2-23-04 2:02 PM

"People forget that books are written by humans, not God, and very few authors are smart; most are artistic saps who want to live inside flowers."

    ~Ilona Ruhl

Our kids are going to be so much smarter than yours.

2-20-04 12:21 AM

Boo-YA! .... I recovered my valentine's day update.

Also, I purposefully deleted the two "updates" that I had made since it, because they were crap, and, being the webmaster here, I can do that.

However, just to maintain an accurate record of events, I shall sum them up now:

Jedwin, in a fit of giggling stupidity, exposed his pubes to me, and this, indirectly,  made me accidentally delete my valentine's day update.

There, that was pointless.

2-14-04 2:30 AM

Well, I can't put this off any further; I have to make an update about Valentine's day. Be forewarned, the writing, and even the logic that follows is not as polished as I would like. However, for this holiday I'm willing to sacrifice style to throw in an extra metaphor or two.

(Anybody who has not done so should go back and read my post about Valentine's day from last year, including the poem ... this post will make more sense with that in mind.)

Obviously, the impact of this "holiday" on me is different this year than it was last. For one thing, it cannot possibly serve as the searing, painful reminder of my solitude that it once was. The pain which this day caused me last year (and every year that I can remember before that) is wholly absent this year, due to an obvious change in my life. But, knowing me,  you can probably guess that I am not about to say that Valentine's day is now a wellspring of joy. But if it doesn't cause pain and it doesn't cause happiness, what does it cause?

The short answer is "nothing." Whereas before, this day was a mountain of pain, it is now a mere pimple of annoyance. Nothing else. It does not fill me with joy or love, it does not make me count my blessings ... it does nothing more than clog the airways with annoying commercials, and force me to write another update.

And that's possibly the stupidest thing about the holiday: not only does it cause despair in those who have no one to celebrate with, it also means nothing to those with reason to celebrate. Think about it: if the only time during the year when you realize your love for you partner is on February 14th, then your relationship is complete garbage. Do yourself a favor and end it. Honestly, can you fathom the quality of a relationship that is weak enough to be rekindled by the mechanistic motions of buying your "valentine" candy and flowers Awful. I hate to spew these kind of clichés, but if two people really love each other, they love each other every day. And some candy and flowers does not say "I love you," it says "I remembered that I was supposed to love you today." Furthermore, if not getting a person a stupid red teddy bear with a boring heart on it is going to make that person doubt your love, then you really need a new partner.

So, in total, what does this holiday do to people? Who does it hurt? Who does it benefit?

Well, obviously, it hurts the lonely. It hurts those people who are unhappy because they are alone, and want love. Those people who just want to fuck are not hurt, because, hell, they can use Valentine's as an excuse to do just that. So the people who are hurt the most are the ones who legitimately want a relationship. Isn't that just wonderful?

And who enjoys this day the most? Well, apparently it is the people who really believe that Valentines flowers and chocolates are a meaningful token of their love. This means that the people who derive the most pleasure from the supposed celebration of love are the people whose relationships are the most shallow, trifling, and meaningless. Even more so, people that need to bribe their partners for sex also love this holiday. Unlike what some commercials would have you believe, chocolates do not say "I love you." Actually, no ... that's not true. On most other days of the year they might. Any present given out of the blue, out of love, says "I love you." But any present given on Valentines day says "I remembered: now you have to reward me"...*unzips fly* Again, this is a wonderful indication of the merit of this holiday.

At this point I would like to note that most people who hate this holiday bitch about how Hallmark and Hershey's keep this holiday going to make money. Well, to these people I say, "Stop your bitching, bitches." Obviously, the companies that manufacture Valentine's products are the real beneficiaries of this day, but so what?  Business operate to make a profit, and if this day helps them accomplish this, more power to them. They cannot be blamed for the public's stupidity and gullibility. It is the people who buy into this crap, that celebrate the holiday that are the real scum.

This year, nothing would have stopped me from celebrating. Assuming that Ilona wanted flowers and candy today (which she most definitely does not, thank you very much), I could have gone out and bought some, wrapped them in red foil, put a note on top, and handed them to her with a stupid grin on my face. And hell, I could have a pretty good time doing so. But what would I really be celebrating? It could not possibly be our love, because, as I said before, if I needed a special day to celebrate this then it wouldn't be real love at all. It is my understanding is that  - this is important so pay attention - the thing that I would be celebrating is actually the pain of those who cannot celebrate with me. And for all of my moral ambivalence, I'll be damned before I start celebrating the pain of those who didn't earn it. We might as well have an "I can walk day," where we sell little teddy bears that get up out of wheel chairs and walk around. Wouldn't we just as easily call it "You can't walk day?" Would you celebrate that day? Would you celebrate it in front of cripples? If you would, then I'm sure you'll have no qualms celebrating "You're lonely day." You make me sick.

However, even with all that analysis, I still might have celebrated today, since my happiness is more important to me than other peoples. (Before you start giving yourself a self-congratulatory hand job, you should understand that the same thing applies to everyone ... everyone thinks about themselves first) But even with total disregard for the feelings of others, I still would not participate in Valentine's day, because celebrating would make me a stupid hypocrite of the worst sort. Why? Not because I hated the holiday last year. I have no problem with changing my opinions about things. If the reason I hated Valentine's day was petty or shallow, then I would have no qualms about reevaluating my feelings this year, and partying it up. No, the reason that celebrating would make me a hypocritical asshole is this:

If I celebrated Valentine's day today, I would be looking in a mirror set to a one year delay, and spitting in my own crying face.

2-10-04 3:52 AM

I'm sure that this has been observed and put to writing many times before - and more eloquently, at that - but I would like to recount my own realization that the impact and value of a compliment are proportional to the quality of the person giving it.

Today, my writing was complimented twice.

The first time was in my Writing the Essay Class, and the person giving the compliment was a very nice girl who happily admitted that she hates and, unsurprisingly, does not excel at writing. Although I do not remember her exact words, they were something on the order of "You are good at writing ... listening to what you write is interesting." This was a nice little undeserved boost to my self esteem, but nothing substantially more than that. After all, just because my writing could impress someone who's own writing is a subject of their scorn and dread does not say anything particularly meaningful about me. I smiled, politely said "thank you," and both the experience and the thought process ended there.

The second time was completely different. Now, instead of the compliment coming from what can be generalized as a random person, it came from someone who, aside from possessing a veritable cornucopia of other laudable qualities, happens to be the best writer that I personally know: Jon T. (Modesty, of course, will force him to disagree with my characterization; however, since he is hardly an impartial source on the matter, his protests, should he voice any, should be ignored.) Being that, in my eyes, Jon is a goal to aspire to rather than an equal, his statement that my writing is as good as his- a private statement which I, by the way, completely understand that I am now shamelessly betraying by making public - was a compliment of the highest degree. It was enough to actually make me stop and attempt to think of a way of accepting his compliment that would be worthy of its caliber. Beyond that, a second of meta-analysis reveals that it had enough impact on me to prompt the writing of this entire update.

The girl's compliment was blatant and unmistakable, and yet, inspired nothing more than a smile; Jon's compliment, while rather vague and veiled in euphemism, managed to not only make me glow with unexpected pride, but rethink my entire understanding of what a compliment even means.

At least for me, the wording of a compliment is, at best, cursory to the caliber of the person standing behind it.

2-9-04 4:48 AM

The "revised" ending to the Anime series Neon Genesis Evangelion - those of you interested in the original ending can read my previous post -  raises an interesting, albeit unoriginal, question: is it better to struggle for true happiness in a world of suffering, or to float in a state of preordained bliss?

Although the specifics are unimportant, the main character of the show eventually picks the former; he chooses to suffer in the "real" world, as opposed to eternally floating in the bliss of a world were there is no conflict. But is his choice the correct one? I, for one, don't know; I do, however, have some experiences that may provide fodder for analysis.

As any longtime reader of this site knows, I have, to a small extent, experienced both possibilities presented here. Not so long ago, nearly every moment of my life was, for lack of a better world, painful. Every word out of my mouth, every gesture, every human interaction was tinged with the unmistakable - at least for me - scent of loneliness and angst.

Obviously, this is no longer so. I am finally content.

But am I?

I "won" the struggle ... but in a sense I lost something too ... I lost the struggle itself - like my unhappiness, the struggle is merely a memory. Without any huge source of discontent, my life has become dominated by triviality. Lately, the only thing of any real concern to me is how much sleep I get. And while I admit that having sleep as my main problem in life is awesome, there is something lacking in an existence that devoid of discord. Being well-adjusted, so to speak, is tantamount to a dilution of my character, since almost anyone would deal with the situation of contentment the same way; it is adversity that distinguishes people; lacking this, we are all equally capable; there are no winners or losers unless people are racing each other.

But I am happy. I obviously can't complain about my position, and it is not my intent to do so; rather, I merely want to observe that victory is a tradeoff, because it means that the race is over.

But what does this mean? Just because I am happy does not mean that I am justified. In a sense, I am addicted to the most powerful drug imaginable, and am taking it at the expense of self-improvement or individuality. And I have no plans of doing otherwise.

I suppose this all means that if I were put in the position of the main character of Neon Genesis, I would have picked for humanity to float in useless bliss rather than continue to struggle. I could not live with the decision to return humanity to its natural state of constant suffering and struggle, even if such a state is far more useful than bliss.

But this is just proof that I am weak, not that it is the correct choice.

2-7-04 4:01 AM

Every memory I ever had has boiled away, leaving the crumbling, rotting refuse of the filth that has invaded my mind in the past hours. My body has burned away from the fires that this demonic match had set in what was once my blood; now all that is left is the grime that was too grotesque to burn; the laws of nature themselves could not agree to act upon it, so hideous was its form, but burned around it, leaving it - the bubbling feces of a hell-spawn so hideous that Satan himself averted his eyes as he banished it from hell - flowing through my charcoal veins.

I'm talking of course, about the original ending to the Anime Neon Genesis Evangelion. You - the lucky ones who have averted your eyes - do not yet know the meaning of the question "WHAT?" ... and may you never have to.

I hate Japan.

2-5-04 3:20 AM

Newsflash: Taking a seven hour long nap during the day inhibits sleeping during the night.

Also:

Jed talking about playdough: "It tastes like a spicy penny!"

2-3-04 3:02 AM

Well, I'm awake. And sick and such.

I've been drinking tea all day ... until I lost my fucking thermos bottle. I don't exactly know how one goes about losing a thermos bottle, but I managed. I know, I know ... I'm impressive.

Let's see ... I think that I'm starting to understand some linear algebra, so .. um .. yeah, I really have nothing to write about, but I'm awake, and don't want to watch an episode of Inuyasha which I've seen already ... maybe twice.

It's about 90 in the room, and I'm drinking hot tea and sweating like a pig. Jed doesn't seem to mind .. he's from the Philippines, don't you know?

Um ... yeah, so tomorrow maybe I'll feel better. Maybe not. Whatever.

I have nothing at all to write about.

Bye.