The Best We Can Do.

It is commonly said that an artist creates a perfect world.

I would like to be a real writer for the same reason. I've always wanted to do something major and positive for the world, and I've recently realized that I can do that as a professional creator.

I raised myself. My parents never really had any input into my development in any significant personal ways, despite their presence. I instead became who I am today because of superheroes. I have constructed my own worldview, my own specific definitions of right, wrong, good, evil, and existence in general from my own difficult exploration through literature and other media. Every bit of goodness I have, all of my dreams, the entirety of my hope and strength come from video games, comic books, movies, and books. I literally owe the Legend of Zelda, Batman, and The Matrix my life.

That said, if we accept the hypothesis that as a writer, I create and tell the story of a perfect world, that means I can lift people's souls, and perhaps change them for the better in the same way so many blessed artists have changed me.

Keeping in mind that I could think of nothing better for myself than to write professionally, I am about to spoil every single story I would ever write for you, because this entry is not about my career. It is about my Utopia.

In my perfect world, things are just as shitty. The difference [if the real world is in fact so different] is that everything exists for everything else. We, as people, are here to make life easier for every other person. Bad things still happen, that's just the way it works. But people start to recognize that if we try to make life better for the suffering, we all end up happier, stronger, wiser, greater, and above all, holier than we were before.

Do whatever makes you feel like you deserve to exist, and honor your character, but don't make life harder for anyone else.

We can all be happy.

This is why I worship the hero archetype so fervently. The "superhero", to me, is any person that decides to use every part of themselves, both the good and the bad, to help the world. Everything you ever see me write will follow this theme. I have never believed anything as profoundly as I believe in this collectivist principle.

So I may have ruined the trip for you. But I can promise that anything I write will find some unique way to say this simple thing. Because this theme is universal, and it touches everything.

I hope I can embolden people with my work in the same way I have experienced.

God Damn It, You're The Problem.

There's an old saying that "There's a sucker born every minute". I submit that there's an asshole born every two.

I am continuously disgusted with the entitlement, gall, and overall douchebaggery that common people seem to have these days. This is not some dejected register jockey's whine. This is not some Nietzschean attempt at elitism. This is me, a somewhat normal, overall nice person telling every pompous dickwad consumer to sit the fuck down.

Guess the fuck what? You are not that fucking important.

The American economy seems to be based on the principle that the consumer is some sort of Pharaoh, a god-king whose authority cannot be questioned, as the lifeblood of our world.

Fuck that.

You are convinced that you can define yourself by buying shit you don't need. You are so vacuous and wasted that you need things make yourself feel better. When you go shopping, you work with clerks who are just as human as you. Just as scared, just as weak, just like you, but that doesn't matter, because you want your burrito, and you want it now. It doesn't matter that there are people in line ahead of you, and it surely doesn't matter that the cooks and servers are working as hard as they can, and for that matter, probably much harder than you do at your job. I realize that's a big assumption on my part, but if you did work as hard as they did, you'd have more compassion you miserable piece of shit.

But as Kenny Corporate learned at the Schaumburg Qdoba today, I won't put up with your shit anymore.

First of all, you were in line less than 15 seconds before it got to you. I would know, I walked in right behind you. If you're that impatient, you should have your legs broken. Maybe a month of elevators and steep ramps will teach you to slow the fuck down.

It's twelve-thirty in a popular restaurant across from Woodfield. You should have known it would be busy.

But really, you don't need me repeating this. I think I summed it up pretty well when I tapped you on the shoulder and said, as politely as possible, "It's not their fault you're in a hurry. They are doing the best they can, and you're coming off like an idiot."

But you didn't really want to hear that, did you? You "Are paying way too much money for this fucking food as it is, those lazy Mex...Hisp...lazy teenagers aren't working hard enough".

As an excellent teacher once said: "I have a policy about honesty and ass-kicking, and that is if you ask for it, I have to let you have it". This guy has lost all of his rights to a fair fight, so I go right ahead and dig in.

"Well clearly you know what you're talking about when it comes to labor, and I suppose I understand your financial concerns, when you pulled up in that Lexus, I should have known you're just doing what you can to make ends meet. But with your Roosevelt University window sticker, I guess I just assumed you'd be able to notice that this is the busiest time of the day for them, or, for that matter, that there are other people waiting in line in the exact same boat as you. You're no better than any of us, you arrogant waste of time. So, considering you are now at the front of the line, and your ever important burrito is already being made, maybe you could shut the hell up and let these people work."

He didn't say anything else. To anyone. Just threw some cash at the clerk and walked away at a decent clip. Everyone watched him leave. I got a free drink.

People like him make the world worse for all of us. Stop taking yourself so goddamn seriously, and try to consider that everyone has their own shit to deal with, they don't need any more from you.

And to those of us that are kind, patient, goodly folk, you don't have to put up with this. Most of the time these people just act like this because they think they have the right. Call them on it. Fix the problem. It might not be your business, but the employees can't fight back, so if you don't, who will? If the agitator doesn't want to accept your polite advice, if they remain convinced that they are better than the worker, or even better than you, put them in their place and tell them to fuck off.

It's Been Too Long.

Much has changed, and much has not. I'll try to post more. I'm quitting school after this semester. I just can't take Harper anymore. It will at elast give me time to start getting some writing done. I'm going to go ahead and pledge a weekly post. I have no idea what the hell I will say. I'll say it anyway.

Hell on the horizon
This should be interesting.

God is a Concept.

Fairy tales are importants explorations of imagination and morality for children. Religion is a fairy tale for adults. It doesnt matter if it's possible. That's not the point. Religion is a combination of wonderful inspiration and moral caution for adults. It should be treated as such.

Why I Don't Give a Shit.

Because ultimately, giving a shit about oneself only causes undue suffering. I really don't give a damn about what happens anymore, and this will sound bleak and nihilistic, but its because all paths lead to the grave. And I'm not tyring to be melancholy, I actually like that idea. Life is messy difficult and most of the time, filled with pain. Death, by contrast might be the easiest thing in the world. I'm not going to kill myself, and it's not like I'm really looking forward to the end. I'm ready for it though, because really, living is a crapshoot and I'm not much of a gambler. But that's all right. Making peace with existence is salvation. So really, the only thing I believe in is the "fuck it" principle. Something isn't going right? Fuck it, it'll be gone in a while. I find it immensely comforting. So when I wake up tomorrow, I'm going to be the same Tom, I'll still do everything the same, and I'll still get angry with the government, and I'll still think that socialism is cool, and I'll still want to save the world. The difference is now, when things don't go as planned, that's ok.

I didn't give a shit in the first place.

A New Dawn.

Semiregular blog entries will begin again as of 12:00 p.m. of Tuesday, January 29.

Upcoming topic: Why I don't give a shit.

Transference.

Further entries will be postponed until I sort a few things out. Check back on Friday.

I find it incomparably amazing how life/fate/karma/god/luck/chaos so consistently vex me, lift my spirits, then sink them again. Originally I surmised it was some sort of bipolar disorder, but that didn't make sense, because concrete events in my life were causing these reactions, not drifting disaffected dreaming, chemical imbalances slowly driving me mad.

A number of these such specific events have occurred, and since the real purpose of this blog is not to narrate my inane personal life, but rather and exploration of the larger concepts behind life, I will keep this entry on a strictly conceptual level, with no specific enumerated references.

Every single time I become hopeful about something, especially something that would be good for me, or even good for others, some sort of insurmountable roadblock is cast in front of me, despite the situation. Love, career, dreams, everything I truly want I am denied, and in turn I am flooded with everything I don't need. I regress and protest, this cannot be real, coincidental, someone, something is teasing me, something wants me unhappy, something is doing this on purpose, and will stop soon. I suppose this could actually be true, but I just don't believe it anymore. The fact is, my problems are probably an emulsion of blind chance and bad decisions.

But chance is rarely this persistent, and I can't figure out what I'm doing wrong. But when the score is counted, it really doesn't matter where all of this came from.

So.

I'm beaten, and I'm not sure if I want to bother getting back up. I really don't think I have the energy left.

Madness is a blessing
Reality is the curse
Deny coherence.

Outsourcing My Waterboarding.

The majority of tonight's post is in fact authored by my good friend Scott Arakawa. The final paragraph will be my humble afterword.

On Waterboarding:

Now, this is not a wholesome activity one does on the family's annual lake outing. I heard about waterboarding here and there over the past year, but only decided to give it a thorough googling today. Apparently, it's all the rage in the CIA, who are licensed to use it, and many branches of the military, who aren't. I had a basic idea of what it was and thought it did sound like torture, but finally seeing it sure was a nasty sight. Although, I have to admit, I did enjoy watching the Fox News Correspondent getting nearly drowned. His response to the torture was interesting. He seemed to admire it more than condemn it. He respected, to paraphrase, how quickly one could rebound from a complete breakout to normalcy in such a short amount of time, in awe about how clever we are for using it. Granted, it is a brilliant technique, in that it can be controlled very precisely and does not put the suspect in too great of danger (when administered properly). However, undergoing the process, for not more than five seconds, and going on and on about how "great" it is seems irresponsible. There was no debate or even an exchange of ideas over how ethical/effective this form of interrogation is. The piece was only a story about how the reporter got waterborded. It seemed to serve only to prove the method's effectiveness.

The Wikipedia article is a pretty grim read. Our approved method seems tame compared to the Spanish Inquisition, the Nazis, Soviets, and Imperial Japan. In addition to the gag reflex going off, the feeling of dying and drowning, there are beatings, sometimes to engorged stomachs due to the amount of water forced into the victim. And some of the photos on Google image search are pretty rough as well.

Despite having seen these mounds of horrific images and descriptions, I flirted with the idea of trying it on myself. I also quickly abandoned the idea upon learning, not only, that CIA agents can only take up to 14 seconds of the stuff, but the most hardened terrorist holds a record of sorts by lasting no more than two minutes before begging to confess. Some experts believe nothing came of those confessions, but still, getting a man to say, "do it to Julia!" in under five minutes is pretty impressive.

I think the first few drops would do it for me. The rag wouldn't even have to be more than damp. Now I really feel guilty about using this method to get my little brother to do my laundry.

As a note: I drew a quick ms paint sketch of what waterboarding looks like, to lighten the mood and to illustrate the process.

At the time of posting, I am consumed with anger and cynicism from a number of sources. This puts me over the top. How can anyone ever think that such horrible actions are ever justified? I no longer have any faith in America, and my faith in humanity is meager, and nearly eroded.

What It Is.

Next thursday will be the requested post on Jesus. Tomorrow will be my collaborative effort with Scott on Waterboarding, and other forms of institutional torture. I'm hereby discontinuing media sunday , although there will likely be many media posts dispersed throughout the week.

Tonight, I'm going to tell you about God.

I'm of the opinion that all religions are all basically the same thing, with geographic culture flavoring each one. Every religion is based on one principle: Don't take yourself too seriously. You're really not very important. Every religion coalescles into describing evil as the intentional harming of others, especially for selfish ends. For that reason, I say the following in a largely secular manner, and I feel this applies to all religious practice.

>God, in some ultimately nameless form, exists. "God" is simply the name Judaeo-Christian societies assign to it, but no name can truly describe it.
>God is the ultimate expression of existence, and represents the innate divinity of being.
>Heaven and Hell exist.
>Heaven is the joining of your soul back to the original, innate divinity.
>We live in Hell. There is no fire and brimstone, just a planet where we are separated from God, where our existence is marked mostly by pain, where we can do harm to one another, where evil is man's doing.
>Understanding the innate divinity of your existence, and the subsequent release of ego and self centeredness that comes with it, is called Nirvana.
>Nirvana frees you from the shackles of earthly reality, and you may live the rest of your life, in peace. When we die, our energy we recirculate back into the earth, as we fertilize grass and plants and thus feed animals, even in death, we are forever present in life. Nirvana rejoins our souls with that innate divinity of being, the lifeforce of all things, that which I have before referred to as God.
>Death is not a step in the spiritual process. Everyone rejoins the lifeforce upon death; those who find Nirvana in life simply join that divine existence earlier, and get to experience life through God's eyes.
>God is not around.
>God does not answer your prayers.
>God does not care about you.
>God did not make humans, with all their cunning and potential, for them to run back for crutches and candy and other such nonsense.
>God is not Omniscient, or Omnipotent, or, hell, even paying attention. He has no eyes or mouth, he does not run our world. God is just a ball of being, the expressed totality of existence.
>Each person experiences just a small slice of reality. God is the whole pie.
>We are here to be human, and nothing else.
>Religion is a personal evolutionary tool, and it should therefore expand for the individual when necessary, and be discarded when it is no longer useful for the individual.
>Religion is, ultimately, the clothing we put on reality. As each one of us differs in taste for style, naturally, religion is unique to each person.
>In the long run, it really doesn't matter what you believe; no religion saves from earthly death, even though the main religious comfort is to do just that.
>Relax. Despite how poor or rich your life has been, we are all equal in death. Enjoy what you can while you're here, and do your best to ease the undue suffering of others. There is no higher purpose.

Peace be with you all.

Here it comes.

I stole this from a craigslist page I stumbled upon. It's a hell of a summary of everything I fear is true. So I post if for the enjoyment of the men, and the benefit of the women, although there are only a few of you from either side reading this. Truth is, I don't really care. I'm just here to spread the anger.



"I see this question posted with some regularity in the personals section, so I thought I'd take a minute to explain things to the ladies out there that haven't figured it out.

What happened to all the nice guys?

The answer is simple: you did.

See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a Platonic guy pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He'd tag along with you when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but didn't feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were fucking treated you.

At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay attention to him. They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush on you. Given that his behavior was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and buttressed your position by claiming that you were "just friends." Besides, he totally wasn't your type. I mean, he was a little too short, or too bald, or too fat, or too poor, or didn't know how to dress himself, or basically be or do any of the things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time pulled off with such ease.

Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was, admittedly, a little weird, if you werent dating him. More time passed, and the boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realized that the things that attracted you to him weren't the kinds of things that make for a good, long-term relationship. So, now, you're single again, and after having tried the bar scene for several months having only encountered players and douche bags, you wonder, "What happened to all the nice guys?"

Well, once again, you did.

You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind, with physical intimacy. You laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion. You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive "just-a-" friend. Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to realize, one day, that women aren't really attracted to guys who hold doors open; or make dinners just because; or buy you a Christmas gift that you mentioned, in passing, that you really wanted five months ago; or listen when you're upset; or hold you when you cry. He came to realize that, if he wanted a woman like you, he'd have to act more like the boyfriend that you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making some money, and generally acted like more of an asshole than he ever wanted to be.

Fact is, now, he's probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate rejection of him is to thank for that. And I'm sorry that it took the complete absence of "nice guys" in your life for you to realize that you missed them and wanted them. Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if that.

So, if you're looking for a nice guy, here's what you do:

1.) Build a time machine.
2.) Go back a few years and pull your head out of your ass.
3.) Take a look at what's right in front of you and grab ahold of it.

I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don't really want a nice guy, but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your infantile taste in men. In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has, in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism and resentment onto someone just like you.

If you were five years younger.

So, please: either stop misrepresenting what you want, or own up to the fact that you've fucked yourself over. You're getting older, after all. It's time to excise the bullshit and deal with reality. You didn't want a nice guy then, and he certainly doesn't fucking want you, now.

Sincerely,

A Recovering Nice Guy"



I'm not at his stage of cynicism yet, although certain events are brewing that will probably put me there. Many things are about to change.

I Really Can't Think of An Appropriate Title.

I'm no longer going to be posting every day. Due to low weekday traffic, I will no longer write a mandatory entry on Monday through Thursday. Granted, if I feel like posting, I will.

Thursday nights are now request night, comment with a topic you'd like to see, and I'll post about it on the next closest Thursday.

I spent the entirety of my day watching movies and playing video games. 10 Questions For The Dalai Lama, Annie Hall, and Born Into Brothels were all excellent. I especially dug Annie Hall. It's made it on my top 15 list in one viewing. Tomorrow night's post will cover Bruce Lee.

Have a good time.

Hell The Fuck Yeah.

No specific post tonight. I'm feeling pretty good, and thus most of my writing has been done in my personal journal. Nothing too interesting to people that are not me anyway. Other than that, I beat Super Mario Galaxy tonight, the ending was excellent, as was the rest of the game. 59 stars to go. Administrative chages will be occuring with the blog itself, due to fluctuating reader base and other circumstances. I'll report the chages once I think of them.

You all have a good time.

Role Models.

A significant potion of my entertainment life is and has been devoted to video games. I can't remember a time in my life that didn't involve at least some light gaming. Video games have largely shaped who I am. What I always felt the most were the characters and plotlines; I am still a little boy in many ways, I have never outgrown the desire to be a superhero.

My favorite video games were never of the cash cow ultraviolence variety. My favorite video games always involved saving the princess, and ridding the world of malevolence. Granted, most video games can't operate without some fomr of violence, but in these more heroic escapades, aggression was the means, not the end. I never left feeling that strength, brutality, and superior force were the admirable traits to absorb, but rather the selflessness, courage, and overall goodness of the heroes I worshipped. Reflecting on my 5 favorite video games ever [in no particular order]:

>Zelda II: The Adventure of Link
>Super Mario Brothers 3
>Mega Man 3
>Sonic the Hedgehog 3
>Shining Force

It becomes apparent that all of these games follow the same motivational formula, for not only the characters, but the perceptive player: "Someone or something is causing undue harm to a person, a people, or a world. I should do something about it." I would say that this is an important civic standpoint. Using Zelda II [or any other game in the Zelda series] as an example, The main character is named Link. In each game, Link will wake up one day to find trouble befalling his village, his world, or his Princess Zelda. Link does not hesitate, does not calculate, does not fear, does not consider the benefits to himself. Link sees that people need help, and sets off to do everything he can to help them. Not once does he consider profit, or fame, or any other selfish trappings. He simply does all he can for all others.

I cannot see any quality more deserving of emulation than that kind of compassion. Characters and situations like that are why I play video games; because in such fantasies can I save the world, which in my legitimate life, is a relatively impossible thing. Our society is not set up for such situations or heroes, and perhaps that is for the better.

Either way, mythological hero figures allow me to tap into the mystical, heroic part of my soul, an ancient aspect of our collective unconscious makeups, a common thread in all religion and fable.

For The Ladies.

I am not allowed to say that abortion is good or bad. I'm a man; I don't have a uterus, so I really have no right.

The same goes for any government institution. Authority has gone too far the second that it decides what a person is allowed to do with their body. I am a strong believer in personal freedom, and therefore I feel that the decision should lie between a woman and her doctor. Of course, the right to have an abortion implies that any doctor has the right to decline performing one. The decision should fall on the judgement of the parties involved.

I would suppose the father would have some sort of say in this, but again, he's not doing the birthing, so I'm not sure that's entirely fair.

There's a bit of a moral hangup in defining just when a child is alive, at least human enough to make an abortion murder. This may be the most nebulous moral issue of our times. I would like to submit the viewpoint that until the umbilical cord is severed, the child is technically still a part of the mother, and therefore she has full control over what happens to it. It sounds callous, but it's the only perspective that makes sense to me. Since the child is still symbiotically attached to the mother, the mother should have reign.

My Grandpa Ain't No Monkey.

I'm done with moronic fucking people that claim Intelligent Design is a scientific theory. Fuck you. You know nothing about science, you knuckledragging sunfearing neanderthal.

Before I get too inflammatory, let me explain where I stand.

I'm an extremely metaphysical person. I'm a pretty dedicated theist, and I entirely believe that the reality we experience is a subjective slice of the whole of existence. I'm also not a fucktard. I understand that what I believe is of completely religious nature. Every single person is entitled to their religious beliefs, and as such, religion education, save that in the context of History/The Humanities [curriculum about religion with intent to demonstrate other viewpoints, not to reach as fact]. Here's the deal:

Intelligent Design is in NO WAY a scientific theory. It is entirely religious speculation. Science education is the teaching of scientific theory and method applied to the physical world. It is necessarily devoid of religious speculation. From a basic perspective, I suppose I even believe in the concept that a divine force made existence with intent and purpose. But guess the fuck what? I understand that the idea is entirely religious.

If you want Intelligent Design mentioned in modern US History courses, or in Humanities courses, or Mythology courses, go ahead; you have every right. But for the love of your God, keep it out of Science curriculum, sheep. If you disagree, and think that your "new theory" isn't just repolished monotheism, by all means, comment, and I'll be happy to tell you to go to Hell.

I'm Mad As Hell.

And I'm not going to take it anymore.

I just watched Network for the first time, and it skyrocketed to my favorite movie ever, by a large margin. If you've never seen it, i strong suggest you make the time. It's everything I feel, condensed to 2 hours and 16 minutes of film.

More importantly, a certain youtube video was recently brought to my attention. This video is a complete and blatant ripoff of Gamespotting, the high quality What's In The Bag production. Granted I had no part in its production, but I still hate such blatant plagiarism when I see it. If you at all value quality independent video production, you'll troll the knockoff like it shat on your grandmother. The original, legit video can be viewed here.

That's all I have really. Religion post tomorrow. Have a good night.

A Night Off.

I don't have much tonight, I really enjoyed writing the unrequited love post. Anyone with any requests is more than welcome to submit them. This is the plan for this weekend:

>Friday: Darwinism and Intelligent Design.
>Saturday: Abortion and Why It Doesn't Matter.
>Sunday: My Favorite Video Games.

That's all for tonight, you all have a good one.

Never To Have Loved At All.

First off, the New Hampshire Primary did not at all go as I expected, but I am by no means overly excited; Super Tuesday is where the fun is. The post topic of unrequited love was requested by a reader, and I am happy to oblige. Also, any comments requesting a post topic, or discussion of particular material is welcome and appreciated. Posts of such intimate magnitude will not be common, mostly because I don't want to come off as the useless dejected whining blogger. Either way, here's what I have.

I'm no stranger to unrequited love. In fact, we often vacation together. Unrequited is never really invited, but comes along without my consent, always as a coerced product of adventure. The fact is though, you never really get used to its John Candyish presence. The only advice I really have is to forever accept that any time you ask someone to join you on the ride, there's a chance [higher for some of us than others] that Unrequited is going to call shotgun.

The trouble of course really comes to those among us who fall under the category of Hopeless Romantics; people who idealize love, and idealize people, and attach so profoundly to the person that they are interested in, despite the fact that the spiteful steamroller of lovefate rolls them flat one more time. But, hopeless as we are, we cartoonishly reinflate ourselves with compressed air from the roadside, and head back after the Roadrunner. or perhaps a different Roadrunner, knowing the whole time that the end result will likely be the same, and we still keep trying to catch that damned bird. Of course, the worst part is that the whole time, we still love the person, and still convince ourselves it's worth fighting for, and best of all, still think that we are the only person on earth who can make them happy. We live every day in Zach Braff melodrama and romantic comedy anticipation. And the better ones among us will often keep quiet about the whole thing, valuing the other person's happiness over our own, preferring they never know what they mean to us, as after all, they're just happier this way. Unrequited love is the purest love there is. The most amazing part of the whole thing is how those with the emotional sensitivity necessary to be such romantics also enjoy books, music, and movies revolving around the principle that the true, honest, unrequited lover wins out in the end, and everyone is happy after the 100-minute circlejerk of rainbows kisses in the rain. The people susceptible to the heartbreak of one-way admiration consistently reinforce themselves with images and ideas and concepts that their true love will always unflinchingly prevail.

Some of us realize it's not true, and move on. Some realize it's not true and break down. Some stay in the dream world.

And I know this whole entry took a bitter and jaded turn, and I'm sorry, but even so, it's only fair you know that I still do believe in love, and still break myself up over it. I still listen to Ben Gibbard and watch Garden State and drift off in little saccharine girl-specific fantasy episodes, complete with picket fences and joyous lives together.

As I close now I see no concise point in this whole rant, other than to identify with any readers that may be hurting right now, or whenever they read this, or even those who are happy at this moment and need something to relate to later when their love life takes a bad turn. Therefore, in solidarity with all my lovesick comrades, I hereby publish a summary of the history of my love life, for whatever cathartic value it's worth.

>I've pined over 36 individual girls with significant attention.
>I never did anything about 30 of them, too afraid to act, or just not having the chance.
>I've confessed my feelings to 5 of them; they were all uninterested. I politely withdrew my efforts.
>Except for one girl, who I asked out twice. A firm "no" both times.
>One sweet girl was interested in me for reasons I still don't and never will understand, it lasted for 3 uneventful weeks, and then it was over, no hard feelings.
>Overall, I'm batting... well, zero.

I'm not complaining. I've dealt with it, and it's all taken care of. But for those feeling down about their romantic escapades, look back on this list, laugh if you want to, because it's actually all quite funny, for whatever it's worth.

This Is Nice.

I feel free. I've taken great steps in giving up concern. I'd like to think of myself as independent of reality. I've just given up effort; it's time for me to let the river of life carry me out to sea. I've just let everything go. While I'm committed to doing good for the world, I realize I can't fight fate, and I'm just going to have to wait for my cue. When it comes, I'll step out on stage, play my part, and exit, more than content to hang out backstage until the afterparty, which should be pretty fun.

I'm going to teach History, and perhaps branch into the other social sciences, maybe even Humanities. I couldn't feel better about this decision. I want to help, and I help by facilitating others. I want to work with important social subjects, and this way I can pass the strength of knowledge onto others, onto a generation that's going to need to be very concerned about the past, as it faces an exponentially altering future.

Of course, not being one to notice such things, it has recently occurred to me that I have no idea what kind of schooling is involved. If anyone has any information on the education process for a future educator, please, enlighten me.

That's all I have for tonight, and as per request, tomorrow's post will be on the subject of unrequited love.

You all have a good one.

Cinematic Affairs.

I'd like to give screenwriting a sincere shot. I've got a few ideas locked away in a journal, and I hope they come to fruition. Whatever will be will be.

So I've got this new Netflix account, and I couldn't love it more. I'm splitting the bill with my sister, which means I'm spending 7.50 a month for unlimited 1 movie changeouts. I can watch at least 2 movies a week, which means that in the end, I'm paying at most 94 cents for each movie rental. The selection is amazing, and browsing for movies has the feel of browsing on wikipedia; one movie leads to another, until you're wallowing in cinematic delight. Go to www.netflix.com for the good times; I hope you enjoy it.

Tom out, have a good time.

Politico.

I'm a Pseudo-Socialist. I believe that the government exists to benefit the people, meaning that programs such as social security, universal health care, and other such quality of life programs are innately good, and should be the primary function of the government. I am by no means advocating communism and collectivism; the free market is the best system possible. The free market allows each person full freedom of what they purchase and own, and also allows each consumer to support only the companies and brands that they like with their money. The kink in the system, where I think the government belongs, is when large and powerful corporations form and exploit people and resources.

Now that my economic position is clear, I should make manifest that in terms of social issues, I am a staunch Democrat.

I care about liberty. I don't care if two men have sex. I don't care if a woman wants to have an abortion; I don't have a uterus, so I'm really not qualified to decide what a woman can do with it.

Regarding the 2008 election, I recently took a test that matches the taker's views with that of candidates in the upcoming presidential election. The test can be taken here. While I officially endorse Barack Obama, as I see him as the light and hope of a new generation, The test has matched me with John Edwards, who i would not at all mind electing president. I'm most in favor of a Obama/Edwards race, with Edwards as the vice president.

That's all I have for tonight, you all have a good time.

Hallelujah.

I think that there's a god, or at least some kind of cosmic force. I am consistently bombarded with humor and coincidence that keeps me convinced. I'm not saying that there's a big dude in the sky watching our every move and passing us along his little plan. That's stupid. I understand that some people believe that, and you have every right to, just like I have every right to call you sheep.

I don't worship a shepherd. I worship an amalgamation of life and existence. I worship that which holds everything together. I worship the innate divinity in being, because we are all just bits of energy, just atoms, made of groups of electrical charges, organized into unfathomable complexity for one purpose: to be, exactly as we are.

The purpose of life is to be human. Accepting this truth is the path to salvation. Salvation is nothing but the ability to accept life, to live without causing harm, to bring your soul to harmony with the world. Salvation is realizing that life is innately strange, dirty, and absurd, and if anything, should be made fun of. If you need proof, I submit the Duck Billed Platypus. No reason for that. Salvation is being, in every possible sense.

These things I say can be accepted by those of any faith, and those of antifaith. That which I have stated is what I have faith in: There is some kind of governing force, that the purpose of life is to discover the truth, and that the salvation entailed involves perfect acceptance while living. And that, most importantly, life is an odd little game, comprised of improbability and infinite wonder.

Most of what I discuss on Fridays henceforth will be of a speculatory nature, but it would not be fair to you if I did not explicitly state where I stand.

Have a good time.

Things to Come.

Today was nice overall; The caucus party was inimitably enjoyable. The caucus party was of course the brain child of my good friend Mike, whose other ideas can be viewed on his blog, My Nu Life. I'm actually quite happy with the results, although I'll refrain from political discussion until Saturday. On that note, an itinerary for this weekend's posts:

Friday: Where I stand religiously, all of my current speculations, and what I feel about reality.
Saturday: My political standpoint, along with my opinions/predictions for the 2008 election.
Sunday: Review of my new Netflix account.

I'm still looking for topics for next weekend, so if you'd like to see me write about something that falls under the scheduled categories, [see previous post] then by all means comment to suggest something.

Now for a more personal declaration.

I don't really know who I am or what I am supposed to do with my life. I'd like to consider myself intelligent, but of course I have no empirical evidence to support such claims. I'd like to say that I'm charismatic, but I really don't think anyone as introverted as I could legitimately claim to be an entertainer. I most wish to think of myself as a good person, but good and evil are often subjective, and the good that I idealize for myself, the good of rescuing princesses and saving agrarian feudalisms from monstrous destruction is hard to come by in the modern day. I hope that I am kind enough, because really, all I want to do is help everyone else along. Life is innately filled with enough suffering; I'd of course not want to add to anyone's, and I'd try to alleviate the pain that I can.

I spend most of my time thinking, and I've realized that we all live in a dream world, where vast corrupted megacorporations exploit us then hang us out to dry, where our government turns a blind eye to the plight of its citizens, too busy securing resources and land to handle domestic concerns [unless, of course, you might be a terrorist, then you'll get all kinds of attention paid to you.] We live in fog, we live so concerned for ourselves, so blind to reality until it is too late to change, we care for nothing that does not directly effect us, we chew our cud and wait in the slaughterhouse line, not hoping, but just not noticing our doom. We are asleep.

I'm here to wake you.

At least I'd like to be. I'm certainly no messiah; I'm just trying to help you save yourselves. If I can wake just one person with the ideas I present henceforth, then I will not have worked in vain. If I can help anyone break out of the prisons created for our minds and souls, I just might be able to live with myself. Make no mistake as to what I'm saying; I won't be spending every post weaving conspiracy theories or hardballing some kind of gnostic theology. I will simply try to expose everyone reading to new ideas, or at least my point of view, in hopes that they can expand themselves, because we are trapped in prisons of expectations, with walls of societal demand, bars of self-doubt, and guards of the sleeping servants of the great dream. I will elaborate tomorrow in my philosophy post, but until then, just consider what I say.

Don't let fear or hate or selfishness trap you, because there is really so much more.

Enjoy.

A Matter of Clarification.

This blog will be maintained daily, and post can cover any topics of my interest. I promise scheduled weekly posts based on my favorite topics. Fridays will be Religion/Spirituality/Philosophy. Saturdays will be History/Politics/Sociology. Sundays will be media, i.e. something [usually a review] relating to media that I am interested in. Common topics will include video games, literature, and especially movies. Week day posts will pertain to whatever I feel like writing about at the moment, and if a specific topic deserves a dedicated day, then one of the remaining weekdays will be assigned to it. I've just enabled anonymous comments, so by all means, let me know what you think, I'll even take requests. I've already got this weekends topics nailed down, but I would more than appreciate some ideas for next weekend.

Goodnight all, and enjoy.

I Fucking Hate Dane Cook.

It's true.

And I am fully aware that every 1 in 3 people age 15-28, in solidarity with all their fucking su-fi family, will be mailing a series of explosives wrapped with stolen paper and filled with ridiculous fucking onstage seizures trying to convince me that I am wrong. But, despite the fact that I find his fans almost as annoying, I don't date them, they're just asleep, under the sway of an unkempt pseudo-man clothed in chic mallrat hollister knockoff surfing T-shirts. [Side note: To every Hollister/American eagle/etc surf/beach/etc clothing fans born/living in any areas more than 500 miles from an ocean, fuck the fuck off. If the city you live in dips lower than 50 degrees in winter, and you're wearing a shirt about some kind of fucking tiki bash, you're going to hell. You're not from the fucking beach, you can't surf, and I don't care how fucking cool the OC is, you're from the midwest, and everybody fucking knows it. Die in shitty overpriced ubermerchandise-fueled fire, and take you're shitty pop culture icons with you.]

Dane Cook is a no-talent hack. And I know, he's crazy popular and successful, but guess the fuck what? I could be successful and popular too if I stole other comedian's material and acted like a tool. Thin I'm wrong? Do a bit of research, Cook is a useless, silly motherfucker. I'd suggest starting with wikipedia, or, hell, a fucking google search. That's all that really needs to be said.

If you're a fan, and wish to graduate to legitimate comedy, I'd suggest Daniel Tosh for the same kind of comedy, or if you'd like even more than the small box that Cook has built for you, try Mitch Hedberg, Jim Gaffigan, Bill Hicks, Patton Oswalt, or, for that matter, damn near anybody else, minus a few exceptions.

It's Been Too Long.

Certain factors have deterred me from regular posting; this problem has been corrected. I'm hoping to develop [or renew] some regular readers, so if you're one of the 6 people reading this, and think someone will enjoy my blend of rage and muddled logic, please, pass this blog around.

Things that have changed/occurred:
>Gave up programming a while ago. What a fucking chore for so little enjoyment.
>Renewed my love in video games, movies, and books.
>I worked a shitton of hours at Borders. It was bad at first, but I got used to it.
>Broke down a few times for various reasons.
>I dig psychology, but I'm not thinking it's the right path for me.
>I've gotten back into history, mythology, religion, and I'm loving it.
>I'm thinking of becoming a private investigator, or a postman. Just things to think about.
>I've got a few great ideas, and I really want to get into screenwriting.
>I've largely disconnected from the world, I just couldn't take it anymore.
>I started looking into Zen, and I loved it in every way possible.
>I consider myself a Buddhist, although my personal methods differ slightly from standard Zen Buddhism.
>I'm still not happy, but I don't care anymore. I enjoy what I can, and endure what I can't.

With the spirit of the new year in mind, some resolutions for not the new year, but for as long as they serve me:

>Continue on the path of Zen. It's perfect for me.
>Meditate nightly.
>Honor my true self, always respecting who I truly am.
>Be courageous always, live without fear, in order to experience all the life that I've been gifted with.
>Show compassion to absolutely everything; love every single things, as all things existing are extensions of the same orb of life.
>Write for at least 30 minutes each night.
>Learn everything that I want to learn
>Fight, until the everlasting victory.

That's what I have for now. Happy new year.