Drawn to the Dark

A whisper sounds in the night as you exit the Publix at which you work the last shift. Your feet sound like the rolling thunder on the pavement as your heartbeat starts to grow. The trees rattle and the wind howls. You wish you were at home, safe under your blankets with the lights on, but your car seems so far away, and why have your legs turned to jelly? You are uneasy. With every step, you are drawn further into paranoia and blind, naked fear. You start to notice everything wrong with the scene: how the doors of your car are just so slightly ajar, how your head feels like a lead weight, the splotches of dark red blood staining the dry, reedy grass. The bent, rusted tricycle leaning up against the tree to your left, creaking helplessly in the wind. The mirthless, cold, high pitched laughter, ringing in your ears long after it fades away, still coming at you on all sides.

If you are anything like me, this sort of thing is exactly the kind of literature that quenches your thirst. That little blurb I wrote up there is a teaser of what would usually keep you interested. That sense of claustrophobia, of anxiety. Of fright, and especially of high-flying ecstasy. You probably also enjoyed the movie The Ruins, in which a group of innocent, if horny and sometimes jealous, young adults are left stranded atop an abandoned archaeological dig in Mexico, where they end up slowly tortured and bloodied, one by one. You found immense enjoyment in such movies as Halloween, Nightmare on Elm Street, Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Hellraiser. You probably read HP Lovecraft and Stephen King. You find yourself fascinated by the strangest and most outrageous news tales. The darker, the better. No matter how perverse or twisted. You are repelled, but at the same time you are fascinated. You want to know more. You want to know why, every single little detail, every minute speck. Every reason behind the madness in the world.

For instance, this: http://www.cbc.ca/canada/story/2008/07/31/greyhound-transcanada.html. A man decapitates a passenger sitting next to him on a grayhound bus. Surely this is a heinous act, so why do I find myself curious as to the circumstances? Why am I so morbidly fascinated? I mean, it's fucked up. It's really fucked up. It's an atrocity, plain and simple, but it's also fascinating. As I stated above, I want to know more, because the human psyche is an incredible thing. What possessed this man to do what he did, and how much of a danger is something like this to humanity? And then, being the demented creative mind that I am, I ask, how can I exploit this in a story?

Why are we drawn to the dark? It is certainly not normal or socially acceptable. We are certainly not raised that way. They talk against horror movies and darker literature in Sunday School. Don't read it or else your soul will go to the devil. You know. From birth, we're taught to fear the bogeyman and the grim reaper and other such creatures of the night. We're told innumerable bed time stories telling of why they should be feared, and it becomes imprinted into us to condemn these things and avoid them. We keep night lights on as young children. We don't look under the bed, or in the closet. When we see a dark room, we turn on a light.

Once we grow out of that sort of blind, obedient fear, we become curious. While it obviously varies from person to person, I would pinpoint this stage at around the latter half of the single-digit-number age years. You started to make more friends around that time, and with your friends you traipsed around the neighborhood like you were the kings of the world. Cops and robbers, capture the flag, hide and seek, all of it. But what about when you grew bored? The curiosity of a child is something boundless and wild. Did you ever take your closest group of friends and venture into places that you were told were dangerous? Did you go down into the woods and stay there, defiantly waiting to prove that you could stand up to the ghosties and goblins that lay within? Did you ever say Bloody Mary three times in a row in front of a mirror in the dark? Did you ever tell ghost stories sitting around in your friend's room, with the lights off and the curtains closed?

Now, some kids grow out of that eventually. They go on to become successful lawyers and doctors, or maybe they don't, and maybe they only amount to a janitor or a secretary in an office. Maybe they go home at night after a long day cleaning the shitty toilets and the spilled urine on the tile floors and the trash, and all other manner of discarded waste, to see their children sitting on the couch, munching Doritos and watching a television program so tastefully dubbed MASTERS OF HORROR MARATHON. They turn the TV off, exclaiming in disgust that those movies weren't good for the childrens' psyches. They send them to bed, where the creepy-crawlies sniff and scratch up to the surface to take them in their nightmares.

These nightmares? They come from those who are naturally drawn to the dark. They come from those who never grew out of the curiosity that blossomed in them as a child. We are drawn to the dark. Who really knows why? It varies from person to person, from sick mind to sicker mind. We aren't scared by what lurks under the bed or behind that dark corner, or in the attic, so we set out to find something that does scare us. We are like journeymen on an expedition, except instead of the tip of some faraway mountain, we search for something that can remind us what it feels like to be really, truly scared. We want to feel that old thrill, like we're going down a huge roller coaster - think Islands of Adventure, perhaps. We like that frozen chill running down our backs. We see talent and gusto in those who can scare us, because it is not an easy feat - and those of us with good taste, we appreciate that talent, and thus is born our lust for good horror stories. Those of us who write or direct, we make more horror stories not only to scare the uninitiated "normal" folk, but to impress those like us. Those who are also drawn to the dark.

In the end, a lot of the stuff that "normal" people find revolting and disgusting is just really damned cool, no other way around it. It's an acquired taste, but so are all cool things in life. It's a form of escapism, except it's for people who don't want to escape via dragons and dwarves or spaceships and aliens. Real life is trying and oftentimes droll and drab. You all come home at night, and we all turn out the lights. You all brush your teeth after the credits start rolling on Fresh Prince or Who Wants to be a Millionaire, and you all tuck yourselves into bed. But are you drawn to the dark?

Exactly a week ago, I had my first taste of local politics (as well as my first taste of gelato), live. It was at the last place you’d expect a heathen Atheist such as myself being: a Church.

Me, my supervisor (who is also the Christian Service Animator for the school which I attend), and my friend Chris went to a local Church, where several Ontarian MPPs (Members of Provincial Parliament) and many locals were present. Me and Chris were definitely the youngest people there, as we were surrounded by lots of elders, as well as the local university’s radio host who put the program on radio (who has Multiple Sclerosis) and a lawyer as the host of that day’s public forum. The reason why we were all there was to discuss poverty reduction, specifically within Ontario. Though there was a lot to be said about poverty reduction, there was one thing that stayed with me during the entire “production”; per se: the lack of professionalism.

Tatum Wilson, an MPP in Hamilton on the side of the Liberals, was a very brave man. He was that afternoon’s representative of the biggest target of the NDP (New Democratic Party) MPP’s, and he knew that he’d be, but he still attended. As the NDP MPPs Andrea and Paul “The Man In The Middle” (I can’t remember their last names), as I had called him before knowing his name, were discussing strategies on poverty reduction alongside Tatum, they focused more on attacking Liberals rather than discussing what their party has to offer the province on how to reduce poverty. Tatum was left to fend for himself each time, but he did so with class. It all too well reminded me of a time when I got a letter from the NDP party of Ontario, and how they kept attacking our current Premier, Dalton McGuinty. I actually counted, and the amount of times they attacked Dalton within just a few short paragraph amounted to about 6 times.

A strong benefit of being part of the event and not one of the people watching it in front of the TV set or listening to it on the radio was feeling the whole tense atmosphere. There was fire during the question sessions, especially when a man asking a question right before Chris did was making quite cliché statements that were just meant to piss Paul off. You could imagine the look on Chris’ face as he asked his questions after said man and made his idealistic and admirable yet somewhat naïve statements on homelessness and poverty in general. He was received with much applause and a “hear, hear!” from a man in the audience. Then came my question, but that wasn’t so significant, so I’ll skim right through.

After the whole production (okay, a little before it ended), I went to the Pilgrim Room and ate some food. They had delicious tea, coffee, donuts, cookies, you name it! Apart from the food, however, I had a really good time talking to the elders at some of the tables. It was really nice for me to have conversations on politics with people who actually cared for once, unlike my peers at school. I learned about all of the groups they’ve started within the city regarding different global issues such as poverty, homelessness, war, and the like. They all had so many personal experiences regarding the issues from their lives.

Someone who intrigued me very much at the Church was a man named Joseph, who had a very touching story. Joseph was a man who underwent poverty (according to him, not only physically, but spiritually and socially) after his business in England went down. He put 90,000 pounds into that business (approximately $200,000CDN according to him), only to lose it all during a stock market crisis. Worse came to worse, and he claimed his only salvation by coming to Canada to try to find work and stability. He did not find work, and was forced to go on ODSP, which provided him very little of his basic human needs. This was his story that led him there, to be involved in poverty reduction.

After this experience, I learned that there is nothing like politics living itself out right in front of your very own eyes. See it for yourself, live it for yourself. If you’re going to see your country’s future blossom, live it, don’t watch it on TV. If you’re going to see your country’s future destroyed, the same applies. There is nothing like the atmosphere of reality living itself in front of you as opposed to the reality that others are leading you to believe, because it doesn’t give you the same feeling. Tell me your stories of reality unfolding itself in surprising ways.

Issues surrounding genetics

There's plenty of issues surrounding genetics today, but 2 of the biggest ones are cloning (which includes tissue restoration) and incest. These issues of genetics challenge us heavily in our modern-day society to ask ourselves what is right and what is wrong. Some say such things are just "cultural taboos" and nothing more, but I ask you, are they really just that? We'll take a look at some of the reasoning behind the dislike towards such things.

Firstly, we'll start off with cloning and tissue restoration. There's a few ways that you can get the stem cells needed to go through the process necessary to provide the proper results. The first is destroying an embryo, the second is taking stem cells from an adult's bone marrow, and the third is taking the stem cells from fetal tissue (stem cells are very prevalent here because the fetus required many stem cells to develop, but things got kind of "half-way" since they were aborted during their most important period of growth). When Clem Persaud came to St. Jean De Brebeuf Catholic Secondary School (Hamilton, Ontario, Canada) in 2008, he discussed the differences between these different methods of extracting stem cells.

The first method of extracting stem cells, according to Clem, is the most unethical at all for these reasons: if women are creating these embryos just to be destroyed for medical purposes, they will be thought of as "egg carriers," which is demeaning. Furthermore, stem cells extracted from embryos can be cancerous.

The second method of extraction is very ethical, because you can take the cells from an adult, have them divide and divide, and give back the necessary amount of cells to the adult. These cells taken from the adult can help repair an injury in one month rather than several months. It's also key to note that they are not cancerous at all.

The last method is moderate; in between the ethical levels of the second and first methods mentioned. The reason being is that there's the possibility that some women will abort their babies due to bribes for the baby's stem cells. However, if there's sufficient enough evidence that this wasn't why the abortion was finalized, then taking the stem cells would be ethical, though some would find it debateably unethical.

Now, onto incest.

Sometimes, 2 people from the same family have sex. Let's say they had a child together, just for the sake of this explanation. Within families, there is usually a few diseases that are recessive, meaning that those people don't suffer from the disease but carry it, and will send it to their future children if their partner carries the recessive gene as well. It actually doubles the chance that their offspring will develop these genetic weaknesses, such as cancer, diabetes, etc... and also, quite early.

I've just provided you with a bit of background on some of the reasoning behind the anti-incest and general genetic ethics. I would love to hear what you say, but don't provide me with irrelevent crap.

Why women should rule the world

As I was running down my usual routine of internet "check-up's" (Facebook, Hotmail, EthicalAtheist, ArmenianGenocide, and some others), I bumped into MSN's main page after logging out of my Hotmail account, and discovered an interesting article. It's called Why Women Should Rule the World, which is an exerpt from the book with the same name by Dee Dee Myers. Now, before I discuss this article in more detail, I have some questions pertaining to the title of this article: what does it mean to rule the world? Is it political power; the power to influence; military power; the power to kill; or is it the power to prevent the conception of children; to prevent human life on Earth as we know it from ever existing? Is it easier to kill, or is it easier to prevent life from entering into the world? Another thing we must note is that Dee Dee is a woman, who admits within the article itself in one of the bolded points below that she has a pretty good chance of being biased toward "girl power." Apparently, it's all a matter of leadership styles.

A Matter of Leadership Styles

All of which begs the question: Do men and women lead differently? Is there such a thing as a "female style"? A recent analysis of forty-five separate studies addressing the question found that the answer was "yes." Women are slightly more likely to be "transformational" leaders, collectively setting goals and empowering their teams to achieve them. And men are more likely to be "transactional" leaders, letting subordinates know what is expected, rewarding them for their successes and holding them accountable for their failures. Not surprisingly, most leaders did not fit neatly into one or the other of these categories, but there was, nonetheless, a measurable difference based on gender.

This is the common knowledge pointed out here: men tend to lean more toward being brutes than women do, and women are more sociable. However, women tend to be "soft" because of this sociability, and at times, softness isn't a good thing. Once people know you're easy to step on, they'll walk all over you. Perhaps this level of softness is what lead us to being more into helping others, and we all know that when you help somebody, they're more likely to do something for you. With that being said, people listen to us because there's an emphasis on closeness and warmth, and we give that. But, would that work in the military? I'm not going to imply that it wouldn't, because certainly, no military has applied caring and understanding as part of their policy on how they treat their recruits, soldiers, combatants, whatever the names are.

Now comes the kicker: Research also shows that transformational leaders --
especially those who also reward good performance, a positive aspect of
transactional leadership common among women - tend to be more effective,
particularly in the less-hierarchical, fast-paced, and innovation-driven
contemporary world. So not only do women have a somewhat different style; it's
more likely to be successful.

The point made here is that people will want to feel appreciated. Women give that feeling of appreciation.

To me, what's most important about that finding is not that women rule (though I obviously have a soft spot for studies and statistics that put us girls in the most flattering light). Rather, it's further evidence that there is more than one way to bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan, that different leadership styles -- regardless of their gender bent -- can get the job done. And that gives everyone more options; it creates a more flexible, more adaptive and ultimately more productive workplace.

Sum: different strategies work best in different situations. Diversity increases productivity in the work process. I've no arguments with Dee here.

"By valuing a diversity of leadership styles, organizations will find the
strength and flexibility to survive in a highly competitive, increasingly
diverse economic environment," says Dr. Judith Rosener of the University of
California, Irvine.

Again, diversity rules.

Bringing up the topic of diversity, I have a scenario for you to think about: let's say the whole world was 100 people. You've got 30 women, who tells everyone what goes - they're the leaders. Then you've got 35 women who listen to them, as well as 35 men who listen to them, too. Is the leadership they're undertaking really diverse? Or, what if it was 30 men ruling everyone? Or better yet, let's say there are 15 men and 15 women leading the 70 others, who are also 50% women and 50% men. According to Judith's lean toward diversity, would that not make things better? Would that mean one group is better than the other at leading?

The answer to that question is no. Because there is an equal split, and because the leaders are as diverse as the subordinates, the needs of everyone, or at least the majority, are met as best-suited as possible. Now, back to the article.

Sally Helgesen, a leadership development expert, believes that because women
have rarely fitted easily into corporate molds not designed for them, they have been "forced to pioneer policies and strategies that are turning out to be exactly suited to the conditions of the new knowledge-based economy. In the end, women's greatest contribution to our changing world may be their insistence upon breaking the mold rather than just fitting in."

Challenges create struggles. Struggles create needs for solutions. The creation of solutions needs creativity in order for solutions to be created in the first place. Now, looking at this again, this seems to apply more toward a European or North American viewpoint. As a lady once discussed with me, there have been societies in time's past where men have been considered to be below women (like in several Native tribes), and thus, had more to struggle for.

Among other things, the line between work and home is fading, and people --
especially women -- are learning to invent their own positions. I more or less
invented my current "job," which I sometimes describe as "stay-at-home pundit."
It's an interesting and flexible mix that has included contributing to Vanity
Fair, giving speeches, yakking about politics on television, consulting on
politically themed-movies and television shows, and writing about stuff that
interests me. I work out of an office in my house, which saves me time commuting
(and I confess, on some days, showering). My children have (mostly) learned to
respect my closed door, and when they don't, I escape to the local public
library, conveniently equipped with free wireless Internet. The technological
innovations and cultural transformations that allow me to do what I do came
together just in time for me. While I realize that it can't work for everyone,
there's no question that opportunities to define a career path will continue to
increase -- a trend that I believe will be led by women.

It probably will be led by women, considering there's been, historically, more challenges, and thus more need for creativity for women rather than men.

The biggest downside to my current arrangement is the anxiety that I feel when I
face the "occupation" line on a school form or loan application. I usually write
"consultant" -- and then hope I don't get busted for I'm-not-sure-what. There's
also a certain guilt that comes from not having to leap out of bed before dawn
to unload the dishwasher, fold the laundry, shower and blow-dry and apply
makeup, get the kids ready for school, and burn rubber backing out of the
driveway at 7:45 a.m. I recently saw a cartoon that summed up my life. A couple
is sitting at the kitchen table in their bathrobes, drinking coffee. As the man
taps away on his laptop, his wife says: "You've blurred the boundary between
working from home and being unemployed."

This increasingly less structured, more flexible workplace suits women's
lives -- and their skills. "When you put together a thirty-person project team
[in the past], it was all people from Raytheon," explains Tom Peters, the
management consultant. "Now, the thirty-person project team involves people from eleven companies, seven countries, and three continents. There's no formal power or hierarchy. So we need a different set of relation-driven skills."

Again: women understand people better than men. Women have also been proven to be better at multi-tasking than men, so the range of flexibility works better for them than it does for men.

"This is why you want to hire women," says Pat Mitchell, a pioneer in
broadcast news and the current president of the Museum of Radio and Television.
"They are consensus builders. They really do look for different ways to resolve
things. They are innovative and creative thinkers. And they do act on instinct
and intuition."

Ending off on this article, it basically implies that women should rule the world. Well, should we? Do you feel appreciated when someone's ruling over you? And why don't women rule the world? Or, is this implying that we're subordinates, and we shouldn't be subordinates, but the superiors? In the end, it all comes to this: do you feel better being someone's subordinate, or having a subordinate of your own? Considering that people listen to others when they have a relation of warmth and closeness, having one over the other might diminish that warmth, and thus, make the idea of women having to be superior or men having to be superior worth as much as nil.

The Roaming Buffalo

Meet Buffalo Brown, "a proud native son of the USA accepting the hospitality of Canada; a Nam Vet who is a capitalist, socialistic, Libertarian" who also describes himself as an Atheist and hedonist. He's the 2nd interviewee on ATWKS' interviews with me. Below, his answers are formatted in italics, and my questions in bold.

What state did you formerly live in the USA? How was your transition from said place to Manitoba, Quebec?
When did you become an Atheist, and why? Why did you realize yourself as a "hedonist"?

Please tell us about some of your experiences in Vietnam, seeing as you're a 'nam vet.

In your blogger profile, you wrote "above all else I value freedom. Freedom is a delicate flower that is difficult to cultivate and so very easy to destroy." Can you expand on this, regarding how you've seen freedom being cultivated and destroyed relevant to something that heavily impacted you?

You asked a few tough questions there, young lady.
1) My last state-side home was in Missouri - Kansas City to be exact. I have lived ever where from California to Massachusetts.
2) The transition to Manitoba is far from complete. I can only tell you that the summers are too short and the winters too long and cold. I hate cold.
3) The journey from believer to Atheist took a number of years to travel. After years of studying religion and philosophy, after years of thinking about what I had read, I found it impossible to believe in a deity. It wasn't a choice. One doesn't choose to believe or disbelieve.
4) I believe that life is about living. We truly live by experiencing all life has to offer - the pleasures, the pains, the sorrow, the joys, the work, the learning. That is the GP-rated version. 5) Vietnam was a life-altering experience. It was endless hours of hard work, lonliness and boredom juxtaposed with periods of mind numbing, adrenalin-charged danger. It is something that stays with you forever.
6) Unfortunately I don't see freedom being cultivated. I see it only being taken away. I believe very strongly that every adult should be free to do exactly what they want to do as long as it does not physically interfere with someone else enjoying those same freedoms.

Missouri sounds familiar. If you could describe it in 1 word, apart from home, what would it be and why?

I don't think of Missouri as home. I've lived in far too many places to consider any one of as my home.

Well I was asking you, sir, if you could describe Missouri in one word and why, hah.

I am well aware of that, ma'am. How do you describe the ever changing beauty of the Ozark Hills in one word? Have you ever sat on a bluff over looking the convergence of two very different rivers, one clear, shallow and fast moving and the other deep, slow and muddy, while a full summer moon casts its magic? How does one describe the beauty, the aromas, the kiss of a night breeze and the sounds of night creatures moving through the woods in one word. How does one adequately describe love with one word and one word only?

Well, there are broad terms you can use, but I sort of get ya. I tell you, if I had to describe my current town in 1 word, it would be quite hard, and not for positive reasons. *laughs*

One word descriptions are very limiting as the image that is conjured in the mind of the reader is often quite different from what the writer meant.

You're still getting adjusted to Manitoba, eh? What do you think of the culture and the people of Manitoba? How does it differ from that of your other homes, such as Missouri?

I don't judge all of Manitoba based on my observations of this small section where we live. It is a heavily Mennonite area. I have not been able to engage any of them in conversation. I get the impression that if you're not Mennonite you are not only an outsider, but for all intents and purposes you don't exist. I have never lived anywhere that I could not get people to talk to me.

What are some other things about Manitoba that really turn you off? And no, not in a sexual way. Though I highly doubt that a city would be able to sexually turn anyone on sexually, unless you were sadistic... sorry, I got caught in the moment there. Also, do you have anything good to say about Manitoba? Because if you do, do tell us.

This part of Manitoba is a very peaceful place. The threat level is virtually zero. I am not uncomfortable with leaving the house unlocked. I feel no need to have a pistol within easy reach. (I sent it home before I crossed the border. A good thing since they searched our saddlebags when we crossed.)
The medical system here seems to work fairly well. The cleanliness of the environment blows me away.
Other than the cold of winter and the lack of social contact it isn't a bad place.

What was the most significant piece that you've read which helped you build a strong lead toward Atheism?

It would have to be the Bible - specifically the King James version of the Bible.

Why was it specifically the King James version that impacted you in a negative manner?

That was the version of the bible we used. The outcome would have been the same if I had read a Catholic bible or any of the newer translations they offer now days.

I'll say, you've got some very interesting views on life. Must be the "with age comes wisdom factor." Hah, you must be OLD. Errr..... okay, let's get back to the questions.

Yes, I'm old. By your standards I'm ancient.

The wisdom factor that is supposed to come with age is highly overrated. More often than not that much vaunted wisdom translates into the knowledge that doing something you really want to do is going to hurt like hell.

So, in short, 'nam was like many moments of boredom, with intervals of life-threatening danger in between?

Yeah, kind of/sort of, but not exactly. It was what it was. It isn't something I'm terribly comfortable talking about.

Okay, if talking about 'nam makes you this uncomfortable, some things must have shocked you horribly. I promise not to talk about 'nam again in this interview.

There are things about the Nam that do cause an emotional reaction when I think or talk about them. More importantly, unless a person has been to war they have a tendancy to judge based on their particular sense of reality which has been cultivated by their culture, the movies they watch and the books or texts they read. A couple of years ago I was listening to an extremely liberal talk show down home. The moderator, one of those I'm so damned smart folk, was making statements about combat and the military that were absolutely wrong. I called in and told her a truth. (No, I didn't get ugly or smart.) She cut me off and told her listeners that I need to check into a mental ward. Her words to me aren't the issue. I told her an absolute truth. Her reality made her dismiss it without thought.
That's life though. Everyone judges through the filters of their own existence. More often than not their existences are extremely narrow.

Referring to your "Nam experience".... That's really true. For example, most people who were denying the Armenian genocide of 1915 didn't look at the obvious effects of the incident. Some who even recognized the situation took it for nothing.
That's a very common thing. The writers of history rarely lived it, have only second and third hand knowledge of it, and filter it through the supposed reality of their experience. No two people see something the same way. Ask any cop that questions witnesses to an accident or a crime.

That last thing you said about being able to be free without restricting anyone else's freedom reminds me of something my brother said about freedom of health. He made a comparison of fat people to smokers. He said that fat people are an endangerment to society, so why are they more socially acceptable than smokers? I would've said that it's because one person's weight doesn't affect anyone else's health, and smoking affects other people's health, but there has been some evidence that fat people, because of their high influential power within their kids at a young age, make their kids imitate their bad eating habits. How do you feel about all this?

Well, I'm fat and I smoke and, though admitedly biased, I think your brother is wrong for a lot of reasons. Check this out.

Of course parents influence their children. Peers influence peers. Entertainment icons influence fans. Poverty breeds improper nutrition and poor eating habits. Ignorance breeds poor eating habits. Two job families breed poor eating habits. Junk food and candy company advertising promotes poor eating habits. There is a lot more that I could say about both weight and smoking. It is all pretty futile though. It seems to be an unfortunate truth that there is a concentrated effort to engineer society into a place where individuality, free thought and simple freedom doesn't exist. It makes me almost happy that I am no longer young.

Thanks for the interview, Buffalo!

My pleasure, Flora. Thanks for asking.

Old pieces resurfaced

Some time ago, I wrote pieces on a site called DeviantArt (which is incredible, by the way). I wrote some odd and interesting stuff, and stuff that only mature readers should read. So, if you're not mature, then click the x button at the top right corner of your screen.

Morning Reflections: 1
My philosophy on writing.

The time passes by me so slowly this early morning that I can hear the drumming of the clock resting near my head. The sound of the tics and tocs keeps playing so loudly that every other surrounding sound has practically vanquished, even the sound of my pencil writing on this piece of paper. Why am I writing about something so simple, you ask? I can only answer that question by stating a personal writer's motto of mine - view your literature as art in motion. Let your past experiences of sounds and images infuse with my words to become one. Let your mind hear the clock, let your mind see the clock....

My mind is always pretty much a blank canvas until I've got that one great idea that sparks the rest of my material. Think of my style of writing as a dynamite chain where, randomly, a supporting idea can create the topic and conclusion, the topic can create the body and conclusion, or the conclusion can create the topic and body. Here is my second writer's motto - never leave the writing pad without at least 1 good idea down. You will soon discover that you won't be able to leave your writer's pad anyway.

Think of the last time you deeply immersed yourself in an activity you love to do so much that nothing else mattered. This is exactly how I feel towards writing. When I'm in my own little writer's world, no one can judge me by calling me fat, stupid, or ugly. And if they choose to do so in reality, they might as well not be because I'll be too busy in the beautiful utopia that is literature to even notice.

Canada was my first liberator, but my second liberator is what I value almost above that - the pen. It can help you write letters or petitions to help protect what is sacred to you, to verbally express yourself, and to vent out your feelings during tough times. I think that's mostly what brought me close to the pen (or in the case of this entry, the pencil), the whole aspect of writing to let people know how I feel. I want you to get something out of it so that you can better understand some of your own experiences. Indeed, the pen is taken for granted nowadays.

Though I sometimes long for time to tick faster, I'm okay with taking as much of it as possible. Like writing a story, essay, lyrics, etcetera, you sometimes need to take lots of time to really see and create the least obvious beauties of the world. Seems like time passed by quicker than I'd hoped - it's been almost an exact hour since I've started writing. All I can say is good night, and I hope to write to you in a long, rather than short time, so my next welcome to you is at least on par with the quality of this entry.

The Return of An Old Friend
On our place in the world.

She, among the other two returned. We were discussing things like my future, and ways for me to avoid my parents. For those who don't know, my reasons are too long to tell, but you're going to have to take my word for it - they highly deserve all the suffering this world can bring. Me and my brothers have done some crazy shit to eachother, but in the end, we're still care about eachother no matter how fucked up things get between us. A knife and a gun can't separate us.

The sky isn't as starry and bright as we think they are when we're children. In reality, all children are crazy idealists who, like drug addicts, easily find amusement in anything. I used to want to be on drugs and have that child-like mind, worrying about nothing and too stupid to understand the true darkness of the world, not knowing of death and the evils. Unlike what happens in a children's story, nothing is ever happily ever after, but a beginning of the end.

Look around you, and what do you see? I see a moon, with a heart so black that it steals light from the sun to be a thieving glow, ending another day in an even more thieving world. I can smell it right now.... a grave, lit by moonlight, wolves driven wild in an almost sexual way by an animalistic celebritarianism that they hope to achieve, and an innocent bystander, unwelcome by them. When the moon glows at it's brightest, red rain will fall out of the sky, gaining a brown hue and smelling like rust when it dries and touches the ground. Soon after, the innocent bystander will suddenly disappear without a trace.

It is up to you to see the beauty in the morbidity of the world. I cannot simply explain it in words, because it is inexplainable. It is one without words, but it is projected in different ways to please the eye of each individual. Let what I'm saying mean something to you, rather than questioning what it means to me. If you do ask me to explain it in words, you will permanently lose it, because the point is to go beyond society and to think for yourselves.

Vision Quest
On evil and good.

So many times have I lost myself, gazing at that beautiful element of nature called fire. I stare into its soul, and soon enough, it becomes a mirrored reflection of mine. Past, unsolved mysteries of life seem to be solved by the colour scheme of yellow, orange, and red. However, once blown out, the black and grey of the world seem to instantly reappear. It’s strange how something considered to be dead breathes so much life into me.

A great loss of words describes this moment in time perfectly. Looking again at the fire, I see the yin and yang of life. The fire, representing goodness and love, is burning out, or metaphorically speaking, destroying the black string, the evil. But before the string was burned, it was white, which represents goodness and love as well. It just goes to show that within evil lies the potential for good and within good lies the potential for evil.

There’s a dark shadow surrounding everything in life, but the way that you deal with the darkness is a vitally detrimental factor. Every fire has a shadow around it that it casts. We all create problems in our lives and pay for it either by direct or indirect karma, with the most hurtful direct form being an irony of fate. However, no one is expected to be perfect or to make no mistakes, for the mere attempt at perfection is the biggest gesture of all.

Though fire is beautiful, it can be very destructive in the wrong hands. Think of a girl holding a fashion magazine, flipping over to a page with a diet ad. Whether this girl is healthy or not, if she has low self-esteem, the chances of her giving in become greater. This can lead to mental illnesses, sometimes as serious as anorexia or bolemia. Physical perfection is not a requirement to be deemed truly beautiful, but rather perfecting the fire that is your soul.

In the end, everyone has a blazing wall of fire surrounding them, producing many of the dark, evil wonders, and many of the light, good wonders, of the world. Together, we make the living fire of destruction, passion, love, joy, sadness, sorrow, and madness. If we ever miss even just one of these things, all purpose will be destroyed, and in our hearts will thrive a life-draining void. Take my words, heed yourselves… Because fire is far from related to the image of Hell.

There's been more in the past that I've written on DeviantArt, but those were long deleted.

The never-ending chronicles of moron: part who-knows-what

I wrote this in my 2nd period classroom between 9:30AM and 10:52AM

There's so much noise and I'm so tired. It's hard to block it all out and write fluidly right now, but I'm doing the best I can.

It was early in the morning, at about 7:30AM. I woke up quite late, though I originally woke up at 6, when I went back to sleep and set my alarm clock for 7. Obviously, the clock didn't serve its purpose. And yes, I did have it set properly. I even checked twice after 7:30.

As soon as I woke up, I saw my dad. He looked pretty angry as he yelled, "It's 7:30!" I actually didn't realize that until he yelled it to me, which was when I checked my alarm clock. I explained to him my situation, and he started accusing me of lying. He even accused me of lying when I showed him myself that the alarm was set properly.

I went downstairs soon after, and I saw my mom. She asked me for the time and I told her it was 7:30. Looking at me with panic, she said, "go and change into your clothes!" "I'll find my clothes after I eat." She got a bit mad when I said that, and replied with a response of how I had no time to eat and how I was going to be late. Well quite frankly, I was going to be late whether I ate or not because I only had about 40 minutes to get ready and be at school, and it usually takes me about 25 minutes to walk there.

So there I was, eating strawberry cereal in the kitchen and waiting for the water I put in a kettle to finish boiling for my coffee, because I was just so fucking tired. Yes, I stayed up until about two; playing video games until 12 and writing more articles until 2 or 3 (I'm almost positive it was 2, but it could have gone to 3 since I didn't really check the time often) until my mom caught me and told me I had to go to bed. Since my mom was there, she was able to blame my lateness on my lack of sleep. I on the other hand, still blame it on my alarm clock not working.

My dad chose to tag along with my mom. He eventually came downstairs. I can't recall everything that happened, because I'm still a bit "out of it." I was still eating breakfast. And then, it happened - drama queen daddy (my dad's new nickname as of three, two, one, zero, now) showed up and displaced all possibly existing normalcy. Since I still can't remember a lot of shit, I'll tell you the results of the small "alarm clock mistake": I can't use the computer, TV, or play video games for 10 days. I supposedly have to cancel all plans unrelated to school. I can't go to the library anymore.

Do you honestly think I'd listen to that? Again, just because someone is older than you, doesn't mean they should have more privileges to hold more authority or deem themselves less ignorant than you. Don't get caught up in the "elders are wisest" crap, because if I'd fallen for it much longer, I'd probably have no will of my own, but that just of my father's. Believe me, I'm no angel, but my father is the queen of overreaction. Maybe I should get off my pills so I could start doing the same to him.

Stresserella and the dumb old "wise people"

I know I've done a lot of these journals, and I know it may seem narcissistic to some. However, I try to provide you with lessons within each journal I give. Hopefully, I've provided some of you with feelings of strength. Believe me, to just come out with your problems, whether online or in reality, has proven itself quite a tough, tedius, and courageous task. It's not everyday that we wake up saying to ourselves, "I'm not going to lie to people anymore. When they ask me how things are going, I'm going to tell them straight how I feel." It's not like that at all, even for such an open individual as me.

So, here I go again...

It seemed like a regular day. Well, minus the fact that it was an exam day. I woke up, ate, took a shower, and prepared myself to leave for school. I was pretty sure I got all of my stuff together. However, that was proven wrong not so much later.

Fast-forward. I'm at school, and then I discover that I don't have my Accounting Textbook to return at the Book Collection table. You see, if I don't return my textbook, I can't do my exam. So, I basically hustle and bustle about the place, looking in my locker, calling my mom, etc... about how I can't find my book. I get her to look in the house as I'm holding onto the line.

She couldn't find it. I could feel myself heavily panicking, and the stress just built up immensely from there.

I talk to the secretary, and she gave me some handy information about losing my textbook. Since I lost it, she says that the teacher can just fill out some form to the school or whatnot saying that I lost a book and owe one, or $85 pay. Seemed fair. However, I was still immensely stress, being the typing of person that copes with such things very poorly.

Because my exam was with Student Resource (which allows me to do my exam half an hour early than everyone else; that's the only difference), I first headed to resource to find out where I was writing my exam. Luckily, it was just a few doors away. We'll skip through the part with the exam. It wasn't too bad, anyway.

After I finished the exam, I go back to Resource. I asked them where the original exam room (where my Accounting teacher is) is, and basically, it was the room next to where I wrote. How lucky.

So I ask my teacher about the textbook issue. Guess what? Apparently, I already handed in my book, though I don't recall doing so. She also said that my friend, who sits beside me in class, didn't hand in her book, though my friend told me earlier that she did. Here's what I think happened: my book sways over to her desk on occassion, so she might've accidentally handed in mine rather than hers, which is why I don't remember handing mine in - at all - and which is why she remembers supposedly handing hers in. I told her that she forgot to hand her book in, and called my mom back about it ASAP since she was pissed earlier.

Part 2 of the day:

I get home while eating some chocolate. I take off my stuff, and sit at the kitchen table. I tell my dad if he remembers that he allowed me to play video games for 2 hours today. He says he doesn't remember, which became more and more of an obvious lie when he said that he won't let me on because I told him he was being an ass. You know why I told him he was being an ass? Because he was acting seriously victimized just because I wasn't in the mood to hug him in the morning. Seriously, I didn't even hug my great aunt Shukria when she asked, and I love her dearly. He just always does this.

So apparently, he didn't want me to play video games because I told him he was acting like an ass since he was forcing me to get to hug him. Oh, I love the dictatorial bullshit. Well, me, with my lack of taking shit told him exactly just how much of a baby he was being, and I figured out his plan. You know when some person you're close to says "shut up" when you're describing their problem? Well, that usually means they think you're right, but they're too cowardly to deal with the situation maturely. My dad does this all the time; he's like a 5-year-old in a 50-year-old mans body. And yes, I have respect for the elderly, but I only give respect where it's due. I don't care how old a person is, and if they expect respect from me, then they better damn well respect me too. I don't like bullshit.

That reminds me of one of the many things I hate in our society - we place so much emphasis on respecting select groups of people that, when young citizens such as myself disrespect them, there's never a "good enough" justification to do so. An old lady spits at you? Oh, don't talk to her. Your dad is a chauvinistic horse's ass that doesn't show you any true respect or love? Oh, you're just an ungrateful child. You complain so much. And you're just the daughter, so you better damn well listen to his chauvinistic demands. Oh, and you're a woman, so when you're a leader, you're a bitch. When a man shows leadership though, he's just being strong.

Anyway, back to my father being a dick. When he was upstairs, I started playing a video game called Prince of Persia. It got quite fun, then for some reason, when my dad came down, he started bitching again. Really, it just got tedius. You know what he did next? He turned off the game and would not let me save. Hmmm... he had hinted that I could play the game, but yet, he went back on his offer. However, this wasn't what truly annoyed me.

We sort of came to a reconciliation right at the time that they were going to leave the house. I asked them where they were going, and Shukria said to the physician's office. I then asked when they were going, and again, she said to the physician's office. I had to ask my dad when they were going, because she couldn't answer me well. He said ASAP. He obviously knew that I was going to try to play the game when I got the chance.

Some background info on our physician: coincidentally, he was a friend of my dad's in the medical school in Mosul, Iraq, that my father attended quite some years ago. He's one of the best physicians here in our humble, polluted town. Quite frankly, I don't understand why he's in such a shithole, or why he's friends with losers like my dad.

When we did come to that reconciliation point, it came to an abrupt end soon after. Just because I refer to my aunt Shukria usually as Shukria rather than aunt Shukria, my father went absolutely balistic, and started speaking in her name. She didn't really mind it, but my dad, being the drama queen that he is, just had to cause as much trouble as humanly possible. So again, I told him he was being a drama queen and a baby. Now, he says that I can't use the computer or play video games ever because I didn't apologize for what I did. Do you think I honestly listened, considering I'm on the computer right now? Hah!

That felt great to get that all out. What I'd like you to get from all this is that, just because a person's older than you, doesn't make them any greater of an authority. You've got to stand up and say, hey, this is fucked. And never, ever, get yourself too stressed before you're 100% sure that you messed up.

I promise you all... when I don't have so much stress around me, I'll start talking more about other things again. Thank-you for reading my journals and being so kind.

Dekker and Yeats ~ Poets

There are long, drawn-out moments in which we find time to observe in others what we see in ourselves, for we must come to understand that all humans share in common quite a few things. Burning passions or more hidden and subtle desires exist in every person and cannot be entirely avoided. Some choose to ignore or suppress these natural inclinations, while others embrace it and let it be their cynosure in all aspects of life. Either way, the dictations of the heart preside in all of us and the only marked difference is how we choose to let it define who we are and our perspective of the world.

At a time in England’s history, when exploration for gold and glory paralleled the exploration of new religious doctrines, by people who were constantly seeking higher satisfaction, Elizabethan writer Thomas Dekker also found in himself what was being reflected in society. He was never content with his work. He was relentless, to the point of careless mediocrity, and he concluded that humans “are ne’er like angels till our passion dies.” When Dekker speaks of angels, he refers to the goodness that lies within every person, and our ability to transcend our self-destructive desires. As angels, Thomas Dekker implies that man would be free from evil and pain, from passions that take hold of us and bind us in chains. A similar point of view concerning human nature is Rousseau’s idea that, “man is born free, but everywhere he is in chains.” As with Dekker, Rousseau finds man’s natural desires are somehow the cause of narrow-minded, selfish, and limited thinking. In his age, Dekker saw passions as misdirected and the source of every flaw in susceptible people. Thomas Dekker believes that our passions represent everything that is condemned. However, he knows that our passions will never go away, thus humans will never be angels. Perfection and purity will never be attained. We are confined, as humans, to moral corruption and mortality.

What about the good that can come from passion? While Dekker believed it contributed to the loss of godly principles, William Butler Yeats, a notable dramatist in the 20th Century, believed emotions allowed us to connect with our spirituality. He goes further to say that man’s intuitive logic comes from the “heart”, or rather the deepest part of our souls. “The only business of the head in the world is to bow to ceaseless obeisance to the heart”, depicts the notion that everyone is initially guided by their emotional feelings, and that humans observe the world through their passions, and desires. It also hints at the idea that it is not up to humans to prove everything or to know everything through mere logic; our intellectual and philosophical thinking is to be guided by our morality.

Thomas Dekker believed passion leads to all the evil and suffering humans are subjected to and that we should strive to rid ourselves of it, while Yeats believes that this same passion is something humans should accept, and something we should let guide even our logic. Both recognize that if our understanding of human nature is correct, our passions will never leave us. Humans have learned that whether passions are a blight or treasure, no one is ever alone in their affections, aspirations, and ambitions.

A heavy metal elder and an instant friend

Today, I thought I'd bring you guys a more positive, uplifting post, as opposed to the usual dark or politically-motivated pieces. The light isn't always present, and it's not something that is as interesting to talk about as the darkness and world-wide spectrum of life. But then there's those times when the light is so strong... and you can't deny it. It could be a simple kind gesture that someone made to you, or it could be a new, strong trust made. It could be anything.

It happened for me today.

I was in class, doing work for my group Aftermath which I'm started within my school, as opposed to doing a review for an exam I have today. What can I say, I was so excited from when I got things settled down and structured with my group supervisor! I also learned that she loved System of a Down. Who'd have known a lady in her late 40's to early 50's (I can't ask a lady for her age) would like rebellious music? Anyway, that's just the minor thing that made me smile today. That's not the bigger part.

Back to being in class: I was really bored after finishing the structure plans for Aftermath's first meeting in February, so I asked my teacher if I could leave class to get something from a vending machine. She said yes, and she gave me the attendance list to take to the attendance office on my way. I left, took the list to the office, and headed straight for the vending machine.

When I got to the vending machine, I saw this black-haired, dark-skinned girl putting in some change into the machine, and just as the bag of chips she selected was falling out, she started pushing the vending machine like crazy. After she did so, I asked her why she did it, and she said it was so that she could get two bags. She didn't get two bags, but she was almost there! I told her I wanted to try as well, so I did. We waited until the teachers weren't looking in order for me to start.

I had put in a twoonie ($2 Canadian coin, for my international readers) into the vending machine, and proceeded to watch the teachers as I was "working my magic." I wanted the Lay's All Dressed chips. So, we kept rocking the machine for a bit, and we didn't get caught. That is, until I lost my guard. When I lost my guard, a teacher caught me and her and they said, "Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?!" Lying, I said, "I have a spare..." (a spare course period, that is). He started yelling at us to go, so me and her started running off. I was upset that the vending machine didn't give me any chips.

Me and her ran behind some hall doors, and we just started talking from there. She also gave me some of her chips. Strangely, I asked her to hang out for a bit with me in the halls. I don't regret my "forwardness" in this case. Seriously, we had everything in common, except for the fact that she's from Pakistan, and I'm from Iraq. But everything else... the way we react to strangers, our favourite kinds of chips, our favourite school subjects, and lots of other things that we like.... it pretty much all matched up! I eventually told her my name, and she told me her name. I don't know how to spell it, but it sounds like who-ma. So, I'm assuming it's spelled like Houmma or Homma.

She eventually had to get to class, but right before then, we discovered we have the same lunch period! I had to leave to class too, but oh well... it was definitely worth the ride! I never instantly became good friends with anyone in 30 minutes! The world still has it's delightful surprises.

Has anything like this ever happened to you? Please tell us your stories!

If the world was colour blind

I sat here in the darkness, waiting for your call
But if the world was colour blind,
I wouldn't have waited to hear nothing at all
I promised you we'd never be apart
But if the world was colour blind
I'd never have broken that part
It feels like centuries
since I've lost that part of me
And what I've convinced myself to be truth
was all along just blasphemy
If I hadn't lied
and if the world was colour blind
then maybe I wouldn't feel so hollow inside
and you wouldn't have committed suicide

This is a poem I wrote some months ago. I just found it last night in my cabinet (with a million other lost pieces). What I'd like you to do is answer me this.... what do you think the story behind this piece is? What relevence does it have to your life?

A new year and old origins

Happy new year, everybody! Please use this post as a means to tell me what you did on New Year's Eve! Personally, I didn't really do much of anything. I have what you call "compulsive blogging syndrome." Fuck you for getting me addicted, Blogspot!

Anyway, I thought I'd also kind of spend this time to explain a bit about ATWKS. You see, some of the coolest things in the world don't have a name that fits them, and thus, they don't have a more "true" feel. What I'm about to explain to you is the "power" of ATWKS, and the silly shit behind it.

It was a few years ago, and I was an avid member of a lovely board called TeenVogue Forums. I pretty much posted there like a demon, and I certainly don't post there as much as I used to, though I still post there regularly. The relevence is that this is where ATWKS came together. Anyway, I remember one day that I asked the girls to come up for a name for some kind of organization, and there were some pretty interesting names and sources for the names. A 13-year-old suggested "and the world keeps spinning." Guess what the source of the name was?

Britney Spears' song "Lucky."

No fucking kidding. Here's a verse from the song:

Lost in an image, in a dream
But there's no one there to wake her up
And the world is spinning, and she keeps on winning
But tell me what happens when it stops?
They go…
"Isn't she lovely, this Hollywood girl?"
And they say…

Okay, the "keeps" part isn't there, but the girl who made the name suggested that was the source. Close enough.

You might think I'd have to be a Britney Spears fan to accept a title with that source, but that's not the reason. In fact, I condemned Britney from my TV ever since I knew how to think for myself. The real reason why I loved the name so much is because it describes everything in life so perfectly. You can become a drug addict, the most famous person ever, or an asshole like me who spends 99% of her time writing or playing video games, and even then, with or without you, the world keeps spinning. Basically, you don't exist to anyone but yourself. I'm no existentialist, but it's so true to life.

Thanks for reading, and remember to get plenty of rest, unlike me.

The Seamy Side of History

It's a really great read, written by Honore De Balzac. His writings about French society are truly compelling and insightful. Its almost like you really are walking under the "shadowy breath of the Notre Dame". Anyways...

My Favorites of 2007:

In the literature category- A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini

As for music - What Goes Around Comes Around by Justin Timberlake (okay shoot me)

Now for movies! - Across the Universe or We Own the Night......There Will Be Blood had a lot of potential, but the story was flatter than a pancake............or Atonement with Kiera Knightly or Sweeney Todd.....sorry, its really hard for me to pick when it comes to movies

Magazines - Vogue the December issue or Nylon the September issue

Person of the Year - Me of course.....no haha...umm probably Barack Obama, even though I don't want to see him get elected in 2008, he still made a nice name for himself and I do like him.

What about you?

Everything of value I learned, I learned from my mother.

I can honestly tell you right now that my father has had next to no impact on who I am today in comparison to my mother. My mother; a refugee and a daughter to refugees, has to be one of the most amazing and wise people around. She's taught me everything I needed to know about life from a very young age. Because of her, I already feel I know who I am, while other people my age still feel confused. I feel old because of all the experiences drawn from her, but I feel young at the same time.

How do you guys feel about your relationship with your parents, whether you're living with them or not?

It's my birthday, so I guess that's why I thought of this. I love my mother, despite our large differences.

I can't wait for the blackberry cheesecake today.

New years resolutions

Ahh, it's almost that time of the year again where you find yourself thinking about the future, since we're shifting into a new year. You've got everything that you want to change, several things you need to change, and only 1 or 2 things that you're actually willing to change. At this point, the trick is just getting the courage to say no to the things that don't matter. Getting rid of your excess acne? No, don't give a shit. Becoming a more "likeable" person? Too bad, can't please everyone. Losing that 50 pounds of excess fat that is a bitch to carry around all day? FUCK YES. If you don't lose it now, it'll be harder to lose it later.

My resolution for this year is to lose the weight I've gained, join some kind of sport team and be dedicated to it, and to try to make myself happier. I feel I've been focusing too much on other people's feelings, and it's just becoming a drain. Sometimes, you just need to let go of everything, and to hold yourself above it all.

What's your new years resolution? What are some of the most rediculous you've ever heard? What are some of the best resolutions you've ever heard?

Blogging - a waste of time, or another way to sell?

The past few days have been quite fun, with the exception of last Friday 'noon. Me and my brother have been doing more things together that range farther from the usual, like watching MMA, using the computer, and watching TV. We've actually been going outside together and having fun, regardless of the little we actually have accomplished. It didn't matter whether we bought anything; whether we found that TV that we wanted to buy, whether we got the movies we wanted to rent, or anything of that sort, even though such things were the premise of us even doing something new together anyway. It was the interesting conversations we've had for hours on the busses and city benches that were most valuable to me.

One really interesting conversation that I had with my brother happened last night, when we were on a city bus to the downtown area of the city, where the big shopping plaza is. My brother had told me that he thinks my hobby of having debates on the internet is a waste of time. He labelled me an "iWarrior."

What is an iWarrior, you ask? An iWarrior, according to him, is a person who, on the internet, looks for a debate on a specific topic, finds an opinion that differs from theirs, and calls the person with the differing opinion a moron or a dumbass. He says that iWarriors include bloggers, such as myself.

How is a blogger an "iWarrior"? He says that bloggers are iWarriors because they're trying to sell an opinion, and not just the facts that enable a person to decide for themselves what is right and what is wrong.

He's wrong, and yet, he's right.

Mature bloggers, such as myself and the other two fabulous ladies at ATWKS are not "iWarriors," per se, but rather just opinionated ladies. We're telling our side of the story, but we're not going to call you a dumbass, because we're requesting your comments. We want to hear from you. Every time I get a little message in my hotmail account that says someone has actually spent their time reading my material, and every time it becomes apparent that they've learned something valuable, something special from me, it puts a smile on my face.

However, he's not completely wrong. Yes, bloggers are selling an opinion, and there's pretty much no way to deny it. I sell my opinion for the reason I stated in the previous paragraph. Authors sell opinions in their books. Religious authorities, because they are individuals, sell opinions. Jehova's witnesses sell their opinions to you right at your doorstep.

You can't go anywhere these days without someone selling an opinion in some way or another, so why can't I sell mine on a blog?

Reflections on "Popular" Music and Artists

I am listening to the Top Hits of 2007, and the first thing I notice is that out of the compendium of 98 songs, a solid majority of them follow the same tune and pattern, related to each other's works.

Kanye's and 50 Cent's techno-vibrations behind a few spewed, forced, and uncreative rhymes, which the new age, futuristic beats make up for or completely hide. There was an obvious trend toward Timbaland-sounding productions, and it is important to note that he was behind a lot of the top hits. Justin Timberlake, Nelly Furtado, and OneRepublic just to name a few. Chris Brown, with Kiss Kiss, and Britney Spears with Gimme More followed suite with this sound. Instead of putting emphasis on the lyrics, these hits seem to do away with them all together, focusing the listener on who can come up with the most unique, techno-convoluted beats. Anyways, back to Kanye and 50 Cent - I don't think any two artists have bigger ego-trips than these two, or rather, there aren't too many more artists out there that are so egotistical in their music. We have P. Diddy, but he didn't make the list, which is surprising, but I think his songs are for crap. He will oversee a hundred artists, put them on his label, and all of them will have the same look, style, and voice. The women will be sexed-up poster ads for the "ghetto fabulous", and the guys will all have half-naked girls in their videos, speaking of "booty" and "partying" and "mazaratis" with "30 inch rims".

Speaking of "booty", you have tracks like "This Is Why I Am Hot" by MIMS and "Crank That (Soulja Boy)", "Lean Like A Cholo", and "Party Like A Rockstar", which all basically speak of one thing. Their lyrics are horrendous. I imagine that them and their little posse and "gangster" friends sit down, search their puny minds for something to say, try to find words that "match" (I emphasize this, because some of them have really bad rhyming skills and they go with words that "just go"), and then put them together like third-graders putting together Mickey Mouse puzzles, and say them with a little tinge of the voice, a little lofty melody in the background, and "tada!" you have your number one hit.

Alright, moving on. Fergie, of course. Rihanna, Taylor Swift. All rather annoying, but they created songs that personally are "catchy". They made songs that play on FM radio like its no one's business, and thus everyone's business. However, going back to OneRepublic.....their song, Apologize, in collaboration with Timbaland, had the record for the number one played hit on the radio.

Don't get me started on "Hey There Delilah". I love that song, but I can only take so much of it. Perhaps, because me, like my fellow teenagers, have an attention span of about ten minutes maximum. We constantly want to hear new songs, new tunes. A track that was released last month is seen as old "old".

Anyways, take a look at the hits this year. You have The Killers, Mika, The Fratellis, The Arctic Monkeys, Paul McCartney, Reba, Kelly Clarkson, and even foreign artists. I will have to admit. I like alot of these artists, and I don't care if they are mainstream or "sell-outs" or "posers" (with the exception of Avril Lavigne....really don't like her music). I really don't care. Green Day was on the list with their adaptation of "Working Class Hero" by John Lennon. I love Green Day.

So, what do you think?

The Race Card

It is possibly the most overused excuse for failures in anything, and it's really pissing me off. There's a thing in life called "responsibility," and some people still need to learn to take it. However, wouldn't it be awesome if there was a flag that took away one's ability to use the card for 2 weeks when they misuse it? If only things could be a little like this....

Now it's story time.

It was a cold and brisk winter afternoon, when my mother and I left our shop (we owned some variety stores in the past) and were looking to go home to some nice hot cups of tea after a hard day's work. We waited for the bus to come to our stop, and it came. "Bus 34 is here, mom!" I exclaimed excitedly. We were real busy that day, and worked real hard, so you can see where my excitement came from. Anyway, the bus came eventually, and we got in our seats.

As me and my mom were sitting and waiting for the bus to finish loading up all of the passengers so that the driver could leave, a lady went up to pay the driver, and her boyfriend sat in one of the seats. Seemed usual. However, then he looked at her and said, "Sorry, I can't let you on. You're $0.10 short."

And then she just totally set loose. The first words out of her mouth were, "You're just not letting me in because I'm black!" The driver explained many times that it wasn't because she was black, but because she was short on change. How hard is that to get? But honestly, I mostly just felt sorry for her boyfriend, who put on a faint smile and had his head down in shame.

Please tell me your stories of instances where you've seen the race card being played for no good reason.

The music that inspires you

Everyone's got "their song," "their album," "their band," so on and so forth. Whether the music touches them in a spiritual sense, makes them want to dance, makes them relax or focus, or makes them see things in an introspective manner, there is always something in their brain that tells them "this appeals to me." And, with modern mainstream (the popular) music being absolute shit in my opinion, I can't help but wonder what purpose such music serves to our generation.

My questions are as follows:

1. What kind of music do you listen to?
2. Do you put an emphasis on lyrics as being most important, music being most important, or both?
3. Do you read the lyrics to all/most of the songs you listen to on a regular basis?
4. What does the music you listen to inspire you to do?

Before You Think "Hippie"....

........watch The Story of Stuff to the end. Think what you want to think, believe what you want to believe, but if you are interested in listening to a solid perspective (whether it contradicts your own principles and belief system), attempt to gain something from it. It is about consumerism with Annie Leonard. Okay, granted, it seems like a bit of propaganda because while talking about consumerism and the environment, she also takes a definitive political viewpoint. However, this little movie is not meant, in my intentions, to persuade you to believe anything. It is about looking at one particular issue from all the many sides that surround it, and hopefully learning and becoming more convinced of what you believe is right.