Terrible Movies

There was a time when simply sitting in front of a screen to watch a movie rendered me speechless. Everything I saw on the screen was magical, and I loved every second of it. I don't have any memories of watching a truly terrible movie from when I was smaller. I guess it just comes with childhood.

Often times when I revisit a precious memory from my childhood I notice that it is significantly less charming the second time around. We visit our childish Narnia and find that the fields are smaller and itchier, the trees are less exciting, and the mythical battles which used to be so prevalent seem to have disappeared (This is by no means an insult to Narnia, a suggestion that Narnia is for children, or that adults would find Narnia to be lame. Narnia is a real place and if you're telling me that Narnia isn't real or that it's lame, then life is not worth living anymore....sorry, I had to do that, I'm very protective of C.S.Lewis.)
We can't spend time mourning the death of our childish viewpoint. Although the world looses a lot of its charm as we grow older, it also looses a lot of its fences. We learn as we grow that every single human who is born on this planet gets a chance to make their dreams a reality. Growing up gives us more freedom, and the journey for self-actualization is an exciting one! Although we learn that life can be cruel, we also learn that life can be exhilarating. Those childish lenses were a beautiful and glorious thing! But we can never return to a moment we have already lived. Every point in life is a new stage, and although wonderful things from the past have to die, their place will always be filled by new wonderful things.

I was reading something online a few days ago, and I found this photo which basically summarizes all knowledge in the universe.

This last category, the things that we don't know that we don't know is the single most motivating mystery on planet earth. These things cannot be comprehended. It is our job to find them, and bring them into one of the other categories. When I read this summary of human knowledge, I immediately associated it with stages of life.
We cannot predict what a new stage of life will bring, that's what makes them so terrifying. They are an unknown unknown. Some may argue that they should be a known unknown because we are aware of our own ignorance. However, I would like to suggest that they are an unknown unknown. Although we are aware of our ignorance, it is not the ignorance which brings us terror. It is what lies within the ignorance! It is the actual constancy of this next stage in life. If a terrible car accident will occur in a week from now, and it will leave you paralyzed from the waist down, there is no way that you can have knowledge of this event. It is an unknown unknown. An unknown unknown does not have to be some revolutionary concept like another dimension or a new element, in this case, the unknown unknown simply exists because of time.
We must continue onward, because this is the only way we can bring something that we cannot comprehend into something which we can quantify.
The unknown unknowns are the things which bring us terror, but once we have conquered them, they will also bring us power. Time is not our enemy, it is our puppet-master. whatever we are handed tomorrow, we will have to take without argument. It is simply the way that life as we know it exists.

Some people see the unknown unknowns of life and are paralyzed by them. But the way that I see it is this: if you cannot change what is going to happen to you tomorrow, why should you waste the known knows and the known unknowns of today worrying about the unknown unknowns of tomorrow?

By their very nature unknown unknowns are.....unknown. We cannot be angry about their nature any more than we can be angry about the sky being blue, or gravity holding us down! Enjoy today! Let tomorrow be tomorrow.

Hulu+ or Netflix THAT is the real question Shakespeare!

If you're like me, you love the fact that for only $8 a month, the internet now offers you a plethora of entertainment. Whether it be a delightful full length movie, or a breath-taking plot twist on your favorite show, Netflix and Hulu+ now provide us some really affordable options. There's only one problem.

Both services have features which I love, and features that I hate! I LOVE the commercial free service Netflix flaunts, but Hulu has a significantly larger selection of shows! However, another downside of Hulu is that there's only the most recent season of any given show available. For example, I missed two seasons of one of my favorite shows, but I can't catch up on Hulu because I will have missed an entire season! That's no fun!

Anyway, my point is that I wish I could just kind of mesh the two. It would be so great to have the commercial free/ all seasons experience of Netflix, but with the selection and interface of Hulu+.
That's what I want for Christmas Santa! Come on now!

Apocalypse Eve, My New Favorite Holiday

So let me summarize. It's been an eventful night. My celebration of Apocalypse eve consisted of a long apocalypse movie marathon which is still going on as we speak. I have a collection of 6 apocalypse movies, and my goal is to finish all 6 before the day is over (assuming, of course, that the apocalypse does not happen, which is what I believe will happen today).

So why celebrate 12/21/12, you might ask? Well for me, this day is a significant historical landmark. This day has been an event of interest for centuries. It is, in essence, the 1 year birthday of the Mayan calendar. In another way, this is also kind of the death of the Mayan calendar. Either way, I thought it would be interesting to treat it as a holiday. It is sort of the Y2K event of the two-thousands.

I am delighted to report that the night has been a smashing success. This has been, without doubt one of the best nights of my life. I felt like I was celebrating history, in my own kind of geeky way, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I dove into the suspense, gasped with the heroes  and celebrated the victories. I let myself into every moment, as if it was happening from a window of my room, and the result was humbling and exhilarating.

I have seen many different apocalypse movies tonight (and also, as a bonus, I can now spell apocalypse correctly 100% of the time). Many of the more widely known apocalypse movies I have already seen. I am, after all, a huge movie nerd. I was aiming to watch new material instead of re-watching things I've already seen, so I went shopping and found a value pack with 6 apocalypse movies. I was sold.

The first movie I watched was "2012: Supernova". It was the least impressive of the movies I watched tonight. Mostly, I felt like the whole thing was too easy. I mean, by no means is a supernova a boring catastrophe, but pretty much all the things the team needed just kind of magically appeared. It seemed like they were too prepared for a phenomenon which is traveling at light-speed. How did they manage to detect it in the first place? The movie was all-right, but not impressive.

The next movie, "Storm" was a little more interesting, but still left things to be desired. The "natural disaster" was not one at all, but instead was a storm which people manipulated in order to direct and strengthen it. It was an interesting concept, but not really an apocalypse.

The third movie was one of the very best movies I've seen so far this Apocalypse Eve. It is called "Catagory 7: End of the World". Despite the melodramatic title, the movie was amazing!

There were just so many plot twists and parallel plots all happening at the same time. The characters were engaging, and I liked them immediately. Because of this, I was drawn more deeply into the plot. The movie was extremely long. It had two parts. I liked that there was just the right balance of complete and utter destruction, and joyful salvation. There has to be enough destruction to make the movie feel like the entire world really could just disintegrate. However, there also needs to be a long-shot plan which results in some sort of victory. This movie had all of these element, balanced perfectly. I genuinely applaud the directors of this film, it was truly well done.

Needless to say, after the previous masterpiece, the next movie had big shoes to fill. I was worried that all the rest of the movies would be downhill from there. However, the next movie was equally as good. So good, in fact, that I can not decide which I like better, the third or fourth movie in this marathon. The title is "10.5 Apocalypse". I think that perhaps both the third and fourth movies in this marathon were directed or produced by the same person or company. Both movies have the same sort of balanced parallel plots and engaging characters. Also, both movies have two parts, making them both extremely long.

Anyway, 10.5 Apocalypse was different because it featured a sort of chain event catastrophe sequence where each catastrophe was partially caused by the previous one. Also, only in this movie did I see such a wide variety of destructive forces. In most of the movies, one or two focused things cause the apocalyptic event. In this movie however, there were earthquakes, volcanoes erupting, sinkholes forming, tidal waves smashing, volcanic acid eroding structures, buildings collapsing, and at one point, there was even an impending nuclear accident/fallout which would kill millions. Overall, just when I thought that the suspense couldn't get any stronger, something else would happen which would push the whole situation higher. Great movie! Great movie indeed!!

The fifth movie might possibly be the worst movie I've ever seen. The title "2012: Doomsday, didn't seem too much different from the others. But it was comically dramatic, the acting was terrible, and the plot was heavy and laborious. The entire movie was also filled with this overly dramatic background music which made every scene just as sickening as the last. It was crammed full of mismatched religious traditions and prophesies. The goal never seemed worth the amount of drama required to reach it. For example, the brave trek featured in one part of the plot was all so that a statue could be returned to a temple. The statue looked like it had been made hastily and then covered with gold spray paint. It was.....pathetic. Anyway, you can't win them all. On to the last film.

The final movie in this marathon was simply named, "Apocalypse". This movie, although it seemed like a blockbuster in comparison with the last one, was fairly strange. The apocalypse mentioned in the title was less of a natural disaster, and more of an inter-terrestrial terrorist attack. The terrorist was a mentally ill woman with a fetish for word play and puzzles. The vessel was an ancient spaceship which everyone assumed was abandoned. There were some charming things about this movie, some of the characters were engaging, but overall this movie isn't one I'll watch again.

So there we have it. I have officially watched somewhere between 10-12 hours of apocalypse movies, and it is now close to noon on 12/21/12. Happy apocalypse day everyone! I'm going to go get some sleep!

Apocalypse, an extremely difficult word to spell

We've all seen those films. Where the solidity of the earth fails, earthquakes open up great chasms in the ground, entire continents shift and protest. The sea rises up and smashes the statue of liberty, the fire rains down from the clouds, and hail the size of cars smashes buildings. Fires are everywhere, electricity fails and phones are useless. Cities fall into the sea and planetary poles shift. Suddenly, icy cold is descending on the people and no one can escape.

Apocalypse. A great force of nature which would render our planet lifeless and barren. Why do I write about these things? Well, as I write it is currently past midnight on December 21, 2012, a date widely believed to signal the end of the world.

These prophecies supposedly originated from the ancient Mayans, who created an elaborate calendar system which, of course, was not indefinite. The Mayans wrote that the end of the calendar signaled the beginning of a "new age". This statement is clearly ambiguous, but nevertheless, for centuries it has been widely believed that the world would cease to exist past 2012. When I say widely believed, I am not saying that the majority of people believe it, but only that as far as apocalypse prophesies go, the 2012 prophesy seems to be the most significant doomsday prophesy.

I do not claim to be an expert in Mayan culture, nor have I extensively studied the subject, however, I am one of the people who do not believe 12/21/12 signals the end of the world. Perhaps I am just one of the great gullible masses, and a massive meteor really is plummeting toward earth to wipe out humanity. After all, in the movies, the people who see the truth are few and they are ridiculed. The majority of people go about with their lives until the very last second when the world is crashing down and they realize that they were wrong.

In reality, and excuse me for being callous, but I honestly don't care. What am I doing tonight? I'm watching just about every apocalypse movie that was ever made, just for the fun of it. My viewpoint on life tends to be a very liberating one. I figure that if I'm going to die, whether it be old age, freak accident, murder, or act of nature, I'll just deal with that when I get there. Why worry about every possible crisis? There are so many different things that can go wrong, it's amazing! My legacy is that I'll deal with every crisis once I can clearly see it, and I'll do my best to advert catastrophe when I can, but I'm honestly not going to loose any sleep over it.

Look at it this way. If I'm going to live in a house, there are some important things that I can do to keep myself safe. I'm going to put fire detectors in every room and keep them well-serviced. I'm going to map escape routs and make sure I know how to get out of my bedroom window. I'm going to put a security system in the house, not cut corners, and a good, healthy pit bull never hurts.

I'm going to wear my seat belt when I drive, and never drive intoxicated. The point is, I'm going to do all the routine things which can keep me and the people I love safe, but when it comes to everything else, I'm just not going to worry about it.
If a random bolt of lightning strikes a wire which runs into my house, in through the walls, into my room, through my socket, into my laptop's cord, and electrocutes me through my ear-buds  there is absolutely nothing I can do about that. So why worry about it?



When it comes to things which I have no control over, I would say the most obvious of these is nature. We see every day what happens when nature grows restless. Tornadoes, hurricanes, volcanoes, tsunamis; these are all natural disasters which strike suddenly and without prejudice. If you ever wanted a power which recognizes equality, it would be nature.

These disasters devastate poor and rich alike, killing whoever can not scramble to safety. Another factor which makes these killers effective is that every one of them is a little different. There is an air of unpredictability which makes escape risky and flawed. Overall, if there is anything which I cannot plan for, in any way shape or form , it is a natural disaster. And the apocalypse, if it ever does occur, would be the mother of all natural disasters. For all we know, the entire planet would disintegrate. Where do you think meteors come from? They are pieces of something.
My point is that an apocalypse event is something which, by my nature, I simply do not feel the need to worry about. If it happens, it will happen, and I will deal with it them.

Life is such a fragile and beautiful blessing. The more I learn about science, the more intricate and interconnected it becomes. In fear of sounding like a granola hippie, I'm going to go ahead and say...........we should celebrate life. I don't mean that we should all go outside in the rain and soak in the positive energy or some nonsense like that. (Although if that is your method of celebrating life, there is nothing wrong with it I'm sure) I'm just saying that for right now, how about we all just take a minute or two to soak in the world. Breath the air and love that it is around, feel the ground and love that it is strong, absorb your controlled environment and love that you're not outside (which in my case would be bitterly cold, extremely windy, and unpleasantly damp.) Love where you are, and leave the world to go forward, wherever it is destined or fated or just decides to go.

Human 100-300 pounds

Earth 5, 973,700,000,000,000,000,000,000 kilograms (estimated number calculated by this source)
(1 kilogram= 2.2 pounds)

Conclusion? Sit back and enjoy the ride, nature wins every time.

The Nerd Arsenal

One evolving aspect to my skill portfolio is my growing technical knowledge. Having technical know-how can be so rewarding, and as I've grown more proficient, I'd like to share a few things that have aided my journey into the world of nerdness.

I think one thing that every geeky sort of person can agree on, is that having some sort of cloud to play with is extremely helpful. Now, my goal is to eventually find a cloud service where I can backup all of my photos (over 200gb) and one which will also back up my laptop in real time. I'd like a solid cloud backup option which doesn't charge increasing amounts of money as the storage needs increase. These cloud services do exist, I just haven't yet committed over the money needed to begin this endeavor. However, while I work up to this eventual goal, my cloud service of choice has been Dropbox. 

Dropbox is a fantastic free cloud service which will easily fulfill the needs for a small, highly adaptable cloud service. One of the reasons that I love having Dropbox is that with the compatible app found on my smartphone, I can now transfer files between my laptop and phone without worrying about cables. 

Another fantastic geeky necessity is an external hard drive. Mine is a two terabyte drive, which might be overkill for the less ambitious storage seeker, but for my needs it has been amazing. One thing to keep in mind with all forms of digital storage is that if data is left alone for a very long time and it is never accessed or modified or moved, it can become corrupted. An external storage device is not foolproof data storage, alternate backups should also be made. 

One of my favorite devices that every budding tech-savvy person should have is a decent quality SATA cable. I prefer a USB to 2.5 cable because of the obvious ease in compatibility, but other alternatives are just as effective. It is so nice to be able to access hard drives directly instead of relying on operating systems or software. This can be especially helpful if the laptop operating system is in a crash cycle. It's nice to be able to get all of the data off of the disk and into another location where it can be scanned for viruses. 

The next necessity for smooth technological tinkering is a solid antivirus software. It doesn't really matter if it's free, you just need to search for which free antivirus software has received the highest ratings for the current year. This is your best bet for an antivirus program. I like to have an antivirus and malware both running on my system. They overlap a tad, but I've never had a virus, so I'm not complaining. Also, you should have an antivirus program running on your computer whether or not you have consistent internet connection or not. I don't care if you don't have wifi, the reality is that having an antivirus program running on your computer is not going to hurt anything, and you should be cautious about having an exposed system regardless of your wifi situation. 

Another wonderful thing to have is some sort of operating system bootable device, CD, or DVD. I have a windows 7 ISO image on a thumbdrive, and it has saved me many a heartache. Which just for clarifications sake, an operating system ISO image is essentially a miniature operating system. It is what you need to install an operating system on a blank harddrive, or to fix a defective operating system. It is the same thing that you buy in a box at a store like Circuit City or Best Buy. Also, just to be clear, having a bootable ISO image of an operating system is in no way illegal. If you buy the operating system online, the file you download is an ISO file. 

The next thing I'd like to mention is called a VPN protocol. This service, provided by a large number of companies for a monthly or yearly fee, is basically the next step in internet security. The concept is complicated, but to simplify, a VPN protocol is essentially an internet "tunnel". The service provides you with a large number of servers that you can connect to. These servers are located world-wide, and have IP addresses to match. When you connect to a remote server using a VPN service, all of your internet activity will be conducted from the location of the server to which you are connected at the time. Web trackers, and web sites which gather information from the computers that visit will now be gathering data which says you are in a different location. Not only is your physical location protected, but your computer is protected from remote access. You essentially "hide" behind a remote IP address, and your ISP cannot track your internet activity. The users of this service used to be limited to individuals who have shady things to hide, but as internet security has become a bigger issue in this day and age, VPN protocols are becoming widely known in businesses and among everyday internet users as a valuable safety and privacy tool. 

This is my list so far of different things which I have gathered which make my life easier every day. They're just nice to have around. I certainly will be adding to this list, but this is what I have so far. 

Knowledge

I am different.

I think everyone eventually makes this realization at some point in their lives. It’s an important part of growing and becoming an individual. There are varying levels of extremity, but everyone looks around at some point in their lives and notices for the first time that they are unique. Some may realize it at a young age, perhaps while playing on the playground, and then never really think of it again. Other people struggle with their individuality their entire lives.

But it isn’t just identity is it? On the contrary, it seems that people who dive more deeply into their own self-understanding are the same people who dive more deeply into every other facet of life. Some people just seem to live on the surface, never analyzing, never pondering, and other people live at a deeper level.

I don’t think one is better than the other. They are both methods of life, and everyone succeeds in living. I don’t think that it’s possible to fail at LIFE. After all, to live means only that you metabolically process oxygen and nutrients, excrete waste, take up space, and eventually die. This isn’t a sad or morbid way to look at life. Actually, if you think about it, this way of thinking about life is quite liberating. Why be afraid to fail when failure is impossible?

But these people who live more deeply just have an innate desire to KNOW and to understand! And unfortunately, if they cannot come to terms with their own desire to understand more and to dig for deeper meaning, it’s quite possible they will miss out on simplicity. One of the most important things to learn about living is how to stop pushing forward. There is always something to do, isn’t there? There is ALWAYS something that can be done. Although for many people, the ability to slow down and relax comes naturally, for other people this ability must be learned. But more importantly, these people must REALIZE who they are. If they do not realize, and if they do not learn how to enjoy the world, they will rush through their entire lives. They will hurry and hurry and hurry and never get ahead. Because let’s face it, there is always something that can be done in life.

All of this comes down to self-realization. Sometimes I believe life would be easier if I could live on the surface the way I see some of my peers living. It’s as if for some reason I was born caring about the whole world, seeing everything through everyone else’s eyes, living as an observer. Blacks and whites disappear into a world filled with shades of grey. Even when I look at myself, I am sometimes overwhelmed by how complex my own personality is. But it is not a complexity which is altogether confusing. And I have found that knowledge is power. Nothing is a stranger to me if I can learn about it, myself included. The more I learn about myself, the more comfortable I become with who I am. Over time, I realized that I make more sense if I remove myself from mankind as a whole and examine my nature independently.

I am, innately, a solitary person. The more I accepted my introverted nature, the less frightening it seemed. And the less I tried to fit myself into a social world which confused me, the less confusing it appeared. After a while I realized that I make more sense to myself if I imagine that I am an entire different species of human. I can live in a world of people, friends, family, and coworkers more harmoniously if I stop trying to fit myself into their canvas of puzzle pieces. I am simply not one of them. And over time, as I stopped trying to be one of the masses, I felt less lonely and more integrated. I think perhaps it was because when I was constantly comparing myself to them, I felt alienated and different, but once I realized that I simply cannot be one of them, my differences became acceptable. I suppose it would be how a cat would feel once it realized that it was not a dog. Imagine how frustrating it would be If a cat had been living its entire life trying to bark at cars, but had all along been wondering why none of the other dogs could climb trees and walk along fence tops! The entire picture becomes more understandable once the poor cat realized that it was not a dog, but another mammal altogether.

The same was the case for me. I am different, a different type of human. I think differently from all of my friends and family, and sometimes, when I explain my thought processes, I am met with silence and confusion. Now I believe that some people who know in their soul that they are different from the world become bitter. They push and try to cram themselves into social boxes where they do not fit. This only makes their differences more obvious. But there are others, like myself, who handle things differently. My goal in life is integration. I want to blend. I want to function smoothly in society. Why should I make myself seem like an alien? It is enough that I know in my heart that I am different. My own unique viewpoint on life enriches my life every day in ways that are astounding. I would be lying if I said that I don’t often feel superior to others. If they could only see through my eyes for an hour! Everything is layered; everything can be followed, integrated, grown and linked to everything else. We live in a world of intersecting and ever changing dynamics. Everything is related to everything else! There is so much to know, and everything I learn adds onto and enhances everything I already know. I love that about life.

And this mental integration which for so long handicapped me in my relationships with other people eventually became the single most wonderful part of my life, I only had to set it free! Unfortunately however, the way I see the world which makes science so simple and effortless also makes people confusing and convoluted. This is often the case with introverts and people who are strong in science and critical thinking. I find social norms strange and confusing. Simple things like small talk and friendships may be second nature for many people, but for me they took lots and lots of practice. I spent years of trial and error learning social customs which most people learn within a few weeks or months.

I think often people like me who do not get society as a whole are labeled as people with “rough teenage years” or who went through “phases”. And often, the investigation goes no further. However, my nature is analysis, and I needed to know why I am the way that I am. Once I realized the reasons I struggled so much with understanding and acting appropriately in social situations, it took all of the confusion out of my behavior. In fact, if I could have been given an early dose of self-understanding, I probably could have prevented many of the social catastrophes I blundered into. In much the same way, a person with low blood sugar can prevent fainting if they just keep some food with sugar nearby. It’s just a matter of knowing beforehand. I guess that’s just life. If I had a mainstream personality I would have been able to understand myself more easily, and there would be less confusing time spent in exploration limbo. 

You see, knowledge is where real power lies. Why do you think there are historians, and writers, and journals, and photos? Every generation passes its wisdom and new knowledge on to the next generation. In a way, I think that we’re afraid that if we don’t pass what we've learned and our stories on to the world, that we’ll just kind of….cease to exist. We’d disappear, no longer matter, hold no value, be forgotten….we’d just….vanish. That truly must be the worst fate for any human being.

Imagine if you woke tomorrow, and suddenly the police come in and threw you out of your own home for trespassing. Another person who resembles you is now living your life. And the most infuriating part is that no one seems to notice the difference! You employers hand him your paycheck, your mailman brings him your mail, your dog whimpers and runs to him. Even your own wife and children look you in the eye and deny that they know you! Every high school, college, photo you've been in, friend you know now accepts the impostor as the genuine individual. You have been effectively erased from history. What a truly horrific nightmare this would be!

This, my friends, is why knowledge is the true currency of planet earth. I don’t know a single individual who would trade their place in history for a lifetime of wealth. After all, what good is wealth if your name and story were blotted out of history the moment you died? Your whole life would have been spent as a ghost. You would build a life of memories which would disappear forever in an instant. You would lovingly form relationships with people who would never even remember that they loved you.

Yes, it is knowledge which gives us meaning, and holds us together in an ever-growing web of human knowledge. It is a web which each of us sees and experiences; a web, into which, each of us adds our own unique branching and inter-connected contribution. But I would like to suggest that self-knowledge is the most significant type of knowledge that we can acquire. Self-knowledge is a key which each of us receives, and with it we can decode the world. Without it, we can never hope to understand the universe, and our place in it. 

I think we often forget...

I think we often forget...

What rage we felt that day! We were not strangers, but brothers! Five minutes earlier the man walking next to you was unfamiliar, now, you are comrades.
The smoke was billowing, people were crying. Was it an accident? Was it an error? Was it even reality? Surely not. But then the second plane hit and every eye that saw it knew....this was deliberate. What sort of person could justify this unholy slaughter!?
People were running, rumors flew, and tempers flared. Through the smoke there was a sickening screech and a rumble that shook the sea. People screamed and watched in horror as the first tower fell. It was as if the earth swallowed the monster in one gulp. White dust covered every surface, and debris floated through the air. It was serene in a sickening sort of way.
There was a united sinking of hearts as those standing in the streets imagined all of the people trapped inside the buildings; injured, dying, or dead already.
"We should kill them! The people who did this, we should bomb them!" cried one man as disbelief turned to horror and rage.
The whole country watched as the second tower fell, and the whole country shook with fear. Was this the beginning of something much worse? Was the entire world under attack? Who was targeting the United States?
Above all, at that moment, every man, woman, and child in the United States of America were....UNITED.
We stood as one reckoning force, crying out in rage against this attack on our homeland. We bled with our brothers and sisters trapped in the rubble, and we supported the injured and weak. We put our differences aside, and stood up.....as AMERICANS!!

I think we often forget how that day felt to us.
Sometimes I listen to the debates I hear around me about the trending issues, and I wonder, is this really the most important thing? Pro life versus pro choice, who cares? How about pro mutual respect and support instead? Republican versus Democrats? Why do we have to fight over labels? Republicans and Democrats died side by side on September 11! I guarantee they weren't arguing over the correct method of regulating healthcare when the building collapsed under their feet.
I'm not saying these things aren't important. I'm just saying that I think we get caught up in the logistics so much, that we can't remember what really matters, running America for the American people!

We should be brothers and Americans first, and then the rest will come more naturally.

Sometimes I think we should sit all the politicians down before a big decision, and play ground zero footage from September 11 just for a little perspective. I believe the greatest shame would be for us to forget that day and what it meant to us.

Changes

Hey fellow bloggers and meager followers. I've made a recent change to my blog. If you'll notice, to the righthand side of the page (from a laptop or desktop web browser) there used to be a disclaimer informing you that all of the pictures on my blog are my property, do not steal, I have the copyright, yadda yadda.

But to be honest, this self imposed policy has been hampering the original reason I made the blog, for self-expression. Yes, I would very much like for people not to copy photos I've taken and use them as their own, that's rude. But let's be honest, google's little spiders run all over the Internet collecting whatever photos they want to. If I take a photo off of google's photos tab, there's no way I can be sure that the photo isn't copyrighted. It may have been used dozens of times all over the Internet.

The thoughts and ideas and words I write are the real reason I've made this blog, not to showcase my photography or to create a utopia where only things I've created exist.

So in conclusion, this policy is gone. I will be writing for self-expression, and I'll use whatever photos i want to use. I guess, the best way to express my new train of thought is this, if you don't want me to intentionally or accidentally plagiarize your photography, don't put it on the Internet in a way which makes it susceptible to right-clicking.

Homeless

I saw him a few weeks ago. He was standing in the median, holding a sign. His sign was fairly typical. Homeless, traveling, broke, hungry, family to support, etc. I didn't see his clothing too well, I was driving past fairly quickly. I did see his eyes though.
As I was driving past, he was walking across the on-ramp, back to a woman sitting on the other side. She too, was wearing tattered clothes, and she looked tired. For a split second, I glimpsed his face, crystal clear in my eyesight. There were tears in his eyes, pain in his dejected face. He wiped away a tear, dropped his gaze, and then he was gone. The light had turned green, and he became lost in my rear view mirror.

I couldn't get his face out of my head for the rest of the day. I've always been taught to be leery of people with signs. These roadside beggars have been classified as "alcoholics", "lazy", or "dangerous". But what about the people who really are down on their luck?

More than likely the reason that dejected face struck me so acutely is because....I've been there. Not begging on the side of the road, I have too much pride for that, but I've been down on my luck before. I've slept on the couch of someone who didn't want me there. I've looked for work in a town where there were no jobs. I've spent long days in libraries and Starbucks coffee shops. I've walked the sidewalk of a busy street with nowhere to go and no way to get there. I know how it feels.

And maybe that acute experience with failure is what made that face stick in my brain like a poisoned hook. It was a cold chill of the past, a bitter reminder of a time when life was cold, bleak, and heartless.

Today I drove through that same intersection, and although the face had changed, the story was the same. This time it was a young couple. They held signs, him standing, and she, sitting at his feet.
Thoughts raced around my head. What if they're just getting easy money? What if they aren't really down on their luck? What if they aren't really hungry, homeless, traveling, unemployed, or raising a family?
But this time, I reached into my pocket, pulled out that bill I was saving for a rainy day, and held it out with a smile.

Who cares what their reasons are? Sure, I can't verify their story or their intentions. All I know is that there was a time when I needed help, and a hand reached out the preverbal window for me. I had nothing, nowhere to go, nothing to cling to, and I can never describe how grateful I was for that assistance. Don't they deserve for someone to take that risk for them?

I do not own rights for this photo

Stereotypes: My Nemises

I'm extremely annoyed. Now, I don't usually begin posts this way so I'll explain.
There is something I covet in this world more than money or success or love of life itself. I jealously watch others who are lucky enough to have it and I boil inside. Occasionally I feel like I could actually leap out and grab it, but something always jerks me back and slaps my wrist.
This thing, that I covet so much is......short hair. I'm not talking about a pageboy-cute-pixie-girl haircut, I'm talking about a straight-up, hair generally about four inches long, extremely short boy-cut.

I really and truly hate having long hair. Occasionally I look in the mirror and like the long blond locks, but generally, I detest caring for long hair. I hate blow-drying it after showers, I hate fixing it so it looks like I enjoy having it, I hate dealing with it when it's humid and my hair decides to freak out like I rubbed a balloon over it and then I tried to curl it while simultaneously juggling chain saws. I HATE HAVING LONG HAIR!

However, even though I hate long hair more than I hate clowns, society says I need it. In our day-and-age short hair is allowed for boys, lesbians, and extremely feminine women. If you don't fall into one of these categories, it's not okay. I know this from experience, see in high-school, I was attempting to solve my abhorrence of long hair with an "inbetweener" cut.

That's me, on the left, in highschool. An inbetweener cut is long enough to classify as semi-pixi-cut, yet short enough so I didn't actually have to deal with long hair. As a general rule, I was a social outcast in highschool. Now I'm not blaming this completely on the hair, after all, I matured much more slowly than I'd like to admit, however, I do believe the hair contributed.
Once I started college, grew my hair out, (and matured....a lot) I have worked my way up the social ladder. Nowdays, when I actually take the time to fix my hair, (which is about 2% of the time, the rest of the time it's either straightened or pony-tailed) I get tons of compliments. I have even expressed my lust for a boy-cut to a few of my closer friends, and they are skeptical that I would be able to "pull it off".

See, the problem is that I don't fit into any of the three acceptable boy-cut categories.

1) Boy

Clearly, this is the most obvious way to qualify for short hair......actually being a boy. And obviously I do not fit into this category. 

2) Lesbian

This is another category of people that are allowed to have extremely short haircuts. I, like any teen growing up in the 2000's had to, at one time or another, decide where I stood along the gay/not gay line. I never had any lesbian doubts to begin with, so I also do not qualify for this category of short-hair.

3) Extremely "Feminine/Attractive" or "Famous" Female

Short hair on straight women becomes socially acceptable when:

a) the woman is excessively feminine. As long as the woman is feminine enough (clothes, jewelry, makeup, a boyfriend never hurts) the short hair is considered an accessory and doesn't drag her towards the ambiguous "I can't tell if she's gay or not" line. 

b) The woman is extremely attractive. I'm talking about the kind of attractive that stands out in a crowd and causes car accidents. If a girl is that attractive, it doesn't matter what she does or how she wears her hair, it just ceases to matter. 

c) The woman is famous. Let's face it, celebrities get a free pass. If you're a movie star or singer ect, you can do anything you want to do because society already loves you.  

What a nightmare!!! Social stereotypes are worse than politics! In summary, I'm not a boy, I'm not a lesbian, and I'm not famous, excessively feminine, or extremely attractive. I'm not saying that I'm ugly, I'm just saying that I'm no Kiera Knightly! 

It's awful! I can not successfully pull off a boy-cut without repercussions! If, at some point, I decide that I don't care what people think and I go ahead and rid myself of my labor-intensive locks, I will be stepping into a dangerous area. This area is called, I am cool/original or self-confident enough to defy social conventions altogether! And honestly, I'm not sure if I have that kind of courage.

Someday, my friends, I hope that we can get past these social conventions far enough for people like me, who hate petty guidelines, to live happy, successful, fulfilled lives without sacrificing hair-happiness to get it.

UPDATE:

After linking this page to my Facebook wall I received a large number of comments and emails from friends who felt the same way I did, or who recommended I go ahead with cutting my hair. Because of this, on September 20 I cut my hair. I have also added a new category of woman to the list of women who can "pull off" short hair: 

Author

Feminist: A women who believes in equal rights for men and women, and finds predominately male-established social rules regarding women to be confining and arbitrary.

The Conductor

He stands up slowly. The spotlight dwarfs him, making him a solitary silhouette in a world of darkness. Each bow is frozen in the air, poised above the strings. The spotlight softens and widens, revealing the pit of musicians. Violins, violas, and cellos helplessly lie at the mercy of the hands that hold them. They thirst for guidance. They long for gentle love to coax a melody, sweet and pure, out of their willing souls. The potential for beauty reverberates sharply around the massive room like an electrical shock. Suspense is thick, blinking away sweat and fear, the musicians wait for their cue.

Once again the silhouette commands attention. Time slows to a crawl. The spotlight forces the lone figure to trust that his music will appear in the air, in the darkness. He is alone in the great hall. Caging him into the solitary scene, the spotlight beats him into submission. Running down his back, he feels a single bead of sweat defying his strict orders of courage. Yet, even with his feelings of impending doom, the master of the melody raises his hands with an ease that comes with repetition. The great event is mere seconds away. One………….Two…………….Three……………Four; the hands gain courage with each beat.

The deafening first note raises the hair on the back of every neck. Like a jet passing through the barrier of sound, the colossal sonic boom seems to echo through the hall even after it has been chased away by the next measure. The violins harmonize with perfect pitch. Each violin appears to be playing itself. Musicians have faded away; the instruments take over and form a dictatorship. No pitch unless it is perfect pitch, no note unless it is the perfect note. The sorrow of each chime is humiliating and humbling. Like sweet honey, the violins pick up the melody effortlessly. Swelling and fading, swelling and fading, the violins waltz this dance to the death.

The violas take control of the undertones. The violins may be dominating the tsunami, but the violas kill the survivors in the rip tide. Swift and deadly, the violas grasp the hearts of the audience and torture them into falling in love. Rosin wafts through the air at each abrupt collision of string and bow. The staccato is hypnotizing. Clashes of blue and yellow explode against the black horizon. Melting into one, the violins bow to the violas, enticing them to join the fatal waltz. Each note is unique, a moment in time caged and presented like a bouquet. Each stanza bursts into the present, and then fades quickly into the past without a second chance at perfection. Antagonizing each other in this melodious tug-of-war, the violins and violas support this frail balance called music. 

The cellos suddenly swoop into the fiasco like a powerful explosion. Flirting with the melody, the cellos sway in and out of the way, laying the foundation with pride and bold strength. Accepting the role with grandeur, the cellos pick up the evolving sculpture and mold it into the spherical reflection of beauty it was always fated to become. The low current of the cellos moves effortlessly among the light pattering sunbeams that the violins are scattering throughout the great room.

All of this the silhouette anticipates and prepares. He stands, introverted by the massive floodlight, preparing each trill, catching each note. Caught up in his enjoyment, he not only hears, but he lives the music. No longer is he singled out in the auditorium. Instead, the entire world is engulfed into his light, and his dream. He moves with the music. Directing with enthusiasm, he gives the cellos their courage, the violas their majesty, and the violins their energy. He whispers loving words into the darkness. He swells with the crescendos, he floats with the pianissimos, and he antagonizes the fortissimos. This lone figure, he is one with the beauty.

As the last note fades into silence, there is nothing but empty air. The standing ovation is overdue, but it does not appear. His eyes open slowly; a single tear rolls down his cheek and hits the stage with a resounding crash. The music is over, the finale has been dealt.

They watch him from the door.

“A madman,” they mutter, “a raving lunatic.” The nurses shake their heads as they pass his room. Medication is the answer, some of them hypothesize. The doctors discuss solemnly, “If we just get the right combination of drugs, maybe we can pull him out of his crazy fantasy world and back into reality.” One by one they wander away. As they leave, the ragged conductor sinks down onto the floor. He feels the cold concrete underneath him, and he sighs. The lights start to go out one by one, it’s time for bed. As the last light flickers and fades away, a small voice breaks the silence. Quietly, with only the darkness as his witness, “I’m not crazy, I’m the only one who’s alive……I’m the only one.”

Realist versus Pessimist

I've always strongly associated myself with the title of "realist".
Clinging to the strong, sensible sound it portrays, I've mentioned time and time again that I am, have always been, and will always be, a realist.
I often say, "I see the good in good situations, and I see the bad in bad situations. I don't sugar coat things and I don't blacken the good things in life. I'm right in the center, seeing things exactly the way they are."

However, while I've been saying I'm a realist, I've also been saying that I am a cynic and a philosopher at heart. Both of these things are realities that I can not deny.
Recently I've been wondering, can I truly be a cynic and a realist at the same time? These things seem contradictory.
As I've been examining this more closely, I've come to the conclusion that, even though I don't like the way it sounds, I am more closely associated with pessimistic qualities than those of a realist.
I guess I'm a realist who leans towards pessimism. I see the good things in life, but I don't trust their validity and I don't expect them to last. When I'm enjoying the pleasant things in life, there's a little part of me that I have to ignore.
I guess this pessimistic tendency of mine is something often seen in people who have to deal with depression as I do.
My acquired ability to ignore my pessimistic feelings is a very positive skill.
If I were to listen to my cynical/pessimistic side all the time I would never be able to enjoy positive things.
These pessimistic shades through which I view the world have been a permanent part of my life for as long as I can remember. It's easy to see how a person who is constantly ignoring the silver lining and expecting tornados could develop a sense of despair or hopelessness.

My cynical side looks at love and sees future heartbreak, it looks at my health and vigor and dreads old age, it looks at my successes and weighs them against my failures constantly. My pessimistic side looks at friendship and sees only that everyone leaves. It looks at the joy of owning pets at whispers how foolish it is to love an animal who only lives for a decade or so.

These are the whispers of anger, fear, and despair that I hear every day.
However, as I've grown older, my pessimism has quieted into the background. I've learned objectivity, and fostered a sense of perspective that has smoothed my once rocky terrain of emotions into a horizon of hills and occasional boulders.

I'm sure many a psychiatrist would read this blog entry and comment dryly about the wonders of modern medicine. "Just look at how the vast world of anti-depressants has benefited this once-troubled child and turned her into a level headed young adult!"
Perhaps the wonders of modern medicine did have a part in my emotional development, but I believe there is a lot to be said for self-searching. Meditating on the realities of life, learning how and why you react the way you do, and above all else, embracing your personality, learning how to live with your flaws, and giving yourself the benefit of forgiving and forgetting your own mistakes.

I guess in the long run I inherited some of my pessimism, but I also found a lot of wisdom along the way.

Colorful World

Red, orange, green, pink, blue, purple, yellow, our world is full of vibrant colors. They exist everywhere, brightening our lives in ways we often take for granted.
I've been pondering colors lately.
In their most basic form, colors are a result of the visible light color spectrum. Light hits an object, and various wavelengths of light are absorbed and reflected resulting in the color we perceive.

Color is, therefore, a perception. This conclusion poses a few interesting questions. If color is the product of wavelengths of light, does color even exist in the dark?
Some would argue that the color of a lemon exists even in the dark because darkness is temporary. Every time there is darkness, light is close behind. I disagree. Night is a period of time just like day, one could argue that light is temporary.

In the dark, colors are not perceived. If I stand in the middle of my yard in the dark and I pick up a piece of grass, it doesn't matter how strongly my logic tells me that grass is green, I will not be able to perceive that color unless I take it into some form of light.
Because of this, physics tells us that in the dark, grass is both colorless and every color at the same time.
Without light to help us perceive the color of grass, the color does not exist. Then I have to ask myself, if color is a perception that can be perceived at one moment, then be non-existent the next, is color real?

If I have a five dollar bill that appears and disappears when in different atmospheres, I would be skeptical about its solidity, its existence even.

Not only is color a perception, but it also is the product of the anatomical and physiological makeup of our eyes and brain. Adding further to the shaky existence of color, some people are colorblind. Something about the makeup or function of their eyes causes them to not perceive certain colors. If I look at a green leaf and someone else looks at it and sees no color, does the color exist or not exist?
Also, we have a very limited understanding of how animals see colors. Perhaps a yellow lemon is not a yellow lemon to them. Perhaps to some specific animal, lemons are blue. Who am I to argue that my perception is more accurate or more correct than another person or animal's perception?If three different beings perceive a lemon in three completely different ways, can I really argue to the reality and validity of my perception. Can I claim that color exists and is concrete if it can vary in such extreme ways. After all, each person/animal's perception of a lemon's color is just as valid and accurate as the other person or animal.

Whatever the reality of color happens to be, when I look outside on a gorgeous fall day and I see the colorful leaves, the fresh blue sky, the fluffy white clouds, the flutter and song of a bird passing by, I smile. Accident or purposeful creation, real or non-existent, color is a blessing I take for granted every day.

Forever

Gone is a long time, it kinda sounds like forever. And forever is a strange word, it's hard to imagine.
Sometimes I think I can picture forever. I picture it like this.

Take a laser beam, and shoot it right up through the stars. It would be a special laser beam, of course, one that was stronger than a volcano, and one that stayed strong, no matter how far away you shine it. It would start up like a roar on earth and shoot up past the moon in an instant. It would sail past all the planets like lightning, it would brush galaxies, and streak through astroid belts. And no matter how far and how fast you followed it in a space shuttle, you would never be able to catch up with the end of that red line of light. It would be billions of lightyears away from earth, but it would just keep going and going and going.

Then I picture zooming out on the whole incident. Zooming out and out until the milky way is just a speck in a sea of specks. Then, I watch that little red line growing and growing. Expanding and flying through space like water, trickling across dirt.

I try to picture how big I am in comparison.
Which, when you're talking in terms concerning outer space and viewing thousands of galaxies at one time, is less than microscopic. In fact, if I were doing a scientific experiment in which the results of the experiment were the size of the universe, and the margin of error were the size of human being in the universe, the error would be tossed out as insignificant.

After taking some time to meditate on my relative size, I whiz back down to earth, stand right at the base of that gigantic volcano laser beam....and I look up.

I picture that red light going up and up and up, but never reaching the ceiling. That's kinda how I picture forever. And gone is just as big.

Decapitated no more

For years, people in cultures all around the world have marveled at the stoic statue heads standing everywhere on Easter Island.
All of them are about the same size, and all of them have unbelievably boring facial expressions.
How did they get there? Who put them there? How were they transported to their locations all over the island?

Although few answers have been found concerning these famous statue heads, turns out they have once again taken us by surprise. A recent excavation of one of these heads revealed that the Easter Island statue heads, are in fact, not heads at all, but entire bodies.
The Easter Island statue heads are only heads because they are buried in soil up to their necks.

After the first statue was unearthed, more of the heads were examined only to find more statues with complete bodies.

Here is the link to the most-in depth description of this new discovery.

http://m.now.msn.com/now/0516-easter-island-statues

Unfortunately, this discovery only brings to light more questions. Why were all the statues buried? Was it intentional? Or was it the result of natural erosion or some other natural event?

Whatever the reason, the Easter Island statues remain one of the most intriguing mysteries on our planet.

Chase Noah

There are times when I stare my own mistakes in the eye. Sometimes these experiences make me weak, and sometimes they make me stronger.
This weekend has been an experience with the latter effect.

He was a friend and coworker to me. I remember the first time I met him. He came into the room with the most carefree smile. I chuckled to myself because he couldn't sit still. He sat down for a second, then jumped up to get something, then sat down again and repeated the process all over again.
I still laugh when I think of him spraying air freshener down the hall. "One, two, three, four, *spray*. One, two, three, four, *spray*" he said out loud as he walked. He was convinced that a spray every four steps was the perfect balance for the ultimate freshness.
Every time I worked he insisted on taking out the trash for me. "Hey I'm just gonna take this out real quick," he would say briskly, "It's kinda heavy." He always lugged it out for me no matter how many times I told him that I could handle it.
He was great at breaking things, but it was impossible to be mad at him for long. He loved to eat, and had an unquenchable appetite. He was young, athletic, and fun to have around.

We were surprised when we found out on Saturday that he hung himself.
All of my coworkers at the animal clinic where I work, and myself, have been in a state of shock for the last few days. Clients who come in for appointments have been met with a halfhearted reception.
Talk in the break-room is gloomy and filled with regrets. Most of us hope that he just drank too much, it clashed with his medication, and he went crazy and didn't know what he was doing. It's easier to think of it in those terms.

Either way, our friend Chase is gone.

Now, I've made mistakes in my life, I admit that, but fortunately I've never made any mistakes that had permanent results like the one that Chase made this weekend. In the end, all we can ever really hope for, is that our mistakes will mold us into a person with whom we can be content; a person who has been burned and bent and strengthened by the mistakes they've made.

Seeing the results of Chase's decision, and feeling the grief of his loss, has given me a fresh insight into my own growth. I can say that I am content with my change, and that realization is truly a peaceful feeling.
I only wish that Chase could have given himself the benefit of changing, and feeling the same.

Rest in peace, Chase, we miss you.

Photo Source Emitted for Privacy

NFL says "see a shrink!"

In a surprising new policy change, the NFL has set in place a new rule saying that people who are thrown out of the football stadium for disorderly conduct have to take a 4 hour survey in order to get into any NFL game for the rest of the season.
If the individual chooses to come to a game before taking the survey, he or she could be arrested for trespassing.

The survey costs $75, and at the conclusion, the person taking the survey/test has to complete an exit exam which has to be passed with a score of 70% or higher.

Photos and information on the individuals who refuse to take the survey are sent to the stadiums in question, and if they try to attend a game, they face arrest and possibly jail time.

Evidentially the theory is that if unruly behavior is treated with harsh intolerance, people will think twice before throwing that beer bottle at the referee.

I have mixed opinions about this new rule, but at the very least, it's entertaining.

Link: Photo Source

This, our world in shades of grey...

Through time, I have become increasingly aware of the fact that we live in a world that is almost free of absolutes. The absolute black and white, and right and wrong regions of our existence are exceedingly small indeed. Every rule has an exception, and every exception possesses an exception of its own. I'm not saying that there are no absolute wrongs or rights in life, I'm just stating that when life is broken down objectively, the lines begin to blur.

A murderer is wrong, no doubt about it...right?
But when it comes down to each situation, no one can actually testify to what was happening at that very moment, in that exact situation...except for the man or woman breathing that moment's air. Even two people who are experiencing the same thing can not testify to the other person's experience in every single aspect. We are individuals, plain and simple.

At the very most, all we can really say about murder is that it is illegal. That statement is true, but saying that murder is wrong is too ambiguous. That sentence implies an absolute, and murder can not be considered wrong in every single instance.
This is an obvious example, but would murdering Adolf Hitler have been wrong? It's still murder, taking another human's life, but he was a tyrant who preformed mass genocide.

This problem, of how hazy the lines between right and wrong really are, is why it is illogical to judge other people's actions, opinions, and life choices. Let's assume, just for a moment, that judging someone isn't rude and petty. The truth is that judging someone is impossible. No human being can correctly testify to any other human being's experience of any situation.

That is the essence of passing a judgement on someone else, after all; saying that you're viewpoint, opinion, point of view, life choice, or action is right, and theirs is wrong.

However, despite all of this, the judicial system in America is extremely important. It is very necessary to be able to pass judgment on someone who has acted outside of the law. Without this power, criminals would have no accountability for their actions. But the complexity of the judicial system itself testifies to how difficult it really is to put the label "right" or "wrong" on someone's actions.

I often find it difficult to stand silently by when I hear casual statements that generalize people into absolute categories without even contemplating how absurd it is to do so.
For example, the other day I heard this statement,
"People who use profanity have limited vocabularies."
This sentence implies that every single person who has ever used profanity has a limited vocabulary. This is obviously impossible to say. In order to correctly make this statement, one would have to give a vocabulary test to every single person who has ever uttered a cuss word.
This absurdity is obvious to me, but maybe I'm the only one who immediately hears these things in every conversation I have.

Now, that's not saying that I never pass judgements on others. Another truth in life is the ever present hypocrisy we encounter every day. Often, though, my judgements are even more petty than those made by others. It is my nature to acknowledge the logic in other people's actions, opinions, life choices, and viewpoints, so often my judgements are made out of a personal dislike for the individual.
Because of this, I will be bashing the person I dislike, but even though I desperately want to hate them, I have to respect their viewpoints. It's kind of like I have to separate the person from their situation; bash the person, but remain objective about the situation. Over-objectivity makes hating people complicated.

In the end, I very much like how unclear the world really is.

It gives us complexity, and it gives each person the benefit of a unique situation. It is the gift of individuality; the privilege of being separate from the general population and handed a blank slate on which to draw a life that is different from every other life that has ever been lived.
That is truly a priceless gift indeed. Preserve that gift with everything you have, and never steal it from anyone else.


On that note, I wrote a poem about this very thing; how absolutes are small, hazy, and ever changing.

Shades of grey

No blacks or whites, no wrongs or rights,
I stand under a sunset of grey.
I smile and chastise the thought of embracing any other sky.

With life wrapped in spheres of absolutes,
Philosophy would die.
Men with no fire of will, no pointed opinions,
No illogical prejudices;
The echoing screech of robots asexually filling the planet with
Robotic clones and more passionless life.

Tear it down off the wall,
This thought,
Crumple it,
Toss it away.

Dance with me joyfully,
Saluting the shades of grey that fill our skies with heartbeats.
Embrace the hazy edges of our confusing world!

Rejoice in the ambiguous nature of personality,
The missing clarity in love and death.

I raise my eyes to the birds,
The planes gulped up by the clouds,
Stunning!

What perfect imperfection, this, our world in shades of grey.

The Jaffa Invasion

I saw him right away.
I was standing in a small room with windows in the wall and door. Through the door I could see a hallway that went for a ways to the left and then turned right. Directly across from the room where I was standing, there was another door with a window in it. This one looked into a much bigger room where a surgery was happening.
Probably just a spay or something, I've seen so many surgeries that it doesn't really matter.
He was wearing a brown sleeveless shirt and ragged work pants. Heavy work boots covered his feet and seemed to weigh them down.
He was a Goa'uld.

I shrank back from the door, trying to make myself small. The next little bit was a blur, but soon I found myself being chased down the hall, Goa'uld on my heels. I turned around because I couldn't outrun him and I knew my only hope was to fight him.
He threw me to the floor, and I thought to myself, "I need a gun!"
Like magic, a pistol appeared in my hands and I began shooting him. Soon I was able to wrestle free from him and run away.

After what seemed like hours, I was at the church where I went as a kid. The Goa'uld were everywhere! There was a mothership hovering over the gym, and myself and a few others were fighting the Jaffa. I decided my best bet was to hide and then come out when they had left. I was running behind the gym, heading for the corner of the building. I looked behind me and I saw a toxic green colored rain coming towered me. I knew the mothership above me was dropping acid in an attempt to stop me. I also knew that if I could just get to the the corner of the building I would be okay. The door to go inside was around the corner, and the Jaffa hadn't invade the gym yet. I tried to run faster, but it seemed like I was slowing down. There was just a few more feet to go, but by this point I was running so slowly I was actually using the wall to PULL myself along!
The green rain was creeping up behind me, I glanced back and saw the grass dying where the rain was hitting it only a few feet behind me. I pulled with all my might, moving my muscles as fast as I could, inching along at a snails pace.
I stretched out my arm as far as I could and grasped the edge of the building. I pulled myself past the corner just a moment after the rain hit me.
In the safety past the corner of the building, I rubbed the rain off of my skin the best that I could. It burned and my skin blistered under its harsh touch

I didn't have time to nurse my wounds though, I needed to get inside and find somewhere to hide.

Once inside the gym, I crept my way to the kitchen. I contemplated hiding in one of the ovens, but I decided that if I hid there, there was a chance one of the Jaffa would lock me inside and cook me.
While I was searching for somewhere to hide, I saw my mom and brother run out one of the side doors. I followed them, and saw, way down on the church's parking lot, a van with all of it's doors open.
The thought occurred to me that I could just...leave.

I ran out to the van with mom and my brother, Nathan. We all got in, and started out on the road towards home. I thought we were all clear, but then I looked behind us, and saw the mothership turn onto the road behind us. It was gaining fast and I knew we couldn't outrun it.

At this point, I decide that the leaving-in-the-van-thing was a bad idea, and so I undid it.

I appeared back in the gym, as if it had never happened. Now there was a group of ten or so people gathered there. They were all people that I went to school with. I joined them, and we stealthily made our way down through the church until we reached the fireside room.

Evidentially this group of people had found a secret hiding place and were going to wait out the Goa'uld invasion Ann Frank style.
One by one, we climbed up a ladder into a floored space above the ceiling. Here, I watched the Jaffa troops assemble and raid the church and surrounding homes.

Then, I woke up...

I've been watching a TON of Stargate. I've seen the Knox revive their dead, Apophis enslave the Jaffa, and SG-1 saving the world time after time.
I've been watching Stargate so much, in fact, that I've begun to dream about it.
Now my level of obsession would be categorized as moderate. I am definitely capable of having conversations that don't involve Stargate. I don't shirk schoolwork to watch the next episode, but I am pretty consumed.

The woman portrayed in the picture at the bottom of this post is at the other end of the spectrum. She has spent several thousand dollars buying props from the show, including the full-sized Stargate she's standing by.
The next picture is a guy who got stargate address symbols tattooed on his arm.

So although I may be pretty obsessed with Stargate, these people make my obsession seem obsolete.

(note to others with obsessions:
If you have a geeky obsession like mine, it's always nice to find the lunatics who are in fan clubs and such. Then, when someone comments on how weirdly obsessed you are, you can pull out your picture of the crazy Stargate chick and point out how obviously normal you are)

In reality, everyone has something they really love. My brother is obsessed with Geocaching. (if you don't know what that is, just Google it) He's found over 6,000 of them.
My obsession is Stargate.

My theory is that without things to be passionate about, people would be no different than computers. It's built into our bones, flowing through our blood; humans are creatures of passion, and what a truly wonderful thing it is indeed!

Link: Photo source

Link: Photo Source