The Son Also Rises

The Appropriation of Culture

2011-02-28T21:22:00.002-06:00

This story is brilliant. Daniel understands that responded to racism with anger does nothing to solve the problem in the long run. Despite being young, Daniel demonstrates great wisdom by resisting that urge to become angry. He takes symbols of racism and embraces them. With that embrace, Daniel changes the definition of the symbols. He recognizes his heritage, and decides that arbitrary meanings of things are just that—arbitrary. By rerapproiating a symbol of one culture and making it apart of his own, Daniel subtly influences the racist tendancies of the white people around him. This subtleness should not make one underestimate Daniel's reach, as his actions made a difference not only in the minds of people he directly interacted with, but also at the state level where the confederate flag that was flown has been taken down permanently.

Araby

2011-02-23T23:10:00.002-06:00

The young man, knowing little of love, declares that he will bring Mangan's sister something from the bazaar. I don't think he knows why he's doing this, other than mimicking other men in how they court women. The young man's vision of love is exaggerated, muddled about until it resembles some ideal concept. I like that, when he finally comes to terms with that fact, he becomes a cynic. This idea that becoming aware of reality and how dull it is compared to the imagination (a muddled sense of the ideal, in this case) is something I identify with at times. One could say the young man experiences a loss of innocence, but I believe it is more the loss of naivety. He understands raw, emotionless sexuality to debase love. But in his world, lust is far more common than his vision of love, a vision of passionate commitment—it is no surprise that he becomes bitter.

Tapka

2011-02-22T10:40:00.000-06:00

Mark is remarkably articulate for a six year old child. I suppose I feel that, if one is to use child characters, those characters should think and behave like children. Mark certainly behaves like a child, and his actions show that he somtimes thinks like a child, but the story is never believably narrated by a child. mark doesn't fit in at school. Mark doesn't have friends. These things, while they can easily be cliche, are scarcely mentioned in this story--I thought it could use more of that characterization. Ultimately, Mark did nothing that made me care about him. For that matter, the only character I felt anything for was the mother. She cared nothing for Tapka, and thought the Nahumovskys were foolish to love an animal so much. But despite these feelings, out of some sort of obligation (cultural solidarity), she does her best to translate for her Russian companions. Even when she, as most mothers do, is sick with worry over her missing son, she manages to interpret for the doctor. The mother puts her personal agendas aside and acts for the betterment of the community, something I admire.

The Lady with the Dog (for Forms of Fiction)

2011-01-25T01:59:00.002-06:00

I've never read anything written by a Russian that didn't contain a character who espoused to the opinion that women were a lesser species than men. That isn't to say that I believe Chekhov felt or didn't feel this way (because honestly, who cares), but that it is a very Russian characterization. Chekhov's brevity is of course, as delightful as it always is. He uses language sparingly, as if not to waste it. This style contrasts his protagonist appropriately, who at the end of the story feels he has wasted his life with affairs with women. He is allegedly remorseful for the things he has done (personally, I don't buy it), and yet finds a young, naive girl to fall in love with. Their respective marriages matter little, as they both view them as "intolerable bonds." I detest both characters.

A Good Man is Hard to Find (for Forms of Fiction)

2011-01-18T02:30:00.003-06:00

First of all, Flannery O'Conner is incredibly Catholic. She is perhaps, the most Catholic author I have ever read. This grandmother character strikes me in two ways. The first, she appears incredibly selfish. She manipulates others, and when that fails she is outright demanding. To her, appearance is everything, as she dresses like "a lady" and is embarrassed by the actions of the children. When threatened by murderers (in a situation which is ultimately her fault), she insists on identifying the one man as "The Misfit" as if to justify her apprehension concerning him seen at the beginning of the story. It is this assertion, that results in her and her familys' death. It is worth noting, that even as her son and grandchildren are killed, the grandmother remains solely concerned with herself.

However, I think the grandmother was not always this self centered, or at least not this manipulative. Her family is shown largely ignoring her requests and remarks, instead insisting on their own plans. This situation may have encouraged the grandmother to more finely develop her ability to manipulate, as it is her only means of asserting herself. The children too, are largely ignored by the parents. As they too are a rejected party, the grandmother tends to be the one to interact with them by either helping them pass the time or reprimanding them. The apathy, and inaction, of the parents continues until their deaths, but the grandmother passionately vies for her life—even by physically connecting with her killer.

I've moved

2010-09-21T16:46:00.001-05:00

I just wanted to post this link: http://brandondahlberg.tumblr.com/

I've moved all my blogging and such to here, so if you're on tumblr let me know!

More, mostly older, writings.

2009-12-20T05:13:00.002-06:00

23. Meetings

I met her in a coffee shop
she wore a blue shirt.
She told me of equations
and listened to my boring words.

She knows a friend of mine
from a long time ago
he and I no longer speak
because of what he stole.

The man comes in and asks
if we are both well paid.
She smiles at him blankly--
I let go of plans well laid.

I met her in a coffee shop
she wore a blue shirt.
She walked quickly to her car
as I wrote these boring words.

24. Dial tone

Sitting and waiting
for the phone to ring
by my bedside
three times and I’ll answer;
I hope you’re wearing something nice
to the funeral.

We placed a bell
beside the headstone
string to casket
three times and we’ll know
that we gave you up too soon
—the bell never rings.

Sitting and waiting
for the peaks on the machine
to become plains
three times they’ll try;
I hope you’ll dress me nicely
for the funeral.

25. Up All Night

so tired.
salt between my temples.
dancing fingers striking ivory
singing eyes shut
wide shut.

shut in my room.
so stale.
what is that disgusting smell
between these sheets.
so stale.

stale water.
trickling down my chest
from the head in the wall
a shave and comb.
but still my eyes are made of lead.

26. The Youth at Play

Lines in the sand
mark the young boys space:
shells atop sandcastles with a
small flag waving in the breeze—
ocean spray curling his hair.
Army men on crumbling towers,
tossed in the wind and the mist
that rolls off choppy waves.
Trenches moist with retreating foam
leaving behind brave souls;
a scuttling crab and jellyfish
both white as the moon
—the casualties of war.

27. Ticking

He held the earth in hand
dirt under fingernails
knowing one day
dirt would be ash.

Water washing creviced grime
circling the drain (as they say)
he knew that they were losing.

He held what is left in hand
coarse sand in a palm’s creases
if only there lacked idleness
if only there were time.

31. Reverberation

Another late night--
pot of coffee and pack of smokes
in a city of a million and one
(plus or minus, give or take)
though I know none.

No one to wander
to drink with, or play my hand
this city is so empty
despite the crowds, the traffic
not a friend in sight.

Like sitting in the opera hall
center section, row twelve
the show is starting
curtains speeding open
at the drop of a pin.

echo. echo. echo.

32. Carrier Pigeons

My lady and I
we used to go to parks
to feed the pigeons.

Some are fat
some are quick
but always bobbing--
always on the move.

My lady and I
we used to see each other
till she flew away.

Now I’m waiting
for the day
when she hones in--
traveling towards home.

38. Sleeping Habits

I lie awake at night shuffling
from this side to that side (east and west)
coming to rest in the more slept in
where the bed has deepened
from extended use.

As much as I desire evenness
I can never fill its entirety
rolling again from one to the other
half still smelling so familiar
the other foreign.

And I remember when our bed was even
on this side and that side (east and west)
from the weight of our two bodies
limbs entangled on most nights
lying very still.

Now this place that we used to share
in so many more ways than the one
is too large for my tiny frame
as I come to rest on the one side
away from you.

39. Misdirection

The line was short, for my daily drug.
I turned, seeing you at a distance
your features blurred by my tired eyes.
Mistaken. I saw you now the stranger.

How could you be here and there similarly—
such distance is not crossed so easily.
But exhaustion lifts reality’s veil
and for a moment, I imagine we’re together.

Again today, I saw you walking away
at night, under glow of street lamps.
Again my eyes deceived my heart
though the disappointment was expected.

40. Caterpillars

Leaves will fall of trees in autumn
forming piles between the roots
shooting deep into the ground
splitting off here and there
among the worms
tunneling upward
forming monolithic
labyrinths
to the ant and the aphid
and the crawlers like ourselves.
Though freedom may lay below us
our desire is high above
climbing ever upward
in search of wings.

Back to School (as if I could come up with something more creative)

2009-08-31T10:26:00.002-05:00

Classes started back today, so far so good. I have my father's college Physics teacher, which is pretty awesome. Now I've got an hour to kill till Oral Comm--a class which should be boringly simple. I really dislike having so much time in between my morning courses, I mean, what is there to really do except spend money on coffee and blog/twitter/facebook. Well I guess its not much different than what I'd be doing at home, and this way I get to feel all intelligent by being at a University instead of lazying around my house. Saw several people today, wish they too had nothing to do. C'est la vie. Note to self: bring a book to read tomorrow. I think I'll go sit on the grass in the sun instead of the little patio outside the bookstore cafè.

2009-07-05T22:45:00.002-05:00

14. Dinosaurs

Some day soon we’ll run out of oil
seeing foolishness for what it is.
The dinosaurs will tell us
that is wasn’t their fault--
they couldn’t have seen it coming.

And when they go home to face themselves
they will say into the mirror
“All those nutters
who tried to change things
......they were right all along.”

15. Married Life

You slipped your fingers
between the buttons of my vest--
that ring looks perfect on you,
right at home.

I then stepped over
the threshold of our new house
moving so quickly through,
that we forgot.

We never took a breath
or learned to see the flowers
measuring moments lost
in coffee cups.

16. Footprints

Footprints in the sand
showing you the way
to the boat across the sea.
--though the tide will wash
away the path before
you get there.

17. Road Trip

I drive along the road.
alone.
no radio.
no company.

A small town approaching.
stop.
no signs.
no satisfaction.

I drive along the road.
alone.
no radio.
no company.

18. A Home

Sitting on the stone
wondering about
the long way home
you begin to see
you were there all along.
19. Days

Passing days
lend themselves
to repetition.
repetition.
repetition.

People who
repeat themselves
play a part.
a part.
apart.

People who
repeat themselves
do not see.
do not see.
do not see.

Passing days
may lend themselves
to discrepancy.
anomaly.
discrepancy.

20. Fireflies

The fireflies will color the night
tiny Christmas lights in the air
and the soft fluttering of wings.

We kissed between the fireflies
eyes sparkling with specks of green
and the soft pattering of our hearts.

And all the birds in the trees will see
the way our fingers find each other’s
and the soft glow of the fireflies.

21. Bees

busy
busy like bees
buzzing
here to there
underground
in the sky
always moving
always buzzing
never sleeping
New York, New York
poor New York.

untitled again

2009-06-27T03:30:00.006-05:00

6. The City

Every hour of every day
he thought of moving to the City.
Every hour of every day
he realized he could not.

When the new king came
he knew he had his chance
to see the buildings touch the sky.

Every hour of that day
he rode a train through the country side.
Every hour of that day
was one hour closer to the City.

But when the train stopped
and everyone left the station
he felt as though he were mistaken.

Every hour for the rest of the year
he learned to hate the City.
Every hour for the rest of the year
he longed to see the ocean.

7. Trees

The birds wont sing in the winter days
--they flew from here some time ago.

But the trees will fill the silent nights
--their songs are low and long and sad.

They say their names and “how d’you do”
--and speak of their long lost cousins.

Our ears are closed to their old wise songs
--if we would only listen to the trees.

8. Solitaire

dropped gaze, long night
never will it fade
for all the memories long since passed
for all the memories I cry

jealous heart, and half gone day

if only you knew
if only you knew

arm outstretched, finger poised
now no more thievery in this place
though it would never be withheld
grasping hands find only space

sun is setting, a sleepless night

grimaced face
grimaced face

feel it pulsing
luminescent
swan song glowing
love’s last breath

full of longing, unrequited

memory no more
memory no more

lacking time, don’t leave
turn round-see damage done
missing pieces, broken lines
see damage done

sigh and smile, one last kiss

Jacob dies tonight
Jacob dies tonight

9. More Dreams

The boy looked out his window
longing to see the trees and clouds
instead of factories.

Long ago the woods were purged
to satisfy man’s fat and greedy fingers
gorged on paper.

The boy returned from work today
gaunt hands covered in grease and ash
dreams long gone.

10. Reach

Once I knew a girl
who climbed up in a tree
she tried to touch the sky
but only found the leaves.

11. Ben and Alice

Ben was seventeen
when the Coopers moved in next door
Alice was unpacking
when Ben first noticed her.

Ben was twenty seven
when that Cooper became a Worth
Alice was still smiling
when Ben said those sacred words.

Ben was seventy seven
when his Alice was given to the earth
Alice was there lying
though he thought she took a breath.

12. The Fallacy of Artwork

He brought the box up to his eyes
a click
he wondered why he does it
this day and that day
(perhaps another)
pressing on to print
because it always looks like trash

His teacher always told him
to view the world differently
than the others in his life
they come and they go
merely passing through
but he lingers to see what they miss
permanence

He brought the box up to his eyes
no click
no moving on
there he stood to wonder
he stands and he stands
(and sits for awhile)
but he doesn’t see the meaning

13. Steps

Lost in the woods
without a path present
limb and leaf rustling around

the others will stand
as one in the clearing
warm and safe together

the woods are dark
the others will say
“turn back to us.”

but he longed to see
like Michaelangelo--
seeing images in stone

untitled

2009-06-24T15:21:00.001-05:00

1. Distance

Remember!
The days of hand holding
we would run through misty fields
together.

nothing would come between-
happiness. ecstatic to be one.
and now?

Remember!
The tea we slowly sipped
we sat on the empty terrace
life.

cities that are furthest from-
distant. used to the empty chair.
longing.

Remember!
The vow we made that night
together we would live forever
forever.

2. Glass

Harold saw the ocean for the first time today
from left to right there was only the sea
Harold saw the ocean for exactly what it was
downward, a window to the earth.

and the earth was sad.

3. Progression

A year ago today we found a bird’s nest
and knew we would build a home together
when the time was right

A year ago today we lived together
and thought it would always be this way
but we knew better

A year ago today we made a change
and our life together remained steady
the change didn’t stop

A year ago today you moved away
and we saw each other once a month
longing for what we had

4. Dreams

Once I dreamt I was a leaf
falling from limb to land
to be trodden on by
man and beast alike--
until no more.

Had I only been a bird!

5. The Son Also Rises

My father called today
we spoke of this and that--
small talk.

My father said on the phone
“What will you become--
without me?”

My father heard what I had done
and strung together words--
stinging words.

My father thought to himself
that I would no longer follow
him blindly.

My father said on the phone
“Son I have risen up and away to
be great!”

but my father knew in his heart today
that the son also rises.

maybe next time

2009-06-04T08:39:00.002-05:00

Awesome bit of hiking trip, did some great bouldering and didn't die--thus, success. Started writing another short story (never told anyone that I started the first one, so know that I did and that it is weirdly formatted). Number two is a bit less Vonnegut in format. Took apart a light bulb, put something inside it, and now working on putting it back together. Dremels are great at dismantling but terrible at reassembling. Anyway, when I do get it right, it'll be quite possible the best photo I've ever taken (at least from my point of view. I'll of course publish it on here and everywhere else I publish photos for that matter.

The new Death Cab for Cutie EP isn't as awesome as I had hoped, but its not really bad, that is to say, I enjoy listening to it. Bought the title album of Other Lives and its actually really good.

I got a Keffiyeh type garment the other day, more of a scarf than a square, but cool none the less. I've already gotten a lot of strange looks wearing it around town--I hope I've been branded a supporter of terrorism, if nothing else then to prove the ignorance of so many Americans.

Hoping to meet Shamuel Shansky later tonight. Dunno what, if anything, after that. Maybe some time in the park. All my classes are registered, hurrah.

Can't think of anything else to say.

Title Shmitle (shmitle sounds Jewish)

2009-05-10T14:58:00.002-05:00

Mother's Day is silly. We don't need to give card companies a lot of money to appreciate our mothers, I think we can, and should, do that all the time. But if you're too lazy to do that, don't go to Hallmark and buy a card--make one instead. Show those corporate big wigs who's boss by not paying them exuberant amounts of your likely not very hard earned money (not because you don't work, but because no one can get jobs anymore).

In other thoughts, Star Trek is the best movie I've seen this year. Seeing it a third time tomorrow, and I would encourage the very few of you who may glance at my blog to go see it as soon as you get the chance.

Even though its not the most expensive top of the line mountain bike, my Trek 3700 rocks the rocks. And the dirt. And just about everything else it rides on. I'm enjoying being athletic by being outdoorsy, its a "sport" I'm actually good at (lawl).

Last night, a lot of the band alums that went to the concert ate dinner at Huey's, and lemme say, it was awesome hanging with everybody again. I hope I wasn't too loud and obnoxious, but I probably was.

Enjoy it while it lasts people, because soon the zombies/Cylons/Skynet will be here and we'll be fighting for our lives.

Hurbis

2009-05-06T18:45:00.003-05:00

First year of college is over, neat.

Doing a couple of photo jobs for someone, so at least that's making a little money. I would really love a job.

I've been feeling sad today, maybe its just the weather. I really have no reason to be sad, I guess sometimes that just happens...maybe its because the Scrubs finale is tonight.

Or because my grades will likely be sub par. So much for being intelligent. Or maybe I'm just bad at school. Either way I'm sure my folks will be thrilled that the scholarship is out the window and full tuition just stepped in. I was arrogantly confident that I'd be fine at the beginning of the semester...so much for that. My father was happy that I had high goals, but my mother didn't want me to let myself down when I didn't achieve them. Interesting. I really don't know what happened, I really felt good about everything. At least its over. Three more years. Wonderful. Rumor I keep hearing is that I should enjoy college while it lasts. If things are worse than they are now, I think I'll just run away. Self pity off.

Ordered my bike, should be here in under a week. I hope that it will be a nice athletic distraction.

I miss my friends. I really miss my friends.

Biking

2009-04-30T17:07:00.003-05:00

I'm saving money for a mountain bike. Its been a long long time since I've ridden off road, and I'm really itching to do so again. Kinda like I'm itching to backwoods backpack survival camping. Hmmmmm bike backpacking? That'd be interesting.

Trek 3700

Thats my future baby! Ideally in that color, though I haven't seen a 21 incher like that in the shops yet, I imagine they can order one.

Anyone else into off road biking?

Lately Happenings

2009-04-10T10:52:00.003-05:00

New toys! The first is a CRKT M16-13Z desert military model. Hands down best folding knife I've ever owned. The second is a set of the four most basic locks picks and a tension wrench...because I couldn't get in enough trouble without them. The third is a Gerber Paraframe II for Shannon (cause I have the CRKT), which has some tension problems that I'm working on. And if I cant fix those then my dremel can. Though it kinda irritates me, I shouldn't have to do any work on a knife made by a decent company, but sometimes you just get a fluke. Its the first time I've ever had a problem with Gerber products. I also recently acquired a .45 that has been turned into a necklace pendant, and a military-esque star of David.

By the way, a dremel is one of the best things I've ever spent money on. Its the coolest power tool ever invented. Easily.

Two days in a row Bobby has given me free coffee. And I've tipped the price of the coffee. Maybe thats why its free.......

I have major camping fever. I'm probably gonna just go by myself, I really don't know of anyone that would want to come along (if you want to come along, let me know). I dunno, I've been really bummed lately, especially about the monotony of school. I think spending some time in the field would be refreshing, alone or not.

I have a research paper due tomorrow, 5 to 7 pages. So far it really resembles my paper from senior year....................

Direction

2009-03-13T01:13:00.005-05:00

I've been doing some thinking, well a lot of thinking, and I believe I shall join the Marine Corps. Its something that interests me, it would increase my badass points, I'd get to play with some somewhat nice guns (I'm not a huge fan of the M9, or any 9mm pistol for that matter. As Mack says: "Go hard or go home, we didn't come here to hurt people's feelings." And as far as 5.56 platforms go, there are better choices than the M16/M4, however those are fine weapons. I just prefer an HK 416 or an FN SCAR). So here's what would happen:

Recruit Training (boot camp) for 12 weeks
School of Infantry for 29 days
Officer Candidate School for 10 weeks
MOS training for however long

then all that is over with and I've got a four year commitment to fulfill.

A Discovery!

2009-02-25T15:45:00.001-06:00

I am now an ordained minister. You may now refer to me as the Reverend Brandon Dahlberg.

Rumble Bee

2009-02-23T21:59:00.002-06:00

Life isn't fair. The Universe doesn't play the part of magnanimous equalizer. Bad things will happen to you. You think you're special? That you're the only one with "baggage?" Goodness, get some perspective.

Brief complaint over.

I have a test in the morning, I hope I do well on it. The 8-Ball said it was uncertain, that cannot be a good sign. The Terminator movies told me that there is no fate but that which we make for ourselves. I'm not a time traveler though, so I'm kinda locked into this linear train of experience. Last time I was on a train was in France, unless Subways count as trains. I had a sub sandwich today, pity I was too full to eat all of it. I'm fairly full now, as I just ate three cookies...these cookies are as addictive as crack (I've never tried it). I wonder how many .45 rounds it takes to bring a crackhead down. Eight in the mag, one in the pipe, hammer back safety off 4.5 pounds of pressure between you and certain annihilation at the hands of John Moses Browning's gift to humanity. boom boom boom. Head shots only, that's what Mac said. Sometimes I think most people's brains are like traffic intersections. But my brain is more like a traffic circle. Intersection brains regulate ideas and thought flow and keep everything ordered. Traffic circle brains are confusing, with ideas getting randomly on and off--very chaotic. I bet a lot of people don't think in a very organized method like that. I don't like to make bets. I imagine its really difficult to rob a casino. My eyes are burning with exhaustion. Or demon possession. If my head starts spinning around, someone better be here to film it. I would really really really really really love to have a vocoder, oh the joyful sounds I would produce. I'd like some Israeli rap.

2009-02-22T13:55:00.006-06:00

Things That Are Surreal

2009-02-10T23:06:00.003-06:00

Alarm Clocks
Opera Glasses
Fedoras
Bowler Hats
Suits
Ants
Canoes
Teeth
Old Buildings
White Sheets
Violins
Umbrellas
Apples
Fish
Butterflies
Eggs
Clouds
Trains
Large Cats
Some Birds
Skulls
Pipes
Revolvers
Dali's Mustache
Benjamin Button

any combination of the above

The Way You Shift Your Eyes

2009-02-10T11:44:00.003-06:00

Andrew Bird is where its at, in case you were wondering.

When Socrates could have escaped from prison, thus saving his life, he instead chose to do philosophy with his would be savior.

Can't get the midrash confused with the mishnah.

How cool is Heroes this season (Sylar has a padawan leanrer!)?

I saw a new McDonalds commercial that made me laugh.

This kid's converse are old but still look new, how do you do that?

The girl behind me hates working in retail.

Test today.

Test next week.

I need things with lenses (binoculars, telescopes, whatever). Got a big photo idea.

Michaelantonio and I want to start a dance/industrial/techno duo that wears venetian carnival masks.

2009-01-27T11:32:00.006-06:00

Absurdities

2009-01-19T02:59:00.004-06:00

I started this blog because I wanted a place where I could say whatever I wanted to say without fear or someone with whom I did not feel comfortable (passive voice, I know) reading my words. I wanted a place where I could express what I really thought; I didn't want to play a part anymore. People think I say whatever is on my mind regardless of who I say it to, but really I hold myself back most of the time. I do wish things weren't that way, but I'm afraid that at this point in time there is nothing I can do to change them. I'm more like him than I want to admit, though several months ago I would have reveled in that connection. My name is attached to this place; anyone looking for me can find it, and that is something that makes me feel a little uncomfortable--damages my calm, if you will. Trust no one, right? But on the other side, the people who I do want here, the people that I prefer see the words--they need to know its me: thus my dilemma. To be in a different place, with different faces--different voices, what must that be like? I cannot imagine how liberating it would be: like the deep breath one takes when waking up in the morning. I wonder if that moment will come, or rather, how soon will it be until it does come. I'm not as patient as I want to be, though I suppose I'm as patient as I need to be (after all, what choice is there). Awhile ago, I took a chance on stating what was on my mind and wrote up a little post about freedom. An anonymous reader selectively called me out on it giving poor examples as to why I was wrong to think as I did. They then proceeded to give me the ole' religious run around which, I admit, riled me up a bit. However, this led me to do some thinking on the subjects I discussed. From self deception, religion, and everything in between, can an individual ever be liberated? I can say that I'm free as much as I want, but does that make it true? A holy text can proclaim its road to that very same freedom as much as it wants, but does that make it true? It surely isn't true just because it claims to be true, that's a pathetic argument. Actually, it isn't an argument at all. Perceptive reaction is all people need to feel like something is true, but what of knowledge? What of empirical evidence? What of fact? Is any necessary? Is it true just because I/we/you/God says its true? Its easy for me to dismiss the things which I feel are meaningless--to sort through options and say no to this and that. Its not so easy to settle on something and run with it (other than my instinct). People say "have faith!" but nothing turns me away more quickly. Faith is easy. Faith is laziness. Faith is refusing to seek answers to questions by settling for an unquantifiable but undeniable choice. Faith cant be argued, especially when a religion uses it as one of its main pillars. I'm not suggesting that faith is an incorrect conclusion, but that it is wrong to immediately jump to that conclusion before exploring all the options. And Truth? Truth is UFOs as much as it is The Bible. Truth is whatever you choose to believe in. I know, I know--everyone wants to hog all the attention by saying their way is the only way. But a text cannot use its self to prove its self. Anyone/anything can claim "this is true because I say it is," but that alone shouldn't convince anyone. But maybe that's just me. Maybe I put my faith in evidence more than I should. Kierkegaard suggests that evidence only takes someone so far, that at some point in order to believe in [a religion] one must take a leap of faith. I certainly agree. But I do not think faith is the answer to every question I have ever asked. For some people though, it is the answer to any query. To each their own I suppose. We do what we have to that we might get through the day.

All of that silly rant just because someone left that comment way back when. The moral of this story is: don't evangelize to me. Don't attempt to save me from miserable misery-ridden eternally eternal condemnation to fiery fires of a hellish hell. Don't tell me what you believe in order to cleverly contrast it with anything I said--go write your own blog post on your own blog (they're free, anyone can have one). And don't pull one of those "I know you said not to do this, but I really really wanna say it..." I'm taking an arrogant leap here by assuming that, most likely, no one who reads this will be able to provide me with anything more than irritation and eye rolls. I'm not looking for your answers. I'm not looking for your faithful examples. I'm looking for whatever it is I'm looking for and I'll know it when I see it. Which means I'll know what it isn't when I see it too. And what it isn't is annoying anonymous comments flaunting Biblical clichès, unquantifiable absolutism, moral ambiguities, spiritual minimalism, and any other idea that I can read on a pamphlet left on top of a urinal in a truck stop. Knock on someone eles's door; mine is shut until I open it. As a certain Mr. Baggins would say "No thank you! We don't want any more visitors, well wishers, or distant relations!" As far as very old friends go, no offense, but none of you are very old.

2009-01-18T15:32:00.007-06:00

Too many winters

2009-01-18T04:09:00.004-06:00

Wow, Dualla shot herself in the head. I didn't see that coming. And then Adama tried to get Tigh to shoot him? The fleet is going crazy! And guess what, you and I are Cylons!

Best of luck to my old friend in the North with his new venture. May he be successful in these terribly turbulent times. <---[Alliteration]

I have a rhynovirus. Go get your own.

You know what would be cool to own? A moon globe. And a mars globe, if someone makes those. I wanna go golfing.

10% of nothing is nothing.

Obama is a Cylon. But then again, everyone is a Cylon (as I previously stated).

Current Supplies: two cans of pepsi, one cup of ground espresso, on quart of milk, one slice of key lime pie, one bag of dark chocolate, on box of chunky chocolate chip cookies, one half of a brick of cheese, two bagels, one half jar of peanut butter, one box of cereal, one extra large can of cashews, one pitcher of sweet tea, three dirty dishes.

I felt like it was time for my tooth to return to some of my more recent photos, so there it be! Welcome back tooth, welcome back.

Recollection is tenuous. Though it is an exercise that must be done.

Who am I Gamling?

2009-01-12T05:21:00.005-06:00

Firsts of 2009

2009-01-12T04:53:00.004-06:00

-First Experiences-
First time being pulled over.
First mandatory court appearance.
First time being sworn at by a customer.
First time being hit on by a pregnant girl.
First time being scammed (at work).
First college transfer.
First semester at U of M.
First desire for power tools.

-First Stuffs-
First Movie in theaters: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (*****)
First Movie stolen from China: Che Part One (*****)
First DVD: Iron Man (****_)
First Album: Keep Color, The Republic Tigers (****_)
First Single: Enjoy the Silence, Pat MacDonald [Depeche Mode cover] (***__)
First Book: Art and Physics, by Leonard Shalin (****_)
First Celebrity Crush of the year: Bryce Dallas Howard [Christina Hendricks a very close second] (∞)
First Man Crush of the year: Viggo Mortensen (*****)
First Purchase: coffee at CK's (***__)

-First Photos-
'bout to upload them

Tradition

2008-12-31T23:59:00.001-06:00

Its my annual New Years eve post, and yes I'm wearing my best suit. Don't know what to say this year, I've grown as much as anyone does in a year, experienced as much as anyone does in a year: maybe more maybe less. But, it is a new year nonetheless. Three hundred and sixty-five new days of new experiences (or repetitions). Should be interesting, if nothing else. I've only got 21% battery left (internet was being finicky at my house so I'm sitting in the Highpoint parking lot). Do I reflect on the time thats passed? Whats the point in re-reading this story, it was just like any other (except different). Things happened: good things, bad things, exciting things, depressing things, a whole lot of things. And things will always happen. And the world spins on. Is there anything I would change? Not really. Do I have any resolutions? Not really. Do I have high expectations? I try not expect things--that way I'm nearly always surprised (sort of). Or maybe I just expect the worst--when it happens I'm prepared for it and when it doesn't I'm pleasantly surprised. Doesn't matter. I see a cat walking by outside. Meow. 12%. Two ambulances just screamed passed; wonder whats happened. I'm hungry. 'Bout that time ey chap? ¡Patria o muerte! So this is the new year, anything could happen. Lets find out...tally ho!

dreams

2008-12-30T02:57:00.000-06:00

"And here I dreamt I was a soldier.
And I marched the streets of Birkenau.
And I recall in spring
the perfume that the air would bring
to the indolent town.
Where the barkers call the moon down,
the carnival was ringing loudly now.
And just to lay with you
there's nothing that I wouldn't do
...save lay my rifle down."
-The Decemberists

Coming Soon

2008-12-23T17:41:00.003-06:00

nothin-but-the-rain.blogspot.com

Coming soon to rock your world.

Age of Industry

2008-12-20T11:03:00.003-06:00

Working this past summer, I wrote "the more repetitious your life is, the more you notice inconsistency." I don't really know that I know what that means, but it does sound kinda cool. I think of this because I'm working at the gas station again, my shifts being changed from eight hours to ten hours, and I really don't know what to think. I like the money, I hate the job--do they balance each other out though? If anything, this experience teaches me to make sure I get employed doing something that, if nothing else, I care about. I couldn't do something I hate for the rest of my life, regardless of money. This raises the question, what would I enjoy doing for the rest of my life? In the mean time, I suppose I'll just keep telling myself that changing all my shifts to ten hours means that I'll get an extra $150 or so, that's kinda nice. And as long as I only work three days out of the week, it isn't unbearable at all. I cant decide which was worse, ten hours of gas station or ten hour Wednesdays during school. At least at school we were doing some semblance of artwork. But at the gas station, I do have maybe a collective thirty minutes where I can read...

Enough of that. Time for food. I should have been a watch maker.

I think, in the style of one MJG, I shall begin work on a zine that may segue into a photo/art/poem/essay/random things I've done book. I'm thinking the zine(s) will have their own section in a portion of the book as one more way in which to convey ideas. All for now, goodbye.

2008-12-16T10:53:00.003-06:00

Osterman

2008-12-16T09:16:00.005-06:00

The photograph is in my hand...

It is 2008, December. Outdoors everything is right for the years snow, but it will not snow. It never snows. My room is warm. The keys click away at my finger tips while someone plucks at a guitar. I have just taken photographs which I will upload here later.

It is four hours ago, I wonder why I have woken up so early. I get coffee. I talk to my parents before they leave for work, they tell me there is no ice on the streets, and that life will continue as it normally does. Hammers gracefully hit strings and I close my eyes.

The photograph is in my hand...

It is 2008, May. Everyone is standing, laughing. We all wear blue. In fifty three minutes we will walk across a stage and shake hands. This event is the end of a chapter, the invitation to turn the page and see what happens next. But there are no words on the next page; they haven't been written yet.

It is 1993, October. I am a child running along the beach. I wear shoes on the beach because I have not come to appreciate the feeling of sand between my toes. In 2004 I will remember these times as I watch the sun rise on the West African coast. For now, I pick up sand dollars and avoid stepping on jelly fish. The furthest into the future I've thought is when I hope that I'll have a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch.

The photograph is in my hand...

It is 2003, July. I feel sick to my stomach as I try desperately to put it out of my mind. I am surrounded by paintings, beautiful paintings. The head of John the Baptist stares back at me, his hair is so real and the glint of the platter almost makes me squint. I forget my travelers sickness and breathe the Paris air. I climb the stairs in the largest traffic circle in the world, not realizing how much I wish I had my camera. At the top I see the city and smile.

It is 2006, December. Cigarette smoke fills the air as my friend lights another one. He and I sit together and drink coffee and discuss politics, religion, and women. I cough and asks for a refill. A man enters and joins them, new to their weekly meetings. He enjoys the conversation and will be back each week till the three become too busy for each other. Each of them regret this change in their own way.

It is 2004, July. I sit on a park bench, the air is cool and crisp. I drink hot chocolate and eat a bagel. In the distance cyclists pedal down the street. I have left the group I was in with my mother as we wait to go into the museum. In several hours we will panic as our flight comes closer to taking off while we are stranded in the city. An hour after that we will run through the airport only to realize that the flight out of Amsterdam has been delayed due to a fuel leak. We wonder if our predicament saved the plane.

It is 2007, April. A group of people make a wish as they throw a coin over their shoulders just having eaten dinner in Downtown Disney. I look to my left and remark to my friend that this feels like Garden State. I would make some of my best memories over the next few days, but when returning home I would realize exactly how lonely I feel. In nineteen months I will realize how foolish I was.

The photograph is in my hand...it is 2007, March. The photograph was taken months ago, but I am just now seeing it for the first time. In it, a boy in a white suit puts his arm around a pretty girl in a green dress. He is taller than her and wears glasses. He doesn't realize the irony of the situation, but in nearly a year he will. He sighs and gives the photograph to her and wonders if they have any future together. They do.

It is 2001, September. America unites under the banner of tragedy as two young boys sit on a couch and attempt to understand what has happened. Twenty minutes ago I sat scared on a bus holding a Bible. Children shout names of countries as they try to make sense of big events using their limited political knowledge. I rationalize that I lives in a small population zone and am not at much risk. I wonder if I will ever go to war, in 2008 I ask myself the same question.

It is 2005, September. I have my heart broken. I feel I must talk to someone, so I go to my English teacher. Soon I will be challenged by many new ideas and eventually learn to think for myself. But this man whom I hold in such high regard will let me down--though I wont admit it to myself for the next three years till a late night conversation on a sidewalk leads me to realize my blindness.

The photograph is in my hand...

It is 2008, December. I warm and hungry, as he often is. In a minute I will get up and search for food then return to continue writing. Until I get up I will listen to Benjamin Gibbard melodically mix words and sounds to capture emotions and ideas. Eventually the desire for food will overwhelm me and he will get up only to discover that I have forgotten to call a friend. In thirty minutes I will go to the coffee shop alone.

It is 1999, October. I make my first C on a test, beginning a trend that will follow me throughout my educational career: the inability to do math. In twenty two minutes a boy will push me on the playground and not get in trouble. I will want to get back to my book and wish I could play with the stick near the swing set.

It is 1994, April. Children are putting rocks in a boys ear. I see this and am concerned, I try to get the rocks out of his ear. A teacher asks about what is happening, and the boys tell her I put the rocks there. The teacher doesn't believe me when I attempt to explain my innocence, and I am put in the sad book for the first and only time. This is when I learn that the world is not fair.

The photograph is in my hand...

It is 2008, August. I do laps in a pool as I try to ignore the attractive French girl who keeps shooting smiles at me. The Mexican sun is hot, but by now I'm used to it. It has been a long time since I've really swam. Later I walk the small town in search of a drink. The next day I will sit in a lawn chair at the bus stop, wearing my hat and drinking flavored tea. I will recall the adventures my mother and I have had, our hitch hiking and exploration of ruins and I will feel like a traveler.

The photograph is in my hand...

It is 1997, I cannot recall the month. I think it may be cold outside. We sit under a tent, as men in uniform take the flag off his casket and fold it into a triangle. Earlier, my cousins walked behind the men carrying his casket, I almost joined them but I was frightened. I didn't cry. Months later, something trivial upset me, and my mother angrily pointed out that this brought me to tears but my grandfather's death did not. I wish I had understood then what I understand now.

It has been one hour and twenty three minutes since I started writing. I sip my coffee and reflect, while I give credit to Alan Moore for his story telling style. I wonder what my future holds, which path of many I should I take. I see success in some and failure in others. I say to myself "I don't know what to do." I close my eyes and smile (Jacob glides by in the night) and press publish post.

2008-12-14T09:48:00.004-06:00

Cogs and Gears

2008-12-14T05:59:00.003-06:00

After one semester, I've realized that art school and I really aren't meant to be together (so it goes). This means that I'll be beginning next semester at the University of Memphis, but I do not know at this point in time what I will be studying. I have a lot of interests, but I haven't effectively sifted through those that should remain hobbies and those that could become careers. I'm very open to continuing the Photography major, I'm also considering a minor in Photography with a major in Journalism. Or maybe something like English? History? Anthropology? Philosophy? Criminology? In high school, I was so set on becoming a photographer, that I never thought about what I'd do if that weren't an option. And while I feel badly about leaving MCA, as it was something I worked towards for so long, I feel that it is better to leave a place that isn't right for you than to fight it out for three and a half more years. Though I am excited about having enough time outside of schoolwork to have a job; MCA didn't like to share.

As they say, tally ho! Life awaits...

Leaving MCA behind also means leaving my midtown apartment to return to my parents house. So I'll be living here for the next semester until there are affordable apartments available, hopefully when graduating students move out, at the end of this semester. That being said, the plan is for Gandrew and I to rent a place for the next few years.

I realize I haven't updated this blog in awhile, which is a shame because I really like its name. I hope to revitalize it in the coming days, months, weeks, years.

I'm kinda disappointed in the new Killers album, there are maybe two songs that I really enjoy, a couple others that are catchy enough to stop me from changing the track, but for the most part it is disappointing. On the other hand, I have been enjoying the mini EPs that The Decemberists have been releasing, I think we're up to seven songs. They're pretty cool.

And the anchor person on TV goes Ladedadeda...

Red Bull does not give you wings. Just thought I'd throw that out there. I'm really really hungry. You know, I find I often type those words when updating a blog or Facebook or something similar. I wonder if I were to blog more often, if I would eat more food, and therefore gain more weight. This is worth looking into, as I may have made some progress in my weight gain efforts, but I still have much to do. I like the new Pepsi font. It isn't Helvetica. I don't like Helvetica because I see it everywhere!

I would like to build a telegraph and electronic radio wave coder. I would also like to acquire a CB and a decent antenna.

Code in.

My Rules

2008-12-13T12:32:00.003-06:00

1. Follow all rules.
2. If there are any questions refer to Rule #1.
3. Trust no one.
4. Always take care of your own directions.
5. Never go anywhere without a knife.
6. Charge all batteries when items are not in use.
7. Never mess with my coffee.
8. Never assume you have enough money.
9. Always thank the barista.
10. Let the Wookie win.
11. Don't apologize unless you need to.
12. Make up your mind quickly.
13. Always know what you're talking about.
14. Carry more reloads than you'll ever need.
15. Always have gloves.
16. Be careful with whom you share your opinion.
17. There are people behind you in line.
18. Be precise when you lie.
19. Check, double check, and triple check.
20. Take nothing at face value.
21. Be wary of sour smells and dirty dishes.
22. Go with your gut.
23. There is no such thing as coincidence.
24. Do what you have to do.
25. Never mix black and brown.
26. Always check the weapon.
27. If you cannot remember, the claymore is pointed at you.
28. If you're winning, its a trap.
29. Its always a trap.
30. Don't surrender.
31. Pay no attention people like Ted.
32. Don't kill bees.

untitled

2008-09-08T03:52:00.002-05:00

Today I declare my freedom.

All summer I've been thinking much too much. I've wondered what I'm doing, what do I do that quantifies my existence. I wondered if an individual needs to prove his worth to the world, by what standard would I be judged? My own? Would that be good enough? Am I good enough? I am not God. I was dissatisfied with life. I had everything and nothing. I was pissed off at all the people around me, at western culture, at sicking consumerism, at everything not pure. And then I gave up. And I found freedom. So today, the day I turn 19 (a very meaningful number to me) you witness the declaration of my freedom from everything previously tying me down. Nothing is static. Everything is evolving. Everything is falling apart. We are all part of the same compost heap. Its only after disaster that we can be resurrected, its only after you've lost everything that you're free to do anything.

2008-01-16T21:07:00.000-06:00

2008-01-15T19:19:00.000-06:00

2008-01-14T20:02:00.001-06:00

2008-01-13T19:56:00.000-06:00

2008-01-12T13:41:00.000-06:00

2008-01-11T19:33:00.000-06:00

2008-01-10T21:11:00.000-06:00

I Believe

2008-01-09T20:41:00.000-06:00

That I will turn this blog into a daily photo blog, with the occasional writing (ranting) post.

sometimes

2008-01-04T23:39:00.001-06:00

sometimes I want to quit society all together
I want to pick up a heavy ax and go into the forrest in the mountains
and I want to chop down trees and build a cabin
and cut my own paths
and hunt my own food
and never have to worry about being governed again

sometimes when I see a slow train
I want to get out of my car and jump on
and ride it all night long and all day long
until I get to the harbor
then I want to get on a boat and hide
and see what far away land I'm taken to

sometimes I want to live in the large city
and ride the underground to work every morning
and be one of many people surrounding me
and experience the culture
and human nature
I'll learn more in ten minutes on a train than others in a lifetime

sometimes I want to wake up in Africa
and have no idea whats going on
and live on the beach and fish early in the morning
and walk to the market to sell my catch
then return home to watch the sun set
and love the simplicity of my life

sometimes I want to live in my coffee shop
and sell my artwork to those who come and go
I'd live off coffee beans and small pastries
and play soft music for all to enjoy
and watch the people sit quietly and read
and wonder what could have been

sometimes I wish my car were a boat
and that boat was in the sea
and I could sail around the world
I would search for beautiful moments
and for beautiful people
but sometimes I would miss the land

sometimes I wish that telephone booth were a time machine
and I could get in and see the universe
and I would know all of its secrets
I would see and help and share
maybe I would even be a hero to some
or just a good man

Wearing My Best Suit

2007-12-31T17:11:00.000-06:00

As is typical, I like many others will write a note concerning this year's conclusion. As is also typical of people who like to think they're different but really aren't, I will state that writing such notes is typical. At this point I'll direct your attention to the irony of the first two sentences, then realize it isn't as ironic as I'd like to think; which is actually quite ironic-at least to me. I believe I've now covered all my bases, to use a sports metaphor (which I loathe, by the way (sports metaphors I mean)).

So this is the new year, and I don't feel any different.

2007.

We kicked the year off with the conclusion of a serious relationship with my girlfriend, why not shake things up right of the bat (another sports metaphor!)? But that was okay because we remained friends and still are-I suppose that is the ideal breakup, those dreaded six words (I just want to be friends) realizing reality when they rarely do for anyone else. That doesn't take any of the sadness away however, but it does shift what is seen as sad and what isn't. Repetition my friends, repetition.

The next great fear of 2007: I passed Physics (taught by father even). Actually, I did more than pass, I made a B! Great success. That is also to say, I completed junior year.

Summertime was filled with relaxation, realization, and a reunion with a close friend. The latter is something I had needed for quite some time. But in the end, I lost those choice battles I needed to win to make the changes that really needed to happen, though in time I would make my come back (could be a sports metaphor?). Much coffee was consumed, and by the end of those two and a half months I was quite sure of what I intended to do while I linger.

I found freedom.

The school year began, and thus the end of what I've done most of my life began, though it is bound to begin again in different form. The school year taught me that all to be learned has been learned, and the path I chose already payed off those two years ago. Hard work is rarely rewarded, and unification is a myth that only sees light on rare occasion. Routine becomes tedious, the tedious becomes a prison, binding me to ritual and conformity. If I weren't so close to being done, I would quit it all in a heartbeat. There are others paths to success than those society has put in place for us, though it may not be the same cup of success society also measured out for all its residents. Success is relative, and therefore is given meaning on an individual basis. You will not define it for me, nor will you judge me based on my accomplishments though they will be more grand than I think any of you imagined. Though what is grand is also relative, and therefore only has merit from person to person. Celebrate individuality! We as students don't get that opportunity much anymore.

I also lost the game-which could've been the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I only wish that I could travel just by folding the map.

2008.

One journey comes to an end, while so many more could potentially begin. I will hold onto some hope of events turning out well for all those involved, though not enough to affect my freedom. So much could change. No, everything will change.

Though if all we have is here and now, then I wont change a thing. All I know is how I feel.

My Realization

2007-12-27T01:43:00.000-06:00

Today's apprehension was well deserved.

Still gotta try. Still gotta roll the hard six.

That is all.

माय अप्प्रेहेंसिओं

2007-12-26T21:31:00.000-06:00

Today has been an apprehensive day.

That is all.

My Twenty-Four Hours

2007-12-17T16:44:00.000-06:00

Last night I couldn't sleep. Though I felt it was more insomnia than lack of tiredness. When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep, but you're never really awake either. I began to see every mistake I've ever made, and wondered who'd I'd be without them. I'm not sure it matters.

At five thirty this morning I fell asleep.

I dreamed.

And it was beautiful.

I woke up at six.

The school day was long. But thats okay, because soon I'll be failing exams instead of sitting through class. This fact does not bother me. I found out that the one class I could be exempt from doesn't exempt. This does not bother me either. My English teacher was yet again not satisfied, but even this did not bother me.

The day spun on. And on. And on.

I got coffee today, it was the worst cup of coffee I think I've ever had. The coffee endeavor ended in a bitter realization of a fact that I've known since January-but I'm a slow learner, or some kind of disappointment junkie (I always play my cards just right to find it every time). Either way, I'm picking up the pieces.

I drove home. I drove fast. I screamed as loud as I could. I felt better. Then I didn't feel anything.

I listened to all the music one may typically listen to in these situations. It didn't make me feel better. It didn't make me feel worse. I didn't change how I felt about anything. It changed everything. I turned the music off.

The silence got to me after approximately four point seven six three seconds, and The Shins soon filled my ears again. James Russell Mercer sang to me about double barreled guns and laying feelings bare. You had to know that I was fond of you. Fond of Y-O-U.

And everything seemed to be going so well.

An angry Irishman pressed the shiny button on his universal explosives detonator. The resulting explosion sends me, red Converse All Stars and all, hurling through the brisk night air. I land feet first, reaching towards the sky for that invisible saving hand-my fingers find only air. Sinking, slowly, tar filling my lungs, as I wait. Waiting for an angel. Waiting for a saint. Waiting for Mother Teresa. For Elvis. For God. I realize I'll be waiting for a long time.

Though I could always, as Mercer suggests, realize that the worst part is over-now get back on that horse and ride.

And You Know Something is Happening Here...

2007-12-16T14:03:00.000-06:00

but you don't know what it is
do you? Mister Jones...

You've been with the professors

And they've all liked your looks

With great lawyers you have

Discussed lepers and crooks

You've been through all of

F. Scott Fitzgerald's books

You're very well read

It's well known...

My Mixed Feelings

2007-12-14T17:48:00.000-06:00

Well, today I failed my research paper. The reason being? I used all book sources, and had no online source. I was told that had I had an online source, I would've made an A or a B. Minus one hundred (100) points for only using books. I imagine that you can understand why I am so perturbed.

In other news, today was Claire's birthday, and everyone partied at Highpoint. Joey was there, and very fresh. Brian was there, but hadn't showered in several weeks. I mention them because they hugged me. So Austy, Shannon, Claire, Joey, and myself talked about everything for several hours, it was an excellent birthday party I believe. I ate an espresso coffee ground cake, thinking it was chocolate-it was disgusting.

Lighter subject (no pun intended), I've been playing around with some new photographic styles, and I'm pleased with the results. I also believe I should purchase some lights soon, as I really enjoy using them.

A lot hangs in the balance right now.

I don't think people should dislike their educational experience as much as I do right now. I get that seniors are going to be ready to get away from wherever they are-so don't even start with that. Its a good deal bigger than just ready to move on to college. I guess I just miss Jason Ashlock, its funny how many things in life come back to that. Its also funny how the most relaxed teacher with the most relaxed policies is also the teacher who taught me the most and seems to be a favorite for almost everyone (I can actually think of one person who didn't like him, and she complains about a lot of things). While the strictest teachers who have the most outrageous grading policies make me despise subjects I used to love, and make me dread every day in their class. Because of them, I have zero motivation. It actually makes me scared to ever try to be a teacher-I don't think I could live with myself if I made a student despise I subject they once loved, how do these people deal with it?

And do I feel prepared for college by these people? No, but I do feel prepared for college from all the work I've done outside my college prep school. Thank God for people who give me advice and for Wikipedia. Yes, Wikipedia.

Final thoughts? I've never wanted to drop out of high school anymore than this moment. Personally I think it would be fitting.

I thought

2007-11-16T20:17:00.000-06:00

I hate highschool girls, at least, I thought I hated highschool girls, and I kinda do. But I believe that a statement like "I hate how much I like highschool girls" may be more acacurate. I do hate typicality in girls though, thats a fact.

I hate stubborn teachers, the kind that are impossible to work with and believe their class is more imporant than anything art related. I hate it even more that their class is rubbish, and that I'm learning nothing applicable.

I hate drama department drama. You didn't get a good part, too bad. Most of you, if not all of you, who are complaining have had multiple good roles in the past, including the last show we did.

I hate difficult tests. No matter how hard I study, fifty-six short answer questions are going to be terrible difficult to remember.

I hate waiting months for an item to be in stock, and store managers who, week after week, forget to place an order. I hate that they say come back next week every week for months.

I hate not being able to sleep, even though I'm so so tired.

I hate how bitter I am.

Warm in December...

2007-10-18T20:55:00.000-05:00

Highschool is important.

My grades will affect my entire life.

Research papers are important.

Memorizing tidbits of the Bible is very important.

Art is a hobby, it can't be a career.

The play is looking nice.

I'm well rested.

I'm not bitter.

I have so much money.

Uniforms are still awesome.

Seussical is terrible, I don't miss it.

I really don't miss J.

I just won the game.

It's not a trap.

---------------------------------

All of the above statements are false.

The Man Who Sold the World

2007-09-13T18:03:00.000-05:00

Spotlight Award goes to: David Bowie

just because...

Anyway, I'm feeling a rant, but I will desist. I began Repition by Soren Kierkegaard today, and I am intrigued. For those of you who aren't familiar with Kierkegaard's writings, he's an early to mid 20th century existential philosopher; one of the first actually. He wields language like a sword, and I like swords. Oh, other readings, Kurt Vonnegut. I'm doing a paper of his Cat's Cradle, which again, is an excellent read. Its fairly short, I imagine you could finish it in an afternoon. I love satire, and Kurt Vonnegut Jr is satire incarnate, so naturally I'm obsessed. If you're reading this, I know you're quite bored. I do suggest you end your bordem by watching some Look Around You. Because its hilarious.

Directionless

2007-09-12T16:27:00.000-05:00

The following has no direction, read at your own risk.

It's slowly getting colder outside, this prospect is rather exilerating. I'm finding it difficult to be patient, I'm very ready for wool coats, scarves, and sweaters. I will be visiting colleges fairly soon, SCAD, Watkins, MCA, and Memphis. I hope I discover the place that is right for me. Speaking of colleges, my portfolio is near completeion, if you're interested in seeing just let me know. On that note, I believe I will be upgrading to a new camera body soon, this prospect is also exciting.

Today I took the time to look back. I realized that soon I'll be away from highschool, away from my class, away from these teachers, away from these rules. To me this is bittersweet. I certainly wont miss any of Harding's rules, but I'm close to many teachers and of course; there are my friends. I wish I had more vivid memories of my seventh grade year, I wish I could observe who I was then and who I am now. On a more superficial note, I wish would stop giving my odd looks everytime I said something in Humanities Seminar. I suppose that just shows me that there are some things I wont be missing at all.

I can't think of anything else this time.

Title and Registration

2007-09-11T21:50:00.001-05:00

Blog Project Mk 3.0.

"The Son Also Rises" has no relationship to the Hemingway novel (cough) "The Sun Also Rises." Infact the inspiration came from an episode of Battlestar Galactica (which just happens to be my favorite Sci Fi show (Lost isn't really a Sci Fi show, despite what some people may have been misled to believe). By Inspiration, I mean that I just stole the episode title. I hope that doesn't result in legal ramifications.

Registration. I guess that just means that I registered this blog today, and registering a blog typically means that said blog has an intended purpose. This one doesn't, I just liked the title idea. But why not run with it? Chances are you aren't reading this, but on the off chance you are, please check back every now in then...bloggers typically do this thing called update. I'm usually kinda bad at that, but we'll see what happens.

Cliche. Welcome.