I am sleep deprived. Those of you who are familiar with me will not be surprised by this statement. No, it is not because I go to bed at the unearthly hour of three in the morning, as many of my colegic friends are wont to do, nor is it because I awake at an hour as to totally diminish the affect of any early sleeping. Actually, that brings up a good point. Is it possible to get up so early that it doesn't matter anymore how early you went to bed, you still feel tired? I think that would be an groundbreaking study. Eat your hearts out, scientists worldwide.
No, friends, I am deprived because for two nights I went to bed after my bedtime of ten thirty. That's right, I have no stamina whatsoever, and after two nights of retiring to my bad at the unholy hour of eleven thirty (you may feel free to snicker at me) I am stumbling about, eyes glazed and half shut, pale, with drool coming out of my face, and my arms stiff in zombie like mode. It's kind of fun to walk around that way. You should try it sometime.
I mention this for one real reason. I want an excuse to post one of my stellar poems. Okay, it's not my favorite, but I was going through papers that my mom has saved over the years, and I found this pre mission piece. Sometime in the future when I'm a famous writer, there will be specific periods to my writing: Pre-mission, post mission, post matrimonial, etc. It'll be great, and little kids will have to remember dates and everything. Poor kids. If I have anything to say about a class taught about me, I'd make sure that there were very few dates involved. Of course, if you read "Major Bubbles needs a date," you'll probably realise that it's not far from what my real life was like, anyway. (Please DO NOT see that as a plea for a date, because it's just a joke!). Anyway, here we have a classic piece of pre-mission Major Bubbles working in a yellow paper medium, using a medium ballpoint pen. I unveil with pleasure the work "Tired"
Tired
When Bodies are tired
how fares the soul?
Does it fly to heights unmeasured,
or sink to it's lows unknown?
For myself, I know that
at night I find it hard.
My soul is heavy,
weighed with doubt, with worry.
You say that I'm a fool
taking my rest so early.
Leaving my turmoiled conscious
and fleeing back to serenity.
"in the morning," you say,
"you will surely regret
the early night and lost hours.
After all, you still must do much."
Even though I could argue,
show the pros and cons,
I leave the argument
simply at: "How are you?"
In the morning I have strength,
hope dawns over the ridge of despair,
courage at what will be done
filling me. I am light.
"How am I?" you say
repeating my question
as you prepare to rush
on to a world of industry.
The seventh hour, the last hour
finds me resting, healing.
Into my most basic feelings and desires
going further up, and further in.
You stop your hurried pace
and look into my eyes
directly, a pleading look, you concentrate,
open your mouth, and out comes "I'm tired."
Okay, so maybe it was a let down after all of the hype I gave at the first. I mean, I know that it didn't rhyme, that it didn't have a very deep meaning. But, oh well, I wrote it, you've read it, and life is pretty darn good.
Actually, if you don't like this, most artists aren't really popular until after they're dead, so maybe you should wait to pass judgement until a later day! Look for better and different poetry in the future.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Geek Attack II
Dear blog friends, I just wanted to add to my other blog, and I wanted to make sure that this part would be read, because I think that it's a wonderful point. It was made by Pelirojo, a friend of mine, who most of you probably know, but I thought it was well put, so I'm posting it here. In other words, this brilliance is not mine.
"I agree with you about people becoming more and more connected to there cell phones than to the people behind them.
To many people that have relationships with people via. texts or by email. And then when they try to talk to these people in person they all of a sudden don't have any thing that they can really talk about.
Also it gives boys lame easy ways to get out of simple things like asking girls out on dates. It is so easy to write a email saying what you want it to say or a text that you can sort of edit before it gets to the person that it is intended for. (This part is my mere opinion) This lazy method sort of makes it harder in the long run, when you have hard things to talk about in a real relationship you can not always have well polished and edited conversations with people, that is part of what makes communication so hard.
Another problem is that some time people treat their cell phones better than they do other people. They will drive all the way back home to get there cell phones if they forget it. They will take it out and look at it all the time, or they will hold it all day long. They play games on it and can hardly wait for the moment when some one calls them or they get a message. People feel so incomplete if their cell phone dies. It is practically harder for people to deal with that than the death of a distant relative. It is such a funny thing that we care so much about something so dumb.
There are many many other this that we could attribute to, in our society, this technological revolution. Like the way that we have a higher rate of ADD children because we let them play so many electronic games that go so fast. So when children get in the real world and it goes by in a normal time it is so slow to them and they have problems concentrating. There are also many other problems that can be correlated to the instant gratification lives that we live thanks to the electronic devices that we have. This day and age of instant gratification many relationships are failing because so many things are so easy and fast that when people get into marriage and realize that it is neither easy or fast it becomes to hard and it is just so easy to get a divorce. I mean I know that I am sort of over doing this and making a pretty big mountain out of a molehill, but I think that is sort of the point.
The other horrifying thing that I see coming out of the electrical revolution is the overwhelming increasing in pornography and the affects that we see from that. Which I don't think I need to go into and that I really don't want to go into.
Pelirojo went on to say a few other things, but I think that that will suffice. I think that it's a very smart point. So boys, no lameness (girls, either), and lets get to being connected in real life. I love that! Go smile at someone! No more sending little :). No more! It's going to be a real, in the flesh smile! Okay, that's way too many sentences with exclamations. Have a good day, everyone.
"I agree with you about people becoming more and more connected to there cell phones than to the people behind them.
To many people that have relationships with people via. texts or by email. And then when they try to talk to these people in person they all of a sudden don't have any thing that they can really talk about.
Also it gives boys lame easy ways to get out of simple things like asking girls out on dates. It is so easy to write a email saying what you want it to say or a text that you can sort of edit before it gets to the person that it is intended for. (This part is my mere opinion) This lazy method sort of makes it harder in the long run, when you have hard things to talk about in a real relationship you can not always have well polished and edited conversations with people, that is part of what makes communication so hard.
Another problem is that some time people treat their cell phones better than they do other people. They will drive all the way back home to get there cell phones if they forget it. They will take it out and look at it all the time, or they will hold it all day long. They play games on it and can hardly wait for the moment when some one calls them or they get a message. People feel so incomplete if their cell phone dies. It is practically harder for people to deal with that than the death of a distant relative. It is such a funny thing that we care so much about something so dumb.
There are many many other this that we could attribute to, in our society, this technological revolution. Like the way that we have a higher rate of ADD children because we let them play so many electronic games that go so fast. So when children get in the real world and it goes by in a normal time it is so slow to them and they have problems concentrating. There are also many other problems that can be correlated to the instant gratification lives that we live thanks to the electronic devices that we have. This day and age of instant gratification many relationships are failing because so many things are so easy and fast that when people get into marriage and realize that it is neither easy or fast it becomes to hard and it is just so easy to get a divorce. I mean I know that I am sort of over doing this and making a pretty big mountain out of a molehill, but I think that is sort of the point.
The other horrifying thing that I see coming out of the electrical revolution is the overwhelming increasing in pornography and the affects that we see from that. Which I don't think I need to go into and that I really don't want to go into.
Pelirojo went on to say a few other things, but I think that that will suffice. I think that it's a very smart point. So boys, no lameness (girls, either), and lets get to being connected in real life. I love that! Go smile at someone! No more sending little :). No more! It's going to be a real, in the flesh smile! Okay, that's way too many sentences with exclamations. Have a good day, everyone.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Major Bubbles Needs a Date
Do you think we have a psychological need to go on dates? Maybe there's an unknown gland that suddenly flares to life at teenage years, that constantly sends an impulse up to the brain saying "must go on date" over and over again. I swear, if I could figure out which gland that was, I might just have it removed.
I speak lightly, of course. I love going on dates! I just had to mention it, because I seem to have built up a dependency on them. It's strange, really. Before my mission I could go a very long time without a date, but every once and awhile some hormone or other, or maybe glandular problem would flare up and I would feel biological pressure to go on a date. Maybe, as they say that girls hit the biological clock that calls them to children, I have a biological clock that calls me to dates. Problem is, I have no money, nor ideas of what type of date I would like to go on.
It's uncomfortable, really, having this calling going on, this summons to flirtation, without seeing the most viable form of fulfilling it. I mean, I bet there's lots of girls that I could go out on a date with (or at least I flatter myself to say so) but, questions like "where do I start?, who do I ask, what will I do" and the biggest "how in the world will I pay for it?" plague my mind and fill me full of doubt and uncertainty. It's boggling my mind.
I guess I could spend all of the money I have left and go on a date. A friend of mine, who I will henceforth refer to as Musical G, or maybe just G, invited me to find a date and go surfing. I will admit that I have adventured to go surfing before, but it wasn't of the least embarrassing circumstances I've ever been in. While it is true that I enjoyed myself immensely, I can't help but think that a date situation that is set up to make you look like a complete fool may not be the best idea. I guess that that way it would at least be light hearted. And heaven knows that I want to avoid anything heavy at the moment. Even weights. Ugh, I shudder at the thought.
I could go the way of the average college student. Picnic in the park, frisbee afterwards (though, on a date I am morally opposed to frisbee), a drive through the canyon, all of your basic non-expensive type stuff. As lame as they sound, these options are becoming more and more attractive, if only because they represent a very small economic commitment. Why, oh why, does dating have to be such an ordeal?
I'll end by saying, if you know someone who also needs to go on a date, and is of the female persuasion (and no, I'm not talking about men who are feminine, nor men who like girls. I'm saying a girl. No referencing men, I don't like that), please refer them to me. I can be reached by making a comment on this blog, or by the many other ways of reaching me. So, yeah, this is basically just my technological version of hanging a sign on a billboard, or writing a note in a bathroom that says:
"Call 1 801 Get Date for a good time. Major Bubbles needs a date"
As a post script, and because of the overwhelming support I have recieved from all my friends who read this post, (that's right, all five of you, I'm talking to you) I wish to point out that this blog was created purely for it's humerous affect, and not at all am I desperate for a date. Not that I wouldn't be okay if one of you lovely ladies were to ask. . .
I speak lightly, of course. I love going on dates! I just had to mention it, because I seem to have built up a dependency on them. It's strange, really. Before my mission I could go a very long time without a date, but every once and awhile some hormone or other, or maybe glandular problem would flare up and I would feel biological pressure to go on a date. Maybe, as they say that girls hit the biological clock that calls them to children, I have a biological clock that calls me to dates. Problem is, I have no money, nor ideas of what type of date I would like to go on.
It's uncomfortable, really, having this calling going on, this summons to flirtation, without seeing the most viable form of fulfilling it. I mean, I bet there's lots of girls that I could go out on a date with (or at least I flatter myself to say so) but, questions like "where do I start?, who do I ask, what will I do" and the biggest "how in the world will I pay for it?" plague my mind and fill me full of doubt and uncertainty. It's boggling my mind.
I guess I could spend all of the money I have left and go on a date. A friend of mine, who I will henceforth refer to as Musical G, or maybe just G, invited me to find a date and go surfing. I will admit that I have adventured to go surfing before, but it wasn't of the least embarrassing circumstances I've ever been in. While it is true that I enjoyed myself immensely, I can't help but think that a date situation that is set up to make you look like a complete fool may not be the best idea. I guess that that way it would at least be light hearted. And heaven knows that I want to avoid anything heavy at the moment. Even weights. Ugh, I shudder at the thought.
I could go the way of the average college student. Picnic in the park, frisbee afterwards (though, on a date I am morally opposed to frisbee), a drive through the canyon, all of your basic non-expensive type stuff. As lame as they sound, these options are becoming more and more attractive, if only because they represent a very small economic commitment. Why, oh why, does dating have to be such an ordeal?
I'll end by saying, if you know someone who also needs to go on a date, and is of the female persuasion (and no, I'm not talking about men who are feminine, nor men who like girls. I'm saying a girl. No referencing men, I don't like that), please refer them to me. I can be reached by making a comment on this blog, or by the many other ways of reaching me. So, yeah, this is basically just my technological version of hanging a sign on a billboard, or writing a note in a bathroom that says:
"Call 1 801 Get Date for a good time. Major Bubbles needs a date"
As a post script, and because of the overwhelming support I have recieved from all my friends who read this post, (that's right, all five of you, I'm talking to you) I wish to point out that this blog was created purely for it's humerous affect, and not at all am I desperate for a date. Not that I wouldn't be okay if one of you lovely ladies were to ask. . .
Monday, September 24, 2007
Cold!
I flunked a test today. I just had to start out with that today, because it's the only bad thing that's happened up till this moment in time, one thirty on a blistery cold afternoon. That's right, I went forth and fetched that bad grade. I even did it assertively, in half the time that we were given to complete the test. That's right, I went from no grade to bad grade in a whopping 5o minutes. I'm so excited.
But that's not the topic of my blog today! I thought about many topics that I could share with you today. The topic of this ever increasing in popularity is the weather! I couldn't find a more interesting subject to discuss, so I'll have to talk about this one. Today, I woke, up, rolled out of bed and was, brief pause for dramatic affect, cold! It was amazing! It's been a good two years since I rolled out of bed (that might be because in my mission we slept in hammocks for two years) and was cold. Okay, that's a slight exageration. I think I was cold on one day of my mission. But, still, the point is that it was quite a shock for my poor adjusting body, and I nearly had a heart attack. Also an exageration, but you get my point. It was wonderful! I think that when one is cold, a lot of normal body functions suddenly start to work at peak performance. I mean, not often do you shiver so uncontrolably that you have to consciously flex all of your muscles to keep from falling to the floor. It was an interesting experience. If you ever see someone on the floor, and it's cold, just know that they forgot to flex before the shivers set in. The best way to treat them is to get down on the floor and give them a hug. If you ever see me on the floor, don't worry, I just am trying to get a hug.
But the fun didn't stop there. I got into my hot red little car that some have indeed referred to as a hot red chick car, but seeing as I am neither hot, red, nor a chick, the car will have to be the hot reddy, and I'll go on being Major Bubbles. I got into him (his name is uum, if you'd like to know) and drove to school. It was raining, but I think a few degrees colder, and it might just have started raining down ice. I was cold. That wasn't the best part, though. All of a sudden I realised that I could see my breath! I think that the only possible attraction to smoking (not that there is one) could only be the ability to see some breath like substance at any time in the year. Though, this definately does not give us an excuse to go exude toxin just so we feel cool about seeing our breath. After that complete digression, let me just say that I saw my breath, and was excited. There's something about spraying forth a cloud of visible heated moisture that just makes one giddy inside. I was, indeed, giddy. I loved it.
I have other reasons why I liked the cold today. As the rain clouds cleared and the sun shone down, there was white on the mountains. I could just hear the interjection my Dad would have surely made if he'd been present. "There's snow in them there hills!" Not a good reflection on his grammer capabilities, but a wonderful memory from many years of snow covered mountains. I love the snow. It has been two years since I saw it, so you may imagine my excitement. Go ahead, I give you permision.
And last, but most definately not least, I would like to say, that the cold has a wonderful affect on fashion. I have never seen quite so many dazzling women as I do when it's cold out. I say that because there's something about completely dressed that just makes me get all weak kneed and ready to fall in love at a heartbeat. I love totally dressed women! I make that statement without any wish to insult the mirades of people who like to wear less clothing, I just state it as my opinion that girls (and guys too, for that matter, though I doubt my opinion matters to them) look so much better in plenty of clothing. As clothing becomes a matter of survival as the temperature drops, the fashions begin to change, and in my opinion for the better. At the risk of being risque, I would like to say that a girl in a sweater or sweatshirt can be about the sexiest thing in the planet. Am I allowed to say that on the internet?
Point aside, I love the cold. I hope that all of you go out and enjoy it before it gets too cold, because by then Major Bubbles will probably be found inside sipping hot chocolate and listening to Nat King Cole, or something else. Maybe even Michael Buble. So get out there, enjoy the cold!
But that's not the topic of my blog today! I thought about many topics that I could share with you today. The topic of this ever increasing in popularity is the weather! I couldn't find a more interesting subject to discuss, so I'll have to talk about this one. Today, I woke, up, rolled out of bed and was, brief pause for dramatic affect, cold! It was amazing! It's been a good two years since I rolled out of bed (that might be because in my mission we slept in hammocks for two years) and was cold. Okay, that's a slight exageration. I think I was cold on one day of my mission. But, still, the point is that it was quite a shock for my poor adjusting body, and I nearly had a heart attack. Also an exageration, but you get my point. It was wonderful! I think that when one is cold, a lot of normal body functions suddenly start to work at peak performance. I mean, not often do you shiver so uncontrolably that you have to consciously flex all of your muscles to keep from falling to the floor. It was an interesting experience. If you ever see someone on the floor, and it's cold, just know that they forgot to flex before the shivers set in. The best way to treat them is to get down on the floor and give them a hug. If you ever see me on the floor, don't worry, I just am trying to get a hug.
But the fun didn't stop there. I got into my hot red little car that some have indeed referred to as a hot red chick car, but seeing as I am neither hot, red, nor a chick, the car will have to be the hot reddy, and I'll go on being Major Bubbles. I got into him (his name is uum, if you'd like to know) and drove to school. It was raining, but I think a few degrees colder, and it might just have started raining down ice. I was cold. That wasn't the best part, though. All of a sudden I realised that I could see my breath! I think that the only possible attraction to smoking (not that there is one) could only be the ability to see some breath like substance at any time in the year. Though, this definately does not give us an excuse to go exude toxin just so we feel cool about seeing our breath. After that complete digression, let me just say that I saw my breath, and was excited. There's something about spraying forth a cloud of visible heated moisture that just makes one giddy inside. I was, indeed, giddy. I loved it.
I have other reasons why I liked the cold today. As the rain clouds cleared and the sun shone down, there was white on the mountains. I could just hear the interjection my Dad would have surely made if he'd been present. "There's snow in them there hills!" Not a good reflection on his grammer capabilities, but a wonderful memory from many years of snow covered mountains. I love the snow. It has been two years since I saw it, so you may imagine my excitement. Go ahead, I give you permision.
And last, but most definately not least, I would like to say, that the cold has a wonderful affect on fashion. I have never seen quite so many dazzling women as I do when it's cold out. I say that because there's something about completely dressed that just makes me get all weak kneed and ready to fall in love at a heartbeat. I love totally dressed women! I make that statement without any wish to insult the mirades of people who like to wear less clothing, I just state it as my opinion that girls (and guys too, for that matter, though I doubt my opinion matters to them) look so much better in plenty of clothing. As clothing becomes a matter of survival as the temperature drops, the fashions begin to change, and in my opinion for the better. At the risk of being risque, I would like to say that a girl in a sweater or sweatshirt can be about the sexiest thing in the planet. Am I allowed to say that on the internet?
Point aside, I love the cold. I hope that all of you go out and enjoy it before it gets too cold, because by then Major Bubbles will probably be found inside sipping hot chocolate and listening to Nat King Cole, or something else. Maybe even Michael Buble. So get out there, enjoy the cold!
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Geek Attack
The geeks are out to get us. I say this with all seriousness, but no generalization whatsoever. If you are a geek and are not out to get us, then I suggest you join forces with us in a case of self preservation. Because if you don't, the tide will come rushing over us, and we will be unable to stop it's flow.
I was walking from class to class the other day, something that for me is not an all together uncommon occurrence, when I saw what should have been an unusual site, but what is in reality an all too common site. I saw two people (a guy and a girl to make matters worse) walking together, and one was on his cell phone, while the other (the girl) was walking with her head slightly tilted down, a ponderous look on her face. I thought nothing of it at the moment, but as I walked I suddenly realised that I had just witnessed the affect of a very subtle and clever act of mass destruction. The destruction of human connection. That's right, the geeks are out to destroy the connection between man and man.
It might seem odd that I say this. I mean, supposedly cell phones, pagers, i phones, and the like are all in place to make sure that we are all connected. If you take this into consideration with a comment made on the blog "The sin of Smiling" it suddenly becomes obvious that the sudden influx of technology and connecting gadgets are making us less and less connected with men, and more and more connected with sound bites. Or is it bytes? Either way, I think it's something interesting to note that as we get more connected, we have fewer people skills.
I love geeks, though. Not that I'm all for this disconnect the human race by connecting them bid for world destruction, but I think they're wonderful people. I'm sure that some people would define me as a geek, really. And I'm all right with that.
The point, I guess, that I'd like to make, is that the connection doesn't always help. My friends think that I'm crazy, because I don't have a cell phone. Actually, that's only one of various reasons of why they think I'm crazy, but really it's just my effort to save this crazy world from becoming unconnected. I love you people and I don't mind not being on my cell phone, just so I can say hi on my way to class. But, then again, I'd probably be grinning sheepishly at you whether I was on the phone or not, so take it for what it's worth.
I was walking from class to class the other day, something that for me is not an all together uncommon occurrence, when I saw what should have been an unusual site, but what is in reality an all too common site. I saw two people (a guy and a girl to make matters worse) walking together, and one was on his cell phone, while the other (the girl) was walking with her head slightly tilted down, a ponderous look on her face. I thought nothing of it at the moment, but as I walked I suddenly realised that I had just witnessed the affect of a very subtle and clever act of mass destruction. The destruction of human connection. That's right, the geeks are out to destroy the connection between man and man.
It might seem odd that I say this. I mean, supposedly cell phones, pagers, i phones, and the like are all in place to make sure that we are all connected. If you take this into consideration with a comment made on the blog "The sin of Smiling" it suddenly becomes obvious that the sudden influx of technology and connecting gadgets are making us less and less connected with men, and more and more connected with sound bites. Or is it bytes? Either way, I think it's something interesting to note that as we get more connected, we have fewer people skills.
I love geeks, though. Not that I'm all for this disconnect the human race by connecting them bid for world destruction, but I think they're wonderful people. I'm sure that some people would define me as a geek, really. And I'm all right with that.
The point, I guess, that I'd like to make, is that the connection doesn't always help. My friends think that I'm crazy, because I don't have a cell phone. Actually, that's only one of various reasons of why they think I'm crazy, but really it's just my effort to save this crazy world from becoming unconnected. I love you people and I don't mind not being on my cell phone, just so I can say hi on my way to class. But, then again, I'd probably be grinning sheepishly at you whether I was on the phone or not, so take it for what it's worth.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Disney Love
As I walked between classes in my usual yellow manner, grinning sheepishly at any and all that passed me by, I was struck by an image that is a growing occurrence at my school. Two people holding hands. This image presented a few interesting questions. First and foremost was “should they be doing that in public?” which was quickly followed by the thought “well as long as they don’t get too mushy with their interdigitation, it ought to be all right.” After all, the guy was holding a slurpee. I can only imagine that this did not produce the most pleasant hand holding experience for the poor girl.
Among the thoughts that crossed my mind as I walked to my class was this one. “Why is it that I am not having that experience?” “What is it about my character that does not allow me to participate in the same sort of thing?” I wish to stress that I am, for the moment not seeking partnership in any way, shape, or form, but it gave me something to think about, and after much thought and deep reflection, I came upon the answer. It’s Disney’s fault. That’s right, all of my social related problems, my unfulfilled dreams and odd expectancies can be traced right down to the day that I was sat down and brainwashed by an hour and a half of pure romantic nonsense. I mean, whose bright idea was it to start giving children their romantic cues and roles at the age of five? I think that there has been some traumatic influence of these movies, and I don’t know if I’ll ever recover.
Take for example what we are taught by these movies fasading to be innocent entertainment. First off, they teach us that you will always know, right off the bat, who it is you’re in love with. An example of this is Aladdin. Here’s a girl walking down the street that as far as he knows is just like any other, and the minute he sees her he says “wow,” which in guy talk is loosely translated to “that’s my future wife.” Imagine the impact this had on my unsuspecting childish brain. It has created lots of havoc in my life. Once I saw a girl, any girl, who I thought was remotely pretty, I would have the very natural glandular reaction of having a crush on her. Can you imagine being in love at first sight with twenty girls at the same time? My poor brain was overloaded, and my glandular system wasn’t looking to hot, either. I’m pretty sure that it shut down completely for awhile, which might explain why I never had a girlfriend in High School. Do you see what it did to me? That was only one movie. If you look at Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, The Little Mermaid, all of them teach the same basic thing. You will know the first time you meet someone that she (or he, for our feminine audience) is the one for you. This is craziness! I’ve tried it, and trust me when I say that girls don’t like being told upon first acquaintances that they will be your future spouse, I’m telling the truth. I have a permanent handprint on my face as proof.
Which leads me into my next point. It’s not a given that the girl you fall for will fall for you. I defy any reader to come up with a Disney show that shows that the two parties involved weren’t mutual in their feelings, with the possible exception of Beauty and the Beast. Normally both parties feel that it’s a great idea, and that they should get hitched at the earliest possible moment. Not only is this a bad dating policy, it’s not very realistic. I find that the majority of the time the people that I fall in love with have no idea that I even exist, and I’m left to wander the earth, bitter at having a love unheard and unfelt by others. Oh, woe is me.
And I’m only getting started. Another example of things that are best not learned from Disney would be this. The one you fall in love with will always be someone really nice. Every single stinking movie shows the man always falling in love with a nice girl. The only exception from this rule for woman is Beauty and the Beast, but considering that that movie teaches the fable that all beasts will someday become good if not particularly physically appealing princes. (No, I didn’t come up with that opinion by myself, I’m repeating the opinion of girls I have heard express frustration at the lack of beauty in the changed beast). This doesn’t happen! Okay, maybe one out of two million jerks become good guys, but I feel sorry for all of the poor wonderful princesses out there who get tied up with beasts, in the hope of a mediocre looking good prince.
But, I digress. I was talking about how in every Disney movie, it’s always the nice people who fall in love with each other. I don’t get that, because the only time I ever could say I approached being in love, it turns out the girl was a bit nasty. I learned from those movies that if I ever did fall in love with someone on the first sight, I would be able to trust that girl until death do us part and beyond. Yeah, didn’t work. I mean, I could go on and on about the traumatic experience this was. If you really want to know, talk to any of my female friends who were around for the time period. I’m sure that they’d love to tell you what a jerk this girl was. Isn’t it great how the opposite gender (opposite of mine, of course) can travel the news and get the warning out that your love isn’t a Disney love?
If you take the example of Sleeping Beauty or Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, you get a whole new principle just rife with problems. The people you will fall in love with (if you haven’t already) will walk in on you at exactly the right moment. The moment when you are showing what’s best about you, you’re loving nature, you’re beautiful voice, whatever it may be, when you are portraying it that’s when love will appear. Then proceeds the moment of initial embarrassment at being found out in your goodness, and the love loves you even more for it. I personally find that the opposite is more often true for me. I find that girls I like have this tendency to walk in when I’m doing something damaging to my character, such as picking my nose or drooling in my sleep. (For those females who may be reading this, I do not pick my nose, often, and as far as drooling, I don’t think they’ve come up with a cure for that, so I feel I can admit it without shame) I reclaim Disney for giving me a false sense of security when indulging in these things, sure that someone attractive will never ever find me doing them. Of course they do, which just goes to show you can’t really trust that old wall of the “indecent screen of invisibility” and that unfortunately people really will see if you do something unbecoming.
Though I could go on and on, I think that I’ll wrap this up with a thrashing of one movie in particular. How about The Little Mermaid. Starting off, I learned from this movie that you could make someone fall in love with you using your voice. From this knowledge I formulated a plan that I would use in High School in search of love. I would improve my voice. After years of practice and improvement, I whipped out my voice at any chance I could. It is with dejection that I tell you that it doesn’t work. I have not yet enchanted anyone, and the prospects for the future are not very bright. Imagine my disillusionment. Next, I learned that you could get away with being rude at the table, as long as you were thought to be foreign, deaf, or otherwise handicapped (not that being foreign is a handicap.) I tried that once on my mission. I have to say, the mission president’s wife wasn’t very impressed. Moving along in the movie, I learned that living in the house of your future spouse is okay, which would lead me into a moral discussion that I’d rather not touch, but you can see the affects that that train of thought might bring. I learned that first kisses are always romantic, and even fish will start singing in joyous harmonies when the blessed moment arrives. Even though it hasn’t arrived for me, I’m told that it normally doesn’t work out like that, and that it’s normally a lot more awkward than anything. And, as Tolkien Boy would say, awkwardness abounded.
I could go on and on. But, I won’t because you’re tired of reading, and I think I’ve proved my point. Even with this newfound understanding about the gaps in my social education that I received at the hands of a merciless TV, I have to admit that I will probably make that a part of my future children’s education. That is, if I can overcome these romantic flukes and actually find someone to love me I will. Then again, if one of my future child’s glandular system explodes one day from being overused, I might never forgive myself.
Aware of the very rare chance that some sort of Disney affiliate might read this, I must say that I really love you guys, and that this is no way an assertion of hate, or intent to harm the production of your company. Please don’t sue me. I don’t have any money anyway. Really!
Among the thoughts that crossed my mind as I walked to my class was this one. “Why is it that I am not having that experience?” “What is it about my character that does not allow me to participate in the same sort of thing?” I wish to stress that I am, for the moment not seeking partnership in any way, shape, or form, but it gave me something to think about, and after much thought and deep reflection, I came upon the answer. It’s Disney’s fault. That’s right, all of my social related problems, my unfulfilled dreams and odd expectancies can be traced right down to the day that I was sat down and brainwashed by an hour and a half of pure romantic nonsense. I mean, whose bright idea was it to start giving children their romantic cues and roles at the age of five? I think that there has been some traumatic influence of these movies, and I don’t know if I’ll ever recover.
Take for example what we are taught by these movies fasading to be innocent entertainment. First off, they teach us that you will always know, right off the bat, who it is you’re in love with. An example of this is Aladdin. Here’s a girl walking down the street that as far as he knows is just like any other, and the minute he sees her he says “wow,” which in guy talk is loosely translated to “that’s my future wife.” Imagine the impact this had on my unsuspecting childish brain. It has created lots of havoc in my life. Once I saw a girl, any girl, who I thought was remotely pretty, I would have the very natural glandular reaction of having a crush on her. Can you imagine being in love at first sight with twenty girls at the same time? My poor brain was overloaded, and my glandular system wasn’t looking to hot, either. I’m pretty sure that it shut down completely for awhile, which might explain why I never had a girlfriend in High School. Do you see what it did to me? That was only one movie. If you look at Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, The Little Mermaid, all of them teach the same basic thing. You will know the first time you meet someone that she (or he, for our feminine audience) is the one for you. This is craziness! I’ve tried it, and trust me when I say that girls don’t like being told upon first acquaintances that they will be your future spouse, I’m telling the truth. I have a permanent handprint on my face as proof.
Which leads me into my next point. It’s not a given that the girl you fall for will fall for you. I defy any reader to come up with a Disney show that shows that the two parties involved weren’t mutual in their feelings, with the possible exception of Beauty and the Beast. Normally both parties feel that it’s a great idea, and that they should get hitched at the earliest possible moment. Not only is this a bad dating policy, it’s not very realistic. I find that the majority of the time the people that I fall in love with have no idea that I even exist, and I’m left to wander the earth, bitter at having a love unheard and unfelt by others. Oh, woe is me.
And I’m only getting started. Another example of things that are best not learned from Disney would be this. The one you fall in love with will always be someone really nice. Every single stinking movie shows the man always falling in love with a nice girl. The only exception from this rule for woman is Beauty and the Beast, but considering that that movie teaches the fable that all beasts will someday become good if not particularly physically appealing princes. (No, I didn’t come up with that opinion by myself, I’m repeating the opinion of girls I have heard express frustration at the lack of beauty in the changed beast). This doesn’t happen! Okay, maybe one out of two million jerks become good guys, but I feel sorry for all of the poor wonderful princesses out there who get tied up with beasts, in the hope of a mediocre looking good prince.
But, I digress. I was talking about how in every Disney movie, it’s always the nice people who fall in love with each other. I don’t get that, because the only time I ever could say I approached being in love, it turns out the girl was a bit nasty. I learned from those movies that if I ever did fall in love with someone on the first sight, I would be able to trust that girl until death do us part and beyond. Yeah, didn’t work. I mean, I could go on and on about the traumatic experience this was. If you really want to know, talk to any of my female friends who were around for the time period. I’m sure that they’d love to tell you what a jerk this girl was. Isn’t it great how the opposite gender (opposite of mine, of course) can travel the news and get the warning out that your love isn’t a Disney love?
If you take the example of Sleeping Beauty or Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, you get a whole new principle just rife with problems. The people you will fall in love with (if you haven’t already) will walk in on you at exactly the right moment. The moment when you are showing what’s best about you, you’re loving nature, you’re beautiful voice, whatever it may be, when you are portraying it that’s when love will appear. Then proceeds the moment of initial embarrassment at being found out in your goodness, and the love loves you even more for it. I personally find that the opposite is more often true for me. I find that girls I like have this tendency to walk in when I’m doing something damaging to my character, such as picking my nose or drooling in my sleep. (For those females who may be reading this, I do not pick my nose, often, and as far as drooling, I don’t think they’ve come up with a cure for that, so I feel I can admit it without shame) I reclaim Disney for giving me a false sense of security when indulging in these things, sure that someone attractive will never ever find me doing them. Of course they do, which just goes to show you can’t really trust that old wall of the “indecent screen of invisibility” and that unfortunately people really will see if you do something unbecoming.
Though I could go on and on, I think that I’ll wrap this up with a thrashing of one movie in particular. How about The Little Mermaid. Starting off, I learned from this movie that you could make someone fall in love with you using your voice. From this knowledge I formulated a plan that I would use in High School in search of love. I would improve my voice. After years of practice and improvement, I whipped out my voice at any chance I could. It is with dejection that I tell you that it doesn’t work. I have not yet enchanted anyone, and the prospects for the future are not very bright. Imagine my disillusionment. Next, I learned that you could get away with being rude at the table, as long as you were thought to be foreign, deaf, or otherwise handicapped (not that being foreign is a handicap.) I tried that once on my mission. I have to say, the mission president’s wife wasn’t very impressed. Moving along in the movie, I learned that living in the house of your future spouse is okay, which would lead me into a moral discussion that I’d rather not touch, but you can see the affects that that train of thought might bring. I learned that first kisses are always romantic, and even fish will start singing in joyous harmonies when the blessed moment arrives. Even though it hasn’t arrived for me, I’m told that it normally doesn’t work out like that, and that it’s normally a lot more awkward than anything. And, as Tolkien Boy would say, awkwardness abounded.
I could go on and on. But, I won’t because you’re tired of reading, and I think I’ve proved my point. Even with this newfound understanding about the gaps in my social education that I received at the hands of a merciless TV, I have to admit that I will probably make that a part of my future children’s education. That is, if I can overcome these romantic flukes and actually find someone to love me I will. Then again, if one of my future child’s glandular system explodes one day from being overused, I might never forgive myself.
Aware of the very rare chance that some sort of Disney affiliate might read this, I must say that I really love you guys, and that this is no way an assertion of hate, or intent to harm the production of your company. Please don’t sue me. I don’t have any money anyway. Really!
Sunday, September 9, 2007
A salute to the brave
I am not used to talking about depressing subjects, least of all here, where even my cover of almost complete lack of popularity (among bloggers I should say) will not entirely cover over when I talk about personal type subjects. Such as, for instance, my underwear drawer. No need to be alarmed! I promise I will not talk about such intimate details, but rather confine myself to the task of writing my abstract thoughts, which seem to be depressingly green, or perhaps even purple. I feel that many of us are plagued by something so very hard to control, to master. That being said, I wrote a small soliloquy about the most common disease among young people, and perhaps even among old people. I do wax religious at one moment, but it's they ray of hope that pulls me through my silent reveries, so please bear with it, and I hope that some good might come out of it. After all, there's healing involved when you talk about touchy subjects.
That being said, let us go on with the show!
What is it about our feelings, our most innate and natural instincts, that drives us to seek out others, to chase after companionship? We seem to go willy nilly in persuit of those people who understand us, to seek actively after someone, something, that makes us feel that we are not alone. It has been said “We read to know we are not alone” or even, “We love to know we are not alone,” to which I add “We believe to know we are not alone.” There is something, some discontented monster that drives us all to chase after some sort of connection. Why? Why is that we are not content merely to exist? Why is it that we feel lonely? It cannot be only natural instinct, for animals do not feel the same. They wander from place to place, content merely by the presence of others, whilst we mortals seek after something so much more difficult to encounter. Understanding from others, and connections to them that last. We form acquaintances, friendships, and even get married, all seeming to be with the intent to appease this hungry beast that lives within us all. The beast of loneliness.
And yet, at times I sit all alone, and contemplate. I feel the rush of the wind passing me by, I hear the swaying of the trees and the shaking of the leaves. I behold the beauty of the stars as their transcendent light trickles down upon me, lighting my soul from without, the eternity of light displayed before me. I sit there, feeling the cool night air, the sharpness of fall approaching, and I wonder. There are times when the beast quiets down, when the monster within me is, for a breath in time, silent. It makes me wonder. Does God ever feel lonely? Does He understand that monster?
I’ve found that those moments of quiet reflection, of solitary solace, show me an inner peace not often realised. The type where you say “I am content to be me in me,” without outside approval or appreciation. Perhaps God feels that way, and wants us all to feel that way. Though He did say “It is not good for man to be alone” (nor woman either, for that matter), I can’t help but feel that true power comes when we realise that happiness is not dependant on others, though it may be influenced by them. How this works, I still don’t know, but perhaps you have to be married to understand. Or have kids. Or something. I really could not tell, in the cosmic scheme of things I’m just a child with dreams and nightmares, the light bringing me aspirations worthy of Camelot, of peace and prosperity, of kindness and good will, with the dark bringing me frights and worries, the type that make little children afraid and grown men worried. I’m just an ordinary person, with the usual amount of wisdom and foresight, and the usual abundance of hindsight.
But, whoever I be, and however I am, I can tell one thing. The power behind the word “lonely” is a true force to be reckoned with. There are those who endure lives nightmares, abuse and torments, only to be free of the idea of being lonely. Some are much more content being someones, then being happy. I know of few so brave, nor few so strong, as those who face lives challenges alone. Though, I do admit, I believe we are never alone, those who confront challenges without a mortal along for support have my deepest respect. I salute you, all of you strong enough to keep going, to do what is right, without that kind of backup, without the constant prodding of visible support. You are brave, and I admire you for it. I know that God will look down and say “well done,” and one day He will put an end to that horrible beast called loneliness inside each of us, and then, finally then, we will understand.
That being said, let us go on with the show!
What is it about our feelings, our most innate and natural instincts, that drives us to seek out others, to chase after companionship? We seem to go willy nilly in persuit of those people who understand us, to seek actively after someone, something, that makes us feel that we are not alone. It has been said “We read to know we are not alone” or even, “We love to know we are not alone,” to which I add “We believe to know we are not alone.” There is something, some discontented monster that drives us all to chase after some sort of connection. Why? Why is that we are not content merely to exist? Why is it that we feel lonely? It cannot be only natural instinct, for animals do not feel the same. They wander from place to place, content merely by the presence of others, whilst we mortals seek after something so much more difficult to encounter. Understanding from others, and connections to them that last. We form acquaintances, friendships, and even get married, all seeming to be with the intent to appease this hungry beast that lives within us all. The beast of loneliness.
And yet, at times I sit all alone, and contemplate. I feel the rush of the wind passing me by, I hear the swaying of the trees and the shaking of the leaves. I behold the beauty of the stars as their transcendent light trickles down upon me, lighting my soul from without, the eternity of light displayed before me. I sit there, feeling the cool night air, the sharpness of fall approaching, and I wonder. There are times when the beast quiets down, when the monster within me is, for a breath in time, silent. It makes me wonder. Does God ever feel lonely? Does He understand that monster?
I’ve found that those moments of quiet reflection, of solitary solace, show me an inner peace not often realised. The type where you say “I am content to be me in me,” without outside approval or appreciation. Perhaps God feels that way, and wants us all to feel that way. Though He did say “It is not good for man to be alone” (nor woman either, for that matter), I can’t help but feel that true power comes when we realise that happiness is not dependant on others, though it may be influenced by them. How this works, I still don’t know, but perhaps you have to be married to understand. Or have kids. Or something. I really could not tell, in the cosmic scheme of things I’m just a child with dreams and nightmares, the light bringing me aspirations worthy of Camelot, of peace and prosperity, of kindness and good will, with the dark bringing me frights and worries, the type that make little children afraid and grown men worried. I’m just an ordinary person, with the usual amount of wisdom and foresight, and the usual abundance of hindsight.
But, whoever I be, and however I am, I can tell one thing. The power behind the word “lonely” is a true force to be reckoned with. There are those who endure lives nightmares, abuse and torments, only to be free of the idea of being lonely. Some are much more content being someones, then being happy. I know of few so brave, nor few so strong, as those who face lives challenges alone. Though, I do admit, I believe we are never alone, those who confront challenges without a mortal along for support have my deepest respect. I salute you, all of you strong enough to keep going, to do what is right, without that kind of backup, without the constant prodding of visible support. You are brave, and I admire you for it. I know that God will look down and say “well done,” and one day He will put an end to that horrible beast called loneliness inside each of us, and then, finally then, we will understand.
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