I seem to have an obsession for my new computer. It’s a lot easier to talk to than most people I know, and it has the tendency of responding exactly the way I expect it to. That being said, I want it known that this is only true for my leg warmer, and not for the cold calculating machine found on the desktop of a little place I like to call “Work.” It likes to refer to itself that way, so I don’t mind using the word to describe it. That machine located in the basement of a three story building is slowly sucking my soul away. I am dreadfully serious about this. My computer at work is sucking my soul away. I’m not sure I can last much longer
Do you think divinity has a sense of humor? I think it does, because if you think about it, how often do ironic things happen to people? For instance, a little while ago I wrote a blog about BHF’s.; those wonderful things that help us through those times when most we feel abandoned. I wrote about those, and now I strangely find myself in a situation where I feel the need to find one, and don’t like the implications of having one. I’m worried that my computer is beginning to be a bhf, because I switch it on with the intention of not having to deal with the hollow sound of my pattering feet in my house. I admit, my feet no longer really patter, and in the carpeted regions of my house the patter is pretty quieted, but the image of the only son living at home being upset by the hollow echo of his own feet is a tragic one.
My point is that I feel a void. Because of missions, rare opportunities of teaching in the far east (as in, Taiwan), new commitments, and similar things, I feel like my close friends are gone. I don’t mean to say that I don’t have friends, because I do, but I’m talking about ones that feel like they can drop by any time that they want to, or that you can call without any reason, when you just want to talk. I have lots of friends that I wish were that way, but at the moment they aren’t. And so it is that I find myself in the situation where I feel a void, but at the same time feel that it wouldn’t be right to try and make a friendship much closer. Why do I feel that way? Because I worry that by so doing I create a bhf friend who I only seek out because I’m hurting. That’s no way to start a friendship.
It’s kind of silly to worry about starting friendships, though. I’m not sure that I believe in dreams being a reflection of anything more than our own subconscious way of dealing things, but this morning I had a dream that I think reflects something of my own psyche. I’ll share this dream, and feel free to psycho analyse it all you want. I have, and I have determined that the majority of my friends are right. I am crazy.
To start off, I should tell you that none of my dreams have real visual clarity, excepting the ones that are really important, or really unimportant. The ambiguous ones are never clear. Is that redundant? For me, dreams are more the emotion associated with any one image, and the emotion has the tendency of creating in my mind a scene that reflects the emotion. In other words, I do not dream, I emote. But, because my highly sophisticated brain is able to turn those emotions into images, I will try to explain the story of this illuminating dream. It was a short one.
I found myself on a horse, a brown one that emoted strength, steadiness, and exhilaration. Along for the ride (on a different horse) was an important friend of mine, a very dear friend that I have no idea who he was, just that he was important. He was a close friend, someone that I wished the good opinion of. Thus far is what my emotions told me. I could tell that riding the horse was vitally important to my friend, and that wherever we were headed, he was impatient to arrive. In that freakily fitting way that dreams have of making the ridiculous become reality, I was in an old western type place, wide open rolling hills, no fences, no sign of civilization, and I’m pretty sure that the time was before the automobile was invented. However, of a sudden, I found myself located next to an old ford truck. It looked squared, like a really old truck does. I don’t know why in that scene where a truck should definitely not have been there was a truck, but there it was.
The truck wasn’t nearly as important as what was inside. Inside was a faceless person, a beautiful woman whom I emoted to be my love, the person who I wanted to spend as much time as possible with. I say she was faceless because there was never the impression made of any particular features. I mean, I knew she had a face (nose, eyes, everything), but they were without definition in my head. I knew she was beautiful, knew that she had blond hair, and that she was who I loved.
This is where my psyche comes into play. For me, there was at that moment of opening the car door, and kissing the girl’s hand, a decision to be made, around which the whole dream pivoted. Do I get in and shut the car door, leaving my friend outside, to go along his path, or do I leave my love’s side to pursue a friend so important to me, whose opinion I value? In that moment of angst, I awoke.
It made me think of many times I’ve stopped at the crossroads of a decision and been torn between two opinions, two people that I saw as being exclusive, either one or the other. I’m afraid that that’s a train of thought that I revert to all too often. I thought about it for a long time, and realized that in the dream I was being foolish. The best thing to have done would have been to take the girl, and put her on the horse, and then sat up on it with her. That’s more romantic than an old ford truck anyway, and we could have gone together in pursuit of my friend.
So often I leave an idea out, just because I think it excludes another, when really I should be looking to see how both ideas can make the world (and my life) something better. If I could do that, maybe I could stop having angst. Or maybe I just like to say angst.
And that entire blog was to only to say that I ought to not worry about strengthening friendships. Aren’t you glad you read it? Don’t you want to be my friend now?
Monday, December 31, 2007
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Christmas Blog
Today is a special day. I can’t imagine a more obvious statement to begin with than Christmas is a special day, but it’s still nice to say. What makes it a special day for you? I’d like to take you on a journey through a Christmas eve and Christmas day at the Major Bubbles institution.
First off, the Christmas Eve, for this Major, begins around six o’clock on the 24th, when dinner begins. Dinner each year can be something different, but it’s always accompanied by family and good times. We talk about what’s happened, about movies, about books, about science, we talk about just anything, really, and enjoy each other’s company. Having finished the savory supper (this year it was clam chowder), the family then departs to either the family room or the living room, depending on the size of the crowd.
After dinner, we have a Christmas program. Each year Dad writes an inspirational program full of singing, reading, and all around music and words of goodness. Definitely good news. This year we had a program full of little kids, seeing as there were many families that came to enjoy the good writing of my father. After the program it’s usually pretty late, so the family settles down to enjoy the late evening, and retire to bed early.
Christmas Eve night has always been a special one. I think for me it dates back to when I was a child, and we awaited to see the things that a saintly soul would leave for us during the night (or perhaps two saintly souls). While I was growing up, there were many things that were done to my house, and all of which required that I share a room with my youngest brother. Those were hallowed years, years that I won’t forget, and especially so with Christmas Eve. We would lie in our bunk beds, giggling to each other in anticipation and happiness. We’d talk about what the next day would bring, what we expected. We’d talk about the snow, about the family, about happiness, and just be little boys, excited for Christmas. Though I can no longer claim the little, I do claim the excitement and happiness each Christmas Eve. This year I was tired from the activities of the day, but still found myself very excited for the day to come.
Christmas morning, no matter how the weather may be, always dawns bright and clear. Since I was a boy we’ve always had the same traditions on Christmas morning. We wake up, gather into my parents room, and say a prayer. Dad then suggests that maybe we ought to eat before we have breakfast. After a rousing rebuke from the children, Dad leads the way upstairs to where the gifts have been lovingly laid out. The children’s eyes closed tight, it’s my father, with the youngest son’s hands on his shoulder, who leads the way up, with the youngest holding onto him, then the next, then the next, in a train, all following the other, all with eyes closed tight. Then there is glee as presents are opened, and all enjoy themselves. Mom acts as Mrs. Claus every year, handing each present under the tree to its recipient until there are none left. She always does it just right, so we end up with all the same amount of gifts.
After presents, there is always the ham breakfast, with cranberry juice and seven up. It’s traditional!
Those are only a few things that I associate each year with Christmas. I love the traditions, the happiness, the joy that’s felt each year around this time. I hope you all had a marvelous Christmas, and that the New Year will be wonderful.
And to all, a good night.
First off, the Christmas Eve, for this Major, begins around six o’clock on the 24th, when dinner begins. Dinner each year can be something different, but it’s always accompanied by family and good times. We talk about what’s happened, about movies, about books, about science, we talk about just anything, really, and enjoy each other’s company. Having finished the savory supper (this year it was clam chowder), the family then departs to either the family room or the living room, depending on the size of the crowd.
After dinner, we have a Christmas program. Each year Dad writes an inspirational program full of singing, reading, and all around music and words of goodness. Definitely good news. This year we had a program full of little kids, seeing as there were many families that came to enjoy the good writing of my father. After the program it’s usually pretty late, so the family settles down to enjoy the late evening, and retire to bed early.
Christmas Eve night has always been a special one. I think for me it dates back to when I was a child, and we awaited to see the things that a saintly soul would leave for us during the night (or perhaps two saintly souls). While I was growing up, there were many things that were done to my house, and all of which required that I share a room with my youngest brother. Those were hallowed years, years that I won’t forget, and especially so with Christmas Eve. We would lie in our bunk beds, giggling to each other in anticipation and happiness. We’d talk about what the next day would bring, what we expected. We’d talk about the snow, about the family, about happiness, and just be little boys, excited for Christmas. Though I can no longer claim the little, I do claim the excitement and happiness each Christmas Eve. This year I was tired from the activities of the day, but still found myself very excited for the day to come.
Christmas morning, no matter how the weather may be, always dawns bright and clear. Since I was a boy we’ve always had the same traditions on Christmas morning. We wake up, gather into my parents room, and say a prayer. Dad then suggests that maybe we ought to eat before we have breakfast. After a rousing rebuke from the children, Dad leads the way upstairs to where the gifts have been lovingly laid out. The children’s eyes closed tight, it’s my father, with the youngest son’s hands on his shoulder, who leads the way up, with the youngest holding onto him, then the next, then the next, in a train, all following the other, all with eyes closed tight. Then there is glee as presents are opened, and all enjoy themselves. Mom acts as Mrs. Claus every year, handing each present under the tree to its recipient until there are none left. She always does it just right, so we end up with all the same amount of gifts.
After presents, there is always the ham breakfast, with cranberry juice and seven up. It’s traditional!
Those are only a few things that I associate each year with Christmas. I love the traditions, the happiness, the joy that’s felt each year around this time. I hope you all had a marvelous Christmas, and that the New Year will be wonderful.
And to all, a good night.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Black Hole Fillers
I've been thinking a lot lately about voids. I was watching a television show, something that is abnormal for me, a show called "Life," and in this show the character is asked how he extracted information from a person over the phone, and he said: "I asked, and then I waited. People like to fill a void." I've all ready talked about the void of noise that we like to fill. It's interesting to relate, but I believe that people like to fill more than just sound voids. I think that people like to fill relationship voids as well.
A relationship void is a tricky subject. In jest I referred to it as the "gay guy friend syndrome,"
which elicited an exclamatory rebuttal from Pelirojo, upon whom I experimented the title. In the interest of public approval and understanding, I will simply refer to this particular point as the "Black Hole Filler."
I call this type of friend, or this type of relationship to which I refer a "Black Hole Filler," or BHF for short, because there are times in every one's life when we feel as if our emotions are really a gaping black hole. There is little if anything of worth found in the there and the wounds or the confusion that we are suffering is such that there is little light that can penetrate the darkness. At the deepest part of the night we may even look up and wish that a certain experience had never been ours, or that we'd never known someone, or that we could be taken away just to show everyone how sorry they would be if we left. These feelings are the worst kind of void, the type that allows us to forget faith, forget friendships, and lose love, if we let it. There are ways out of even this blackest of nights, and I have come to trust in God as a loving friend who really is within reach. It's finding where to reach that is the trick.
This really isn't only an offering of light to those in darkness. It's also a warning. A warning because often we as humans look for something to fill that void in many things. We may look for them in religion, in music, in movies, in entertainment in general, in drink, in lewd companionship, or in a plethora of other healthy or unhealthy things. Most of those don't really fill anything, rather they procrastinate the pain, allowing it to grow. One of the fillers, those BHFs that are common among the honorable are friends. Either friends that are all ready around, or those that present themselves for the occasion.
I believe that such friendships can be good things. It allows those in the Black Hole a ray of sunshine, something tangible, something easier to hold onto than faith. It also provides the filler friend with a chance to understand pain and trial better, which gives an opportunity to grow compassion. I do not mean it is better to rely on friends than on faith, just momentarily easier and sometimes the way that faith saves us. Relying on friends has its complications, which I wish to discuss.
First off, the intentions of both parties are rarely discussed and understood before entering in on a BHF relationship. They spring out of necessity. A person is in pain, and someone else wants to help. During the pain the person is invaluable, helping with a cheering word, a needed smile, a fond embrace or even touch on the shoulder. The BHF is there, to help move through the blackness, to point out the light so hard to see for the person in pain. It is possible that outside of this help, one party feels little or no attachment. It is easy to happen, and often happens on the part of the person in pain. Once the night has passed, the light house is forgotten. This forgetfulness is by now means limited to the pained, though, and often passes to those who are acting as the fillers. If neither party has any attachment, then the risk of hurt is minimal. We must be cautious, however, that we do not treat flippantly any connection or attachment that has been made. It's possible that both people involved see the goodness in one another, and thereby fall madly in love with one another. As long as that love is set up on equality, that's a good thing. Hooray for happiness.
I've heard a lot about co-dependant, which I understand means that a person needs someone to need them. I suppose BHF relationship is a branch off of that. However, let us suppose, for the blog's sake, that a girl feels, for whatever reason, a void in her life. Here comes an average Joe (seriously, that's his name), who happens to find (we shall call her) Rachel attractive. Rachel seeks Joe's company, because he is a happy friend wishing to help an attractive friend out of a painful situation. Rachel improves. Rachel is thankful to Joe, but otherwise forgets him. Joe is hurt. Now Joe has a void. It becomes almost a process of pain. It's not something that always happens, and it most certainly is not only something that happens to the guy, but often the girl as well. I'm not sure how to avoid this. Maybe phone calls, or appreciation in more than distant words of praise would help, but on that front I am an amateur.
To sum up this entire blog, when someone is helping you out of something, or perhaps there is a good friend who is there for you when you have hard times, don't hurt that friend by forgetting her or him. I'm learning that those kind of friends are hard to come by, anyway, and even though we may walk as though blind, if we try to be aware, there is much we can do to make sure that if we ever need a BHF, we won't merely displace our Black Hole into someone else, but rather we will fill it with love. Love's the only thing faster than light anyway, so it can move in and out of Black Holes like nothing else.
Relationships in and of themselves are all to complex to lay out on a testing plate to explain it completely. Tolkien Boy told me that there is no previous experience for any relationship. Each one is different, and it's the truth. I only wished to put on aspect down here.
Oh, and just for the record, and so as to not provoke voids in anyone, I wrote this because of observations in others, and I don't currently suffer from or even feel that I am filling a Black Hole. I might be unconsciously helping some, but mostly I just continue to be myself, Major Bubbles, a Yellow.
A relationship void is a tricky subject. In jest I referred to it as the "gay guy friend syndrome,"
which elicited an exclamatory rebuttal from Pelirojo, upon whom I experimented the title. In the interest of public approval and understanding, I will simply refer to this particular point as the "Black Hole Filler."
I call this type of friend, or this type of relationship to which I refer a "Black Hole Filler," or BHF for short, because there are times in every one's life when we feel as if our emotions are really a gaping black hole. There is little if anything of worth found in the there and the wounds or the confusion that we are suffering is such that there is little light that can penetrate the darkness. At the deepest part of the night we may even look up and wish that a certain experience had never been ours, or that we'd never known someone, or that we could be taken away just to show everyone how sorry they would be if we left. These feelings are the worst kind of void, the type that allows us to forget faith, forget friendships, and lose love, if we let it. There are ways out of even this blackest of nights, and I have come to trust in God as a loving friend who really is within reach. It's finding where to reach that is the trick.
This really isn't only an offering of light to those in darkness. It's also a warning. A warning because often we as humans look for something to fill that void in many things. We may look for them in religion, in music, in movies, in entertainment in general, in drink, in lewd companionship, or in a plethora of other healthy or unhealthy things. Most of those don't really fill anything, rather they procrastinate the pain, allowing it to grow. One of the fillers, those BHFs that are common among the honorable are friends. Either friends that are all ready around, or those that present themselves for the occasion.
I believe that such friendships can be good things. It allows those in the Black Hole a ray of sunshine, something tangible, something easier to hold onto than faith. It also provides the filler friend with a chance to understand pain and trial better, which gives an opportunity to grow compassion. I do not mean it is better to rely on friends than on faith, just momentarily easier and sometimes the way that faith saves us. Relying on friends has its complications, which I wish to discuss.
First off, the intentions of both parties are rarely discussed and understood before entering in on a BHF relationship. They spring out of necessity. A person is in pain, and someone else wants to help. During the pain the person is invaluable, helping with a cheering word, a needed smile, a fond embrace or even touch on the shoulder. The BHF is there, to help move through the blackness, to point out the light so hard to see for the person in pain. It is possible that outside of this help, one party feels little or no attachment. It is easy to happen, and often happens on the part of the person in pain. Once the night has passed, the light house is forgotten. This forgetfulness is by now means limited to the pained, though, and often passes to those who are acting as the fillers. If neither party has any attachment, then the risk of hurt is minimal. We must be cautious, however, that we do not treat flippantly any connection or attachment that has been made. It's possible that both people involved see the goodness in one another, and thereby fall madly in love with one another. As long as that love is set up on equality, that's a good thing. Hooray for happiness.
I've heard a lot about co-dependant, which I understand means that a person needs someone to need them. I suppose BHF relationship is a branch off of that. However, let us suppose, for the blog's sake, that a girl feels, for whatever reason, a void in her life. Here comes an average Joe (seriously, that's his name), who happens to find (we shall call her) Rachel attractive. Rachel seeks Joe's company, because he is a happy friend wishing to help an attractive friend out of a painful situation. Rachel improves. Rachel is thankful to Joe, but otherwise forgets him. Joe is hurt. Now Joe has a void. It becomes almost a process of pain. It's not something that always happens, and it most certainly is not only something that happens to the guy, but often the girl as well. I'm not sure how to avoid this. Maybe phone calls, or appreciation in more than distant words of praise would help, but on that front I am an amateur.
To sum up this entire blog, when someone is helping you out of something, or perhaps there is a good friend who is there for you when you have hard times, don't hurt that friend by forgetting her or him. I'm learning that those kind of friends are hard to come by, anyway, and even though we may walk as though blind, if we try to be aware, there is much we can do to make sure that if we ever need a BHF, we won't merely displace our Black Hole into someone else, but rather we will fill it with love. Love's the only thing faster than light anyway, so it can move in and out of Black Holes like nothing else.
Relationships in and of themselves are all to complex to lay out on a testing plate to explain it completely. Tolkien Boy told me that there is no previous experience for any relationship. Each one is different, and it's the truth. I only wished to put on aspect down here.
Oh, and just for the record, and so as to not provoke voids in anyone, I wrote this because of observations in others, and I don't currently suffer from or even feel that I am filling a Black Hole. I might be unconsciously helping some, but mostly I just continue to be myself, Major Bubbles, a Yellow.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Christmas Power
I am a fan of Christmas. Over all other times and seasons, it is the Christmas season that most captivates me. Having never graduated from the kindergarten of maturity, the entire season is enchanting to me. As the snow falls on this happy time, it glints in the light of street lights on the corners, catching each snowflake in a moment of delight, a small glint of stardust falling on a world that sometimes ought to forget what is commonly thought to be reality.
There is so much that could be said about the goodness of Christmas. There are the candies, the songs, the good cheer, the overall excitement of children big or small, the “new world” look of an earth covered in snow, the presents, the family, the everything. But, if one pauses to consider, how do all these things come about? Why is it that in this specific time, a short month between Thanksgiving and the 25 of December the world (or at least, the world that surrounds me) sets aside many of its realities to embrace its fantasies? Why is that we can be so loving during this time? Why make any exception to the twelve month agenda? What’s different?
I guess that for some people it’s not, really. Those people are wonderful. Let me tell you why I think that the Christmas time is different.
It’s hard to get people to agree too much of anything. I personally am a fan of fantasy novels, once again because I probably never understood the difference between reality and fancy. Others enjoy books that are based in reality, things that could’ve happened, where what is imagined is little more than a name and a life, instead of an entire world, an entire universe. Obviously I say it that way because I like fantasy. The point, is, that making the human race agree is a pretty enormous task.
In religion this point is even more sharply distinct. There are so many beliefs, in many gods, in no gods, in one God, in one god of three, of three gods in one. It’s confusing just to consider the nature of the belief in God, and the role that Christ plays in each of these beliefs is just as diverse. There are many who believe him to be a great teacher, some who believe him nothing more than a great leader, an interesting historical figure, a prophet, the incarnation of God, or the Son of God, born to be our Savior, our King, and our Friend. In this time of Christmas, many are led to sing to Him, to talk of Him, and just to think on Him, and what He means to them. I think Christmas is so special, because behind the majority of beliefs of Christ there is this one: That someone named Jesus Christ indeed was born. The effect that this had might be disputed, the importance attached to it changes with different people, but the fact remains that many, if not most people agree that a good thing happened when Jesus was born.
I think that’s where the magic of Christmas stems from. So many people agree on the point. There was a Teacher, a Leader, a Son born once upon a time some two thousand years ago. That concordance of belief molds us into one thing: a people united. If Christmas, with that sole belief that something good happened when one being was born into this world, can change the very atmosphere felt by all into one full of understanding and compassion, perhaps we should strive to understand, to believe a little bit more. Maybe by understanding each other we’ll be able to believe a little more. Maybe, just maybe, that would unify us, and we could have Christmas time all the year long.
There is so much that could be said about the goodness of Christmas. There are the candies, the songs, the good cheer, the overall excitement of children big or small, the “new world” look of an earth covered in snow, the presents, the family, the everything. But, if one pauses to consider, how do all these things come about? Why is it that in this specific time, a short month between Thanksgiving and the 25 of December the world (or at least, the world that surrounds me) sets aside many of its realities to embrace its fantasies? Why is that we can be so loving during this time? Why make any exception to the twelve month agenda? What’s different?
I guess that for some people it’s not, really. Those people are wonderful. Let me tell you why I think that the Christmas time is different.
It’s hard to get people to agree too much of anything. I personally am a fan of fantasy novels, once again because I probably never understood the difference between reality and fancy. Others enjoy books that are based in reality, things that could’ve happened, where what is imagined is little more than a name and a life, instead of an entire world, an entire universe. Obviously I say it that way because I like fantasy. The point, is, that making the human race agree is a pretty enormous task.
In religion this point is even more sharply distinct. There are so many beliefs, in many gods, in no gods, in one God, in one god of three, of three gods in one. It’s confusing just to consider the nature of the belief in God, and the role that Christ plays in each of these beliefs is just as diverse. There are many who believe him to be a great teacher, some who believe him nothing more than a great leader, an interesting historical figure, a prophet, the incarnation of God, or the Son of God, born to be our Savior, our King, and our Friend. In this time of Christmas, many are led to sing to Him, to talk of Him, and just to think on Him, and what He means to them. I think Christmas is so special, because behind the majority of beliefs of Christ there is this one: That someone named Jesus Christ indeed was born. The effect that this had might be disputed, the importance attached to it changes with different people, but the fact remains that many, if not most people agree that a good thing happened when Jesus was born.
I think that’s where the magic of Christmas stems from. So many people agree on the point. There was a Teacher, a Leader, a Son born once upon a time some two thousand years ago. That concordance of belief molds us into one thing: a people united. If Christmas, with that sole belief that something good happened when one being was born into this world, can change the very atmosphere felt by all into one full of understanding and compassion, perhaps we should strive to understand, to believe a little bit more. Maybe by understanding each other we’ll be able to believe a little more. Maybe, just maybe, that would unify us, and we could have Christmas time all the year long.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Amor Vacuii
This last week I took a test, a test in my least favorite subject of all. Art history. It was a source of amazement to me how the study of something so beautiful could make it, to me, so downright boring as to make my weary body decide that it's needs, mainly that of sleep, were of much more importance than my brain's needs to fully process the information that would soon appear on tests to be. There was a constant struggle in that class to remain awake, and I'm afraid to say that often the body won out that debate. I became cleverer as time went on, though, and soon found interesting ways of keeping myself alert, if not particularly attentive, during that torturous hour and forty five minutes. I resorted to poem writing, bodily experiments involving fingers and dancing, and the most expensive of all binge snacking. All of these efforts were valiantly made, though I have to admit for the most part they were ineffective at helping me achieve higher than a c+ on my exams.
That being said, I was able to retain consciousness long enough during one lecture to learn something about those in the early medieval times. Not only were they medi-evil, (it's like being mostly dead), but they had an absolute abhorrence to empty spaces. They would decorate everything and anything as much as they could, not leaving a single spot without some embellishment. Their walls become more and more cluttered, they're architecture absolutely befuddled with embellishment, and their paintings positively filled with frills and fluffs. All of this only confused my poor weary mind, and led to the welcome oblivion of unconsciousness.
But that "Horror Vacuii" as pronounced by the professor has stuck with me. I don't think we're really all that much different now. We find different mediums through which we express our absolute terror of all empty spaces, of all vacuums. We cannot stand it. I will show you why.
I love my car. There are few worldly things that I enjoy as much as the rumbling of my cars engine as it chokes into life each morning and several times after that, or the way it rattles my hand as I wait at a traffic light. (I'm told that the rattling is a sign of something terribly wrong, but I get a sort of sick satisfaction out of it) I love my car, except it's radio. Some mad man, terribly afraid that someone in the car would one day have to live in, dear me, silence as he drove down the road made sure that the radio will never turn off. Quite literally, the radio will never turn off, only go so quiet that you cannot hear it. I understand that my car in this aspect is freakish indeed, but I think it reflects a popular attitude. That silence, a vacuum of noise, is not to be tolerated. We must never have silence, and shun it at all costs. Can you remember the last time you took a car ride and listened to just the sounds of the car? It might just deafen us if we listened. Or, while at home, how often is there music in the background, and how often not? At my work, it's amazing if we don't have two sources of sound constantly blaring. True, one of them happens to be myself, but the point is that some sort of electronic equipment is constantly going, without a break.
This extends as well to when we walk, sit, anything. If there is no source of noise, we find one. Friends who don't talk to each other talk on the cell phone, or put one noise creator into their ears, so as to not have to suffer through the silence. I-pods, cells phones, ancient Walkman, radios, cameras that record sound bytes, all seeking to fill the vacuum.
I discover more about myself in that vacuum than at any other time. Can you breathe in silence? When all the noise is hushed, and the serenity of silence surrounds you, are you comfortable? Sometimes I am not. Those are the times I find a good book to read, I write on the Internet, or worse still, I make noise so I don't have to deal with the void.
That being said, I was able to retain consciousness long enough during one lecture to learn something about those in the early medieval times. Not only were they medi-evil, (it's like being mostly dead), but they had an absolute abhorrence to empty spaces. They would decorate everything and anything as much as they could, not leaving a single spot without some embellishment. Their walls become more and more cluttered, they're architecture absolutely befuddled with embellishment, and their paintings positively filled with frills and fluffs. All of this only confused my poor weary mind, and led to the welcome oblivion of unconsciousness.
But that "Horror Vacuii" as pronounced by the professor has stuck with me. I don't think we're really all that much different now. We find different mediums through which we express our absolute terror of all empty spaces, of all vacuums. We cannot stand it. I will show you why.
I love my car. There are few worldly things that I enjoy as much as the rumbling of my cars engine as it chokes into life each morning and several times after that, or the way it rattles my hand as I wait at a traffic light. (I'm told that the rattling is a sign of something terribly wrong, but I get a sort of sick satisfaction out of it) I love my car, except it's radio. Some mad man, terribly afraid that someone in the car would one day have to live in, dear me, silence as he drove down the road made sure that the radio will never turn off. Quite literally, the radio will never turn off, only go so quiet that you cannot hear it. I understand that my car in this aspect is freakish indeed, but I think it reflects a popular attitude. That silence, a vacuum of noise, is not to be tolerated. We must never have silence, and shun it at all costs. Can you remember the last time you took a car ride and listened to just the sounds of the car? It might just deafen us if we listened. Or, while at home, how often is there music in the background, and how often not? At my work, it's amazing if we don't have two sources of sound constantly blaring. True, one of them happens to be myself, but the point is that some sort of electronic equipment is constantly going, without a break.
This extends as well to when we walk, sit, anything. If there is no source of noise, we find one. Friends who don't talk to each other talk on the cell phone, or put one noise creator into their ears, so as to not have to suffer through the silence. I-pods, cells phones, ancient Walkman, radios, cameras that record sound bytes, all seeking to fill the vacuum.
I discover more about myself in that vacuum than at any other time. Can you breathe in silence? When all the noise is hushed, and the serenity of silence surrounds you, are you comfortable? Sometimes I am not. Those are the times I find a good book to read, I write on the Internet, or worse still, I make noise so I don't have to deal with the void.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
A Question Answered
I admit it; I am selfishly satisfied at the amount of replies which I received. I think my favorite reply to my question of why girls date jerks would have to be the reply sent by my friend WM-Star, who simply put it "jerks are hot." While I personally do not agree with this statement, I think it leads quite nicely into my personal explanation of why guys date brainless girls. I here thank Devastator for adding a more complete complexity to the answer, and I also thank every single last one of you for the answers you provided. Maybe I'll ask a compelling question on every blog, just so I can get so many comments.
I heard once that blue and green are the most aesthetically pleasing colors to the human eye. I heard various opinions as to why, such as the prevalence of those two colors, but my personal opinion is because they're both just plain beautiful. God knew that we as humans would like those colors, so he made the sky blue, the sea a blue-green, and the mountainside and rolling hills a beautiful and luscious green. At least, that’s true if you live in the east. It was made that way so we could enjoy it. I'm afraid that men indeed were created so as to be attracted to beautiful women, and especially women who pay minute detail to their bodies and the portrayal of them. It's a truth that at one point in time all men have to come to grips with. They just like beauty. So, it is that we come to the male version of what WM-Star commented, and even Devastator commented. "Girls who aren't so academically inclined focus more on appearance, making them more attractive.” is what was said specifically and "jerks are hot" could then translate into "less academically inclined girls are hot." I for one do not agree, but the point has been made by others, and so it must appear here. The hormonal imbalance so common to men is a driving force that causes even normally coherent males to the dating of silly members of the opposite sex. This is only one point, and in my mind is all too often left as the only point as to why men date silly people. Because, after all, in the movie Emma the character of Mr. Knightly is quoted as having said "Men of character, no matter what you may say, do not want silly wives!" It's a little bit of an extrapolation to take dating to matrimony, but it's basically the same principle. So, what character is it that drives men to date silly women? Is it solely because of hormones, a lack of sense in the face of beauty? You might say that such is the case, but I plan to show that it is not solely hormones that drive men to silliness, but something much more deep.
Men are males. Yes, I know this is an obvious statement, but look for a moment at what it implies. Males have been known to always try and show off how very manly they are. Bucks and many other animals head butt each other repeatedly to see who bows out first. Men get into boxing matches and play sports. Most male animals do not have one partner for life, and lamentably the idea of having lots of women is a sign of masculinity (deplorable, but the truth in the world. Not the real truth, but it is the image of the world). Men go to great lengths to show how much of a male they really are, even doing such things as eating sardines out of a can. Pretty gross, but they do it. Why? Because men are males, and males have insecurities. Big ones. The type that makes them act like suicidal maniacs, to show themselves as much as to others that they are not afraid, and that they will not be beaten. Insecurity is a hard thing to overcome, and only those "men of character" can truly overcome it. Insecurity, then, is the reason I name as why men date silly women.
This insecurity comes in different stages, or shows itself in different ways. One of the biggest is the "what if" insecurity. What if it works out, and becomes something serious? Perhaps deep down inside a man rings out the "what if this gets serious?" question, a frightening prospect at best. The average college kid has no means of supporting two people, is not emotionally prepared for such an adventure, and the idea of such a commitment is daunting. Thus, they date people that they know they would never actually marry, such as girls who are going on missions. I find it interesting that right before someone leaves on their mission, they suddenly become very desirable. It's either because they are no longer available, or because they no longer pose a threat to a peaceful, contentedly single mind. Or perhaps the men who are close suddenly realized what a good thing they were going to be missing out on. Either way, men date people they know will not pose a "what if" question: the silly ones. Perhaps the insecurity of lack of preparation pushes men to date silly girls.
There's more to it, though. Sensible guys look good and feel good when they are with silly girls. Why? Silly girls laugh at everything, think you're absolutely brilliant even if you're not, will smile at any activity, will not complain ever, and will not make you think. When a guy goes on a date with a silly girl, he suddenly becomes alpha prime. He's with a beautiful girl, she thinks he's funny and smart, and doesn't even mind telling him so. The insecurities are gone, and the ego of said male will grow and grow. I don't know anyone who doesn't like to feel like Alpha Prime, and a good way to feel that way is go with someone who will think you're amazing no matter what. I don't mean to demean in anyway the admiration that is felt toward someone when you truly do love them, but this silly over-the-topness is definitely something that boosts self esteem. Guys like that. It decreases their faults by comparison, and it also helps them set aside other concerns, like there concern that driving girls all around in contributing to harmful gasses that expand the hole in the ozone layer. Those types of concerns are enough to give anyone a pimple attack.
This silly attitude of laughing at everything and finding everything good about someone is a type of flirting. At least, that's how most guys interpret it. By nature no one does not like to be rejected, and the same holds true for guys. It may even be truer. This idea that you're important enough to be found and accepted is something that runs all the way back to when as children we would play hide and go seek. It's great to be the first one found, to run back and have someone chase after you. But what if no one chased, because you weren't worth the effort? Thinking that guys don't fall pray to these kind of insecurities is to think a lie. Guys like to be chased after as well, or at least accepted and allowed to chase. The idea of guys and girls chasing after each other is the fundamental of both hide and go seek and dating, meaning that both can be fun at any age. Except that dating is a little inappropriate for little people. Seriously. The point is that guys learn from a very early age that they are supposed to chase after girls, and it's a lot more fun if they're allowed to do so. Silly girls are flirty, according to the popular stereotype. This provides and excellent target for men to chase. A target that they are sure will enjoy the hunt. Insecurities about whether or not a girl will accept to be sought after are hard to overcome, and I fear in many cases lead to men dating rather silly women.
I hope I have not been too harsh on either of the genders in what I say. I realize that I may be putting too much emphasis on the role that insecurity plays in this dating anomaly, and I am positive that there is a much truer and complex answer out there, but at least that provides some sort of explanation. In defense of my gender in general, I know many men who do not date silly women for the fact that they are silly. I know many men of character who recognize that they are not sure about everything, that they do have insecurities, but they do not let them bother their actions. I salute those men, and also the women of character who do not date jerks because they know that they are better. I admire both genders for their various and diverse strengths.
And so it is, a questioned is answered.
I heard once that blue and green are the most aesthetically pleasing colors to the human eye. I heard various opinions as to why, such as the prevalence of those two colors, but my personal opinion is because they're both just plain beautiful. God knew that we as humans would like those colors, so he made the sky blue, the sea a blue-green, and the mountainside and rolling hills a beautiful and luscious green. At least, that’s true if you live in the east. It was made that way so we could enjoy it. I'm afraid that men indeed were created so as to be attracted to beautiful women, and especially women who pay minute detail to their bodies and the portrayal of them. It's a truth that at one point in time all men have to come to grips with. They just like beauty. So, it is that we come to the male version of what WM-Star commented, and even Devastator commented. "Girls who aren't so academically inclined focus more on appearance, making them more attractive.” is what was said specifically and "jerks are hot" could then translate into "less academically inclined girls are hot." I for one do not agree, but the point has been made by others, and so it must appear here. The hormonal imbalance so common to men is a driving force that causes even normally coherent males to the dating of silly members of the opposite sex. This is only one point, and in my mind is all too often left as the only point as to why men date silly people. Because, after all, in the movie Emma the character of Mr. Knightly is quoted as having said "Men of character, no matter what you may say, do not want silly wives!" It's a little bit of an extrapolation to take dating to matrimony, but it's basically the same principle. So, what character is it that drives men to date silly women? Is it solely because of hormones, a lack of sense in the face of beauty? You might say that such is the case, but I plan to show that it is not solely hormones that drive men to silliness, but something much more deep.
Men are males. Yes, I know this is an obvious statement, but look for a moment at what it implies. Males have been known to always try and show off how very manly they are. Bucks and many other animals head butt each other repeatedly to see who bows out first. Men get into boxing matches and play sports. Most male animals do not have one partner for life, and lamentably the idea of having lots of women is a sign of masculinity (deplorable, but the truth in the world. Not the real truth, but it is the image of the world). Men go to great lengths to show how much of a male they really are, even doing such things as eating sardines out of a can. Pretty gross, but they do it. Why? Because men are males, and males have insecurities. Big ones. The type that makes them act like suicidal maniacs, to show themselves as much as to others that they are not afraid, and that they will not be beaten. Insecurity is a hard thing to overcome, and only those "men of character" can truly overcome it. Insecurity, then, is the reason I name as why men date silly women.
This insecurity comes in different stages, or shows itself in different ways. One of the biggest is the "what if" insecurity. What if it works out, and becomes something serious? Perhaps deep down inside a man rings out the "what if this gets serious?" question, a frightening prospect at best. The average college kid has no means of supporting two people, is not emotionally prepared for such an adventure, and the idea of such a commitment is daunting. Thus, they date people that they know they would never actually marry, such as girls who are going on missions. I find it interesting that right before someone leaves on their mission, they suddenly become very desirable. It's either because they are no longer available, or because they no longer pose a threat to a peaceful, contentedly single mind. Or perhaps the men who are close suddenly realized what a good thing they were going to be missing out on. Either way, men date people they know will not pose a "what if" question: the silly ones. Perhaps the insecurity of lack of preparation pushes men to date silly girls.
There's more to it, though. Sensible guys look good and feel good when they are with silly girls. Why? Silly girls laugh at everything, think you're absolutely brilliant even if you're not, will smile at any activity, will not complain ever, and will not make you think. When a guy goes on a date with a silly girl, he suddenly becomes alpha prime. He's with a beautiful girl, she thinks he's funny and smart, and doesn't even mind telling him so. The insecurities are gone, and the ego of said male will grow and grow. I don't know anyone who doesn't like to feel like Alpha Prime, and a good way to feel that way is go with someone who will think you're amazing no matter what. I don't mean to demean in anyway the admiration that is felt toward someone when you truly do love them, but this silly over-the-topness is definitely something that boosts self esteem. Guys like that. It decreases their faults by comparison, and it also helps them set aside other concerns, like there concern that driving girls all around in contributing to harmful gasses that expand the hole in the ozone layer. Those types of concerns are enough to give anyone a pimple attack.
This silly attitude of laughing at everything and finding everything good about someone is a type of flirting. At least, that's how most guys interpret it. By nature no one does not like to be rejected, and the same holds true for guys. It may even be truer. This idea that you're important enough to be found and accepted is something that runs all the way back to when as children we would play hide and go seek. It's great to be the first one found, to run back and have someone chase after you. But what if no one chased, because you weren't worth the effort? Thinking that guys don't fall pray to these kind of insecurities is to think a lie. Guys like to be chased after as well, or at least accepted and allowed to chase. The idea of guys and girls chasing after each other is the fundamental of both hide and go seek and dating, meaning that both can be fun at any age. Except that dating is a little inappropriate for little people. Seriously. The point is that guys learn from a very early age that they are supposed to chase after girls, and it's a lot more fun if they're allowed to do so. Silly girls are flirty, according to the popular stereotype. This provides and excellent target for men to chase. A target that they are sure will enjoy the hunt. Insecurities about whether or not a girl will accept to be sought after are hard to overcome, and I fear in many cases lead to men dating rather silly women.
I hope I have not been too harsh on either of the genders in what I say. I realize that I may be putting too much emphasis on the role that insecurity plays in this dating anomaly, and I am positive that there is a much truer and complex answer out there, but at least that provides some sort of explanation. In defense of my gender in general, I know many men who do not date silly women for the fact that they are silly. I know many men of character who recognize that they are not sure about everything, that they do have insecurities, but they do not let them bother their actions. I salute those men, and also the women of character who do not date jerks because they know that they are better. I admire both genders for their various and diverse strengths.
And so it is, a questioned is answered.
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