When I was coming back from school I had every intention of creating a blog post which consisted of a review of my first year in college. This will not be the case today, as what I have to say now is much more important to get out of the way. For the following, when I refer to my Grandma and Grandpa, I mean those that gave rise to my mother, not my father.
Dannielle, aka Grandma
No college education, stay at home mom since 1964
While at times illogical about money, she is one of the best people you could ever know. She raised me almost single handedly after my dad left (I dont know exactly when he left, but I know it was pretty soon after I came into this world). My mom worked quite a ways north of here at the time, and could not afford a day care service. Her only option was to first drive out of her way to my Grandma's house and stick me there for the day before going to work. My Grandma raised me well though, I have very few complaints. The only thing that really sticks out right now is when I was accused (falsely I might add) and punished for breaking a lamp. But that is one, only one event that I can think of, out of the decade that I spent with her. I would call that mission success.
Theodor, aka Grandpa
B.S. in Physics from Heidelberg College in Ohio, Doctorate in Medicine from Case Western.
Out of all the people that I know in the world, there are few people that I respect more than him. I am frequently told that I behave just like him (before the Alzheimers), which is exactly how I choose to remember him. When I was in 9th grade, my Grandpa had a stroke that got him in the hospital, and he's never been quite the same since then. Because of that he hasn't been such a good person to my Grandma. There hasn't been anything physical, but there has been alot of arguing, and then he forgets about the argument, so they have it again, and again, and again. This has made being with them unbearable as not only is that house in a state of constant anguish, but I can only see my Grandpa fall into the torment that is what is left of his once profound mind. I cannot bear to speak anymore of this subject.
Mary Anne, aka my mom
Bachelors in Psychology from Randolph Macon (recently made top 10 party schools in the country, she is greatly proud of this)
I usually resisted going home from my grandma's house after my mom would come back from work, but if I tried hard we would sometimes end up having dinner there. My mom sent me to an elementary school that was right by my grandma's house, even though there was a perfectly good school just down the road. And by just down the road, I mean walk out the front door, take a right on the sidewalk, and walk for about half a mile. There you go, a school. I wasn't supposed to talk to anybody about where I really lived since I wasn't supposed to be going to Farmland Elementary. I have no idea how she got around that, maybe stated in some papers that I lived with my Grandma. After third grade though, my Grandma was going to France too much to be able to reliably take care of me after school. I was sent to a residential day care (run by two drunks) after school. Every day I wish I could forget what happened within those walls. But I will not go into this, as this paragraph is supposed to be about my mom, the oh-great-leader of this house. Now is time for a quick question. that will eventually end in an analogy: What government has one central almighty leader, works the commam person to the point of insanity, continuously displays propoganda of how important the proletariat is for the good of everyone, and keeps a continuous watch on their subjects to ensure they do nothing that could be deemed questionable in any way? No, you are not mistaken, I did just badmouth the Soviet Union. But this is only because of the unparalleled correlation with the government here at home. For as long as I could remember, I was always happy to be with my mom. She fed me, clothed me, housed me, and would occasionally give me a gift for appearently no particular reason. I will get back to this in a moment. When I went to college, I got to experience freedom. I could do what I want, when I wanted, because I wanted to. I figured out what I needed to do to be happy, so when I'm at school I do it. I learned that I take great pleasure from interacting with my peers outside of the forced manner that is called the classroom. However, when I would leave high school after school, I always had to immediately go home, no pit stops, no staying after to ask a teacher a question, immediately go home. My mom would call at 2:49 every weekday. That is the precise time that I would get home. If I had a few too many red lights walking back, I had to run some of the way to make up for this lost time. If I was any amount late, I would have to endure the questions she would pose. I ALWAYS do everything in my power to avoid these questions, which made it seem more like an interrogation. I once told her of the similarities to interrogations, but she refused to accept this. Her exact words were as follows and I shall never forget this: "I don't interrogate you! Not once have I asked 'Did anyone see you (In reference to what I did when I got to school that morning)?' ". Now I will go back to above, where I speak of how I thought I was happy at home. It was not until this freedom from the oppression I call mumsy (I dont call her that, but it sounds better) that I realized just how miserable I was. I began to see all of the manipulation, all of the restraints, and all of the fear that she used to get me to do whatever she wanted. She uses me to get money from my grandparents, she uses me to do needless housework (I really do mean needless), and so many other things that I could speak of right now but out of fear for my sanity I dare not dwell onto that right now. But the strange thing is, I truly thought that I was happy when I was a child. I knew my life was boring, but I also knew that exciting does not equal happiness. I lived a sheltered and restrained childhood, far too sheltered for my own good. I was taught to unconditionally love my oh-great-leader from the day I was born. Not all abuse is physical.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Sunday, April 4, 2010
On Lonliness
As Easter Break comes to a close, I figure I should make another post before I am yet again swamped with work. I figure the subject of lonliness is an appropriate subject, as I have experienced a great deal of it during break. I feel that lonliness is not the proper word, however, as it has a negative connotation associated with it. There has been absolutely nothing negative about being alone during break. I suppose the proper word would be Peace, not Alone.
Ever since I can remember I have been alone in my struggles against the world. Very few would have supported me in my hour of need if it ever came down to that. I would always look forward to the hour or so that I would have after school when I could do as I wish because nobody was home but me. Those were wonderful days. Absolutely wonderful. Every once and a while school would be closed for whatever reason they could think of, so I would have the day off, just for me, and only including me. Those days were some of the best of my life. With the break that is about to finish, I can safely say that this is the case here as well. Yes, I did have some homework to do, but I could easily finish the most lengthy homework assignment in a day and still have plenty of time for Hearts of Iron. I expected to do a significant amount of contemplating various topics, but instead I gave my mind the weekend off. It deserves the break as much as I do.
One of the best things to come out of this break is being able to sleep without earplugs. Normally, I must sleep with them every night, as I generally go to bed around 11, just when people decide to start partying in my dorm. I'm fine with it w=though, the earplugs block most of the noise. If those people are destined to be Comm majors, then so be it. Lately, I've been going to bed around 1, and if that wasn't good enough, no earplugs! I'm on 3 days now, hoping for one more. But this lack of noise applies not only to night, but to the day as well. There is maybe one other person in the building that I sleep in (I say that I live in the Mendel Science Center, and sleep in my room). I'm sure he doesn't mind when I start playing my music at around 11, after I take my shower. I play it at about half volume, which for me is considered blasting. It makes me happy to be able to do that again. I missed that. I will miss the quiet once break is over, but I suppose I will also be happy to see people other than Jordan and Ron.
Thinking of what my break would have been like had I gone home, I realize that I made the right decision. I absolutely love the solitude here. I wish the break could have lasted longer. Had I gone home, I would have been constantly pestered by family to do various chores that they are simply too lazy to do if they could just outsource it to me. That is how it always is when I'm home. Every once and a while I actually get the opprotunity to sit down, but thats just when I'm able to lock myself in the bathroom.
This break has been by far better than any break that I could have at home, whether my mom would be at home or not. True, I have my baby at home, with all 8 of the intel i7 core processors and all 6 gigs of RAM and a 500 gig hard drive and a graphics card to kill for (yes, kill for. Not have someone be taken back out and shot for, but actually kill for) and the beautiful windows 7 operating system. I would gladly give up an opprotunity to see my baby to have a break like this. If someone where to ask me right now "how was your break?", I'd only be able to give a grin, as I wouldn't know where to start.
Ever since I can remember I have been alone in my struggles against the world. Very few would have supported me in my hour of need if it ever came down to that. I would always look forward to the hour or so that I would have after school when I could do as I wish because nobody was home but me. Those were wonderful days. Absolutely wonderful. Every once and a while school would be closed for whatever reason they could think of, so I would have the day off, just for me, and only including me. Those days were some of the best of my life. With the break that is about to finish, I can safely say that this is the case here as well. Yes, I did have some homework to do, but I could easily finish the most lengthy homework assignment in a day and still have plenty of time for Hearts of Iron. I expected to do a significant amount of contemplating various topics, but instead I gave my mind the weekend off. It deserves the break as much as I do.
One of the best things to come out of this break is being able to sleep without earplugs. Normally, I must sleep with them every night, as I generally go to bed around 11, just when people decide to start partying in my dorm. I'm fine with it w=though, the earplugs block most of the noise. If those people are destined to be Comm majors, then so be it. Lately, I've been going to bed around 1, and if that wasn't good enough, no earplugs! I'm on 3 days now, hoping for one more. But this lack of noise applies not only to night, but to the day as well. There is maybe one other person in the building that I sleep in (I say that I live in the Mendel Science Center, and sleep in my room). I'm sure he doesn't mind when I start playing my music at around 11, after I take my shower. I play it at about half volume, which for me is considered blasting. It makes me happy to be able to do that again. I missed that. I will miss the quiet once break is over, but I suppose I will also be happy to see people other than Jordan and Ron.
Thinking of what my break would have been like had I gone home, I realize that I made the right decision. I absolutely love the solitude here. I wish the break could have lasted longer. Had I gone home, I would have been constantly pestered by family to do various chores that they are simply too lazy to do if they could just outsource it to me. That is how it always is when I'm home. Every once and a while I actually get the opprotunity to sit down, but thats just when I'm able to lock myself in the bathroom.
This break has been by far better than any break that I could have at home, whether my mom would be at home or not. True, I have my baby at home, with all 8 of the intel i7 core processors and all 6 gigs of RAM and a 500 gig hard drive and a graphics card to kill for (yes, kill for. Not have someone be taken back out and shot for, but actually kill for) and the beautiful windows 7 operating system. I would gladly give up an opprotunity to see my baby to have a break like this. If someone where to ask me right now "how was your break?", I'd only be able to give a grin, as I wouldn't know where to start.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Family Matters
Before coming to college, I thought to myself "how can I just give up my family like that?" when wondering what life was going to be like in the near future. Now that I have successfully adapted to this new environment, I now ask myself "why did I believe in them as much as I did?" The following is going to primarily a synopsis of the drama that my family (extended to aunts and uncles) has faced over the past few years.
My grandparents have 4 children, Chris, Tody, Danielle (goes by Nanny), and Mary Anne (my mom), with the youngest being Chris and the oldest being my mom. I shall start from the youngest and go up from there. (and in case that they search their names, I shall not put their full names on this article, as I do not think they would appreciate what I am about to put up here)
Chris:
Art History Major, recently went back to school to practice Nursing. Favorite story to tell: how he got an RA's room and installed his "keg-a-nator". I shall talk about him in reference to two eras, pre and post marriage. Before he was married, he was a fun person to be around. My favorite uncle by far (to be discussed later). It was not uncommon for him to take me on drives down the street, go sledding with him when it snowed, ect. In other words, it was the most normal human contact I have ever received. He did, however, get into drugs along with his best friend during his high school years. Chris was able to pull himself out of it, but his friend has had it much worse. He's been in and out of jail, his father killed himself by self destruction of the liver, and the mother pays for her broken down house by opening herself up to customers. I honestly don't know if any of them are still alive today. Regardless, Chris was able to pull out of this nightmare and go back to school so that he could become a nurse. He then met Colleen, a seemingly pleasant person at the time, and would eventually marry her. Only after the marriage did things start to go a little crazy. During the election, it came out just how political she is. But since this is not a political post, all I will say is that if she found out that I was a Communist, she would have me taken out back and shot, and I'm afraid to say that I may not be exaggerating. Since they have gotten married, she has done nearly everything in her powers to bring misery and ruin to Chris' life. She portrays herself as a financial master, but has only succeeded in moving out of a wonderful apartment near the Rockville town center to a rundown townhouse in "cow-country" as she calls it (when a gps took us through downtown philly one day, it reminded me of when I visited my uncles new house. I believe my phrase was "close your windows, lock your doors, and don't make eye contact"). Needless to say, I do not think too highly of her at this point. A few months ago I found out that she got pregnant (they had been trying but with limited success). My exact words when I read the e-mail were "ahh crap", as that would only be a reason to stay together instead of get a divorce, forcing the child to grow up in an undeserving position.
Tody:
Cannot recall his initial major, also went back to school to practice nursing. Favorite story to tell: the fish that got away. Growing up, I never really used to like Tody. He had three kids with his first wife, born in 92, 93, and 95 and one kid with his new wife. His first wife was a psychopath, but it was not difficult to see why he wanted to have her children. He knew that even before they got married, she had been cheating on him. She even brought her affair to the wedding. It was not long until they got divorced, she remarried, and had two more children. Somehow she was able to "convince" the right person that Tody needed to be paying child support for her two other children as well (she knows what people like, remembers what she has, and uses that (or should I say them) to get what she wants). His first three children were almost demonic. The two older ones once locked Tody out of the house and put the youngest one in the oven; they have also run after the babysitter with knives. Today and Chris have not been on the best of terms since Chris' wedding. I do not exactly know the reason, but they have essentially ceased all communication with each other. Tody had two houses, one in Rockville (technically my grandparents house, he was staying there) and one somewhere in West Virginia. When he refused to pay taxes anymore on the house in Rockville, he was informed to move to the one in WV (I had a significant role in this decision. My grandma did not want to kick him out but I was able to convince her otherwise for reasons I shall not disclose here) as the one in Rockville was going to be sold. He started looking for another house, this time on the Chesapeake Bay (as he has a love for fishing and crabbing), and just after they moved in, the house in WV burned down. His life was finally starting to come together, and then this happens. It was not what he needed. The cause is still unknown, but either way this will not make his life any easier. *Forgot to mention earlier, also did drugs, but pulled out from it.
Nanny:
Sociology major, two children, soccer fanatic. This life is full of drama involving her husbands family, I shall get to that in another post if I wish to do so. Since this a post about my aunt and uncles, it would be inappropriate to go into that. She has your typical case of keeping-up-with-the-Jones' syndrome. Likely to have a shopping disorder, this anorexic sees things in her own, separate reality. She has a mountain of credit card debt, and it was so bad that she was begging her parents for money so that "Gabby and Nicholas (her two children) can eat". As soon as my grandma would write the check for $800, Nanny's house would magically get a gift from the plasma TV fairy. Give me $800 and that's nearly 2 years of my personal expenses budget. This went on for just over a year (I was able to enlighten my grandma of just how delusional they were both being). I frequently compared Nanny to a drug addict, and all my grandma was doing was enabling her by funding this maddness. I understand the mother instinct, but Nanny seriously needed to hit bottom, she has never had to face a financial consequence in her entire life as my grandma has ALWAYS been there to bail her out. It is partly because of this that my grandparents refused to pay for my college tuition, which they had been continuously promising me since I was in elementary school. The reason Nanny likes soccer is because she married a Brazilian, who used to play soccer. He passed this down to his two children, they enjoy the sport, but Nanny has taken this way too war. It has come to the point that the children will see no love from their mother unless they are playing soccer. To put it into perspective, soccer dominates Nanny's thoughts more than the physics and Communism combined dominate my thoughts. When I ask Gabby "what do you think about soccer?" the response is usually "its alright." If I ask Nanny what Gabby thinks about soccer, the response is always "Ohh my gawwd, soccer is amazing. Gabby is clearly the best one on the team and I just know that she's going to be someone important when she grows up" (que the tears). I have seen Gabby play; slightly below average. Similar case with the other child, yet he is still in the early fanaticism with the sport. Soon he shall grow to resent the sport as a result from the constant pushing to run around and kick a ball to make mommy happy. I feel bad for those two, I truly do.
I would talk about my mom and grandparents now, but I grow tired. They are for another day.
My grandparents have 4 children, Chris, Tody, Danielle (goes by Nanny), and Mary Anne (my mom), with the youngest being Chris and the oldest being my mom. I shall start from the youngest and go up from there. (and in case that they search their names, I shall not put their full names on this article, as I do not think they would appreciate what I am about to put up here)
Chris:
Art History Major, recently went back to school to practice Nursing. Favorite story to tell: how he got an RA's room and installed his "keg-a-nator". I shall talk about him in reference to two eras, pre and post marriage. Before he was married, he was a fun person to be around. My favorite uncle by far (to be discussed later). It was not uncommon for him to take me on drives down the street, go sledding with him when it snowed, ect. In other words, it was the most normal human contact I have ever received. He did, however, get into drugs along with his best friend during his high school years. Chris was able to pull himself out of it, but his friend has had it much worse. He's been in and out of jail, his father killed himself by self destruction of the liver, and the mother pays for her broken down house by opening herself up to customers. I honestly don't know if any of them are still alive today. Regardless, Chris was able to pull out of this nightmare and go back to school so that he could become a nurse. He then met Colleen, a seemingly pleasant person at the time, and would eventually marry her. Only after the marriage did things start to go a little crazy. During the election, it came out just how political she is. But since this is not a political post, all I will say is that if she found out that I was a Communist, she would have me taken out back and shot, and I'm afraid to say that I may not be exaggerating. Since they have gotten married, she has done nearly everything in her powers to bring misery and ruin to Chris' life. She portrays herself as a financial master, but has only succeeded in moving out of a wonderful apartment near the Rockville town center to a rundown townhouse in "cow-country" as she calls it (when a gps took us through downtown philly one day, it reminded me of when I visited my uncles new house. I believe my phrase was "close your windows, lock your doors, and don't make eye contact"). Needless to say, I do not think too highly of her at this point. A few months ago I found out that she got pregnant (they had been trying but with limited success). My exact words when I read the e-mail were "ahh crap", as that would only be a reason to stay together instead of get a divorce, forcing the child to grow up in an undeserving position.
Tody:
Cannot recall his initial major, also went back to school to practice nursing. Favorite story to tell: the fish that got away. Growing up, I never really used to like Tody. He had three kids with his first wife, born in 92, 93, and 95 and one kid with his new wife. His first wife was a psychopath, but it was not difficult to see why he wanted to have her children. He knew that even before they got married, she had been cheating on him. She even brought her affair to the wedding. It was not long until they got divorced, she remarried, and had two more children. Somehow she was able to "convince" the right person that Tody needed to be paying child support for her two other children as well (she knows what people like, remembers what she has, and uses that (or should I say them) to get what she wants). His first three children were almost demonic. The two older ones once locked Tody out of the house and put the youngest one in the oven; they have also run after the babysitter with knives. Today and Chris have not been on the best of terms since Chris' wedding. I do not exactly know the reason, but they have essentially ceased all communication with each other. Tody had two houses, one in Rockville (technically my grandparents house, he was staying there) and one somewhere in West Virginia. When he refused to pay taxes anymore on the house in Rockville, he was informed to move to the one in WV (I had a significant role in this decision. My grandma did not want to kick him out but I was able to convince her otherwise for reasons I shall not disclose here) as the one in Rockville was going to be sold. He started looking for another house, this time on the Chesapeake Bay (as he has a love for fishing and crabbing), and just after they moved in, the house in WV burned down. His life was finally starting to come together, and then this happens. It was not what he needed. The cause is still unknown, but either way this will not make his life any easier. *Forgot to mention earlier, also did drugs, but pulled out from it.
Nanny:
Sociology major, two children, soccer fanatic. This life is full of drama involving her husbands family, I shall get to that in another post if I wish to do so. Since this a post about my aunt and uncles, it would be inappropriate to go into that. She has your typical case of keeping-up-with-the-Jones' syndrome. Likely to have a shopping disorder, this anorexic sees things in her own, separate reality. She has a mountain of credit card debt, and it was so bad that she was begging her parents for money so that "Gabby and Nicholas (her two children) can eat". As soon as my grandma would write the check for $800, Nanny's house would magically get a gift from the plasma TV fairy. Give me $800 and that's nearly 2 years of my personal expenses budget. This went on for just over a year (I was able to enlighten my grandma of just how delusional they were both being). I frequently compared Nanny to a drug addict, and all my grandma was doing was enabling her by funding this maddness. I understand the mother instinct, but Nanny seriously needed to hit bottom, she has never had to face a financial consequence in her entire life as my grandma has ALWAYS been there to bail her out. It is partly because of this that my grandparents refused to pay for my college tuition, which they had been continuously promising me since I was in elementary school. The reason Nanny likes soccer is because she married a Brazilian, who used to play soccer. He passed this down to his two children, they enjoy the sport, but Nanny has taken this way too war. It has come to the point that the children will see no love from their mother unless they are playing soccer. To put it into perspective, soccer dominates Nanny's thoughts more than the physics and Communism combined dominate my thoughts. When I ask Gabby "what do you think about soccer?" the response is usually "its alright." If I ask Nanny what Gabby thinks about soccer, the response is always "Ohh my gawwd, soccer is amazing. Gabby is clearly the best one on the team and I just know that she's going to be someone important when she grows up" (que the tears). I have seen Gabby play; slightly below average. Similar case with the other child, yet he is still in the early fanaticism with the sport. Soon he shall grow to resent the sport as a result from the constant pushing to run around and kick a ball to make mommy happy. I feel bad for those two, I truly do.
I would talk about my mom and grandparents now, but I grow tired. They are for another day.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
My Views of Religion
I am a man on science. I believe in what I can see, what can be verified in a lab and that there are laws that govern the Universe. I was not taught to accept this as a child, my parents were neutral on this subject, allowing me to decide for myself what to believe. I didn’t really think much about religion until freshman year of high school, when I saw an episode of the Simpsons in one of my classes (where the school starts teaching creationism instead of Darwinism). Even though this was only a mere cartoon that I was watching, the effects on my life have been profound. In the cartoon, the students take a test about creationism, with questions such as “where do people come from?” and “where did dinosaurs come from?” It was appalling to me that the answers to all of these were ‘God’. I know that this is a dramatization of what creationists think (or at least I hope) as a mechanism to evoke laughter from the audience, but this comes from a very real place. This is what creationists think is true, even when there is overwhelming evidence of the contrary. I then came up with a scenario, that two people are holding a blue book, one is a deeply religious person, and the other is a regular person you found on the street. The religious person opens up the bible to gain knowledge about the blue book, while the normal person looks in the blue book itself. The religious person then finds somewhere in the bible that there cannot possibly be any blue books in the world, so he comes to the conclusion that his eyes are wrong, that perhaps it is a red book and he just discovered that he was in fact color blind. He shows this passage to the normal person, but the normal person does not believe him. He says “I hold in my hands what you claim does not exist. You say that your eyes deceive you when you look upon this book, as well as the rest of all living creatures on this earth. If your eyes deceive you here, why do they not deceive you while you are reading your bible? I know that the book I hold is blue; if I ask anyone else they shall agree with me that my book is blue. I trust my own eyes to gain knowledge of the truth, rather than a single line from a book that has been repeatedly translated over the past several thousand years.” Even though there is no such line in the bible, this scenario proved a point for me. It proved that people believe in what they can see, and what they can feel. We are not so keen on only believing what we have been told. This has been demonstrated over the past several thousand years (primarily in the U.S. where we recently have branched into hundreds of denominations) where various religions form, in which its followers are brainwashed to follow their leader into allowing him to have 10 of your children. These people may believe that this person is ‘The One True God’ (or whatever his title may be), but that is only because they have rejected reality and substituted nonsense in its place. But then, when you take away the father of 86 from this equation, you realize that what you have are the dominant religions of the world. In my opinion (with great emphasis on ‘my opinion’ here), this is brainwashing on a global scale; people being told to believe something that they cannot verify is the ultimate truth of the Universe.
I can understand a need for organized religion in the past, as a way to quench the thirst of (at the time) unattainable knowledge. It was once established fact that the Earth was created in 7 days. Now, we have rocks dated to billions of years ago, and that’s just here on earth. By doing a very simply calculation, we can find that the Universe is about 13.7 billion years old, much older than the 6000 years old proposed by the bible. I have seen for myself how the universe follows rules, I have done the experiment where I have to guess exactly where the ball will land after I shoot it off the ramp, and my equations did not fail me. I factored in the initial velocity, the angles of the ramp, and the height, and the friction of the ramp in order to get the answer that I did. There is no God constant in Newton’s laws. It was not God that put the ball on the X; it was the gravitational attraction of the Earth on the ball. But then I ask myself, “Where did all of these equations come from?” I know that Newton discovered these truths, but he did not create them. Nobody here on Earth created these equations that govern all of nature. For now, the only explanation that we have is that some overseeing force created them, perhaps a God. I am fairly certain, however, that one day people will look back at our time and say “Ha! They actually thought that God created the Universe?!” Just like we look back and say “Ha! They actually thought humans were made out of clay?!” I often call myself an Agnostic Deist, as I don’t believe that we can prove if a God does or does not exist. I have been taught by science to not overlook an idea just because it hasn’t been proven, as it hasn’t been disproven yet either. That is the Agnostic part of me talking. The Deist part, however, has a bit more to say regarding the existence of a God. I will pretty much say that even if a God does exist, s/he does not care about us anymore, if s/he is even aware that we exist. (I use the term God loosely here as ‘the creator’, and nothing more). Even if they are aware of our existence, they can either do nothing to aid us, or have decided to remove themselves from the Universe in order to ensure the laws that govern nature always remain the same.
I would have continued here, but then I realized that I was over the limit of my essay as it was. I may or may not continue this at a later time.
I can understand a need for organized religion in the past, as a way to quench the thirst of (at the time) unattainable knowledge. It was once established fact that the Earth was created in 7 days. Now, we have rocks dated to billions of years ago, and that’s just here on earth. By doing a very simply calculation, we can find that the Universe is about 13.7 billion years old, much older than the 6000 years old proposed by the bible. I have seen for myself how the universe follows rules, I have done the experiment where I have to guess exactly where the ball will land after I shoot it off the ramp, and my equations did not fail me. I factored in the initial velocity, the angles of the ramp, and the height, and the friction of the ramp in order to get the answer that I did. There is no God constant in Newton’s laws. It was not God that put the ball on the X; it was the gravitational attraction of the Earth on the ball. But then I ask myself, “Where did all of these equations come from?” I know that Newton discovered these truths, but he did not create them. Nobody here on Earth created these equations that govern all of nature. For now, the only explanation that we have is that some overseeing force created them, perhaps a God. I am fairly certain, however, that one day people will look back at our time and say “Ha! They actually thought that God created the Universe?!” Just like we look back and say “Ha! They actually thought humans were made out of clay?!” I often call myself an Agnostic Deist, as I don’t believe that we can prove if a God does or does not exist. I have been taught by science to not overlook an idea just because it hasn’t been proven, as it hasn’t been disproven yet either. That is the Agnostic part of me talking. The Deist part, however, has a bit more to say regarding the existence of a God. I will pretty much say that even if a God does exist, s/he does not care about us anymore, if s/he is even aware that we exist. (I use the term God loosely here as ‘the creator’, and nothing more). Even if they are aware of our existence, they can either do nothing to aid us, or have decided to remove themselves from the Universe in order to ensure the laws that govern nature always remain the same.
I would have continued here, but then I realized that I was over the limit of my essay as it was. I may or may not continue this at a later time.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Some things that need to be said
I know that not many people follow my blog. Even my closest friends admit that they neglect to read even the most important posts. I expect the following to be a mostly self reflective rant involving topics that may or may not have been already covered. In which case, don't bother reading it unless you have absolutely nothing better to do.
It doesn't take much for me to start feeling down about myself. It only takes a few minutes of not being preoccupied by a conversation or whatnot before I can start self reflecting. Looking back at myself I see nothing worthy of mentioning here, other than the general fact that I have been one dissapointment and failure after another. As a result of this, it has inadvertantly become my life goal to please others. I know that this isn't good for me, but I can't take the rejection, I just can't. After elementary school, my life took a downward spiral that it has yet to even consider recovering from, I have been an outcast since I switched schools. The only people that I could ever make friends with were those that didn't have any either, and there was usually a pretty good reason why they didn't have any. Before I came to college I would say that at least I had one good friend, but only now do I realize that I hardly know a thing about him. I noticed today that numerous times I almost slipped and called some different people by his name, I'm not quite sure what this means, but it may have some minor significance.
I didn't really know who I was until the middle of 11th grade, after I finished the rough draft of my book. It was then that I started growing apart from my friend. In all of my life, I have never "gone out", or even gone for a walk. As soon as school was over at 2:10, I would head directly home, as I knew that both my mom and grandma would call to make sure I actually did make it. If I was 5 minutes late, I was certain that an amber alert would have been issued. My family (when I say my family, I'm referring to my mom, grandma, and grandpa here, as they are the only ones that I consider family. The rest are strangers that I happen to share some DNA with) knew that I wouldn't be able to handle the world if I had to. They were right in being worried. This made going to college a real shock for me, as I expected. Soon after my family left, one of the first things that I did was go for a walk. My walks to and from high school offered great relaxation for me, and I definitely could have used some the first few days of school. Back in MD (I hesitate to say home here, as I am now uncertain of where that really is), all of my frustrations, anxieties, anger, and all negative thoughts in general were channeled through my video games. Whether I'm blowing up cars, shooting nazis, or taking over the world, I had a place where I could go, and not have to ever worry about being rejected. Machines are beautiful because of their unfaultering obedience, even though I may get an occasional error message, I would never get a message that says "Sorry, you can't play playstation right now because I don't like you anymore since you forgot to say thank you last time. Try again later when I'm in a better mood, and until then, **** off ".
This may sound strange but often times if something negative is said to me directly, all I will do is absorb and replay the exact words in my head. Those words will slowly mutate into something much worse and with a terrible tone attached to it. Even if it is only something minor, I replay it in my head so many times that the exaggerated version becomes the truth for me, as that is how I remember it best. Thats probably why I remember so many more arguments in my life than happy times. When people are happy, they live in the now, not worrying about wanting to remember it later. When people are unhappy, they live everywhere but in the now, and those thoughts will stay with them for life.
Alot can be said about me by the type of music that I listen to (I know its a bit of a jump, but I don't care, why are you bothering to read this anyway?!?). It's mostly classical with some songs with words in there (Red Army Choir and Pavarotti). Music has become my new video game since coming to college. Not in the sense that I can take over the world or kill nazis with music, but that it offers a place for me to get lost in, a place where I can go to no matter what. The only thing is, I only dwell in this area when necessary (when overcome by depression), and it is not exactly cured by listening to songs promoting the equality of the motherland, or whatever the crap (this is as far as I go when it comes to cursing for those who for some reason don't already know) they're saying. It is only cured when monday comes and I go to my morning class, engaging in the process of human interaction. It is because of this interaction that I placed so much emphasis on school, and valued my education so highly, but this education did come at a high price. It was not necessarily money that I had to pay (I almost wish it had been instead of the alternative) but the friends and experiences that I would never have. When I was really little, I remember wishing that I was a grown up. My mom would usually respond by saying that she wished she was my age. While she wanted to go back for a different reason than myself, I now see that she was correct in that. I also wish I could go back, tell myself to talk to that girl that I had a crush on, tell myself to go ask one of my aquaintances if I could go to the party they were throwing. But when I start to think about the idea of parallel universes, I realize that in at least one world, I do go and do all that I wish I could have done. And for the 09edwarc in that world, rock on! You have done something I could barely dream of doing.
I try to convince myself that this is all for the better of things, "delayed gratification" I always tell myself. But I don't know that, I know I don't know that. If things do improve I doubt it will be by that much, and thats a pretty big "if" anyway, so I shouldn't bother worrying about it. I've accepted the fact that I will never have children, not unless I donate certain organisms to a needy couple that wouldn't want me to be in the picture anyway. When I say that around someone, they usually respond by saying "I'm sure you will some day". Thats usually when I just stop talking. They don't know that, nobody knows that! If by some miracle I am ever in a position in which reproduction may occur (marriage, fling, prostitution, ect...), I don't want to have to be responsible bringing another innocent being into this overpopulated cesspool they call Earth. To exist, is the ultimate punishment for all beings. It is a struggle to survive for most of us, but we don't even know why we bother to try. I can say with almost complete certainty that all that awaits us after death is darkness, the absence of thought, the ultimate sanctuary (don't worry, I'm not suicidal, thats just my vision of what lies ahead).
I don't know why I try to be happy anymore, it only makes me more depressed when I fail at that too. It was actually my new years resolution to try to be happier this year. That is by far the craziest one yet, even moreso than the year I decided to not use any public bathrooms. Should I give up now, and save myself from the pain later? Or do I keep trying? Hoping that this world, out of the infinitely many out there that I reside on, is one where it finally works out for me.
It doesn't take much for me to start feeling down about myself. It only takes a few minutes of not being preoccupied by a conversation or whatnot before I can start self reflecting. Looking back at myself I see nothing worthy of mentioning here, other than the general fact that I have been one dissapointment and failure after another. As a result of this, it has inadvertantly become my life goal to please others. I know that this isn't good for me, but I can't take the rejection, I just can't. After elementary school, my life took a downward spiral that it has yet to even consider recovering from, I have been an outcast since I switched schools. The only people that I could ever make friends with were those that didn't have any either, and there was usually a pretty good reason why they didn't have any. Before I came to college I would say that at least I had one good friend, but only now do I realize that I hardly know a thing about him. I noticed today that numerous times I almost slipped and called some different people by his name, I'm not quite sure what this means, but it may have some minor significance.
I didn't really know who I was until the middle of 11th grade, after I finished the rough draft of my book. It was then that I started growing apart from my friend. In all of my life, I have never "gone out", or even gone for a walk. As soon as school was over at 2:10, I would head directly home, as I knew that both my mom and grandma would call to make sure I actually did make it. If I was 5 minutes late, I was certain that an amber alert would have been issued. My family (when I say my family, I'm referring to my mom, grandma, and grandpa here, as they are the only ones that I consider family. The rest are strangers that I happen to share some DNA with) knew that I wouldn't be able to handle the world if I had to. They were right in being worried. This made going to college a real shock for me, as I expected. Soon after my family left, one of the first things that I did was go for a walk. My walks to and from high school offered great relaxation for me, and I definitely could have used some the first few days of school. Back in MD (I hesitate to say home here, as I am now uncertain of where that really is), all of my frustrations, anxieties, anger, and all negative thoughts in general were channeled through my video games. Whether I'm blowing up cars, shooting nazis, or taking over the world, I had a place where I could go, and not have to ever worry about being rejected. Machines are beautiful because of their unfaultering obedience, even though I may get an occasional error message, I would never get a message that says "Sorry, you can't play playstation right now because I don't like you anymore since you forgot to say thank you last time. Try again later when I'm in a better mood, and until then, **** off ".
This may sound strange but often times if something negative is said to me directly, all I will do is absorb and replay the exact words in my head. Those words will slowly mutate into something much worse and with a terrible tone attached to it. Even if it is only something minor, I replay it in my head so many times that the exaggerated version becomes the truth for me, as that is how I remember it best. Thats probably why I remember so many more arguments in my life than happy times. When people are happy, they live in the now, not worrying about wanting to remember it later. When people are unhappy, they live everywhere but in the now, and those thoughts will stay with them for life.
Alot can be said about me by the type of music that I listen to (I know its a bit of a jump, but I don't care, why are you bothering to read this anyway?!?). It's mostly classical with some songs with words in there (Red Army Choir and Pavarotti). Music has become my new video game since coming to college. Not in the sense that I can take over the world or kill nazis with music, but that it offers a place for me to get lost in, a place where I can go to no matter what. The only thing is, I only dwell in this area when necessary (when overcome by depression), and it is not exactly cured by listening to songs promoting the equality of the motherland, or whatever the crap (this is as far as I go when it comes to cursing for those who for some reason don't already know) they're saying. It is only cured when monday comes and I go to my morning class, engaging in the process of human interaction. It is because of this interaction that I placed so much emphasis on school, and valued my education so highly, but this education did come at a high price. It was not necessarily money that I had to pay (I almost wish it had been instead of the alternative) but the friends and experiences that I would never have. When I was really little, I remember wishing that I was a grown up. My mom would usually respond by saying that she wished she was my age. While she wanted to go back for a different reason than myself, I now see that she was correct in that. I also wish I could go back, tell myself to talk to that girl that I had a crush on, tell myself to go ask one of my aquaintances if I could go to the party they were throwing. But when I start to think about the idea of parallel universes, I realize that in at least one world, I do go and do all that I wish I could have done. And for the 09edwarc in that world, rock on! You have done something I could barely dream of doing.
I try to convince myself that this is all for the better of things, "delayed gratification" I always tell myself. But I don't know that, I know I don't know that. If things do improve I doubt it will be by that much, and thats a pretty big "if" anyway, so I shouldn't bother worrying about it. I've accepted the fact that I will never have children, not unless I donate certain organisms to a needy couple that wouldn't want me to be in the picture anyway. When I say that around someone, they usually respond by saying "I'm sure you will some day". Thats usually when I just stop talking. They don't know that, nobody knows that! If by some miracle I am ever in a position in which reproduction may occur (marriage, fling, prostitution, ect...), I don't want to have to be responsible bringing another innocent being into this overpopulated cesspool they call Earth. To exist, is the ultimate punishment for all beings. It is a struggle to survive for most of us, but we don't even know why we bother to try. I can say with almost complete certainty that all that awaits us after death is darkness, the absence of thought, the ultimate sanctuary (don't worry, I'm not suicidal, thats just my vision of what lies ahead).
I don't know why I try to be happy anymore, it only makes me more depressed when I fail at that too. It was actually my new years resolution to try to be happier this year. That is by far the craziest one yet, even moreso than the year I decided to not use any public bathrooms. Should I give up now, and save myself from the pain later? Or do I keep trying? Hoping that this world, out of the infinitely many out there that I reside on, is one where it finally works out for me.
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