asked cheerily, apparently oblivious to the whole fiasco.
I was speechless.
"It was very exciting," my wife said with a grin.
I continued with the speechlessness.
"Great, make sure you get a picture of it at the stand over there!" the pimply adolescent enthused.
"Oh, cool," my wife replied.
She guided me, shivering, over to the wall lined with monitors. Row after row showed empty seats at various points through the ride. They cycled through the last several stills.
"Ooh, look!" my wife squealed joyfully. "There you are."
There, on one of the monitors, was me. My face was pressed against the cold steel of one of the supports, my eyelids strained from the force of pushing them together, tears quite clearly ran down my terrified cheeks. My wife walked up to the vendor and pointed, cackling with glee.
"Who makes a roller coaster out of scaffolding anyway?" I muttered resentfully under my breath.
Man...dreams are messed up.
We had only vaguely registered the inclined walkways as the line zigzagged through the building that was the front for this amusement park adrenaline service. We oohed and aahed along in the quietly clacking conveyance as latex-covered machines lurched unnaturally at us, and carefully orchestrated explosions warmed our surprised faces. All the while we were carried subtly higher. The cart clacked ahead into darkness, and a rectangular light appeared ahead of us. This was the end of the ride. Or was it?
We squinted as our trolley came out into the sunlight. To our mild shock, we were on a track 15 stories above the park. Around us the scaffolding rose higher for purposes unknown to us, for up ahead the track was level. The view was breathtaking. We were stopped, perhaps to admire what lay below.
"What's going on?" my wife asked, a little startled.
"I don't know," I answered, "but it's cool."
She looked around appraisingly, then shook her head in what was a decidedly decided manner. "No, it isn't."
"C'mon, baby, it's just part of the ride," I told her reassuringly.
She was most assuredly not reassured. "Well, I don't like it," she said in that decided way.
"Relax," I said a little more insistently. "The ride's almost over anyway."
My wife regarded me somewhat venomously. "Why aren't we moving?" she bit.
"I told you," I said as diplomatically as I could, "it's part of the ride. Just enjoy the view."
She shook her head again, discomfort creeping into her expression. "Something's wrong. I want to get off."
"Don't be ridiculous," I said with a roll of my eyes. "We'll get off when the ride's over."
"No," she said in that snaky way, "I'm getting off now."
"What?" I asked with an incredulous snicker.
She didn't answer. As I watched in disbelief she raised the safety bar effortlessly and climbed out of her seat.
"Honey, what are you doing?!" I cried out fearfully.
Without a word, she continued to the side of the track and grabbed one of the wide metal supports on the scaffold and climbed out onto it.
"Oh my God!" I yelled, fumbling with my safety bar. It was safely stuck in place, as it should have been. I looked up in panic.
My wife was climbing down, devoid of fear, balancing precariously as she grabbed onto another support and lowered herself. She was below the level of the track now. I could no longer see her.
"Baby, don't move! Stay where you are!" I called on the verge of tears. I rattled my safety bar forcefully. There was a sudden click, and the bar rose. I leapt out of my seat. Then, I remembered where I was. I glanced around and felt a bit sick. Looking through the track below, I saw the ground, 150 stories' descent, straight down.
"Baby," I called out weakly. "Baby, please say something to me!" She still wasn't answering, but I could hear shuffling and grunting below as she lowered herself down some more. Knowing I would have no other choice, I shakily stepped onto the track and edged over to the scaffold.
I looked over the precipice. The criss-crossing pattern of the massive scaffold played cruel games with my vision and increased my vertigo exponentially. I swayed on my feet and caught myself on one of the massive supports. Closing my eyes, I shook my head to clear away the dizziness. Slowly, I opened them again and looked for my wife, my teeth clenched with determination.
There she was, continuing her trek downward. I was amazed at how much progress she had made, but it didn't do anything to calm me. Seeing I was already part if the way there, I pulled the rest of my body onto the support. My stomach felt like it was trying to stay behind. I resisted its persistent urging and pressed it and myself against the support, clutching the metal for dear life.
With my head threatening to shake loose from my neck, I looked hesitantly over the edge of the support to see how much further she had gotten. She had been climbing down diagonally, following the strangely twisting metal on its way to the ground. Currently, she was somewhere on a part of the scaffold that hung out in the open air before curving back almost directly below. She was about halfway down.
"Who the hell designed this thing?" I couldn't help but ask out of exasperation. I tried to push myself up to grab another support and begin lowering myself, but I couldn't. My hand wouldn't move away from helping to hold me up, no matter how insistently I told it to. I looked back down again.
The scaffold below was swaying. I don't mean it was swaying slightly in the breeze. I mean it was swinging from side to side in a 20 foot arc through the air as my wife shifted her weight out on the vertex of this weird bulge on the illogical jumble of steel.
I screamed, "No! Baby, please stop! Please!" My whole body shook as I began sobbing. It made the slight swaying sensation that I felt up there more pronounced. I laid my head down and squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as I could as tears forced their way out, gripping the support under me with all my strength. I prayed that, whatever she did, she would eventually make it down safely. At the same time I scolded myself for being too much of a coward to go after her.
A few minutes later I heard some shuffling and grunting. I don't really remember everything that happened next. I just know my wife was there. She had climbed back up for me. She knew I was terrified. I remember her guiding me back to my seat on the coaster. Once we were seated, the safety bars came down, and we started moving again. I don't know if the track descended gradually or if there was some kind of death-defying drop. Honestly, I didn't care about the ride anymore, except to get off it.
"Did you have fun?" the worker at the bottom asked cheerily, apparently oblivious to the whole fiasco.
I was speechless.
"It was very exciting," my wife said with a grin.
I continued with the speechlessness.
"Great, make sure you get a picture of it at the stand over there!" the pimply adolescent enthused.
"Oh, cool," my wife replied.
She guided me, shivering, over to the wall lined with monitors. Row after row showed empty seats at various points through the ride. They cycled through the last several stills.
"Ooh, look!" my wife squealed joyfully. "There you are."
There, on one of the monitors, was me. My face was pressed against the cold steel of one of the supports, my eyelids strained from the force of pushing them together, tears quite clearly ran down my terrified cheeks. My wife walked up to the vendor and pointed, cackling with glee.
"Who makes a roller coaster out of scaffolding anyway?" I muttered resentfully under my breath.
Man...dreams are messed up.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
The Internet Sucks!
(Note: The links below are clickable...click them; it's part of the joke. JAG 10/21/2005)
Look, I don't want you to think I'm a cynic or anything. I know my last post was about hating rebates, and I hate to follow that up with a post about hating the internet. But seriously...
I don't mean to say that I hate the idea of the internet. It is definitely one of the most significant technological concepts of the century, but somewhere, something went horribly wrong. The internet in its current incarnation is the perfect example of what happens when anarchy is the order of the day.
For the umpteenth time I was asked to look something up at work today. And, of course, I also use the internet at home as a research tool. It seems like every day that passes, it gets harder and harder to find what I'm looking for. No matter what my search terms are, these always seem to be the first few results:
___________________________________________________________
Increase Your Size
Add inches and last longer with new Guitar String brand cream treatment. Please her for hours with this all natural...
www.thisallnaturalcreamreallyworksyoushouldtryit.com/ - Sept 15, 2004 - Similar Pages
Refinance Bob's Home of Bank
Listen to refinance Bob pluck his guitar strings of second mortgage refinancing. Bob makes the refinance process easier by singing the paperwork to you over the course of a 3 month...
www.nobodymakesrefinancingyourhomeloaneasierthanbob[phew!].com/ - Apr 10, 2005 - Similar Pages
Make Cash Fast
Become a virtualy guaranteed instantaneous possible millionare selling guitar strings from home! For a minimal signup fee you too can earn infinite cash through the exponential circle of profit...
www.signuptobecomesuccessful.no-thisisnotamway.iswear.really.com/ - Oct 2, 2001 - Similar Pages
Sexy Girls Waiting for You
Free nude pictures, bondage, shelikes to be tied up with a guitar string free free free no credit check come here for all naked barely legal anime hentai...
www.thesegirlsareallrealandwanttogettoknowyouallyouhavetodois
giveusyourcreditcardnumbersocialsecuritynumberbirthdateandmothers
maidenname.com/ - Jan 1, 2028 - Similar Pages
___________________________________________________________
Then, of course, there is always that one tantalizing link that seems perfect:
Buy Guitar Strings Online
Buy guitar strings and other music supplies from our trusted secure site. High quality music equipment, reasonable prices, and secure credit processing are our business. Jeff, this is the link you've been searching for. Click on it...
www.trustedmusicsupply.com/ - Dec 25, 0000 - Similar Pages
Son of a... Man, I hate that. Apparently all the legitimate sites have been driven offline by all the other junk. Don't get me wrong, if what your looking for is porn, all natural creams and supplements that claim to enhance a man's performance, or a way to supposedly make fast cash, the internet is a place to go. And it is possible to find what your looking for otherwise. You just have to sift through all this...stuff. Something has to be done.
But what?
Let me say outright, I don't believe in censorship. I believe in freedom of speech. That said, I also believe people should be encouraged to take other people's sensitivities and expectations into account before they express themselves. I don't argue the fact that these companies and individuals have the right to put this trash on the internet. What I do argue with is their right to trick me into installing their spyware on my PC or their right to bypass the trickery by simply installing it without my knowledge. They may as well sneak into my house at night and bug my clothing or imprint a brand preference directly onto my DNA.
So what is the solution? Well first, anything that even resembles a disregard for an individual's privacy should be punishable by slow torture. Second, the internet should have multiple portals. Doorways that not only know what the web surfer wants to see, but more importantly, what he doesn't want to see. Last, search engines should be a little smarter about my search terms. When I want to refinance my mortgage, see porn, or increase my penis size, I will explicitly type those search terms into the engine. Don't return such results to me otherwise.
Having a degree in computer science and having a basic knowledge of the legal system, I know these things are easier said than done. Until someone can make some headway, I'll just have to sift through the garbage to find what I'm looking for.
Ah well...
Look, I don't want you to think I'm a cynic or anything. I know my last post was about hating rebates, and I hate to follow that up with a post about hating the internet. But seriously...
I don't mean to say that I hate the idea of the internet. It is definitely one of the most significant technological concepts of the century, but somewhere, something went horribly wrong. The internet in its current incarnation is the perfect example of what happens when anarchy is the order of the day.
For the umpteenth time I was asked to look something up at work today. And, of course, I also use the internet at home as a research tool. It seems like every day that passes, it gets harder and harder to find what I'm looking for. No matter what my search terms are, these always seem to be the first few results:
| Results 1 - 4 of approximately 979,867,613,995,235.2 for "guitar strings" |
Increase Your Size
Add inches and last longer with new Guitar String brand cream treatment. Please her for hours with this all natural...
www.thisallnaturalcreamreallyworksyoushouldtryit.com/ - Sept 15, 2004 - Similar Pages
Refinance Bob's Home of Bank
Listen to refinance Bob pluck his guitar strings of second mortgage refinancing. Bob makes the refinance process easier by singing the paperwork to you over the course of a 3 month...
www.nobodymakesrefinancingyourhomeloaneasierthanbob[phew!].com/ - Apr 10, 2005 - Similar Pages
Make Cash Fast
Become a virtualy guaranteed instantaneous possible millionare selling guitar strings from home! For a minimal signup fee you too can earn infinite cash through the exponential circle of profit...
www.signuptobecomesuccessful.no-thisisnotamway.iswear.really.com/ - Oct 2, 2001 - Similar Pages
Sexy Girls Waiting for You
Free nude pictures, bondage, shelikes to be tied up with a guitar string free free free no credit check come here for all naked barely legal anime hentai...
www.thesegirlsareallrealandwanttogettoknowyouallyouhavetodois
giveusyourcreditcardnumbersocialsecuritynumberbirthdateandmothers
maidenname.com/ - Jan 1, 2028 - Similar Pages
___________________________________________________________
Then, of course, there is always that one tantalizing link that seems perfect:
Buy Guitar Strings Online
Buy guitar strings and other music supplies from our trusted secure site. High quality music equipment, reasonable prices, and secure credit processing are our business. Jeff, this is the link you've been searching for. Click on it...
www.trustedmusicsupply.com/ - Dec 25, 0000 - Similar Pages
Son of a... Man, I hate that. Apparently all the legitimate sites have been driven offline by all the other junk. Don't get me wrong, if what your looking for is porn, all natural creams and supplements that claim to enhance a man's performance, or a way to supposedly make fast cash, the internet is a place to go. And it is possible to find what your looking for otherwise. You just have to sift through all this...stuff. Something has to be done.
But what?
Let me say outright, I don't believe in censorship. I believe in freedom of speech. That said, I also believe people should be encouraged to take other people's sensitivities and expectations into account before they express themselves. I don't argue the fact that these companies and individuals have the right to put this trash on the internet. What I do argue with is their right to trick me into installing their spyware on my PC or their right to bypass the trickery by simply installing it without my knowledge. They may as well sneak into my house at night and bug my clothing or imprint a brand preference directly onto my DNA.
So what is the solution? Well first, anything that even resembles a disregard for an individual's privacy should be punishable by slow torture. Second, the internet should have multiple portals. Doorways that not only know what the web surfer wants to see, but more importantly, what he doesn't want to see. Last, search engines should be a little smarter about my search terms. When I want to refinance my mortgage, see porn, or increase my penis size, I will explicitly type those search terms into the engine. Don't return such results to me otherwise.
Having a degree in computer science and having a basic knowledge of the legal system, I know these things are easier said than done. Until someone can make some headway, I'll just have to sift through the garbage to find what I'm looking for.
Ah well...
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