2009 in Retrospect

Almost 356.24 days ago, a humble Asian senior at New York University was sitting at home, wasting away because he was failing out of life. After spending over $2000 on medical school applications, countless hours (not days, hours!) on MCAT studying, and praying to God (or the Gods of Olympus as you prefer) above, he had received exactly one interview, no acceptances, and a bunch of rejections. Said Asian man shook his head and wondered what was wrong with him and more importantly, how he would deal with his academic incompetence in the future.

2009 has been a year of many changes for your humble blog writer. I've moved across the country, attended two graduate school orientations, blew a bunch of money on food, discovered how deep of a depression I can withstand (for now), had flings with two or three women (none of which amounted to anything), drove over a thousand miles for a chick, wore my Slytherin tie as a showpiece, and discovered that I look better with short hair. Along the way, some of the people I've met (not in order) are:

1) a hyperactive but adorable cockatiel with a prima donna temperament and a constant need for attention,
2) a quirky art student with incredibly large anxiety problems with a horrible case of yellow fever,
3) an alcohol-loving professor with his own strange cocktail concoction ('the Goldburg'),
4) a classroom full of female would-be wanna-be teachers with some far more attractive than others,
5) a bunch of Magic: The Gathering playing folk including a thrifty, shifty-eyed, but good hearted kid with a gift for imitation,
6) an Oregonite who makes crappy jokes, cooks with spam, and is considerate, thoughtful, and a much better person than I,
7) SoCal natives who claim one stands 'in line' as opposed to the proper 'on line' terminology,
8) a kid who speaks Russian but isn't Russian and who gets less ass than his girlfriend,
9) LaRanger.

Wild ride, huh.

And in the meantime, I've learned a few crucial things about the world. The highlights, in my true, sarcastic, and bitterly witty voice, are as follows (with parentheses for easy comprehension!):

1) Medical school is for the dedicated. I'm not dedicated. (Everything has a price. Dedication is always at the cost of one's individualism.)
2) If you're really desperate, there's nearly always graduate school. (Desperation often shows you the way; just not the way you expect. But one must have faith even in the darkest times to see.)
3) I can move around if I have to, but my heart will always be in New York. (You can never escape where you come from, or who you are; it should empower you instead.)
4) Innovation is creativity applied, born with humor and invention by necessity. (New things are born from combinations of old things, paying homage to their past and looking towards a novel future.)
5) Relationships are fragile things, just like people. Never trust them. (Always be aware of the delicacy of the human spirit. It is easy to see in others, but one must also see it in oneself.)
6) I can and will do stupid things for someone I love, including drive 1000 miles north only to get rejected. (The desire of reciprocity can blind us to reality and cause us pain, but can also inspire the most remarkable of actions, the most beautiful of changes.)
7) Gas is expensive. (Never be afraid of finding out something. Never be afraid to pay the cost for knowing whether you are right, or wrong.)
8) Less words, more content. (People want specific things in their lives. Understanding the wants of others is to understand them.)
9) Failure is the price of trying, not necessarily its only outcome. (Make of failure as you will. Sometimes, it is prudent to fail; you have succeeded in learning regardless.)

Succinct. I should write cards.

I do believe it is New Years tradition to thank people who have supported me throughout the years, but beforehand, I would like to present New Years resolution (another classic!). Let's see how long I can actually follows these for, shall we?

1) Learn to use neurolinguistics effectively.
2) Beat Mass Effect 2 with Tali in my team.
3) Finally complete a Harvest Moon game.
4) Take professional development seriously.
5) Learn to love. Ha!
6) Learn to deal with my emotions in constructive ways to other people.
7) Play 'Defying Gravity' on piano properly.
8) Write more frequently.
9) Continue to grow and develop, never ceasing for the sky.

And now, acknowledgements for 2009!

1) My INTP buddy for being there in spirit.
2) My INFP roommate for the micromesh blanket of amazing (please cheer up!)
3) Mom and dad.
4) Ryan, for being a good go-to buddy when I'm crying about work.
5) A dear new friend of mine; who roomed with my high school crush, le Korean small and hyperactive.
6) Bambi, for making me realize how far I'll go for someone.
7) The short girl from Sichuan China who almost won a singing competition; I love your voice!
8) All of my NYC buddies. <3
9) Whatever this mysterious force that allows me to continually exist. And hasn't yet tried to kill me yet.

Peace out, 2009. You'll be missed. Well, maybe not; but it's the thought that counts, right?

Today is New Year's Eve, with the new year in just 9 minutes. I need all the energy I can get to face the dawn, so therefore, I am lazy.

Cheers.

Juxtapose

As an interested party to my own inner workings as a human being, I have been reading up on different personality types in order to understand myself more; at least, myself from a standardized position that other people have taken in treating people like me. One of the core strengths of my standardized personality type is the ability to be creative through the manipulation of different objects; we are capable of seeing different combinations of factors and hence, appreciating the myriad possibilities a given object would have. The source of our creative power is this ability to take something; a situation, a feeling, an person, and shove them into a billion possibilities at once, into new places and see what happens.

A writing professor once told me that parodies and humor are created from this juxtaposition, this taking of something and putting it someplace else. Many things perhaps, are born from this as well. Fusion cuisine, new music genres, poetic styles, video games, so many things arise from the transportation of something where they have been to an area they've never been before. I would argue, therefore, that the source of innovation in  a philosophical sense doesn't lay within a specialization, or the furthering of one object in one distinct vector, but the entire movement of that object into a different subspace entirely. To combine rhythms and genres that normally never coexist (country x rap?! That would be hilarious!), to take objects and change where they are placed in relation to everything else (why don't we shift the angle of this film to this ...), such is the way that new combinations of things are born and from there, true innovation.

I don't have much else to say about this topic. However, I wish to deliver the message that innovation is something that we should all pursue, perhaps even on a personal level. While the juxtaposition of objects might be easy to facilitate logistically (let's put this banjo in this symphony ...), it is harder when we do it as ourselves. Who ever thought of juxtaposing themselves into another situation, a what-if scenario, another world and another existence? Yet, perhaps to continue growth or at least, promote change, we should seek experiences that are radically not our own. In this way, we might be able to innovate ourselves and in turn, understanding, experience, and share something that perhaps is fundamentally new and different from all that came before. Innovate ourselves, without fear, without hesitation.

Today, I'm finally back where I belong. Hence, I am lazy.

Cheers.

Beneath the Bodhi Tree

I find myself in the most remarkable position of being able to feel the depths of my emotion without allowing it to influence my actions. True, it leaks through; my facial expressions are different when I'm happy than what I'm sad, and I perhaps am more waspish than normal when stressed, and I tend to eat comforting foods when down (like, for example, cheap Americanized Chinese food), but I have done a great deal in trying to be unhampered by the 'soft weak things' that make up our humanity. This divorce, if you will, enables me to pick part my emotional processes and intuit more things about myself than perhaps I would be able to. It also prevents me from becoming an emotional wreck even after watching 'The Notebook' (one of my weaknesses as a teenager!).

Most of the time, my emotions don't cause me much grief. However, there are moments when my processes become circular, and I reach a point where my emotions constantly recoil and self-perpetuate, unable to solve a fundamental equation or divine a specific answer. One of the most common cycles for me deals with love. I in many ways, accept the beauty of love and all of the wonderful things it can do. I have written fairly extensively that love is a positive thing for many, many people and it is a feeling we should seek in some ways throughout lives. However, what I notably do not often write about is how I feel when I love. It is a personal subject that has little place in becoming actualized into words, but perhaps it is fitting to exposit upon it for a little bit. If only to understand more of what I am deep down.

Love is a selfless and selfish emotion. I was rather abruptly shook out of a rather lovey-dovey feeling by a friend who proceeded to find me that attraction oftentimes had more to do with what people could do for one another than it did any sort of 'higher' feeling. Is love simply a collection of selfish desires we see becoming fulfilled by someone else? Is this why many relationships fail when one person fails the expectations of another? How can this be the high ideal of romantic love if it too embodies a sense of self-preservation and want? More and more as I grow older, I find myself grappling with the object more and more; this conscious desire of certain aspects and yet, this incredibly overpowering feeling of guilt surrounding them. To want something is in some ways, the worse crime. To want someone, could it be myself perverting something that could be far more beautiful?

Though it is human to desire, and it is futile to aim for something 'not human' as an end, I do not believe the journey towards transcending human limits is one not worth undertaking. To love everyone and everything equally perhaps requires a grace I do not have and will never have, but to endeavor is a worthwhile goal to me. Such things always require a price or toll to pay, and I feel that I stand at an impasse. Shall I do nothing about my own desires and live and want as much as others,or should I try consciously eliminate them one by one, until I have not want for anything any longer? I wonder if Siddhartha, as he sat below some tree of some kind or another, felt the twinge of sadness for even wondering such a thing, for even contemplating the idea that to be human somehow is something undesirable.

One thing's for certain. It's time to say good-bye. I'm not a child anymore, nor can I afford to continue to attempt to be.

Today is cloudy, but no rain, but it's still gloomy out. Therefore, I am lazy.

Cheers.

The Death of Literature

One of my close friends linked me the following article, detailing the fourth novel in the popular 'Twilight' series.

http://chud.com/articles/articles/21684/1/THE-DEVIN039S-ADVOCATE-WHY-BREAKING-DAWN-MUST-BE-MADE-INTO-A-MOVIE/Page1.html

I couldn't believe it. With an almost morbid fascination, I cruised onto Amazon to read customer reviews of the book and spent an hour bouncing around and extrapolating the thought processes of those people. In many ways, it drove me almost to the point of sheer vocal amusement (a rather disrupting sort of behavior given my current position in class) in tandem to the point of suicidal depression. I have attempted to survey the latest teen craze in literature, but was horribly disappointed to the point of driving a wooden stake through my heart. Since when have Mary Sues taken over the world? Since when have novels and stories become shallow, trash-ridden tales that seek not to enlighten, inspire, or anything but only to make people feel good about their lives? Is this simply our generation lacking inner strength and resilience?

If 'Twilight,' arguable by the series' champions as the 'best book,' was far below my expectations, vicariously reading 'Breaking Dawn' through reviews made me nauseous. Even deeper than an authoress capitalizing on weak pre-teen (and middle aged and mentally deranged in some cases, I'm sure) readers with a fantasy world almost explicitly designed for love-starved insecure escapists, I am concerned about the popularity of such a series. It says a great deal about the lack of focus on the craft of writing throughout American culture; and it has deeper implications than a simple blockbuster mess of text. Writing well is a skill required for many professional and personal environments; and yet, mass media perpetuates poorly written farces focused only upon either 'making people feel good' or 'I'm going to express myself because I'm worth it.'

I realize my words are harsh, but I wish to clarify that I do not mean people should not 'feel good 'from reading, nor limit self-expression. However, such tools are powerful entities that have the capacity to inspire, communicate, and shape the world. Think of the great writers in the past; philosophical paragons like St. Augustine, expressivists like Hemmingway, social champions like Harper Lee. Even smaller fables by Aesop, who illustrate even through a childhood joy, add value to the world. Yet, even as I go through life and have become exposed to numerous writing, both professional and person, published and amateur, I can scarcely believe that the focus of writing and sharing such expression has become a self-serving means of 'listen to me' or a way to make money off escapists. Truly, in some way, this is the death of literature.

The death of the literary age of writing. Perhaps, we will soon have such nuance and diction lost in favor of more efficient means of information transfer (arguably, TV transmits more information than writing, for certain). However, I cannot feel anything but sadness at books such as 'Twilight;' their popularity demonstrates the beginning decline of the written word, and the focus of our society more on euphoric experiences of the now than lasting value and meaning. Popular culture in writing, in some ways, is the vanguard of a new age of writing; an age in which quick 'bursts' of emotion and feeling matter more than the complex weave of meanings, viewpoints, and philosophies.

Truly, will we forget where we have come from? I hope not. As I face the future of writing, even in my own development, I can feel nothing but respect for those before me, and reverence at their skill and style. For whatever words I have were shaped in part by them, and I can be no more arrogant than a child to his parents towards the writers of ages long ago. 

I suppose my sentiment isn't shared by the majority. Perhaps it never was.

Today is sunny, but I hurt my finger. Therefore, I am lazy.

Cheers.

Where the Wild Things are

As a kid, I really enjoyed the book 'Where the Wild Things are.' I wasn't really ever sur why I enjoyed it, but I liked the idea of some little kid going off to play with a bunch of monsters and coming back home. However, as a sort of strange side effect, I also disliked the book because it was too simple (haha, precocious and arrogant even as a kindergartener ... I think).

In my later years, however, I have grown to understand the reasons why such a book touches the core of us. Fundamentally, it is about escapism from a world we feel doesn't understand us, and returning only after our own inner needs of self-expression have been satisfied. Within this rational discourse is the very powerful (and very prevalent) emotion that is at the core of all human beings. We dislike having binders and chains put on us, and we long for a world where we can escape and be wild and most importantly, true to who we are deep inside.

Yet, the ending of the book displays the boy returning back home, just as we cannot always be wild. Though we humans are emotional beings at heart, the advances we have made as a species and as a collective consciousness stems not from how we feel, but how well we can control those feelings. It doesn't matter if we are angry, or sad, or happy, but it fundamentally matters where those emotions drive us to go and what to act. Being wild is useless empirically, while being wild when it is necessary is productive.

I realize the rather uncomfortable realization that is implied by my statement; if 'being wild' is at essence the expression of who we are deep inside ourselves, our unconscious being or baseline behavior, then I have essentially advocated self-suppression in nearly all cases (assuming, of course, that in nearly all cases are true behavior isn't really that useful). However, careful thinking reveals that we already do it to such a high degree. We censor speech when appropriate, we alter our behaviors depending on our context, we create psychological refuges for which we can roam and be wild. What harm would it be to take it just a few steps further and completely transform our existence into one ruled by our surroundings? Perhaps it would make us as a race more efficient and push our productivity and innovation to levels unheard of, now unhampered by our feelings, by our emotions, and most importantly, by ourselves.

It's the 'by ourselves' that makes it an uncomfortable to pill to swallow. Should we as a race lose our identities for the same of everyone? Is this really that beneficial (the ant, termite, and bee would say 'certainly so')? And most importantly, is identity really something worth as much value as we believe it to be?

I, like all others, do not have answers to this question. But I do know this; the joy of being wild, for me, is mitigated by the realization I must return to my cage. In that sense, I can no more partake of the joy of self-expression than I could of a last meal before an untimely death.

Sobering thought, isn't it.

Today is sunny and warm, but it is raining in some part of the world, so I am lazy.

Cheers.

Fairy Tales between the Lines

I've had the pleasure of meeting many people throughout my life, some of which I've even had deeper emotional connections to. However, in my most recent bout of introspection, I've come to the conclusion that my approach to relationships, that is,a highly compartmentalized methodology to hold advantages of psychological distance and control, is perhaps not really the best way to go about doing things. Inf act, some of the problems I allude to in earlier writings, for example the growing lack of awareness of the cohesive 'whole' world around us, directly stem from the very processes I embody as both defense and conceptual mechanisms.

But why do people fragment their lives? Why do I and by extension, others compartmentalize portions of our existence into black boxes? I suppose that the context I am speaking of has to do with social interactions.

All of us do it. We place friends in different areas of our lives, knowing that there are people we seek out for distinct benefits as compared to others. There are the confidants, the ones we go to to hang out, the ones we seek for romantic companionship, the ones we go to because we're alone. In many ways, this causes us to fragment our identities into different portions, each of which we exclusively express to specific people. But why is this? Do we feel that this is a mechanism to prevent any form of awkward turtle birthing based on common similarities? Or is it something deeper?

Personally, I do believe that fragmentation is done in order to smooth out social interactions and prevent any one person from knowing 'too much.' It is at once a defense and a coping mechanism, allowing us to effectively connect with other people without the danger of severely compromising ourselves on the basis of someone knowing too much. This reduces our investment by each individual person and thus, if we lose someone in our network, it doesn't impact us quite as emotionally as it would have been had they known more of who we are. To be more precise, it wouldn't impact as much as if we had known they know us more.

People who we connect to, we foster a bond with, and the like are those we want to somehow connect back with us. Rare is the notion that we do not seek reciprocity; in fact, I would argue that many of our interactions in terms of emotional and intellectual discourse demonstrates a huge want of just that. We want people to know us and want to know us, perhaps because it fulfills our social need to be accepted. A person curious in who we are demonstrates a want of who we are, further affirming our personalities, identity, and self-worth.

Yet, there are lines drawn in the sand marking where they cannot pass, and barriers that oftentimes cannot be broken. The investment in any one substantial person greatly increases the risk, and thus we have been wired to not disperse our full personalities to everyone we know. Those who are able to reach that limit (or at least approach) either have incredible emotional tolerance and stamina or are hurt all the time and require their social network to 'shield' them from the outside.

These two contradicting viewpoints, the need to protect ourselves and the need for social reciprocity, are the underlying cause for relationship micromanagement. We relate only with people in ways we seek for them to reciprocate in. The conflicts that arise oftentimes occur when this underlying 'similarity' between two people is challenged. One person wishes for something else, and it falls apart under strain. One person does not require reciprocity and withdraws. All the myriad of dysfunctions and breaking friendships result when our perception of what we wish from someone else changes, and to be conscious both of our own perception and others perhaps is a skill that should be cultivated.

Wouldn't it be nice to know everything about your friend, so that things will never be awkward? And wouldn't it be nice for her to know everything about you, so that she'll reciprocate as you desire? Sadly, such ideal situations are at best, a blue moon an at worse, the unattainable dream fairy tales are written of.

Today is chilly, but the temperature is rising. Therefore, I am lazy.

Cheers.

The Rationality of Irrationality

One of my classes I"m taking in great ol' grad school happens to be Organizational Behavior. Please note that ever since I was an undergraduate freshman not doing anything exciting with my life, I have always been at least partially oriented to the humanities, ranging from literature to sociology and, in undergrad, anthropology. Even in my currently more 'advanced' program, I am still stunned with the concepts and skills I have developed in these 'useless' soft classes; namely, by function of ho applicable they are.

Despite my objections that studies such as psychology, sociology, and even in some respects anthropology can be classified as 'hard science' (that is, with heavily defined terms and extremely specific and controlled cases), I cannot deny that the insights we gain from our poor skill in analyzing super complex systems actually have some legitimate. Perhaps it is not so easy to break down the world to a bunch of pieces that somehow all make sense when put together, and it is instead a better strategy to look upon the world as a single large system of which we perhaps would never know the truth of. The musicians, creatives, and other right brained people are probably rejoicing that one of those silly rationals has finally 'come around.'

However, I state this not because it is empirically better (and by extension, empirically worse) than the alternative, but to shed light upon the possible benefits this might have to people as a whole. While specific systems and incredibly well defined terms are great at parsing the identity of individual elements, such analysis is less effective in viewing emergent properties that are functions of individual properties too small or insignificant to properly express. Much like the codon which doesn't code for anything, but instead acts as a promoter gene, these little things oftentimes cascade into major effects, and it is only through holistic, macroscopic study that we can identify how the snowball grows as it rolls down a hill.

But of course, large macroscopic systems are composed of far too many factors for any of us to effectively manage as an individual; thus, it is necessary for us to make estimations whenever we can for the sake of our poorly developed (or poorly utilized) brains. Welcome to the world of estimation, where unfortunately, our innate biases as individuals now become the standard of which we build other concepts and learn new things. When estimation occurs, inherently the rational framework we all aspire to use becomes subjective; this is the rationality of irrationality. Whether there are other reasons for such behaviors is unclear, but we certainly can identify the need in simply controlling the information input we can deal with at any given time.

Does this mean that I don't believe there exists a universal rational 'logic' or process? Absolutely not. What I mean to say is that while or while not something so grand and all-encompassing can exist, we as people cannot handle the use of such methods, even if we aspire for such. Logically, therefore, we must use heuristics and biases; we must be subjective for otherwise, we would intake so much information that our heads might veritably explode in a shower of grey and white matter. Bridging the differences in communication between people, therefore, is a much more realistic goal to aspire towards than total understanding, although ideally we should be focusing on both in order to further our own development.

And I need to wax just as much eloquent on my Organizational Behavior exam coming up in about fifteen minutes.

Today is sunny, BUT yesterday was raining. Therefore, I am lazy.

Cheers.

Colors in the Wind

When I look back at my life, I wonder how much different it is from what I perceived it to be. Things that I took for granted, like carer, future, friends, and family, seem to be as mutable as sand is to a child building a castle or water is as it cascades from a rickety tin roof. Perhaps it is simply my old age, but slowly I have come to realize that my level of control, and by extension all others, is simply not as deep or as complete as I wish it was. However, in tandem, I have realized that my degree of influence is probably higher than I wish it to be, illuminating my all-or-nothing viewpoint on personal relationships. Either way, these past few weeks have been full of revelations showcasing that while I feel old, I am still very young as well.

So why the self-expressive post from a writer who claims to love objectivity? I suppose there are certain philosophical concepts that can only be expressed emotionally and personally; the passage of time, for example. The mutability of the future. The capacity for all of us to change for the better, or change for the worse.

Like watercolors trailing off into the spiral of a drain, our plans often become discarded and fade away into a swirl of emotion. Sometimes, we might be disappointed at seeing our masterpiece become wrecked so easily and other times, we might be gratified at the change that pushes us off and away from our native lands. One central conflict all of us encounter throughout lives is this concept of control over time, over events that are far larger than us. It is no surprise that whenever people feel pressured, they exert control over objects in their proximity in a psychological algebraic equation. But is this all we can do? Is there some other way of dealing with the aftermath of a watercolor whirlpool other than painting a new picture as soon as possible?

We are all slaves to time and perhaps, we should simply accept it. There are things in the world that we cannot control and certainly, things we believe we control but in reality do not. Perhaps by stepping back from the portraits we paint, form the ideas we have of the future, we can more effectively deal with the passage of time. Sure, commitment to an ideal is well, ideal (pun intended) but the ability to be flexibility is even moreso. Paradoxically, in order to be able to discard plans, ideas, lifestyles we have grown accustomed to takes either a legendary emotional tolerance or simply put, less initial investment.

Yet in some ways, there is a beauty to time's ravages. The idea that everything we have done and will do can easily be swept away so callously, that carefully groomed flowers blossom only to have their petals scattered in the breeze, that our lives are somehow shaped to by things greater than what we are is terrifying but great. Though difficult to see, it is this beauty that I take hold of, gazing at the colors in the wind.

Today is sunny, but I'm contemplative in my solitude. Hence, I am lazy.

Cheers.

Ogres are like Onions

In my triumphant return to blog writing (jeez, a hiatus of three weeks!), I was going to write about the complexity of human personalities, and how many things are layered deep within our consciousness (hence the Shrek reference). However, in my realization that I've probably done such a topic to death, and while I was ironically cooking dinner for myself, I had an epiphany. When cut, onions make people cry.

I am a fundamental believer in secrets as much I am a proponent of people telling the truth. There are aspects of people's lives that are very much private, and while some keep it in cages made of transparent glass that are easy to see through, others keep it in dank dungeons under severe lock and key. One thing that is often pushed in modern society is this concept of 'openness' paired with the idea that with perfect acceptance, the conflict between people will become mitigated. Perfect understanding of one another, while simultaneously being able to of holding separate opinions is not an ideal I would either disagree with or despise; in fact, I would say I am as much a proponent of such a paradigm as any other idealist. The caveat here, of course, is that I am not so much an idealist as I am a realist.

The fact is, humans come from a subjective bias innately, making any sort of 'non-judgmentality' difficult. Humans will always judge, based on our past experiences, the things that have shaped our behavior, the things that we really want to see in the world around us. Because of this, total understanding can never fully eliminate bias; it can only mitigate it. Secrets and its ilk, smoke and mirrors, deception, and lies, are all things that oftentimes are used for other aims such as personal gain, but are also tools that people can use to protect themselves and others. To know that a piece of knowledge would wreak havoc upon other people, be it a personal interest that is shunned throughout society or a deep dark fact a la Da Vinci code, is paired with the responsibility of revelation. If we know that understanding is not infallible and that bias and judgment will always dominate, then should we not conceal things we know will only cause more conflict? There is always a limit in a person's worldview when they simply cannot accept something, and in modern society we have not so much broken the limit as simply made it higher.

In some cases, I would argue, the limit hasn't moved at all. It might even have shrunk.

Case in point is the idea of religion's place in society. Revealing to extremely religious parents that one is atheist is oftentimes not the best policy; the potential for hurt feelings, arguments, and far-reaching consequences is simply too high. How, then, is one to reconcile this with the idea that all people should be fully accepting? For certain parents in this situation might one day 'understand' their child's belief, but the bias against it will always be there. There will always be friction. There is never that smooth transition. (Ironically, this is probably worse if you've lived in an atheist community and you have discovered and strong personal faith, hence the 'shrinking' limit of acceptability.)

So then, what do onions have to do with it? We as people, are like onions. We have layers upon layers in our behavior, and we grow outward and face the world while protecting values and ideas we hold dear. Our outside is oftentimes a tough (though not necessarily opaque) skin, designed to maintain our self-cohesion and prevent our identities from breaking apart into a messy glob of thoughts and philosophical matter. As whole onions, we sit, and we grow, and we are fairly stable.

Don't cut the onion. Sometimes, it is best not to illicit an answer from someone because you know it will only make everyone around you cry. To allow people to keep their secrets, no matter how much you wish to know them or how dearly you wish to change their minds, is perhaps the truest form of understanding and acceptance we have not quite mastered yet. If ever.

Today is hot outside and I'm tired from work; therefore, I am lazy. And eating fried rice.

Cheers.

Chicken/Egg, Pot/Kettle

A few moments ago, I was randomly idlying on Facebook (some things will never change) when I came across the impassioned statement of a friend of mine expressing a sharp conviction not to live with her parents. The various comments that other people had written, ranging from 'keep your head down, you'll get over it' to 'yeah, move out, move out now' reminded me of my own, somewhat similar experiences. Sure, I have never really had to live with my parents after the age of eighteen, where a smart combination of begging, student loans, and odd-jobs managed to keep me through, but I had always wondered what it would be like to live with my parents as an adult. Would things be easier? Harder?

All parents have expectations of their children; the degree of said expectations ranges from 'You will be president of the United States' to 'oh, just try not to kill yourself.' However, expectations still exist and abound and it is prudent for us, as children and as future parents, to try an understand why our parents think and feel in certain ways. Oftentimes, the generation gap between us makes any form of discourse somewhat difficulty, though I believe such a thing is mitigated should we be raised with a sense of intellectual curiosity and understanding.

But I for one could never live with my parents again past the age of eighteen. The idea of now constantly having to be beholden to someone else, especially during the younger rebellious years, puts a dampener on a great deal of things. To be sure, the support and love our parents give us (and their invaluable and sometimes overly critical advice) is crucial; however, it is also crucial for us to make our own decisions and determine through that, what it is we wish to achieve, attain, and assimilate. Though this differs from person to person, for me personally, I required a large amount of freedom and space in order to successfully discover my own desires; now, I can't return back to a place where, despite free food and laundry, I would have to be obedient and listen.

True, we are all beholden to other things; to our friends, our loved ones, our government, our society. However, parents are perhaps the stickiest of all such influences. In almost all cases, I believe that the love between a parent and a child supersedes a great deal except a child's urge to develop. Do we perhaps resent our parents for having such strong influences over us, when we appear not to have the same towards them? Maybe it is this sort of feeling, the idea that we have been shaped and raised and altered before our own conscious minds have even developed, that leads at least some if not all of us to become frustrated with our parents. It is not simply because they are 'people that irritate us,' it is perhaps the nature of the relationship that irritates us.

Yet, as I reflect over my own life, I have little doubt that my presence influenced my mother; perhaps even to a higher degree than she has influenced me. Children always change things, and their parents are no exception. For a person to suddenly now be responsible for a helpless little baby, placed with the burdens of comforter, disciplinarian, and homemaker, a change must be invoked. Thus, before our parents place their hopes, dreams, and aspirations on our shoulders and shape our minds to their ideal view, the very act of our birth has already shaped them.

Just like how the birth of our own children will one day, shape us to become new people as well.

Today is sunny and I woke up too early. Therefore, I am lazy.

Cheers.

Do or Do Not

As I sit here by my new coffee table with my roommate (in his terribly stylish classes) sitting nearby while the two of us jam to Rachmaninoff's 2nd Piano Concerto, I am struck with how comfortable it has been to move to settle into California. For the weeks prior to my trip across the country, I stressed and worried a great deal about whether the transition would be smooth or bad enough to drive me to alcoholism, but it has turned out instead, to be a fairly comfortable trip albeit not without its slight problems. All of my concerns about the solitude, the adjustment, and the paranoia on losing my 1400 dollar laptop melted away in the face of good company, decent weather, and jetlag.

It's quite odd how adaptable we are sometimes, but in many ways, it is gratifying to know that the world can still surprise us; and to know that we can still surprise ourselves. Perhaps my years living on the East Coast have sufficiently embittered me enough with the sensibility of 'always right' confidence, but I am pleased that I still have the capacity to be mollified when I am wrong about something. Sitting here in a comfortable, plush environment with the music switching to the L'isle Joyeuse over an awesome sound system (that my roommate brought with him), I wonder why I was apprehensive at all.

It is no secret that I endorse thinking as the primary way to make decisions because foresight is arguably much better than Epimetheus, but there are times when action is also needed and the best course. To do something, in that split second of action much like that of a reaction reaching critical mass or a person's conviction hitting a certain level, is as necessary as it is to consider carefully the repercussions of those actions; to be sure, it is the moderate approach that is the most fruitful, neither extreme nor end. Thinking too much on any action will often result simply in more thinking and in the end, it is not the thinking that gets things done. Thinking only shows us the ways and hopefully, the best possible way.

Though I will posit myself always as a thinker first and a doer second, I can never disavow the utility of action. Even moreso, there are times when I am liable to fall into my own traps of circular analysis resulting in only a static perpetuation of the status quo; and it is in those times that I should hope to improve my person and become more proactive in changing things to what I believe they ought to be. It is not in my nature personally to oftentimes be so bold, but if anything else, it can only serve to usher in new types of experiences I have not yet encountered, and new things for me to learn.

Today is not rainy (does this place ever get rainy?) but it's warm, so I'm lazy. I should probably at some point change the name of my blog to 'Lazy when Sunny' to reflect my new environment.

Cheers.

Happiest Place on Earth

I was being geeky the other day and reading the blog for Final Fantasy XII (one of my favorite games for the PS2; heavily recommended for RPG and MMO buffs!) and I came across the lore entry for one of the characters in the game. Long story short, and without seeming both like a tremendous dork and ... well, a tremendous dork, the story of the character was that after seeing the world go through its dark ages a few thousand times, a sense of dejection compressed itself into hatred and then spurred the character's new found obsession in world annihlation; much the backstory of any cliche direct-to-DVD release or anime megalomaniac. However, it did get me thinking.

No, I'm not going to blow up the world, even if the majority of the things I write about tend to be dark, depressing, sarcastic, loathesome and full of hate for humanity. It got me thinking about what it means to be an observer and most importantly, how much influence our observations have upon our own supposed objectivity.

I've often said that people should strive to seek as any experiences as possible, a balance both between holding an open mind and a judgmental decision making power, but I've never quite noted how one is supposed to deal with the emotional impact other than thinking it out logically. Surely, our experiences do leave emotional impacts; it would make little sense for them not to, although we might sometimes aspire to be as cold as we wish. This lends a fundamental flaw to experiential learning; how do we maintain objectivity?

In nowhere is this more prevalent than in romance. With the amount of hurt feelings and the sheer impact love makes on people in general, it is the easiest for objectivity to be broken completely. Much like secondhand smoking, even observing the multitude of pain that erupts from such situations, for anyone who is slightly empathic, results in a dimmer view on the spirit of love. Unfortunately, this emotional sort of problem cannot be dealt with by logic; it must be dealt with some form of an emotional solution. Like solves like and sadly, while I loathe the idea of dealing with emotions in such a fashion, I will have no choice but to dismiss logic and simply state, 'people will get over it.'

I have immense respect for people with extremely high emotional tolerance, capable of bouncing back from anything that actually happens. Despite my inward hatred for such things as internal optimism, I can't help but admit that sadly, it is potentially the only vaccine against the invasive darkness of bad experience. For the rest of us lonesome fellows, the happiest place on earth isn't where we're starting, but hopefully a place we can find by our own means.

Tonight, I'm watching 'Dorm Life,' which is awesome. Hence, I am lazy.

Cheers.

WWFOG (aka 'people have thought up better satires than me')

As I was getting used to my new frugal lifestyle preparing for graduate school (gone are the days of cheap Chinese food and hello 'crackers with peanut butter' and 'rice'), I was reading one of my favorite forums and came across the gem of a flame thread about the WWFOG.

To the uninitiated (read: people who aren't as dorky as I am), the WWFOG is a venture trying to unite professional gaming across the States under one banner, trying to serve as somewhat of a regulatory body similar to the NFL, KeSPA, and the editors of Science and Nature. The company promises sponsored leagues, tournaments, teams, and boasts a roster of '200 professional players,' many of which are situated in one team; Empire Arcadia. In order to participate in this league (and the term participate means 'be able to post on the WWFOG forums'), one must pay a yearly few of ten bucks, the equivalent of twenty packets of ramen noodles, enough to feed me for twenty days (thirty if I'm willing to pass out from low blood sugar).

As much as I like this idea, I can't help but be skeptical that the founders haven't done their homework. Admittedly, I'm going to cheat on my homework (as I only keep up with two 'professional' game scenes and one of them is a children's card game not named YGO) but just from the way these two scenes handle leagues, I forsee major, major problems. For one thing, WotC and KeSPA have strong, established bases within a very narrow range; the former caters to 25 year olds who love doing math in their head and playing with effects like 'destroy,' 'counter,' and 'exile,' and the latter live at their computers until being forced by the program to order a pizza (oh, whoops, wrong game). What the WWFOG is trying to do, however, is go multi-platform and this is a major, major problem. Instead of focusing on the solid fundamentals of a small and rabid fanbase, they attempt to appeal to the mass 'market' of gamers and thus, expose one fundamental misconception both within the old man financial founder of this enterprise and those who would currently support their logistical failings.

'Gamers are all the same.'

Gamers, sadly, are not all the same and if you didn't reach this conclusion from the financial powerhouse that is the Nintendo Wii (Samus x Team Ninja = amazing, btw), then you're either an ostrich or a moron. With so many genres prevalent in gaming, comparable to the variety within other entertainment industries such as film and music, it is a fallacy to say that gamers are somehow one 'large target minority of a demographic,' which is sadly exactly how WWFOG is treating them. Gaming is mainstream now, with middle aged women playing Cooking Mama (the irony here is delicious), young girls playing Hannah Montana's newest digital adventure, and even old women playing Wii Sports. The fact that I'm using all female examples with a high prevalence of occurence supports my statement even more; gaming is mainstream. If you want to appeal to gamers, you can't treat the whole body of gamers as the same body, and from WWFOG's perspective, that would be people who play games to be the best at something. Out of scope.

Even within professonal gaming, the variety of genres across the board means that focusing on a smaller player base is simply a better idea. A pro-SC player could care less about YGO, and a pro-SF4 player could care less about a Disgaea DS tournament (do these even exist?). How can you try for a mass-market appeal if the majority of your target market won't care about the other members? Simply put, you can't. It's folly to try. Gamers will be divisive, and you're better off making the individual leagues in specific games and then having your fanbase diversify as they see fit. Bad business is bad.

Well, at least internet drama will entertain me while I'm starving to death.

Today is sunny, but USPS screwed up my mail. Hence, I'm lazy.

Cheers.

Never Never Neverland

When I was young, I always thought that once I reached a certain age, I would instantly become 'an adult.' To my little, Asian brain, maturity and adulthood were things that instantly happened after one passed a certain age, sort of like spontaneous evolution or divine conception. The idea that we 'grow' towards a certain point and that stages, in fact, were mutable and somewhat fuzzy had not yet occurred to me. Instead, I just believed that when I approached the age of 18, I would instantly wake up and know everything I was supposed to do and develop the capabilities that adults had, like paying taxes and drinking champagne like an Englishman.

I now pay other people to do my taxes and drink champagne like an American.

By the age of 10, I had sufficient real-world experience to denote the entire concept of 'maturity' as 'crap.' It might have been my pre-teen emo hormone concentrations shooting up to unprecedented levels, but when one becomes aware of adults and the dumb things they do (extramarital affairs, bad financial decisions, really bad fashion decisions, etc), one tends to become somewhat cynical. Aware that I was traveling down this path of darkness (I had read way too many fantasy books at this point), I decided to decry maturity as simply 'a concept with no foundational basis and incorrectly assumes the proper course of action.' It was during this time, with my tarnished image of adulthood, that I began to conceive of a list of things adults should embody (which would later grow to my concepts of moralism and the like).

The idea that we progress in small incremental steps never really occurred to me as something I underwent, but rather something I observed in other people. Like a kid who picks himself up off the ground after skinning his knee for the umpteenth time, or the girl who cries incessantly at dating the quarterback who's banging just about everyone in the school, people take their punches, roll, and step up. Was this, then, 'personal growth?' The gain we received from experiential knowledge, as simple as a child knowing that 'if fire is hot, if hot things hurt, I should not touch fire,' that is what defined growth? It occurred to me that it was somewhat counterintuitive to think of life (and not just human life, but all forms of 'progress') in 'stages' when it was actually a vast continuum from point A to point B.

So what is adulthood? Maturity? Do we simply grow by steps and are suddenly proclaimed mature after certain qualities have been embodied, or are we never actually 'mature' and only approach the limit of it all?

(And why should I care?)

The definition of maturity differs between people, but generally appears as a list of characteristics one believes should be embodied within a 'mature' entity. Generally, they include skills and things like 'being able to deal with emotions in ways that don't detriment oneself and others,' 'being able to communicate,' 'being socially adept,' and so forth but can also include things such as 'altruism,' 'understanding,' and 'compassion.' It should be noticed that much of the colloquial general definition of maturity is not centered among the 'mature' person, but among the people around him or her. As such, we can interpret maturity as a rough approximation of 'social awareness' as a whole.

However, it's odd to think about it like this. Instead of being mature for ourselves, we are mature for the sake of others; instead, for example, of considering others because it is 'the right thing to do' (notably using a different logical track than 'we should be mature' as the sole reason), we do it because it allows us to be called 'mature.' By according a status to such actions, we do make it more attractive and thus, more likely for people to do but we also remove the reasoning as to why we do it in the first place. This inverted reasoning (we do things to be mature, not becoming mature by doing such things) leads to a great deal of deception; fundamentally, it leads to problems.

If the reasoning isn't present intrinsically that we should do good things because they are the 'right things' to do., then we simply won't do the right things in situations where they won't be recognized. We see this present in the deepest motivations of people, mainly when emotions suddenly become concerned, leading to no sense of chivalry but instead to things like selfishness coming out, and in situation where there's alcohol. When true personalities come out, those who are 'consciously mature' suddenly revert to their normal 'immature' selves, and then all sorts of awkward turtles are suddenly birthed into the world. My point is people shouldn't push themselves to 'become' mature; instead, they should understand it from a more primal, fundamental level of altruism.

It is entirely possible, though, that people won't ever 'become mature' in this sense because people sometimes never do reach the point where they understand why they should help others. However, in some ways, maybe it is better if people remain their honest selves, selfishness and all, and not simply become people they are not ready to be solely because they want to be 'mature.' At least in that way, people won't lose too much of themselves in confusion and life as it turns out, though might not becoming 'better,' will at least be a bit simpler.

Tonight, I cracked and ordered Chinese food and became full; hence, I am lazy.

Cheers.

The Hammer Falls

I had the most fascinating experience last night of watching one of my friends in a fit of repressed emotion down the equivalent of three glasses of red wine, turn bright red, and fall asleep after alternating between being a sobbing wreck, a budding nudist, and a crazy version of Dr. House. What was not so fascinating, however, was (thank god with a friend) dragging her into a taxi cab, into a bed, and making sure she didn't spend the night choking on her own vomit. The dawn greeted me as I wearily bought an issue of TIMES magazine and fell asleep in my own bed at six-thirty in the morning.

What have I learned from this experience, aside from people should not guzzle cheap, red wine?

People will always be there to help you if you need it. For most of us, we all have a support system, a series of friends, confidants, and the like who are willing to put themselves out there because of our own personal issues, or because we simply need a hug. Throughout our lifetimes we both depend on such systems and act as parts of those systems, a massive series of gives-and-takes to assure that when we get wasted and puke in the middle of the street, the guy who owes you for last week will be rubbing your back and calling a cab to take you home. However, there are times when we are alone, that we should examine such systems because intrinsically, there is always that danger of being too dependent.

Where do we draw the line? Between having problems we can handle ourselves, and problems where we need others; and more importantly, in the sense of being the one helping? Are there things that people should simply learn on their own that no amount of scaffolding can teach, or are they mostly things we can rationally understand and avoid from our friends and loved ones? This is an interesting question and, empirically, results in the following simplified form. How deeply should we care? To what extent should we invest our time, energy, and compassion if someone is constantly troubled, and for what aim?

As I was half-passing out on the way home from exhaustion, I realized that despite knowing the situation would irritate me (c'mon, escorting drunk chicks home, one of which who was hysterical? who wouldn't be irritated by that!), the line I drew for good or for ill, was quick, decisive, and hopefully for the best. I then realized what sort of burdens those who had to make this decision every day have to carry on their shoulders. The doctor in the ER who must triage, the general who must send his boys to war. The executive who balances between economics and the greater good, the president between politics and dreams. This decision I made and the subsequent consequences drained me completely and from my stupor, I could understand then why people have devoted their lives to things that perhaps are so irritating and difficult to manage. You don't do it because you want to, or because you love it, or because any of those reasons actually matter at the core; those are just the tricks and the shiny advertisements.

You do it because you made the call for both its appropriateness, and its utility. In short, because it was the right thing to do. That aforementioned line between our action and inaction then, perhaps, is the line of 'rightness,' the line that reminds us once we step across, that we are no longer acting because of an aim, or a motive, but for the ideal of 'the right thing.'

I must say that doing the right thing is a very tiring experience. However, it is perhaps an aim that we can all aspire to for each and every action, within each and every profession.

Today is cloudy, and because I slept like crap yesterday, I am lazy.

Cheers.

Pillows and Blankets

You know the feeling when the weather outside is gloomy, and the rain pours down like watery tendrils of some gigantic beast from the sky on its way through the earth and sewer drains? It's that instinctive urge to stay where you are, mash your head against a comfortably large and extravagant pillow, and then pull the blankets over you as though you were some little caterpillar undergoing a transformation; and maybe you are. When the sun rises again the next day, or in the next few hours, you'd thrust off your protective shell and dress and go dancing out but until then, you rather stay where it's warm and safe.

It's human instinct to avoid things that seem dangerous, just as it is with all animals whom are concerned with self-preservation. However, we have the perchance of viewing not only the physical things as dangers to ourselves, but also the metaphysical things that hide behind the curtain; for instance, the death of a loved one. The sense of fear. The pain of loneliness. We would often avoid all in favor of the warm blankets and pillows that make up our beds because, well, it is our instinct.

But much like an allergic reaction or an overzealous immune system, this protective mechanism can sometimes go horribly wrong. The child who has known only comfort in his surroundings, and just enough anguish to know what to avoid, will never grow. His experiences have a hard cap; he is limited solely to that which he has built around him. His environment has become his protective shell and unlike the waking of the dawn and the throwing off of blankets to greet the world, he won't ever have that awakening. The instinctual response we all have to seek only comfort has turned now, into a detriment. Naturally, the depicted case of a NEET is only a theoretical (and rarely realistic extreme, barring video game addicts and obsessive otaku junkies), but we can see less pronounced behavior in all of us, if we only choose to look.

Perhaps it is a response to adolescence, where much confusion is to be had from new experiences themselves and our ability to maintain both self-cohesion and internalize new sensory information is pushed to the limit, but as people grow older, the experiences they seek tend to streamline. This could be, granted, a consequence of finding one's place, the natural placement of one in the universe but at the same time, it could simply be comfort within circumstance. Such mindsets give rise to all sorts of strange creatures, such as 'relationships of convenience,' 'unhappy work environments,' and 'depression;' and perhaps it is because past some point, some mental age, we become too afraid to seek what we are lacking and cling to what we already have. Those who are adventurous cling to the thrill of adrenaline; those who are homemakers seek only to make more homes; those who are comforted by singles bars and one-night stands cling to, well, singles bars and one-night stands.

We grow afraid of the new and stay with convention because convention is known. The new is not and perhaps, can never be. Curiosity is only as strong as we are.

Yet, if you stay wrapped within pillows and blankets, you will never understand how the rainwater feels as it cascades over your eyes. You will never feel the winds as the storm blows through, nor hear the footsteps of a thousand sprites, and you will never see the dawn break through the cloud cover. Sure, perhaps you would dislike it; perhaps it is only wet, and cold, and damp, but how can you ever know if you don't cast off your blankets right now and go seeking? We all have our comfort zones, but it is when we step out of them, to places where we are afraid, uncomfortable, and unfamiliar, that we truly gain something new. To be more accurate, the opportunity to gain something new.

I am, of course, aware of my own personal boundaries for comfort; I dislike too much noise, too many people, anything in real excess and prefer at times to be alone with my own thoughts and musings. However, do I believe I can truly understand what 'too much noise' to me means if I do not step outward? The seek for new experiences should not be the same soft comforts we have always known, but the things that challenge us to change. It is only with change that we grow. It is only with growth than we can advance and hopefully, find something new beyond the pillows we keep on our bed.

The next time you feel a place is 'not your scene,' or a dish is 'not your taste,' give it a shot. It is through that that you'll change, and sometimes, aren't the wings of a butterfly better than the little feet of a caterpillar?

Today is sunny, but incredibly hot outside. Therefore, I am lazy.

Cheers.

Little Red-Haired Girls

As a young kid, I enjoyed reading Peanuts strips for their humor, awesome drawings, and Snoopy's crazy antics. One of the strongest themes that struck me from the series was the amount of unrequited romance between all sorts of characters; Lucy and Schroeder, Sally and Linus, and of course, Charlie Brown and the little red-haired girl. Of all, arguably, it is the latter that is the most soulful and the one that hits us all home, for we've all been like Charles Schultz, and therefore like Charlie Brown trying to share his lunch with some dream wandering off into the distance.

To be clinical, romance is just a form of emotional attachment; just a form of 'bonding' between people for some biological imperative that perhaps we are now too deluded to fully understand or even acknowledge. Maybe as a species, it was somehow determined that if love brings parents together into a nurturing environment for their offspring, then it would only produce children who are well-cared for and therefore successful. From that sprung a fountain of which love was born, some immutable bond by design meant to ensure survival and maximize the chances for our children and our children's children. Too bad that the creation of love was a Pandora's Box for all sorts of possibly unintended consequences; jealousy, hatred, divorce, protective custody, and foster homes. I sometimes wonder that if whoever shapes the hands of evolution were to see this havoc, what feelings would emerge.

But yet, what a Pandora's Box it was. With love came compassion and not just the rather moralistic high ground of pure altruism (which, by the way, I fully endorse and believe in) but the muddy areas of trampled wild flowers and fulfillment. Elation then, was next and all of the rush and the adrenaline and the excitement, and contentment followed; not just any contentment, but the real form of peace one has with the moment (notably, usually attained after years of meditation). There are times when even I wonder if the benefits of the existence of love outweigh the massive list of detriments, the long-term consequences, and the breaking of so many Charlie Brown hearts.

Yet, perhaps what love is at heart (pun!), intended or unintended, is a purpose. We live for love because it ties into every aspect of our lives, be it our children's children, our own fulfillment, or some other unfathomnable reason. It is a drive, a crucial mental rule and a fail-safe that prevents us as a species from annihlating ourselves. Perhaps when evolution occured within our then-primitive brains, the idea that our burgeoning intellect could only lead to our destruction was realized by the powers that be, and in turn, we grew the capacity to love. Sure, it might have killed many of us either through the guns of jealous lovers or the resulting mental depression of doom, but it has saved us too; love for one another preventing too many atomic bombs from being launched, preventing us from turning into male lions ripping apart competitors, preventing us from going through sometimes with the most dastardly of deeds.

Perhaps with this understanding, we might even one day overcome love's darker shades, and see only for the benefits it has given us. Consider that the next time you sit beside your little red-haired girl (or guy), and in turn, be grateful for what they have given you, even from just a moment's glance to an entire lifetime.

Grudgingly, I suppose I must do the same.

Today started rainy, but has progressed to a 'passable' sunlit day. However, I am still lazy.

Cheers.

Quincy Archer Hates You

In my forays into the realm of educational philosophy, I have discovered one thing that irks me beyond almost everything else (well, potentially except the lack of real logical rigor that provides a soft mushy backbone for just about anything). All of the people in education seem to be in there because they get a sense of happiness from actually helping someone out. The way they talk and giggle about the cute traits they discover in their current and/or soon-to-be little darlings simply offends my sensibilities and makes me wish desperately I could just listen to my iPod and drown them out (I would, would it not be rude, impolite, and completely insulting).

Please don't misunderstand; this doesn't mean I believe teachers and educators should not feel anything when helping out students. I simply don't believe that this feeling should be the forefront reason for someone to pursue teaching as an occupation. It is akin to me believing that if playing music makes you happy, then that's a personal issue; but to become a professional musician simply for that reason is somewhat selfish and short-sighted. It is idealistic to the point of recklessness and for teachers, being reckless means messing up a child's life and removing one otherwise productive member of society from play.

Altruism and humanitarianism are central concepts to this discussion of 'how one should feel.' The fact remains that many people do deeds out of good-will perhaps not entirely out of wanting to help someone else (and in some cases, not at all) but for the personal joy of having done something to help someone else. Functionally, in a utilitarian way, this has little to no effect but as a purist, I believe there is almost something fundamentally wrong with this approach to any sort of compassion. When helping others, the forefront should not be necessarily 'it makes me feel good,' but 'how can I best help them;' with personal bias (I feel good!) tied into this, it isn't so much doing something for others as it is doing something for yourself. I cannot subscribe to this because it is illogical and frankly speaking, can lead to tunnel vision.

The best examples come from family. Some aunt or a mother might feel great at doing something nice for someone even if it is completely unwarranted and has no justification; something like bringing an apple pie to a dinner party hosted by someone else that is sure to include dessert comes up fairly readily. If we discount the possibility that bringing a second dessert is a slight (not very subtle but certainly hurtful), we are then left with 'I didn't know dessert was being served' (ignorant but hardly hateful or detrimental) and 'I knew but I wanted to do something nice for them even at the cost of offending them' (both 'pure' altruism and 'false' altruism). If one was embodying 'true' altruism, one wouldn't bother bringing the dessert if one knew it would have an adverse reaction on the host; if one was embodying 'false' altruism, however, it is easy to justify bringing the pie even if one knew. 'I'm just doing something nice, they'll understand' is an often-heard phrase that really means 'I am doing something nice to make myself feel better for some reason or another.'

Things like these can surpass the familial sphere and affect all the manner of situations from the corporate world to the street and all can be explained in part by 'blindness' brought about by the feel-good of altruistic acts. Sure, I'm willing to bet that around half of these social faux-pas occur because of actual ignorance, but the rest can probably be chalked up to people intentionally blinding themselves because they like the feel-good high of 'helping' someone. In nowhere is this more prominent than in something like missionary work; who can judge whether one is really doing this for the potential converts or is actually doing it for a personal emotional gain? This fact has actually always been a crucial component of why I am both highly wary and critical of extremely 'giving' people and in tandem, most charities and such organizations.

In a sad application of these thoughts, it also makes martyrdom much less attractive. Was the guy who camped out in front of a forest trying to do something great for the environment because he believes it, or because he enjoyed the high of stopping a bunch of construction workers in their tracks? Who can tell these things aside from subtle clues in body language and facial expression (Lie to Me FTW), but even then, elation is elation. The reason behind the elation is what matters the most and thus, one cannot garner perhaps a definite answer unless one has the patience to interact and speak with the subjects in question. Even at that point, it is still guesswork to a degree.

Our perceptions determine our reality, to quote Obi-wan Kenobi, and this makes trusting of someone else's empirical motive difficult to do to any logical and rational skeptic. But it is only through introspection and objective analysis (as best we can) that we can avoid tunnel-vision in our charitable effects and not cause a misguided disaster, however well-intentioned it may have been.

Today is crappy weather outside and I'm on campus typing this post in lieu of finishing my second required 'synthesis paper' (read: feel-good paper on education) due in four days. Therefore, I am lazy. At least I can trust myself that I am generally always lazy, even if I doubt many of my classmates are going into teaching for reasons in addition to and other than 'self-fulfillment.'

Cheers.

Sobering Thought

One of the wonderful things about learning is that it never stops. After elementary school is middle school, after that is high school, and after undergraduate study is the pseudo-graduate era where one takes professional, pre-professional, and esoteric classes in an attempt to learn various useful and not-so-useful things. However, more often than not, these experiences allow us to view the world in new and more interesting ways, considering points that we might not have originally conceived of, or reaffirming truths we had always known somewhere deep in our little hearts.

It was only after I had walked out of the second class of my second education class of all time that I realized something. 'US high school teachers suck. Hard. And it's probably not going to change.'

Though I can probably write pages and pages on why this is so, some of which might actually be supported by real, quantitative evidence, I will instead remark only on the sobering nature of the discovery of such a bold statement and comment only on the logic that lead up to this rather cynical conclusion. Probably in a series of posts. A point in each one.

The first point is that the pool of teachers and educators is simply too soft. I admittedly, am an elitist and have a large amount of derision when it comes to 'soft' things, but precisely one of the problem with teaching is the lack of a hard philosophy. Teaching theory is a social institution and it is precisely because of this fact that relativism almost exclusively dominates any methodology and any theoretical discussion. The premise of this is simple; every student is different, with various factors that all influence how one learns and there is no 'right' answer. Relativism, therefore, regulates educational theory to 'what is best by individual basis,' and attempts to apply common solutions to wider, and wider pools until you end up with a system that is applicable to a logistically large enough group of people. This is why there are schools with distinct teaching philosophies; they essentially take an individual solution and slowly widen the pool of applicable subjects until it is enough to base an entire school on. One can extrapolate this rather skeletal (read: mildly reductionist) process to all sorts of things but I'll leave those to readers who are interesting in theoretical thinking while intoxicated or otherwise.

There is one thing I would like to point out. Tailoring distinct solutions for specific groups of people (for example, standardized test takers vs intuitive Performance-Based Assessment type learners vs people who learn by watching porn) and then separating them into schools ('programs' on a smaller scale though the division, notably, is less severe) is a form of categorizing students into distinct groups. Another word for this is 'segregation.'

The idea that there 'is no solution' (the always-repeated 'there is no right answer' mantra) is often used as a justification for this form of 'educational discrimination.' Surely, if there is no right answer then there must be 'many right answers,' each of them equally valid and applicable, right? And because of that, each of these learning environments is theoretically equal in utility when applied to their student population, right? Something like that?

If none of this makes sense, then good. It doesn't make sense either to me either. The application of hard logic into such a soft system makes the subject matter almost fall apart entirely and thus, a new form of understanding can only be reached by a new viewpoint.

Let's start with the student. It is a clear given that all people learn in different ways, and that the natural ability of all people are different (my omission of 'potential' from this statement should be enough to appease those 'fairness' folks). Thus, it is not a stretch to say that the optimal way of learning is probably different for each and every person. In an idealized case (and we'll deal with logistics after setting up this theoretical system), an educational system would be able to be optimally efficient with each kid, using precisely each individual student's way of learning. This is the basis for things such as one-on-one tutoring, homeschooling, and other things that deal with the student as an individual. However, while this might be ideal, it is not feasible. Here's where logistics come into play.

Obviously, we can't have every student in the world have one or more teachers for each subject and individual attention all the time. Let's start with the simplest 'complex' case; two students, being taught at the same time. Any teaching methodology, therefore, has to be an amalgam of the two student's ideal and thus, is now an average of the two. In addition, there is the emergent property of 'interaction;' that is, the students are not wholly separated from one another and will interact. As a teacher, all of these factors must be considered, though perhaps not with equal weight. For example, if both students willingly do not interact with one another, student interaction is downgraded in importance because the chance of it being a crucial 'key property' is much lower. Similarly, if both students model close enough ideal learning methodologies, any 'differences' between the two can be downplayed due to again, a low chance of diference being a crucial considerable factor. As more and more students are added to this system, more and more properties emerge but the method we use to teach effectively with two students will be more or less the same as the method to teach multiple students.

The teaching methodology will be, therefore, an 'average' of the ideals between all students because that is the solution that best meets the needs of the group as a whole. This methodology is to be further modified in effectiveness based on emergent properties (intrinsic cultural differences, student-student interaction, etc) which need to be judged on how much impact each property would have on the overall learning of the group. True, there might not be a unified answer that is equally efficient to everyone within a group but this is certainly not 'many answers with equal value.' In fact, this points to one distinct single answer, even if that answer is simply a 'best-fit.'

However, if we take a closer look, we see that one should not be fitting students into teaching methodologies, but fitting methodologies over students. In this vein, segregating children into different schools with different teaching methods is the exact opposite of this conclusion. While logistically it might allow for the job to be easier, as teachers have a preformed methodology already made that needs minimal tinkering to fit into each class, it is not ideal because it prevents students from meeting with students who learn entirely differently; in short, it mitigates progressive education movements entirely. A part of experiential learning is being placed into situations, particularly ones one is not used to, and meeting people one perhaps has not met. How can this occur if children are already presegregated by the very schools they go to based on something as esoteric and unyielding as 'learning method'?

Some might disavow this interaction as important, but if schools really are a social institution, well, it is clear this interaction is as important as having more than one teacher through 12 years of standardized education and not being in the same homeroom for those same 12 years. Ironically, it takes hard rigor to reach this conclusion as opposed to the soft 'all solutions are equally valid' approach that is the essence of circle-jerk education courses. No, not all solutions are equally valid; no, there probably isn't a universal methodology in the colloquial definition, but this should be decided by class to class, not through a pre-screening process to make things easier. In some ways, progressive educational reforms pidgeon-hole children almost as badly as standardized testing does by stripping away 'the world' with completely tailored learning environments.

'Free-learning' environments seem to be the best solution to this, as they allow for individualized discovery by students and no 'set philosophies' (in the colloquial sense of the word) for students to abide by. However, a problem with pure free-learning environments is the utter lack of structure. Will kids learn on their own? Won't they? Clearly, I as an observer should not leap into free schools as a solution against pidgeon holing, despite the environment certainly supporting the idea of 'methodology fit into children' as opposed to 'children fit into a methodology.' But where should structure come from? Teaching method, which I just pretty much argued against for a standard (and thus, a structure)? Results and assessment methods? Taste in TV shows?

That's a question for another time. For now, the conclusions to be reached are the following for you tl;dr peeps.

1) The most effective teaching methodology for a given sample of students is one which best resembles the average ideal methodology for the group. This insures the teacher hits the largest amount of students possible with the greatest yield, as opposed to favoring one group over all others through the decision on what methods to use.

2) The given is the student population. In terms of what this means, it suggests that teachers should tailor methodologies to a student population, making the entire process student-centric.

3) Segregation occurs when students are divided by learning methodology. This intrinsically is not a problem, but results in conditioning students to learn in certain ways through institutions devoted to only one teaching methodology (or, to be more precise, one family of educational theory); in other words, making the entire process method-centric.

4) While being 'method-centric' is not inherently a problem, it results in two problems. One, students are removed from 'choosing' their own learning method (self-discovery) and are pidgeon-holed based on either performance, environmental, or other criteria. Two, students who are therefore segregated into an institution with only one or one family of teaching methodologies lose the interaction with students who learn differently, removing experiential learning. In layman's terms, students learn to deal only with the same, not with the different.

5) Method-centric segregation stems from the false premise that if there is no answer, all answers must be equally valid in some way. This not only fails to examine 'best-fit' solutions, but also allows ideas to propagate that fit only extremely specific people that cannot be applied to other cases. Note with student-centric thought, these same ideas can all be reached but innately have a distinct context for application and for consideration in future development. Also note that 'best-fit' is not the same as 'shotgun technique.'

6) Free schools provide an environment where there is no set methodology (colloquial sense). However, there is, at the same time, a lack of structure that is intrinsically present in other schools (where methodology serves as the structure). Thus, two questions arise; is structure required, and if so, what sort?

Tune in next time for more psychobabble!

Today is sunny, but I'm lazy (and somewhat disappointed).

Cheers.

Gold Star!

People love to hate other people for being untalented. I, sadly, am no exception to the rule, for I too partake in such guilty pleasures as laughing at American Idol contestants, giggling to myself mindlessly when hearing drunk people karaoke, and watching MTV's 'Made.' It is, for some reason, a common fact among humanity that seeing other people 'lower' than our own talents somehow makes us feel better; perhaps this is some form of biological imperative in that we realize if 'singing' and 'dancing' well makes us more likely to survive, we're much more likely to survive than that pretend hip-hop dancer over there.

However, there are moments that, for whatever reason, we automatically ascribe bad characteristics (e.g. she can't sing, he can't dance) based solely on what we see. Humans, myself included, are oftentimes so quick to judge based on looks, or personal wants, or preference that we miss some of the greatest talents of our time simply because we weren't looking. By now, everyone knows who Susan Boyle is; ten or twenty years ago, she was just an anonymous face in the crowd. Of course, this form of judgment based on a social stigma transcends merely looks and goes in further; white boys can't rap, guitar players can't understand music, sociologists can't understand hard science. Some really are simply because an object embodies qualities we would not expect normally in someone proficient in the craft and others are actually true due to deep, underlying reasons.

Musical stigma is perhaps the biggest and most widespread one, but perhaps the most prominent is that between classical music enthusiasts and everyone else. Classical music is to many, the pinnacle of musical talent in performance and composition, containing complicated riffs and emotions and ensembles that are simply ten times larger or more than popular music groups. People who have been raised on classical music sniff that other genres simply do not have the depth of display and consequently, have given rise to a mentality of classical music being elitist and completely unapproachable. I'm not even speaking about this in terms of music theory as much as I'm speaking just in terms of perception; certainly, people in classical music today study for years with drills hours and hours a day would believe that little pop singer who took a singing lesson once a week could never understand real dedication to the craft.

Classical music is one of my favorite genres, and the first song I ever cried to upon a listen was by Rachmaninoff. The soaring melody with a gorgeous, rhythmic counter was overwhelming and I admit I started bawling like a little baby. Good music is rooted deeply in the core of humanity's emotional consciousness, and thus, has the potential to inspire any form of emotion from within ourselves. Certainly, this was due to the complex expression, the years of performance practice, the knowledge of how to actualize something as unquantifiable as emotion into counted notes, time, and measure.

Or was it? Recently, I had an emotional reaction to another piece of music; the ending performance in Glee.

I never truly believed that classical music was beautiful because it was the 'highest form of art.' If music, so deeply rooted in emotion, should be judged by the emotional inspirational capacity it contains then certainly classical music contains many gorgeous pieces but every type of music has the capacity to inspire emotion. Sometimes, it's not about how complicated the notes are or how deep the rhythm is, or how much screaming there is or how many guitar parts but simply about how much emotion is placed into the work for it to blossom. As I sat watching Glee and felt the tears on my face, I was somewhat amused that something as simple as a bunch of actors and actresses performing some pop-culture song as a musical would strike me enough deep enough to cause such a response. Maybe it was because there is a beauty in performing with so much emotion that you don't care whether people hate it or dislike it, or even if it sounds beautiful to anyone else but yourself.

Sure, that kid on American Idol might suck to us, and probably could use a few years of lessons and, yeah, should be a bit less defensive when it comes to dealing with how horrible he is but at the same time, you gotta admire the guts he has for performing with the 100% he's got. Perhaps he deserves a gold star not because he was particularly dedicated, or because he was good, but because he was willing to drag the oldest form of music out from himself into the world. Purely artistic expression, with no regard to accepted standards or judgments and only for the sake of birthing something new into the world.

Today is not raining but is mad warm, so I'm staying home to watch Glee again. For the umpteenth time. Man, I wish I could sing.

Cheers.

Sham-WOW!

The reference in the title and how it has to do with my subject matter today might not be very clear (read: obscure like Shakespeare's diary or any joke made by a Trekkie), so I'll just say it out right. The answer is mildew.

Why do we want to buy Sham-WOW (it'll make you say Wow every time!)? Because the cola starts to come out. Because we don't want our carpets to stink from spilled beer, dog pee, and soy sauce. Because we don't want to see it fester, decay, and suddenly reappear one day as a giant, smelly stain that makes you wish you bought Sham-WOW.

People are like this too.

I recently had the pleasure of reading a blog of my friend, in which the author eloquently and rather brazenly decided to tear new holes into 'unfortunate people' who lack the learned skill of empathy. The contention is simple; one who does not share parallel, applicable experiences with someone else is incapable of showing an innate understanding. This is clearly a bad thing, and thus, people should experience tears and bleeding hearts in such a way that they can truly appreciate a real happiness. As an observer (as best I can be, at any rate), I cannot find fault with this train of logic and in fact in some ways, subscribe to this ideal.

However, as I perused the post a second (and then a third, fourth, fifth, and sixth time), I noticed something else. The author makes a secondary claim that those who lack this form of empathy are inherently judgmental. While tiptoeing between phrases that reside between Sarcasm Town and Insultingville, the clear message is that should one understand another person's pain, they would innately know that comfort is the proper response when confronted by someone else's situation. As a corollary, people who willingly grow intimate in terms of feelings and emotions are asking only for understanding and this 'empathy.' The author continually makes the claim that those who lack empathy are oftentimes judgmental, a mentality that those who have experience pain and suffering a la MLK Jr. or Anakin Skywalker cannot and more importantly, should not have to tolerate.

I first scrunched up my nose. I then laughed. I then had a few gulps of Pepsi while my pet bird fell asleep on my shoulder as she often does.

I haven't really written on the subject of pain precisely because it is so subjective, but I do know that for as many people there are in the world, there are just as many mindsets on the matter. People view experience in different ways but one thing that I do believe is common is that we all feel pain and suffering. Sure, my level of suffering cannot compare to that of certain people, and vice versa, but to judge someone's lack of empathy is based on how closely they come to your experience is innately wrong. This would have offended my sensibilities a bit less had it not been written quite so closed to the chest in a semi-confrontation chiding manner, but suffice it to say that a big fat context was needed.

The main gripe, however, is the fact that those who are emotionally open willingly towards people only ask for comfort; a pat on the back, scratch on the head, soft-baked chocolate chip cookie. While it is understandable that people have a 'happy place' against whatever trauma that happens in the world, this mindset implies heavily (both for the author and a more general populace) that it is a requirement and worse, it should be composed only of cushions and compliments. Although normally I am not against a form of 'buffering,' I cannot condone it in this context. Why? The hypocrisy is outstanding.

People have to feel pain to understand pain, sure. But people all deal with pain in different ways. Some people, yes, require a happy room with toys and mommy and time to heal their battered egos; others merely push through it with tenacity. Still others dwell on pain, giving rise to emo children and anyone who listens to Marilyn Manson (I kid, of course). And still others simply accept the pain and the consequence, and move on. Perhaps the author was not so much berating the lack of empathy as a lack of a parallel solution; in this case, happy place. There is little basis inherently in claiming someone doesn't understand pain, and this lack of a clarification doesn't showcase how much the author was possibly mistaken as much as a lack of understanding of others. Pot calling the kettle black, although I suspect that this is closer to pot calling kettle black when the pot is blind.

The kettle might not be black, then.

I talked about communication before and stated how my favorite pets (after my cockatiel, of course) were often birthed from misunderstandings. This is a case, however, that is even further rooted down; an inability to understand a person's world view. We might not agree with everyone else's viewpoint on the world (there are many that I simply cannot condone) but we can at least do our best to understand them. If a misunderstanding in communication is the mildew, then this fundamental disconnect between two perceptions is the festering cola underneath that manifests only after so much time. It is not a matter, then, of examining a statement or changing words but a matter of scrutinizing mindsets and changing viewpoints.

I was reading a speech by some guy named Vonnegut, in which he stated that if Jesus was alive in modern times, he'd probably be persecuted just as heavily. How very, very true. The idea of acceptance is so counterintuitive to so many things, from competition to judgment, from law to war that if Jesus was alive today, we'd lock him up as some kind of lunatic. Yet, perhaps these are tenets that we should strive to live by more and more. Grace. Acceptance. Perhaps not a lack of arrogance, but a sense of understanding. Otherwise, words like the beloved cited author's become more and more commonplace; more and more mildew begins to stink from the various things spilled and lost and ignored.

Bet you wish you bought a Sham-WOW then, huh. I know I would. This is why I try cleaning up my spills as fast as possible!

Today is sunny but because my pet bird is lazy, I too am lazy but not lazy enough to not clean up the pepsi, should I spill any. I unfortunately after all, do not own a Sham-WOW.

Cheers.

Thinking inside the Box

Browsing Facebook generally yield gems in the form of games I can play to waste time, news events about friends and people I don't remember, and occasionally a 'who are you' when I encounter someone I've friended, but do not know. However, tonight it yielded a wonderful Youtube video involving Bill O'Reilly discussing with a student about the harmful discrimination of a teacher against Christians.

Link to the Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xdRGo5rAm54

Let's go over the facts. From as far as I can gather from the news piece (and I'm going to use this Youtube video as the basis for facts on the initial case tonight), a teacher, Dr. James Corbett, reaches Advanced Placement European History in a manner that focuses heavily on religion- including espousing upon the bad influences of religion with phrases such as 'If you put on Jesus glasses, you can't see the proof.' One of the students, Chad Farnan, a sophomore at the time coming from a Christian religious background, was so offended by the statements that he decided to sue the school system (under the establishment clause, stating that any public official cannot show hostility towards a given religion). Within the interview, the lawyer on air with Chad states that the teacher in question has an 'Atheist club' and 'numerous people' who state this teacher has done harm to good people everywhere, with a case that turned a daughter into an 'intolerable know-it-all.' Clearly, Dr. James Corbett is wrong, as the audio tapes (which the student did secretly) prove.

Frankly, this is bullshit.

Do I approve of Dr. Corbett's remarks, first of all. I can't say because the tapes are taken completely out of context. Unfortunately, in order to properly judge statements, one must also make mention of the context in which said remarks are spoken in. I could clearly admit to any number of crimes on a given day, but if I was outside on the street with a bunch of my dorky friends saying 'I killed someone yesterday,' it's extremely difficult to say that is at all anything other than a frivolous statement. These statements are not in context. European History is wrought with instances where religion was a major influencing factor, from setting up the groundwork for the Protestant Reform and the Enlightenment to directly financing movements such as the crusades and the Renaissance. For a teacher to remark that the best way to get 'peasants to oppose something that's in their self-interest' is religion, if taken in the context of a lecture on say, medieval times, is simply put, not at all offensive. It is a reasoning that has firm, historical basis and thus, should be taken as such. I simply cannot fathom how the statement about Jesus glasses blinding people, when taken from the same 'pool' of statements as this one, can be taken as anything being more than provocative. Sure, it's a head turner, but is it offensive?

Not in context.

There are two counterpoints to my point; one is that the context is wrong, and one is that context doesn't matter and empirical statements do. Because no context was provided to me in the video that I am using as my source for facts on this case, I will respond only to the second point. Appropriately enough, it shall be with another video.

Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NrzXLYA_e6E&feature=related
Time: About 1:55

No double standards with me. I'm applying context as a crucial factor in judgment here. Lest all conservatives want to argue that McCain's defense of Palin's position is invalid because it is also applying context, my point's going to stand.

The larger theme in all of this, of course, is the 'fairness' mindset that is being stated in this particular video. Take, for example, O'Reilly's cheeky comment towards Chad asking him if he asked Dr. Corbett why they weren't explaining 'the other side.' The same sort of reasoning applies to people who believe creationism (which is not, for the record, a legitimate scientific theory because it violates falsifiability and hence, should be discussed elsewhere) should be taught alongside evolution in schools. Certainly, as modernism and post-modernism begin to shift the world away from 'traditional values,' one might easily apply the 'fairness' mindset to conservative and argue for the balance; however, to apply 'fairness,' one must see if it was consistent with the past forms of conservatism. Did conservatives argue for social equality towards gays, lesbians, and transgenders because it would be fair? No. Did conservatives argue for evolution to be taught in schools along side the Bible during the Scopes trial? No. Did conservatives argue that prayer in school might, you know, offend people who aren't Christian? No.

How can conservatives plead for 'fairness' when they haven't shown a tolerance- no, a precedence for 'fair thinking' in their own historical past? While I applaud socially laissez-faire conservatives (e.g. those who believe people should be allowed to live as they choose, but apply conservative values to themselves), I cannot tolerate the 'old school' conservatives who believe in a standing mantra of 'our way or the highway.' One has no right to plead for anything one has not shown in the past and in this case, the heavy right wing has no foot left to stand to argue fairness. Instead, their use of 'fairness,' particularly in this case, shows only a willingness to manipulate the mindset of many in order to secure the position of a single sect of people. I cannot and do not condone this.

Following up on this story, I am pleased that while the teacher did not get off completely scot-free, he did only get convicted on one of the more than twenty comments caught on audio tape. I am somewhat disheartened that it wasn't a complete dodge, but reading that the statement was simply denouncing Creationism for being 'religious, superstitious, nonsense (a position I, as a someone interested in science, share from both my experiences and readings),' I will state that semantics do make it seem anti-Creationist and hence, anti-Christian and while my contextual reading will lead me to believe it to be a simple statement of fact, others might not readily agree. Fair enough.

What I am more worried about, however, is what this conviction will do for the state of education and for the state of free-thinking. This case presents a massive blow to education, as it essentially provides a precedence for limiting what teachers can or cannot say. To learn isn't simply a matter of rehashing old ideals from those who know better, but is also a process in which a youngster makes his own worldview, affirming and rejecting concepts based on solid foundational knowledge as well as personal and shared experiences. However, silencing teachers in this manner limits what sorts of viewpoints children can be exposed to and hence, reduces the overall variety of things one would be able to learn. I understand that to many parents, educators, conservatives, and even liberals, this is not inherently a bad thing; we should 'teach what is [we think] is right,' as opposed to 'teach everything.' However, is this really fair? I guess the essential question for me here is the following.

Shouldn't we trust our children enough to make the right decision? And if it opposes us, shouldn't we first see if we have been mistaken, rather than to denounce their choices as wrong?

As one can see, I am very much a belief in free thinking- that is, with heavy logical rigor and sound basis. This case and the subsequent verdict present to me a very compelling fear; one in which only one dogma unites the world and variance of thought dies out like some sort of poison. Such a stifling metaphysical mindset is sure to bring about unity, but at the cost of difference, color, and most of all innovation. As an outside observer who delights in comparing the viewpoints of the many, this would truly be my anathema.

Today is not raining, and therefore, I am not lazy. Hence, I would like to leave with two caveats- just little things I was thinking of, instead of my normal message.

The question is simple; 'If you believe in 'fairness to all (which I never stated, but let's say I do),' do you believe Creationism should be taught in schools?'

Of all the questions to ask me, this one took some time but I finally arrived at a single conclusion; absolutely. However, Creationism is not science for various reasons; it should not be taught alongside scientific theories but rather, either used as an example of what science is not (that is, theories are exclusively things that can be proven wrong). It should also be taught in humanities courses as an interesting construct that is used to bolster a return to social ideals, and probably in law courses too to study the impact of seemingly secular idealisms with heavy religious influence upon our current laws; this would impact, I would think, education the most. This also brings me to my second caveat of the night.

Dr. Corbett was convicted because of his statement against Creationism violated the Establishment Clause, which stated that a public figure cannot show hostility against a religion. I am not an expert on law, nor will I profess to be anyone other than a simple user of 'if p then q' statements but, doesn't this ruling suggest that Creationism is equivalent to religion? And not so much 'suggest' and 'explicitly state' and if so, doesn't that mean that any movement to teach Creationism alongside evolution in schools has a legal precedent going against it inherently? It's an interesting thought to consider and I welcome anyone capable to enlightening me more about this.

Cheers. From outside the box.

Link to Corbett's final end: http://www.ocregister.com/articles/corbett-religion-court-2387684-farnan-selna
Link to Corbett's editorial on the subject: http://www.ocregister.com/articles/students-myth-socrates-2399735-think-parents