I think I want to start a new company. This company would be a clothing company that supports communism. Why? It just seems like a good idea. Also, I think mildly confused teenagers would wear it thinking that they are making a profound statement about themselves, when in reality the general public knows that they have no idea of the implications. Just look at the surplus of Che shirts purchased at your local Hot Topic. Trust me...there is a market for my shirts.
It would be called "The Red Scare Clothing Company." I think it has a nice ring to it.
Am I Communist? No.
If I were around, would I have been totally pumped by the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917? Not Particularly.
Do I wanna make a quick buck by selling eccentric T-Shirts to high schoolers whom are in the process of finding their "true" identity? Of Course.
I have some good shirt ideas also. Close your eyes and pretend these are printed on a big red Hanes Beefy-T.
"You've Got A Friend In Me. And I've Got a Friend in Senator Joe McCarthy."
"Berlin Would Be For Lovers, Had They Not Gotten Rid of that Wall!"
"Seriously, is there anything that Capitalism hasn't ruined? I mean General Motors has been driven (pun intended) into the ground! Let's go back to the only ideology that mattered. I mean seriously...Communism was pretty legit."
"Russia had it right!"
"I hate Ed Hardy! But heart the Chinese Red Army!"
I do know that this won't be an easy task and also know that some dangers may arise in the future. The one that looms over my head the most is what happens if another Iron Curtain descends over Europe. America will then find itself in another battle against communism. If this happens, I'm most likely going to be tried for Sedition. Which really sucks cause I bet people like that get no respect in prison. People who murder someone can strike fear into the other inmates. I don't think anyone will be scared of someone who is in prison for saying stuff that the government particularly agree with. Not to mention the countless times I have to explain to people in the big house what Sedition even means.
Maybe I shouldn't do this after all.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
All Over The Place
My brother's wedding was last night. Weddings are absolutely beautiful. Everyone leaves their problems at the door and are there to celebrate two people dedicating their lives to one another. There is nothing like weddings, just like there is no place like airports. Do you know of a place where utter happiness and absolute despair co-exist in one place besides the airport?
Because of the wedding I am very happy for my brother. Yet, I find myself up late at night just being a big bag of mixed emotions.
Everywhere I look on the net there is something there to lead me into the next plane of thought.
If you wish to follow me:
Go to Dredg's myspace (myspace.com/dredg) and listen to their new song "I Don't Know" where they sing about how it is impossible to know truly what happens when you die. Since their is no way to understand what happens after you die, then you should just stop trying to find a real answer. Although I don't totally agree with it, it is interesting to think about should you choose to go down that path.
If you don't wish to do that. Then try to get some sleep. I know that I should but my brain won't shut off.
Because of the wedding I am very happy for my brother. Yet, I find myself up late at night just being a big bag of mixed emotions.
Everywhere I look on the net there is something there to lead me into the next plane of thought.
If you wish to follow me:
Go to Dredg's myspace (myspace.com/dredg) and listen to their new song "I Don't Know" where they sing about how it is impossible to know truly what happens when you die. Since their is no way to understand what happens after you die, then you should just stop trying to find a real answer. Although I don't totally agree with it, it is interesting to think about should you choose to go down that path.
If you don't wish to do that. Then try to get some sleep. I know that I should but my brain won't shut off.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Orality
This morning. I had some of my wisdom teeth pulled. Naturally I was a little worried seeing as how I don't like surgery. Weird huh?
The night before the surgery I decided to use the internet to find out just how long my recovery time might be. At first, I thought this was a mistake since I had stumbled upon some horror stories about people's jaws breaking during surgery. After a brief panic and trying to think of ways to get around my death at the hands of someone who statistically might already be having thoughts of suicide, I began to find some internet bloggers whom began to assure me that everything was going to be fine.
What intially made me so paranoid I found out was that I was looking on the wrong websites. Starting out with sites like Web M.D, I was only being barraged with the opinions of people above the age of 30. You know, people who are typically seen as "Mature Adults." This group of people seemed to be afraid of everything. Not only had they heard stories about jaws being broken during surgery, but that the medicine prescribed to them was causing them to slip into fortnight long comas. (I have always wanted to use fortnight in a sentence so back off.)
Yet, while the mature adults were mainly concerned with just living through the teeth pulling ordeal, I soon found that the younger generation of bloggers brought me more joy than I could have ever imagined to find on the internet.
Most of the younger generation of bloggers were mainly concerened with whether they could go to a party that night. They are well aware that the doctors urge patients to get plenty of rest and take good care of their mouths. Yet, social suicide appears to be more daunting to them than a wee bit of "Dry Socket." Also why sit and home and watch Turner Classic Movies hopped up on Vicodine, when you can just take the pills with your alcohol and play a little game called, "I hope I wake up in the morning." Although I knew these kids were quite stupid, their mildly educated words gave me comfort throughout the night.
When the surgery came around, I was ready. I was mentally prepared and convinced that I would walk out of the office feeling simply fantastic. This new mindset was quite comforting to me and it carried me all the way until I got into the actual chair and was shown a video about the things that "may go wrong" during the surgery.
Now I am all for patients being informed about all the prodding that a doctor will be inflicting on their body, but I feel as though it should be somewhat sugar coated unless otherwise specified by the patient.
The surgeon could have told me soon he would given me a lollipop that once I finished the entire treat that my teeth would have magically disappeared painfree and I would have been thrilled. Although I know it was a blatant lie, I would have appreciated the comfort and been happy that he wasn't too far along in his dental depression to still find the happiness to make a few quips.
However, he chose to show me a video that informed me that I may never again experience things such as: taste, feeling in my lips, sinus comfort, the ability to stop bleeding, the joy that comes from a beating heart, and other things of that nature. This litany of pain again put me in a state of discomfort. Yet, I found out the reason why they show you that film before the surgery. The reason is this, it really doesn't matter what they show you before the surgery because once they get the drugs in you, your thoughts don't matter.
As soon as I was mainlined with the morphine or whatever sedative was given to me, my fears just melted away. The only thing I remember of the surgery was that there were a couple of pairs of hands in my mouth at one time. Apparently the sedative was strong because I could not have been more delighted with the taste of latex and having my mouth stretched to its limits.
Once I came to, the surgery was over. My mouth was full of gauze and I could not believe that the surgery had concluded. I no longer cared about the macabre details of my surgery, I just told myself that the magical lollipop had abraded my mouth till it was raw.
In the end, you can spend all of your life fretting about surgery, or you just can fix your mind on things such as drugs. I know that sentence probably doesn't fly with parents or any of the bloggers over 30 on Web M.D. But, as long as the anesthetics are strong, worrying won't do you any good. Let's just be thankful that when we don't walk into a doctor's office they don't just hand us a bottle of hard alcohol and say, "Let's see what we can do." Cause in those days there is a good chance that that sentence really meant, "You should have probably just ignored the pain because I am most likely going to kill you."
P.S. - I know this joke is probably extremely old, but why are they called wisdom teeth? Cause when a dentist says, "You got some wisdom teeth coming in." We're sitting in the chair thinking, "Good, it's about time." So it's naturally a shock when they want to take them out.
I say from an early age the dentist should call these teeth, "Evil Death Teeth." Cause then patients would probably be more eager to try to get them extracted. Consequently, dentists would get paid more since more people would be lining up to get their, "Evil Death Teeth" taken away. That would boost the economy and we'll be out of this recession in no time.
See, you may find most of my posts to be vain and self-indulgent, but at least you'll have something to talk about at your next dinner party since pretty much the econonmy is all anyone talks about anymore.
The night before the surgery I decided to use the internet to find out just how long my recovery time might be. At first, I thought this was a mistake since I had stumbled upon some horror stories about people's jaws breaking during surgery. After a brief panic and trying to think of ways to get around my death at the hands of someone who statistically might already be having thoughts of suicide, I began to find some internet bloggers whom began to assure me that everything was going to be fine.
What intially made me so paranoid I found out was that I was looking on the wrong websites. Starting out with sites like Web M.D, I was only being barraged with the opinions of people above the age of 30. You know, people who are typically seen as "Mature Adults." This group of people seemed to be afraid of everything. Not only had they heard stories about jaws being broken during surgery, but that the medicine prescribed to them was causing them to slip into fortnight long comas. (I have always wanted to use fortnight in a sentence so back off.)
Yet, while the mature adults were mainly concerned with just living through the teeth pulling ordeal, I soon found that the younger generation of bloggers brought me more joy than I could have ever imagined to find on the internet.
Most of the younger generation of bloggers were mainly concerened with whether they could go to a party that night. They are well aware that the doctors urge patients to get plenty of rest and take good care of their mouths. Yet, social suicide appears to be more daunting to them than a wee bit of "Dry Socket." Also why sit and home and watch Turner Classic Movies hopped up on Vicodine, when you can just take the pills with your alcohol and play a little game called, "I hope I wake up in the morning." Although I knew these kids were quite stupid, their mildly educated words gave me comfort throughout the night.
When the surgery came around, I was ready. I was mentally prepared and convinced that I would walk out of the office feeling simply fantastic. This new mindset was quite comforting to me and it carried me all the way until I got into the actual chair and was shown a video about the things that "may go wrong" during the surgery.
Now I am all for patients being informed about all the prodding that a doctor will be inflicting on their body, but I feel as though it should be somewhat sugar coated unless otherwise specified by the patient.
The surgeon could have told me soon he would given me a lollipop that once I finished the entire treat that my teeth would have magically disappeared painfree and I would have been thrilled. Although I know it was a blatant lie, I would have appreciated the comfort and been happy that he wasn't too far along in his dental depression to still find the happiness to make a few quips.
However, he chose to show me a video that informed me that I may never again experience things such as: taste, feeling in my lips, sinus comfort, the ability to stop bleeding, the joy that comes from a beating heart, and other things of that nature. This litany of pain again put me in a state of discomfort. Yet, I found out the reason why they show you that film before the surgery. The reason is this, it really doesn't matter what they show you before the surgery because once they get the drugs in you, your thoughts don't matter.
As soon as I was mainlined with the morphine or whatever sedative was given to me, my fears just melted away. The only thing I remember of the surgery was that there were a couple of pairs of hands in my mouth at one time. Apparently the sedative was strong because I could not have been more delighted with the taste of latex and having my mouth stretched to its limits.
Once I came to, the surgery was over. My mouth was full of gauze and I could not believe that the surgery had concluded. I no longer cared about the macabre details of my surgery, I just told myself that the magical lollipop had abraded my mouth till it was raw.
In the end, you can spend all of your life fretting about surgery, or you just can fix your mind on things such as drugs. I know that sentence probably doesn't fly with parents or any of the bloggers over 30 on Web M.D. But, as long as the anesthetics are strong, worrying won't do you any good. Let's just be thankful that when we don't walk into a doctor's office they don't just hand us a bottle of hard alcohol and say, "Let's see what we can do." Cause in those days there is a good chance that that sentence really meant, "You should have probably just ignored the pain because I am most likely going to kill you."
P.S. - I know this joke is probably extremely old, but why are they called wisdom teeth? Cause when a dentist says, "You got some wisdom teeth coming in." We're sitting in the chair thinking, "Good, it's about time." So it's naturally a shock when they want to take them out.
I say from an early age the dentist should call these teeth, "Evil Death Teeth." Cause then patients would probably be more eager to try to get them extracted. Consequently, dentists would get paid more since more people would be lining up to get their, "Evil Death Teeth" taken away. That would boost the economy and we'll be out of this recession in no time.
See, you may find most of my posts to be vain and self-indulgent, but at least you'll have something to talk about at your next dinner party since pretty much the econonmy is all anyone talks about anymore.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Faith and Sports
I have never been a big fan of Mother Teresa. Before some of you get upset, hear me out. All of my life I have never known anything about mother Teresa other than she was supposedly a wonderful human being. Upon hearing these comments I then immediately went back to thinking about whatever I was or was not doing at the time. (Eating A Bagel, Writing My Memoir, Skin Grafting)
I believe it be due to proximity. I had never encountered this lady or anyone whom she had personal contact with. This coupled with the fact that most of her work was done in Calcutta meant that other than a brief reference from a teacher, I knew nothing of her.
My relationship with Mother Teresa was akin to my relationship to Larry Bird. I have heard from some people that there was a basketball player named Larry Bird. On top of this, I have heard that he was an amazing basketball player. However, I do not know anybody whom has been to a game that Bird played in. Nor have I ever watched a Celtics game in my entire life. I also don't think I was mentally stable enough at the age of seven to see one of his last games in 1992. Therefore, he is this distant figure, whom I personally know nothing about but have heard nothing but great things. Just like Mother Teresa.
(By the way, this may be my only sports reference that you will ever see in this blog and I'm sorry it wasn't more obscure for you avid sports fans. I know that Larry Bird is the go to guy for white losers like me, while names such as "Pistol" Pete Maravich and Bill Russell would have put a smile on the faces of those whom are probably too busy checking their fantasy sports teams rather than appreciating this blog.)
Anyway, Now that I have clearly established a strained relationship with Agnes(her first name), I have recently realized what an amazing woman that she was.
Aside from living on Time Magazine's list of 100 most influential people, her name is used in daily conversation as if it were synonymous with perfect. We have all heard sentences uttered such as, "Who do you think you are? Mother Teresa?" While her name is good for serving the purpose to make people feel bad for trying to do something nice for once in their lives, I have recently come to discover that what makes her beautiful is not her perfection, but how outspoken she was about her imperfection.
A while back, an article was written about her in the aforementioned Time Magazine. While this is one of her nearly hundred of appearances in this magazine, this was trumpeted as the defining moment in how the public should view her. Her diary that she requested to be burned after her death, was put in the church's hands and given over to the people. In in, she chronicled correspondence that she had with a particular individual in which she expressed that she had times in her life where she did not feel God's presence. She once wrote, “In my own soul, I feel the terrible pain of this loss. I feel that God does not want me, that God is not God and that he does not really exist.” (Religionnewsblog.com)
CNN also dedicated serious time to this discovery. They paraded this diary around as if it were proof that someone such as Mother Teresa was not perfect. This crisis in faith was now the definitive proof that a self proclaimed woman of God was not and could never be perfect.
I know that I am a little late on this train, but reading into the story more, I don't think I could ever be more encouraged than I am right now.
There was a woman, whom felt that God was calling her to live and feed the homeless in Calcutta. Not only did she do it, but she wasn't perfect. She had the same feelings that all of us have. Christians, Non Christians, Agnostics, Whomever. She questioned her very nature on this earth. She was not bestowed with supernatural gifts that made her impervious to pain. She hurt so bad that she constantly felt that this God who called her there may not have even existed.
To me, she is now finally someone I can tangibly empathize with. She won't be used in any of my sentences to ridicule someone for trying to live within the realm of unattainable perfection.
Does that mean that all of my bags are packed and I am ready to move to Calcutta tomorrow to carry on her work? No
Because as of now I am not as strong of a person as she was. But it is within my reach and anyone else's for that matter.
Anyone on this planet can make an immense difference and bring joy and love to those who seem so far from it. We may all need to grow a bit, but it is within our reach.
That is how I was encouraged by by Mother Teresa today.
I know it's like beating a dead horse, but she was a pretty amazing lady.
I do believe that God is there. That Jesus Christ died for our sins. That there is love in this world. That we can experience love on a daily basis, even when it seems like there is nothing there. I don't believe that all the time because sometimes I have bad days, but I try the best I can.
We just need to step outside of ourselves sometimes to feel it.
I believe it be due to proximity. I had never encountered this lady or anyone whom she had personal contact with. This coupled with the fact that most of her work was done in Calcutta meant that other than a brief reference from a teacher, I knew nothing of her.
My relationship with Mother Teresa was akin to my relationship to Larry Bird. I have heard from some people that there was a basketball player named Larry Bird. On top of this, I have heard that he was an amazing basketball player. However, I do not know anybody whom has been to a game that Bird played in. Nor have I ever watched a Celtics game in my entire life. I also don't think I was mentally stable enough at the age of seven to see one of his last games in 1992. Therefore, he is this distant figure, whom I personally know nothing about but have heard nothing but great things. Just like Mother Teresa.
(By the way, this may be my only sports reference that you will ever see in this blog and I'm sorry it wasn't more obscure for you avid sports fans. I know that Larry Bird is the go to guy for white losers like me, while names such as "Pistol" Pete Maravich and Bill Russell would have put a smile on the faces of those whom are probably too busy checking their fantasy sports teams rather than appreciating this blog.)
Anyway, Now that I have clearly established a strained relationship with Agnes(her first name), I have recently realized what an amazing woman that she was.
Aside from living on Time Magazine's list of 100 most influential people, her name is used in daily conversation as if it were synonymous with perfect. We have all heard sentences uttered such as, "Who do you think you are? Mother Teresa?" While her name is good for serving the purpose to make people feel bad for trying to do something nice for once in their lives, I have recently come to discover that what makes her beautiful is not her perfection, but how outspoken she was about her imperfection.
A while back, an article was written about her in the aforementioned Time Magazine. While this is one of her nearly hundred of appearances in this magazine, this was trumpeted as the defining moment in how the public should view her. Her diary that she requested to be burned after her death, was put in the church's hands and given over to the people. In in, she chronicled correspondence that she had with a particular individual in which she expressed that she had times in her life where she did not feel God's presence. She once wrote, “In my own soul, I feel the terrible pain of this loss. I feel that God does not want me, that God is not God and that he does not really exist.” (Religionnewsblog.com)
CNN also dedicated serious time to this discovery. They paraded this diary around as if it were proof that someone such as Mother Teresa was not perfect. This crisis in faith was now the definitive proof that a self proclaimed woman of God was not and could never be perfect.
I know that I am a little late on this train, but reading into the story more, I don't think I could ever be more encouraged than I am right now.
There was a woman, whom felt that God was calling her to live and feed the homeless in Calcutta. Not only did she do it, but she wasn't perfect. She had the same feelings that all of us have. Christians, Non Christians, Agnostics, Whomever. She questioned her very nature on this earth. She was not bestowed with supernatural gifts that made her impervious to pain. She hurt so bad that she constantly felt that this God who called her there may not have even existed.
To me, she is now finally someone I can tangibly empathize with. She won't be used in any of my sentences to ridicule someone for trying to live within the realm of unattainable perfection.
Does that mean that all of my bags are packed and I am ready to move to Calcutta tomorrow to carry on her work? No
Because as of now I am not as strong of a person as she was. But it is within my reach and anyone else's for that matter.
Anyone on this planet can make an immense difference and bring joy and love to those who seem so far from it. We may all need to grow a bit, but it is within our reach.
That is how I was encouraged by by Mother Teresa today.
I know it's like beating a dead horse, but she was a pretty amazing lady.
I do believe that God is there. That Jesus Christ died for our sins. That there is love in this world. That we can experience love on a daily basis, even when it seems like there is nothing there. I don't believe that all the time because sometimes I have bad days, but I try the best I can.
We just need to step outside of ourselves sometimes to feel it.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Being Difficult, Being 20: Part 1: You Cannot Always Get What You Want
College is done. It has been finished for some time. As I sit here now I currently hold a degree, yet I hold no clue as to what I am to be doing in the future.
I also know that as I sit here I am and desire to always be special, not your average run of the mill. I know that my last sentence is one that everyone on the planet says to themselves numerous times during their lives, even if it is subconsciously.
It seems to me that we all desire to live better than those around us because the best way to know your worth is by comparing yourself to your peers. In turn, that desire causes us to do crazy things to set ourselves apart. i.e: go to college, write a book, start a blog, and so on.
Cause when we go to college and make plans for our future, or finally put that pen to paper, it reassures us that we will not go unnoticed. We will not rot behind a desk at a company that cares nothing for me. I will not watch my passion for life dwindle. I will not, I will not, I will not...
I want to be noticed, and it has never been more apparent until I graduated from college. Cause after college what do you do? You get a job, just like everyone else and you rot away.
I have honestly had two thoughts that have run through my head ever since I graduated.
1) I need to get back into college
2) I should write a book
When your growing up it is easy to set yourself apart from the rest. Hence why there are clicks. Your are athletic or your into music and art. While you have have a small group of cronies whom have the same interests as you, your still unique. Your an amazing athlete with so much promise, or you like magic trading cards and listening to black metal while the adults around you feel that you are going through, "a bit of a phase."
Once college hits, you carry that promise with you. College sparks all kinds of interests and experimentation. You find yourself picketing for minority rights out in front of your college bookstore or taking a class on things that you never imagined one could study. You are just...you.
Yet, when you finally exit your college years. Things get a bit tricky. This is the time when your "supposed" to get a job. This "job" thing is the very same thing that your parents have. Not only your parents, but those kids whom you went to high school with that you felt never measured up to their "true potential." To most people in their early 20's, a job means that you suit up and sell out.
However, if you truly wish to circumvent this seemingly tragic ending. There are steps you can take and they are two-fold.
1) Go Back To College
2) Write a Book
Looking at option one is indeed a daunting task. Not only does your sense of accomplishment for having getting your BA go down the drain since their are new goals ahead of you, but it is also a really hard task getting into graduate school. Especially in this economy.
So if your like me, you are currently looking at option two.
However, in my next installment I will look at how this isn't an easy option either.
I also know that as I sit here I am and desire to always be special, not your average run of the mill. I know that my last sentence is one that everyone on the planet says to themselves numerous times during their lives, even if it is subconsciously.
It seems to me that we all desire to live better than those around us because the best way to know your worth is by comparing yourself to your peers. In turn, that desire causes us to do crazy things to set ourselves apart. i.e: go to college, write a book, start a blog, and so on.
Cause when we go to college and make plans for our future, or finally put that pen to paper, it reassures us that we will not go unnoticed. We will not rot behind a desk at a company that cares nothing for me. I will not watch my passion for life dwindle. I will not, I will not, I will not...
I want to be noticed, and it has never been more apparent until I graduated from college. Cause after college what do you do? You get a job, just like everyone else and you rot away.
I have honestly had two thoughts that have run through my head ever since I graduated.
1) I need to get back into college
2) I should write a book
When your growing up it is easy to set yourself apart from the rest. Hence why there are clicks. Your are athletic or your into music and art. While you have have a small group of cronies whom have the same interests as you, your still unique. Your an amazing athlete with so much promise, or you like magic trading cards and listening to black metal while the adults around you feel that you are going through, "a bit of a phase."
Once college hits, you carry that promise with you. College sparks all kinds of interests and experimentation. You find yourself picketing for minority rights out in front of your college bookstore or taking a class on things that you never imagined one could study. You are just...you.
Yet, when you finally exit your college years. Things get a bit tricky. This is the time when your "supposed" to get a job. This "job" thing is the very same thing that your parents have. Not only your parents, but those kids whom you went to high school with that you felt never measured up to their "true potential." To most people in their early 20's, a job means that you suit up and sell out.
However, if you truly wish to circumvent this seemingly tragic ending. There are steps you can take and they are two-fold.
1) Go Back To College
2) Write a Book
Looking at option one is indeed a daunting task. Not only does your sense of accomplishment for having getting your BA go down the drain since their are new goals ahead of you, but it is also a really hard task getting into graduate school. Especially in this economy.
So if your like me, you are currently looking at option two.
However, in my next installment I will look at how this isn't an easy option either.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
We Will Overcome!
Recently, I have just been really annoyed by all the hatred that is being spit by anyone who claims to be interested in politics.
Check out some of these soundbites I have recently heard from random bystanders in the past couple of days.
"Obama is change, he is love, and you republicans can go eat a horse and fall in a toilet!"
Or
"Tradition is best! It is what makes this country what it is! I hate everything and everyone that doesn't line up with my view."
Or
"Friday the 13th is the worse horror film remake on the planet! Thank goodness everyone in the film died cause if I saw their nasty faces in anymore films, I think I would do myself in!"
While all of these quotes are false because I just made them up right now, and the third quote really doesn't fit into the whole argument at all, they represent this type of hate and anger that I am seeing everywhere I look.
I am really good at ignoring things and letting them build up inside me and although I hear stress isn't good for you per se, if your good at something, why quit?
However, I was perusing my locally owned organic bookstore, Borders, and I happen to come across the answer to mine and American's problems. In fact, this cure all is so effective that not only will I no longer have to deal with everyone else spitting hate everywhere, but I will no longer have to be a ticking time bomb of stress.
So, What is this answer to all the world's ills?
It is Chuck Norris's brand new book!
This is no joke, this is life changing.
Just check out the reviews on the amazon.com page. They are glowing.
This is the answer!
Post all of your thank you's in the replies.
Check out some of these soundbites I have recently heard from random bystanders in the past couple of days.
"Obama is change, he is love, and you republicans can go eat a horse and fall in a toilet!"
Or
"Tradition is best! It is what makes this country what it is! I hate everything and everyone that doesn't line up with my view."
Or
"Friday the 13th is the worse horror film remake on the planet! Thank goodness everyone in the film died cause if I saw their nasty faces in anymore films, I think I would do myself in!"
While all of these quotes are false because I just made them up right now, and the third quote really doesn't fit into the whole argument at all, they represent this type of hate and anger that I am seeing everywhere I look.
I am really good at ignoring things and letting them build up inside me and although I hear stress isn't good for you per se, if your good at something, why quit?
However, I was perusing my locally owned organic bookstore, Borders, and I happen to come across the answer to mine and American's problems. In fact, this cure all is so effective that not only will I no longer have to deal with everyone else spitting hate everywhere, but I will no longer have to be a ticking time bomb of stress.
So, What is this answer to all the world's ills?
It is Chuck Norris's brand new book!
This is no joke, this is life changing.
Just check out the reviews on the amazon.com page. They are glowing.
This is the answer!
Post all of your thank you's in the replies.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Books
I love books. They are one of the things that makes me feel alive. Television, while enjoyable, only truly succeeds in numbing me. That is not to take away from amazing television shows such as Ellen or Buffy the Vampire Slayer, they don't hold a candle to books.
As much as I like the challenge of taking on big books, I usually choose them because I have a really hard time enjoying small ones. Not only does it take me a hundred pages or so to truly become invested in a book, but I like to visit these characters on a daily basis.
I just finished Philip Norman's lengthy biography of John Lennon. Being a big Beatles fan, I already knew how John's life came to a tragic end. Yet, for the weeks that I was reading John's everyday life, I always knew that when I got home from work he would be there waiting for me. It is books like these that make me appreciate redundancy, because sometimes it is necessary in order to put of reaching the end.
Finally, when I did close the final page, it really broke my heart that not only was John murdered, but my journey with him ended on that last page. It really made me feel like I knew the guy. Whether or not he was actually how he was portrayed by the author doesn't matter. I just really appreciated hanging out with John for the last bit of my life.
All I know is that I like big books.
I hope this makes sense to somebody.
As much as I like the challenge of taking on big books, I usually choose them because I have a really hard time enjoying small ones. Not only does it take me a hundred pages or so to truly become invested in a book, but I like to visit these characters on a daily basis.
I just finished Philip Norman's lengthy biography of John Lennon. Being a big Beatles fan, I already knew how John's life came to a tragic end. Yet, for the weeks that I was reading John's everyday life, I always knew that when I got home from work he would be there waiting for me. It is books like these that make me appreciate redundancy, because sometimes it is necessary in order to put of reaching the end.
Finally, when I did close the final page, it really broke my heart that not only was John murdered, but my journey with him ended on that last page. It really made me feel like I knew the guy. Whether or not he was actually how he was portrayed by the author doesn't matter. I just really appreciated hanging out with John for the last bit of my life.
All I know is that I like big books.
I hope this makes sense to somebody.
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