Thursday, June 24, 2004

Fear not love as it loosens its
hooks from its gruesome sheath
and captures you in its painfully
seductive grasp.

Fear not the blood that will ooze
from your wounds and hold your
patience to task.

Fear not the tearing sounds of
passion as they rip apart your
feelings at the start.

Fear not the fainting pulse of
your heartbeat
for THAT is the
very best part.

-by muMs

Friday, June 18, 2004

Tonight I attended the wedding of my chica, a wonderful young woman who has been my friend since we were in kindergarten. This was, in many ways, the first wedding I have really been to, though I have been physically present at others in the past; this was the first wedding where I felt my eyes burn and my throat get tight as the vows were read, the first where my cheeks were sore from smiling so long and so hard.

I've never been much for weddings, to be honest. Sure, the food is usually pretty outstanding, and bridesmaids have their own not-so-subtle charm, but there's always a fearful concentration of relatives wandering about and offering drunken congratulations to anybody too slow to escape. Other than a bunch of blenders, floral china, and tax exemptions, there's not much in the way of direct reward for the whole process, and those few perks hardly enough to distract from the excruciating reality of matrimonial "bliss." Once the honeymoon is over you wind up doing pretty much exactly what you would be doing if you hadn't married but had just shacked up in sin together, only you blew five years' rent money on what amounted to a slightly over-large dinner party.

I really haven't the temperment for marriage. I don't like to share, I am extremely territorial, I boast a perverse and hostile sense of humor, and I have more trust issues that Teddy Roosevelt. (Any AP American students get that reference?) Perhaps I am merely anticipating the inevitable by rejecting marriage, since the likelihood of anybody putting up with me for an period of more than 8 hours at a stretch is...well, just ask my brother, once he's gotten free of the little "surprise" I left in his closet.

But my safely cynical world was shaken when I watched my oldest friend exchange small loops of precious metal with the man she has chosen for a partner. Unexpected feelings flooded the jealously cultivated cactus of my heart. Is there any way to accept such cliched joys as weddings and marriage, while still maintaining a dignified level of misathropy? These next years will be the test, as I watch my friends cartwheel recklessly off the springboard of matrimony, and as I myself perhaps come face-to-face with my inner demons of compassion and (shudder) romance.

Thursday, June 17, 2004

Yesterday the lingering remnants of my faith in human intelligence were slapped around in a non-trivial manner. I was on a political forum (yes, I realize that was my first mistake) and was trying to have a debate on a current social issue. The issue itself isn't important because this event has happened before on other topics, but this time something hit a nerve and it finally sunk in for me that people are generally utter twits.

When I take a stance on an issue and present that stance for discussion my first course of action is to present my reasons and logic, immediately followed by credible sources for any facts or data that I mention. This is ingrained habit for me, stemming from years of work in the sciences, and I would feel my arguments were naked and weak without such supports. In the case of yesterday's debate, I posted over a dozen sources at the end of my somewhat lengthy personal statement, sources available on the 'net for all to see and read for themselves. I thought this was good form and that people would be more likely to understand or even accept my views if I gave solid proof that my stance was valid.

Oh, if only.

Instead, the opposition replied that I was simply "regurgitating," and that, in fact, they were in the right because they came up with their own thoughts rather than simply posting what somebody else said. Keep in mind that I had posted several paragraphs in my own words explaning what my personal feelings on the subject were, and that the citations merely supported the facts I had presented. The opposition accused me of trying to make everybody think like me, trying to force my views on others, and being arrogant.

Now, I'm a pretty reasonable person, so I didn't understand this response one bit. I tried again, pointing out that I had only been trying to show that there was more to my opinions than hot air and that I had intended merely to give people a solid reason to care about my stance. This was answered by the accusation that I was calling opposing stances stupid, that I was (again) trying to brainwash people, and that I shouldn't try to make other people look silly by posting so many sources when they merely posted their personal feelings.

Needless to say I became slightly hot under the collar at this. I guess I am supposed to let other people feel good even if they are wrong and I have proof of their wrongness. After all, to steal a phrase from the Daily Show, the facts must be biased! I shouldn't call attention to the idiocy of others, even if they are trying to pass that idiocy into law!

Screw that. From now on I am going to begin compiling a book of all my arguments and citations and proofs, and it's going to be titled "The Big Book Of Why I Am Right." People can read the book and reach their own conclusions, but if they disagree they damn well better write up an equally large and well-cited book of why I'm not right, and you don't get to cite yourself, God, or Rush Limbaugh. People who refuse to read The Big Book Of Why I Am Right will be clubbed about the head with it until they submit.

Saturday, June 12, 2004

I seem to be on another of my pick-on-religion kicks lately, because I came across a quote from this famous hippy fellow who got himself stapled to a plus sign 2000 years ago:

"And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men... But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret..." (Matthew 6: 5-6)

So now, wait, why are there Christians arguing in favor of school prayer?

Monday, June 07, 2004

I've been given what has to be the best proof of God ever.

ARGUMENT FROM RAPIST WITH NUCLEAR STRAP-ON (ED'S ARGUMENT)

1) Being indirectly responsible for something is very different from directly responsible for something, especially if it is allowed in order for a greater good to occur. A better analogy would be a rapist with an activated nuclear weapon strapped to him in a large city. He starts raping a woman but if you try to stop him millions could die, so you have to allow him to do it until a better way of getting rid of him can be discovered.
2) Thus, the existence of evil does not preclude the existence of God.
3) Therefore, God exists.

Brilliance. It really, really is. And now, off to church...