Okay, I'm itching. That kind of soul itching.
This whole day I should have been preparing for my last final tomorrow, but something kept me thinking, and thinking, and thinking, distracting me and frightening me and exciting me all at once.
I keep thinking about what I'm doing with my life, a dangerous thought because I invariably come to the conclusion that I am, at every moment of every day, making some Grand Mistake. That some day I will come to my senses and have to do all of the things that I am taking care not to do right now. This might be sounding vague, because it IS vague, but it's very affecting. So I'm thinking about how what I'm studying in school may not be preparing me for what I want to do with my life, and then I think about how I never really figured out what I want to do with my life. And then I think about what I'm missing. And then I think about girls. And then I think about how unprepared I am to really find and get to know a girl. And then I think about how childish I am, how I haven't changed since high school. Maybe junior high. Maybe grade school. I'm the same. And then I feel like I've wasted time again. Why am I so frightened, and why has it all spurted up in the past 72 hours?
There might be a couple of explanations. I turned in my application for study abroad today, which means -assuming my pretty high grades and all that rot net me the position- that I will be giving nine months of my life to studying in japan. This is pretty frightening, I guess. It's exciting and frightening at the same time. Also, I'm not yet done with finals week, and this has been the toughest semester yet, I think. So I'm a bit nervous about grades. Not FAIL worried, but B minus worried. So I probably shouldn't be. Finally, I have gotten girly feelings again all of a sudden. No, not the girly feelings that would have me put on panties and a bra, but the other, more important girly feelings. And so this is a relief in some ways, because I haven't really fallen for a girl -let alone taken a shine to any in particular- for more than a year. So it is a relief in that way. But suddenly, I remember what was so very vivid about those times when I'm pining: the suffering, and the elation. So this morning I was suffering, but throughout the course of the day something specific happened involving mere communication, and I am now running off of a high that is incomparable to any drug. In addition to the suffering and elation is the endless pondering of the future. Constructing possible situations and playing out conversations in my head, and then making absurd time jumps and playing out those situations as well... and then I smack myself for doing this, this outrageous calculation, and I remind myself that according to statistics, this time will probably be like all of the others, and that I am a fool for spending even the slightest effort towards imagining the 'what could be's. And then I feel bad. That is, until the next sign comes, bringing me up to the peek once more with the hazy promise of PERHAPS, where I can feel all lubby dubby for a time. Before I pull myself back down.

I love life. I'm smiling and crying and screaming all at once on the inside. I itch.

I think I'm going to sleep.
 

Studying for finals is hard stuff! At least, gathering the energy to focus is, what with the no more lectures and all.

I think I've been through a lot since my last entry. First of all, I'm almost done with my application for studying abroad in Japan, which will with any luck happen next september. I went and did it, I'm jumping off into the deep end with this one. But I think that I need it. My school life has kind of turned into static, just the same thing over and over, and I'm not meeting new people. So there were very few things left to keep me from jumping across the ocean for a while. No doubt most of my old highschool classmates will graduate while I'm off of the continent. All three of them that still talk to me. Oh well.

My room has turned into garbage. It's funny. I spend a good chunk of my breaks making my room habitable again, and then after fifteen weeks of school it's right back to normal. It's an excercise in futility I think. Errr... maybe not the exercise part.

Tis the season, eh? I need to do christmas shopping for everyone. But whenever I go to stores nowadays, all I see is garbage garbage garbage. Nothing magical strikes me. And add to that my utter lack of fantastic ideas, and I'm kind of in trouble.

Hung out with some of the older kids the other day, still a silent wreck, I am. I think I might have said one or two things, but I don't recall what they were. Working on it.

Only 300 or so pages to go on Quicksilver. It's really good and I wish school wasn't causing me to read it so slowly.

I hung out with another friend yesterday, this is the guy I usually hang out the most with. It struck me especially that his interests are very different from mine. He's a good guy, but he never reads any books, and I mean never. He also lacks any capability whatsoever to open his mind to new things and appreciate vast areas of human emotion and understanding. He only watches movies that look cool. Now, I don't mean this in a completely negative way, but I can't help but think that it was odd that we are still friends.
Then again, the other person I hang out with the most is similarly shallow, just at a different angle: smart but overly critical of EVERYTHING and unable to enjoy certain broad categories of life. Also doesn't read.

And I wonder, how come none of my friends even come close to sharing my interests? What's worse than watching a movie alone? Watching an AWESOME movie alone because you don't know anyone who would appreciate its awesomeness.

Yeesh. I'm just going right around the table here, all topics are GO today.

Electrical engineering. That's what I do. It's an imaginary game played with mathematics involving the movement of little tiny pieces of STUFF through loops.
It was fun, really, seeing how math can describe the actions of such a mysterious universal force. There are so many games to play, and so much new math to take advantage of in playing these games. But the problem with engineering is that it becomes something other than a game. At the end of it, it's all about making things. NOt even that, it's about copying things and making them better, that's what engineering is. No great advances, just short little improvements. And the game stops existing. But I think that the game part is the part I like the most. Should I just admit this to myself and change majors to MATH and play all the games I want? Or do I stick out a couple semesters more and see for myself how fun engineering can be before doing math for round two? Or will everything I study prove to be deglamorized following the more effort I put into it?

My year in japan will give me a year to think about that, as I don't plan on taking any electronics classes over there.

Japanese oral tomorrow. I need an 8 out of 10 in order to get an A- in the class. I'm kind of worried though, because it's in a new format.

Digital and Analog electronics on wednesday, after probably seeing the midnight showing of That Movie. This test scares me more, because I have not been doing splendidly and... because. Finally, after a few days off, I get Signals and Systems final, and this class is all math and I like it. However, missing a few questions on the final could screw me over.

On the plus side, six of my seventeen credits this semester should already be A's.

My computer lost it's eyeballs, and it needs to be in the shop. Thus, I haven't been able to get my internet fix as often as usual. Maybe a good thing?

Running out of steam.

Need to eat food soon.

 

Well, I made it through 'hell week', officially the most stressful week of my school career. So I am relaxing tonight and writing until I fall asleep. Tomorrow I can wake up to whatever garbage is left over to do for next week.

Hell Week:
So on monday I wrote my political science essay -not altogether a very complicated piece of work, or even very long, but I was inhibited by the fact that I had to finish it before it was actually DUE, which is like a wrench in my procrastination machine. It was tough work doing something BEFORE the night before it was due. But I finished it, around three AM.

ON tuesday night I had to work on a japanese essay. However, I did not even get to it because my regular homework for wednesday had me up til 3 AM and then my procrastinatrix told me that I ACTUALLY only had to SEND this japanese essay via email DURING wednesday. So I saved it til then.

Wednesday is my lab day and I actually caught up through the previous week's stuff by the time lab was over, so it wasn't anywhere near the 'worst-case' I had vividly imagined. Later on wednesday, I sat down and wrote most of my japanese essay before I decided to go to a study group for the thursday morning Analog and Digital Electronics monster test. The study session was a waste of time, for the most part. Two hours erased from existence, and I went home and finished up the old japanese essay, and I sent the email at 12:38 -technically only 38 minutes late. Immediately afterwards, it was back to work studying for my test, which for me usually just consists of the 'one sheet of notes' construction, because I am so calculatingly lazy. Got to bed: around three AM.

Thursday was an early rise. I had a test, and I arrived very early to the testing location. The test occurred sooner or later, and it was a true stinker. It was kind of funny, because even though everything on it was familiar, it was familiar things that were so very intensive to accomplish that it was a disaster. I honestly do not know if I got any questions fully right. But, as things have been for this class, the hope lies in the Statistics, and the faith that all around me have failed just as miserably as I have. But there was no time to relax after the test, for there was another on the following day, this one on Signals and Systems. That night I also had to do a japanese online activity, and that ended up taking until around three AM. At this point, I was feeling hazy and lonely and cold, and the inevitable result was a mass email to people I know or once knew in some sort of grasp at attention or comfort or whatever it is that people provide. I decided not to study for the test, hoping I had time on friday.

I woke up very late on friday, knowingly skipping my early morning lecture. I barely had time to prepare for my japanese class, much less look over my Sig Sys notes. After japanese class went long, I made a mad dash for the Sig Sys test. This turned out to be the one of the most action-packed tests I've ever taken. That hour had DRAMA. This was probably enhanced by the high stakes: though the problems are complicated and full of math manipulations, the answer sheet only accepts ANSWERS. So the first question was fifty percent, and it was just a ton of compounded procedures. The second question was almost completely incomprehensible: there was a question there, but the approach to the enaswer was not clicking. The third question was half easy, and the other half similarly incomprehensible. So there I was, panicking and flipping between the two questions I couldn't finish, and pouring over the seven charts for Fourier transforms and properties we were gaven. The clock was ticking, fifteen minutes remained. I was freaking out, because I HAD to do well, since I hadn't really done super on any of my tests this semester, and this was my last chance. ANd it was just laughing at me, this test, and I was counting up the points I had so far and was clocking in at just over fifty percent. Terrible. I flipped back. I flipped again. I reread the questions over and over, but nothing clicked. Finally, I spotted the key fourier transform for question three, and it clicked like that: mission complete. Back to question two, which was still mocking me. Ten minutes remaining. I looked closely at my transform table, and it finally arrived, the very simple approach of solving the problems by basic inspection, and applying the Fourier representation BACKWARDS (a similar trick had been used on the previous test, which I hadn't caught then). With this sudden light bulb flash, I quickly filled in my blanks. And the answers made SENSE. I turned my sheet in and then gradually realized how much sweat was under my clothes as I packed up my stuff and left the room.

it was over.

I met up with Vu after the test, and he wasn't feeling so hot about his performance. This was a kind of test that I really didn't want to talk about, so I suggested to him that we see a movie or something. He was meeting up with some friends that night though, so I went to his apartment instead. We yapped for awhile, and he showed me some crazy shorthand writing styles. His friends called, one of whom was having his last night out before his 'leave' was over -he had to go back to the military. So me, Vu, James, and Zach went to the mall and played laser tag, generally a good time. After these antics, we decided to go back to my house where another member of their 'posse' showed up, a girl name Allaina(sp) and we watched some Aqua Teen Hunger Force between yapping. This late-night yapping was mostly done by Zach, the military man, who also turns out to have a wife and kid. He's a very entertaining guy to listen to, full of anecdotes and impressions and whatnot. But it was kind of weird hanging out with these people, Vu's friends -in my own house no less. But it was fun, despite my timid performance. So everyone shipped out around 4am.

Thus concluded my Hell Week.

 

Ya ya, the stress has descended indeed. I have been kept very busy the past few weeks. It seems that every night there is some project or other to finish up. Heck, tonight I have three of them (electronics lab report, a letter to a japanese college student, and electronics homework). In addition to that, the results of the tests are coming in, adding a thicker layer of stress: there's the original 'busy' stress, and now there is also the 'how do I stack up' stress - arguably more dangerous.
There may be a lull coming soon, for the brief time period between major tests (maybe not actually, as I have a japanese test on thursday and then a japanese oral on friday...)

People nobody knows about but me:

I talked to my friend Andy from high school, and apparently he was on price is right. That's exciting to me. Also, it turns out that he is also embarking down the road to electrical engineering. I gave him a few warnings, but he might continue regardless.

Also, I talked to Molly last night, after she seemed to have been ignoring me for several weeks though I was assured she was simply 'busy'. Apparently I was a subject of conversation on some day or other and described as 'cool'. I had a problem with being referred to as such, on account of personally knowing how boring I am.

I think that I am only interesting (i.e. 'not boring') under the following situations:
A) when I am talking comfortably to people (which does not happen often, because I tend not to talk to people, and because I don't know many people comfortably). A lot of the time, I end up sounding like an ass if I'm too comfortable. But who am I to argue that the ass is less likeable than the silent wuss?

B) when I am writing, like right now. While no one I really know in real life will read this, I still feel comfortable writing to that undefined 'reader'. Thus, with my comfort I can take on such fun extravagances as being more open and conveying through more characteristic styles of expression (taking on a personality).

Other than that, my personality disappears into my daily routines and workload. My personality is at a risk of disappearing completely (if it already hasn't) unless:
A) I meet new people and keep up with the old ones
B) I write more often

Also, perhaps my personality is confined when I _repeat myself too often_, restating in the preceding paragraphs what I've been telling myself for months, years.

Writing account note:
I've reached 300 base portfolio views. Hooray! and with that, each of my 'meaningful stories' i.e. fiction pieces have reached over 100 views. While I'm sure at least 50% of the views are people reloading the pages and whatnot, it's kind of nice to celebrate a milestone.

Alright. So... because I 'forgot' to bring homework to work today, I am probably just gonna work on my bio thing until I go home. maybe.


 

I've been a naughty writer.

I've neglected my updating duties. Thus, I should fill this textbox as best I can.

Alright.... school has very much picked up. Engineering homework can be quite intensive.
<BEGIN MATH NERD ALERT>
My more math-tuned class, Signals and Systems, requires a great amount of semi-intensive calculus. The Convolution Sum and the Convolution Integral both turn out, as their names suggest, to have very Convoluted processes for calculating. Who'd have figured? Anyways, recently we have gone on to the next subject, the Fourier transform, which thankfully affords one the option of completely bypassing the convolution integral. The reason for this? Because the fourier transform renders any given signal into a combination of sinusoidals. HA!
The less math-tuned class, Circuits III, scares me a bit more. Mostly because the professor takes pleasure in telling us that we should know more than we should, and that our previous professors were too easy on us. Which may be true, but it nevertheless makes things ungood for us. In addition to this, the class is highly focused on Transistors, which have been my least favorite circuit component ever since I met them. We had an awful test on thursday that I worried about. I think that I finally figured out BJT transistors. Unfortunately, the test had a handful of CMOS transistors, of which I don't have such a good familiarity with. However, since the professor said that scores on his test are usually low, I'm not too worried. In my mind, I can see many people getting a lot worse scores than me. So until I see the statistics and my score, I'm not gonna freak out.
<END MATH NERD ALERT>
Political science requires a lot of reading. Which I'm fine with, it's just that I'm a huge procrastinator and think that I'm depriving myself of some of the reading's goodness by sometimes hyper-reading before class. But the teacher did just use my hastily-written paper (aren't they all?) as an example to the class of how to write papers. Apparently nobody knows how. So I get some nerd points there.

Other stuff:
I got two big huge distractions the other week.
1) My big fat new computer arrived. An Apple G5. My toy. This is the first computer I've bought with my own money, and also the most expensive thing I've bought. And it also, at least for the time being, happens to be the fastest personal computer on the planet, and the first 64 bit personal computers. Not that those mean anything for personal use. but it's pretty and it lets me do everything I want.
2) Quicksilver came out. This is the prequel to Neal Stephenson's Cryptonomicon, and is the first of a trilogy called The Baroque Cycle. the novel involves Isaac Newton and Leibnitz inventing calculus, but it's more about: war, information theory, money/gold, and cryptography. It involves a great deal of historical figures, but it's still very interesting and gripping fiction. I am loving every second of it -whenever I have time to devote to it.

So between these things, and school.... I haven't been writing. I suck.

Incidentally, I've also been watching old episodes of West Wing. I never watched it, but I had heard good things, and they were running the early episodes on cable. So I'm tivo-ing them and watching them with my sister. We're pretty far in, and I am likeys. It's got clever snappy writing and interesting politics and very great characters.

This weekend I took off though, at least from homework.

This friday I went to the gopher game with my sister and brother and father. It was good... that is, until we gave up 21 points in the last quarter and lost it, destroying are perfect record. Well, I suppose that's the first and last gophers game I'm going to probably -I'm not really a big sports guy anyways. Also, I played some Settlers of Cataan with some buds to round out the evening.
Then today I played me a good chunk of piano - I'm getting better at improvising now, which I think is a good sign. I can sit at the piano and have fun and make things that sound semi good without taking months to memorize.
At five o'clock, I biked to the U to see Michael Moore talk. I bumped into Gutt on my way in, fortunately, and got to sit with him. The thing was pretty entertaining. Moore was as good as expected. Only a few times did he go overboard with his comments, but heck... who can blame him, being in an auditorium full of lefties. He's only human. The question and answer session was kind of frustrating, because people don't know how to ask questions anymore. they just make non-questions, or tell stories and then ask for moore's approval. Moore got frustrated too, and told people to do it like a 'lightning round', and it got somewhat better.
After that, me and my friend went to see Kill Bill part 1. And it was delicious. Exotic and full of tricks and gorgeous and violent -generally entertaining all around. It's been too long since I've seen a new Tarantino movie....

With that, I come to tonight. Hopefully with this spew of an entry, I will be writing more soon. Like finishing my blasted bio piece.
 

Why is it that I only seem to be able to write after midnight? And why does it seem to get easier and easier the later in the morning it gets?

Is there something about the way my brain behaves that prevents me from articulating ideas during daylight hours?

The negative reason for this is that people simply aren't around to distract me, and the only thing on television is the Inside Edition/ Entertainment Tonight drivel. But I have to know the positive reason, what about this late night sit at the computer seems to improve my ability to write.

Thought: maybe at this late in the night, my brain lacks its usual defensive properties, and lets me express any stupid idea that I want in a way that I want (and might accidentally create something worthwhile).

I brainstorm thoughts all the time -when I'm washing my hair, when I'm walking home, when I'm doing laundry. But for some reason, the very important but simple act of transcribing/channeling the ideas is an extreme effort for me, only reached at this extreme situation of 230am staring at the computer monitor, a television blaring infomercials behind me, and music headphoning into my ears.

Hmm. I guess creative inspiration comes when I'm in bored and active, and expressive inspiration comes when I'm tired and not going anywhere.

Sleepy now.
 

Alright, I forgot to let some necessary frustration go last week, it being a very politicized time.
So this will have to suffice, a summary of last week's angry thoughts:

Okay, I woke up on thursday morning to find people on the radio referring to september 11th as 'patriot day'. I guessed that it had been so named recently, but it turns out it was named that a year ago. Huh.

Anyways, the fact that this day of historic american tragedy has been named 'patriot day' irks me to no end.

September 11th was not a day when Patriots died. Not in any sense of the word were those victims patriots. September 11th was a day of spontaneous tragedy, for the express reason that the couple thousand victims were from all walks of life. Not all of those deceased believed 'my country right or wrong', not all of them would have approved of a massive campaign of revenge, and not all of them were american citizens.
They were not patriots.
We are not honoring these victims or their memories by naming their day of tragedy 'patriot day'.

WHo are we honoring?
We're honoring the belligerent, knee-jerking, closed-minded fools who capitalized on the tragedy for their own ends. We're honoring the guys who started massively piling american flags onto their podiums, their cars. We're honoring those who used the occasion to limit civil liberties under the guise of greater security. And we're honoring people who believed in a USA without discourse, without intelligent debate. We're honoring a USA that blindly followed their president. We're honoring a president who protected us (after the fact) by giving us new sources of fear, who has waged wars killing many times the number of civilians that died on 9-11.

We honored these people, the people that fueled the hatred and the fear, the great big group-thinking faction.

Those were the patriots. That's who we honor when we say 'patriot day'.

We're honoring those who took advantage of the victims.
When I see the seas of american flags on the streets, all I can think of is how very proud america is. But september 11th is not something to be proud of. It is a day for mourning.

So I will not be celebrating 'patriot day' in any form. Perhaps in a week or so I will wear the only t-shirt I own with an american flag on it, with the words "we are not ALL jerks" written on it.
It's come to the point where I can only exhibit my belief in american ideals when I have a disclaimer.

It only gets worse, however. Next year I hear that Bush will be connecting his presidential campaign to 9-11 festivities. The fun never ends.

Fun I only hope that I can ever forget.

Enough with the angsty ranting now.
 

I'm a bit disconnected from what I'm describing, so forgive me.

Well, I started this school year feeling completely different than most. Firstly, I felt that during the summer I had accomplished ENOUGH. Usually, I feel quite the opposite. Also, this had been the longest I'd gone without school, and I was unsure how it would take, wondering whether I would find it to be hellish after my escape. This turned out to not be the case.

My classes were pretty much what I expected, though in the first week of class you can never tell which will be cake and which will have you doing design homework til three am every tuesday night. Nevertheless, I walked around campus with this overbearing sense of OPTIMISM. My usual flutuating cynical thoughts had taken a vacation. Heck, even my ever-bleak thoughts about finding girls were HOPEFUL. So I smiled, I smiled all frickin week. What's happened to me?

Well, I'm taking my third year electrical engineering classes, and they say that these are like, the toughest. We'll see. One of them is more of a math class dealing with fourier transformations and laplace and such, and I think that I will have a good time with it. The other is a straight up circuits class, the third in a series. The last two were okay, but I'm now worried about this one, mostly because it's going to have a lot of transistors. And I hate analyzing transistors. Capacitors, resistors, inductors, diodes, opamps -those are all fine. But those transistors... there's something about the analysis that I'm missing.
Anyways, the last engineering class is a lab. and labs can be tough, because there are so many physical things that can go wrong. You can very easily end up in a nightmare scenario of having to go into the lab late at night to finish something up. But we'll see.

And I'm taking third year Japanese too. I've always loved my japanese. Got the same teachers as previous years, and I know most of my classmates, and I like the material too. So it promises to be as fun as always. the atmosphere that the language class exudes has got me baffled. There's something so very FUN about it that I can't put my finger on. I'm sure it's also combined with the rapport between students and teachers, and the very skillful way the teachers set up learning exercises.

Finally, I decided to take a political science class as my 'fun' class this semester, bringing me to 17 credits. (And I'm aware of the paradox of adding credits to a full class load in an effort to make things easier)
Well, It's a heck of a lot of reading. And I haven't had a liberal arts class since HIGH SCHOOL. But the thing is, I'm highly interested. (I got the fricking Humanities award senior year, and here I am two years later just starting to realize it)
It started out weird. I felt out of place, all those freshmen lib arts kids in class with me. but then we took a test last week on the constitution. I finished and looked around, and all these kids were scrambling to finish, they were having difficulty. I get a kick out of this. I had one too many engineering tests where I was the kid who was scrambling. So it was nice on many levels, the IT kid coming and whooping up the constitution. Plus, I give myself bonus points for participating in the class, contributing positively with the main point of a reading.
So, walking home from class that day, I felt all kinds of things. Mostly:
"It turns out i'm liking the political science class. DAMNIT."

That's my curse. I like too many things when it comes to school. I was all settled into this engineering thing, and my japanese thing on the side -I got A's mostly, I was content, I felt that I enjoyed it all for the most part. But now I'm enjoying this polysci (which is probably indicative of me enjoying english and history and -heck- philosophy too). So here we come to a problem: if I can enjoy learning anything, what do I really LIKE? Will I be happier in other fields than I will be in my current path? How can I tell if I like every thing?

Why can't I hate more school?

And why am I still smiling?

 

Crap, I forgot to talk about the summer music like I planned to.

See, this summer I listened to a lot more new music than I had in a long while. For the most part of the last school year, it was just the same music from my iPod that had been there since the fall. But this summer, I think that I found some important new music.

First, there was A Perfect Circle. This was easy, because -well- I already liked Tool, and once I was told about Perfect Circle, I had to download it. And it was as good as expected, though not amazing.

Also, Jurassic Five. I don't like a whole lot of hip hop, but these guys have it all down. they have cool djs and interesting sound constructions, and each of the MCs has personality and verbal wit, and they actually have songs of CONTENT, rather than relying on an oversized caricature of themselves and just rhyming about that like most rappers do. Apparently, they've been around for like ever too. I've now got their 2002 album Power In Numbers and their 2000 album Quality Control. They sound good and they seem to have the whole hip-hop down to perfection.

Okay, so next there was Beck. I admit, I loved Beck's 'hit' songs (loser, two turntables and a microphone). But I never really listened to any of his post-Odelay music. This summer, I ripped Midnight Vultures and Sea Change and listened to them on vacation, and they blew me away. Midnight Vultures has this insane-crazy magic power that makes you want to run around and scream and dance like a loony, and then Sea Change makes you so completely depressed and sad. They're a perfect combination, I think.

Finally, there's VNV Nation. Not many people have heard of them, I'm quite positive. Their official category is probably somewhere between dance and trance and industrial- but it's too sweet for industrial, the lyrics are too good for trance, and the songs are a bit to varied for dance. I've heard they're a big Goth band, that they fall generally under 'goth music'. I have trouble believing it, because this music is too good, and the lyrics and sound are too full of hope... I always thought that Goths liked music that made them depressed.
Anyways, I was lent VNV nation's newest CD before I went on vacation and I listened the heck out of it. Since returning, I have downloaded another bunch of their songs and I am MUY MUY LIKEY. As I said before, it sounds very smooth, it's like audible candy. and at the same time, the lyrics are good, they guy is a master with words (he uses words I've never heard in songs before, like 'retrospect' and 'permeated', and even a phrase like 'fortitude of hearts and minds'!). One reason his lyrics shine through so well is that he does not constrain his lyrics to fit with the music: he just lets the lyrics spill out in their own way -it sounds weird at first, but it is really beautiful. Add to that, the songs are full of a very humanistic hope and fear: of creating something new, of being lost from oneself, of the future of human civilization. And, of course, the music aint bad either. There are haunting melodies, and I find myself projecting them into my mind much of a given day, and then being unable to refrain from singing along with it.
If you need an example, find a song called "Rubicon" and a song called "Epicentre". Listen a couple of times.

So that's the new major musical influences I've had this summer. Each is definitely going in my permanent collection.
I love music. How do I go for so much time without it?
 

Well, here I am, the last day of summer break. This is the longest I've ever been without school, and it's odd. Most of the time, the summer always seems not to last so long. But this time, I feel like it was perfectly long. Not only did it feel like a significant amount of time, but I feel like I've accomplished more this summer than I have in any other summer.
Usually, before school starts I'm depressed because I wasted my break away on nothing. And now, even though I accomplished much, I feel a very relaxed desire to do even more, and aat the same time a feel content with what I HAVE done.

Okay, what was my summer then?
Well, I didn't take a summer class. That's big. I'd planned to, but I bucked out in order to join my family for a trip. And that was fun.
Also, I didn't play video games at ALL. Well, maybe a little. But I didn't go and veg. out on any. I haven't gone through a summer with so few video games EVER. The one exception for this summer is that I've been playing Dance Dance for the past week, but that almost doesn't count as a video game because it's aerobic.

I worked for the first half of the summer, and at my job -as always- I listened to NPR and surfed the internet and wrote silly crap (mostly here).
My sister and I spent a great deal of time wondering what was for lunch. We are such pitiful creatures. We would spend hours a day waiting for one of us to come up with something to eat, and then sometimes we would just cop out and go pick up a Baby at Chipotle. In the meantime, she and I played Scrabble and watched jeopardy.
Just so you know, my sister came to be out of a job on account of spending all summer applying for medical school. So we deemed this summer the "Summer of the Bum". And it has lived up to its name in that respect.
On the other hand, every week at the very least I would get together with Chris and Donny -old friends who have become new friends- and play Settlers of Cataan and talk politics and joke. This would be late, late night activities -oftentimes that special time of night would occur when everything seems funny, and everything else seems like a stroke of philosophical genius. Good times.
On yet another side of the coin, I was invited to tag a few times, and Jason called me up to invite me to other similar occasions (you know, with the huge group of people I kind of know). yes, sometimes it was kind of just sitting in a room and observing people drink themselves silly, but it felt fantastic to be invited -fun times and not so fun times. All good times.

So I guess I wasn't so much of a failure socially -I came when invited. Though I still did not seek. Seeking will come with time.

I got addicted to doing math logic puzzles. Oh the time I spent -and it was fun.
And I continued playing piano all summer, learned a few new pieces.

When vacation hit, I got to read around 4000 pages -more books than I've read in the past year.

After that, my brother and his girlfriend had numerous wedding activities. So many fun family occasions transpired that I've lost count. They really didn't stop until today. In addition, I got to hang out with Davy Kraken the other day and see a movie, and that was nice. The day after, my friend Brett, who has left the state for video game school in florida, came up to hang out with me and Donny and Chris for a night, and that was nice too.

It's just been packed, I guess. And I spent some great nights this summer just sitting at my computer and listening to music and typing until four in the morning. And wouldn't you know, I got about twenty thousand words PLUS down. yes, my attempt at a fiction story kind of died. But my nonfiction tales helped me, and I think I'm learning a lot about writing with them: taking my nonstop spewing memory and filtering it out and trying to make something cohesive, some story out of it. It's fun. And the newer fiction stories I'm developing are looking like they'll turn out well. Meanwhile I'm reading this guy's novel and learning all kinds of things by looking at it and correcting his mistakes. It's... I feel enriched this summer. I feel revitalized, and it is no small thanks to this little website.

when school starts, I hope it all doesn't change. I really want to continue writing the way I have. But I can hardly remember what it's like to be at school, it was so long ago. I'm taking more credits than I should, too.

here goes, so long summer, hello new semester. Stay cool, Summer Chook. Don't let School Chook get you too down, even though you should let him still get the A's. Keep some time for the writing, oh the writing.

 

I'm just now coming off a very exhausting and very satisfying weekend. See, my brother John just got married.

For the past three and a half years my brother has been seeing Amy, shortly after they 're-met'.
They knew each other in high school but they were both taken. After four years of no contact(though I'm just now coming off a very exhausting and very satisfying week. See, my brother John just got married.

For the past three and a half years my brother has been seeing Amy, shortly after they 're-met'.
They knew each other in high school but they were both taken. After four years of no contact(though both going to the U of M), they met again and instantly hit it off.

Soon enough, they moved in together. After that, they moved in to the house next door to my family, right close.

I'd always been worried about my brother, as he's bipolar and often depressed. Also, when he left for college he left for good and was quite distant. But he's a great guy when he's in the mood: thoughtful, provoking, funny, entertaining.
In the time after he quit drinking following a dangerous incident and moved back into our basement, he and I bonded in the weirdest of ways: star wars cards. It seems silly, but it was something we both got into after two of his college friends introduced him. 'Star wars cards' was one of those collectible card games like 'magic', thus it required huge investments of money constantly -MUST COLLECT ALL. We each spent a huge amount of time constructing decks and running off to purchase the newest cards(I was dark side, he the light side). He would wake me up early somedays for a nice morning game, and some nights we would rent dumb movies and put them on during a game. It was great fun.

When he moved out of the basement, the star wars cards slowed down a bit, though I would often travel to his place for a game or two. Star wars cards died down a bit, and eventually disappeared. But then....

Amy came along soon enough, and she was very fun. Amy and John were always coming up with strange and fun vocabulary... Amy called little kids 'peanuts'.... their cats developed strange nicknames like 'jidga bat'.... John called amy 'Pigeon' and she called him 'John Hamburger'. It was always a pleasure when they stopped by, because the two of the together livened up the place like nothing else. Also, with Amy there, John tended to stop by and visit more often. My family, without them, seems a bit sedate really, and they brought a great energy to gatherings that was most exquisitely fun.

It was with some surprise earlier this summer when they announced they would marry. Amy had married previously and did not like to talk about it. They always seemed to be a 'forever couple' rather than a married couple. But it happened, it went off.

A few weeks ago they both joined they big family vacation trip, and it great fun: the expanded family.
And then we got back, and it was wedding week! (Last week!)
The day we returned, Amy and John found a house just a block away that they could purchase! An actual house, and they got there first and it was within the price range. So celebration was in order, but the wedding was coming up anyways.
Wednesday was the night of the dreaded wedding shower, and while my sister and mom had to run off to it, Amy's dad called me and my brothers up for an ad-hoc bachelor party. It was a small gathering, consisting of us, amy's dad George and amy's sister's husband and his friend. Cookout with taters and hotdogs. Introduction to a strange home-made game involving two golf balls tied together and thrown bolo-style to hang on a pipe (people driving by all seemed to be familiar with the game, or at least some variation of it... One guy in a truck called out: "You playin dangle balls?". Another random car asked: "Is that called 'cowboy something'?" Strange. After that we played poker and watched THE STING projected on George's setup in his garage. He liked to call gatherings of something called the 'he-man woman-haters club'. George was a pretty weird guy, but very funny and likable. He was actually a youth minister, but was recently fired for I can only guess being too fun. I can't think of a better youth minister. Anyways, he's been spending the last two years since being a janitor and generally having the best time of his life. Funny how life works.
Thursday was the day of the groom's dinner. My mother had booked a space at the U of M Campus club, in which she had gone to HER groom's dinner, so there was a bit of legacy to it. It was a very cool dinner, I thought. My brother's best man was Aaron Voyles, a highly enjoyable guy I'd known since I'd started playing star wars cards with my bro. The food was great, and I got to hang out with my family and amy's family and Voyles. Also, the room's view was superb, providing an amazing view of the minneapolis skyline as the sun set.
On friday I was awakened early by Amy, who was freaking out and needed some help with a video she was secretly making on her computer for the wedding. I spent most of the day helping her out, getting everything perfect with the music, and thinking up 'tech' solutions for how exactly it could get shown.
Later that night I went out with my sister to a great planned event that was made out of the .... the Jason vs. Freddy movie. Jason Waye, who I've known since high school and is usually the guy to invite me to big events, had invited me earlier and I was glad to come. He and Al had actually bought out 'the private box' at a theater for this 'monumental' movie. It was fitting, since there was a weekly gathering for bad horror movies that Al set up. Anyways, the movie was actually super entertaining and exactly what it was supposed to be.
Saturday, THE day, came along. i was frantically trying to write a nice poem on the ride up to my grandma's house (where the wedding would be held). Once I got that done I frantically wrapped my gifts, then I frantically fixed my hair into something interesting and perhaps a little freakish. My sister's boyfriend remarked that my hair's theme was 'fractals'.
People gathered on the hillside, and finally the cow bell sounded that indicated the precedings. John and Amy had decided to marry each other with no minister (though her dad would officiate everything, do al the papers). John called for anyone to speak if they had words ("If noboday says anything we're just gonna get married", he threatened.) Some fine speaches were had by John and Amy's friends, and my sister who revealed that she was happy that Amy had made it possible for her to know her brother (they never got along well before).
Amy brought out the cutest thing ever before their vows: A letter she had written to herself after she had been dating John for a month describing how she felt about John so very early on. So cute. Finally, they vowed, and then asked the audience to pronounce them man and wife, which we did.
I had been assigned to video tape, and I was freaking out during the whole ceremony because my batteries were dead. A great big blinking low battery icon was jumping at me as I very nervously recorded the whole thing, not knowing whether it would cut out at the worst moment. Fortunately, the batteries made it through and everything was well.
After tons of pictures and food, Amy's presentation came, and it was a crowd pleaser. She made a fine little slideshow of her and John's experiences, to John's utter surprise. It was perfect.
The rest of the night continued similarly, with a good DJ who knew how to put on his music appropriately. Heck, I even went out and danced a few times, and I sat in on some great fun conversations.
I talked to my cousin Katy, who I never really talked with much, about my education plans: that I was majoring in Comp-E, though I was going to delve more in the humanities. She told me that she had loved political science which surprised me. Even more surprising, she said she planned on going back to school and eventually teaching it. Cool beans. She encouraged me to go take the classes I want to take, no matter the time or cost , and for that I'm greatful.
I repeat myself, but the wedding was perfect. They wanted a small wedding, and while I wouldn't say it was small, it was perfect. A+ in wedding.
A surreal experience it was. While at three of my cousins' weddings last year, I found myself getting a bit depressed after a bit in my wandering around by yself and pondering, but my brother's wedding made my problems seem very insignificant compared to the great times that be ahappenating. I made concessions with my cynical self: if things could get this good, then maybe the bad times weren't really that bad.
I went to sleep still buzzed with joy, I was so happy for John and Amy and my whole family. It was the happiest family event I've been to.

Now i'm tired. I knew I wouldn't get anything done today. But at least it's documented!
 

Well, I am back from spending three weeks on a big family trip, the first in a couple of years.

The first stop was at one of the lesser-known great parks: Teddy Roosevelt National Park in North Dakota. If you want to see bison, then this is the only place you will ever need to go. They're everywhere, hords of them. And they don't much care for your personal space. If one is wondering why, exactly, Teddy Roosevelt of all people needs a national park named after him, here is the answer: He was the first real conservationist president. Aside from killing a bunch of mexicans, he pretty much invented the national park, claiming over 230 million acres for national protection.

The day after setting up camp and generally lazing about, my family and I went horseback riding through the park. The regular path had to be given up very quickly, as the bison had taken it over. Quick thinking by our guides had as traipsing through heavy brush and dodging overhanging branches, while our horses were freaking out at every opportunity. I looked up, and there was a bison, hunched up and growling at us from the top of a cliff. The growls of bison are much more like a lion than a friendly herbivore. They can creep you out. The rest of the horse ride was also mostly an expedition in search of a way through the bison, because they kept migrating to exactly where we wanted to go. ONce back at the ranch, the bison had taken over the parking lot and not allowing anyone to leave.

After Teddy, we headed towards my favorite national park, Glacier. The day before arriving, we stayed at a motel. When my mother and I went out to find donuts, we glanced at the local newspaper, which bore the headline: "Tourists flee Glacier". Much of the park was on fire and closed. Perfect timing. Nevertheless, a quick change in plans had us camping on the other end of the gargantuan park (the area that was NOT on fire).

Glacier is a gorgeous place. It's located on the face of Montana, the top stretch of our rockies. The hills are draped with trees, and the lakes are like frozen candy. The snow on the mountains is accompanied by that more bluish looking ice that indicates a glacier, and water runs off down the mountainside in seasonal streams. There are trails for all elevations, and the natural gems hiding at the ends of them are delicious deserts after a day of hiking.

We continued west after Glacier, and after a couple of extremely hot days we made it to the Cascade mountains in Washington. We were really burning up, the temperature was around one hundred, when we entered the cascades. But magically, as we drove through them, the change was amazing: it dropped twenty degrees to a very pleasant feeling. We were under the protection of the ocean, apparently.
We camped near a substantial dam that had been built in the thirties when we did that stuff. From a great lookout afte a brief hike, it was pretty bizarre to see the unnatural nature of the artificial water: it looked very pretty, but there was something wrong with it. When there are tree stumps under the water, there's something amiss. My dad remarked that we would never be able to do something like that again, referring to the amount of damage no doubt done to the ecosystem thereabouts. Nobody lets people do that stuff anymore. For a couple decades there, we built all the dams we wanted, bending the environs to our will. For better or worse, it could not happen now, because too many people cared. It made me wonder. Since the dam had been in place, the wildlife seemed to have adapted. It was such an old change that time seemed to have covered it up.

A few ferries and through the Pugit Sound, and we camped at a small campground near Sequim. The first day in that area, we drove to out to the pacific beach, where huge amounts of giant trees-turned driftwood lay in a long line for miles, and great monumental rocks stuck out of the waves. The second day was Seattle day. Cool city. It seems very modern. The ferries and the streetcars and buses were neat. They also have a huge marketplace area that seemed to pop out of nowhere, with famous fish tossers and so many other things. The street musicians each had their spots, and every so often held their changing of the guards. that day I heard three different people sing 'Brown Eyed Girl'.

The third day we went and found hot springs in the olympic mountains. There was a two and a half mile trail uphill into the hot springs area, where signs said nudity was 'common but not condoned'. I ran the entire way up because I had been lazy far too long. When I arrived at the hot springs area, things weren't too bad. A couple families here and there. But then I continued. There was a small pool with some clothes aside it and an old couple inside. Not too bad. I continued, and there was water running through the path, glowing with baceria. I looked up the side of the hill, through the trees. There, perched as if in a nest, I saw them: butt, butt, butt, butt. Butts all around. Fortunately, I did not continue looking, for what I had found was a nest of fatties. A nest of naked fatties. I continued until the path ended, and I passed some hippy-spawns on their way out. I joined my family back at the first hot springs and dunked me feet in an untaken pool. However, the remnants of wax candles (indicating some ceremony if not another) and other nastiness did not afford me much desire to stay very long.

The fourth day we took a ferry up to Victoria Island. Apparently, if Germany had taken England in world war number two, Victoria Island was where the royalty would have fled. A pretty neat place, I guess. The problem was, most of the shops were closed because of the mysterious "British Columbia Day". Why hadn't we been warned? The Streetlights made bird noises when you could cross the street, something so futuristic and impressive that I've never seen in the US (only japan).

Finally, it was time to head east once again. A few nights of driving, and we were at yellowstone, where we would pass through and on our way home. The bizarre formations at that park are quite amazing, but I can't help but feel that they're some kind of natural wonders geek show. I was however, most enticed by a particular bubbling pool that had steam coming off of it, and the wind made the steam dance in little whirling dervishes as the bubbles rippled below. An amazing image.

The rest was pretty neat too, but you can only get so much of hot shooting sulfur-smelling water. At Old Faithful, I recall a small girl and her mother going by. "It's going to go off soon," said the mother.
"It's not an it, it's a HE," said the child matter-of-factly.
It certainly is. The kid KNEW.

After Yellowstone, we made our way to Devil's Tower (A tradition). The area near devil's tower was teeming with motorcycles, for the annual Sturgis biker rally was happening. Biker's from around the country congregated. Around devil's tower, there was a gigantic Harley Davidson flag flying.

A short ride through the blackhills, and we went to Mitchell, SD. Home of the 'world's only' Corn palace. I don't quite get it. It's like wall drug, this huge made up thing, but it had lots of corn on it. World famous. Everything seemed to repeat the claim: Mitchell is the home of the world's only corn palace. This could be easily changed, I thought. Corn palace. I could make a corn palace. just don't want to. Anyways, tourist attractions are always funny. I still don't know why people come from around the world to the Mall of America...

And then we were home. At last. I'd been abstinent from my three major vices the entire three weeks: Carbonated beverages, Ibuprofin, and THE InTARnet. Now I am binging on two of the three.

In the time gone, the hours of riding in the back of a minivan, I read more than four thousand pages of reading, more than I have read all year. I wish I had more time.

That was a lot of writing, but I had to get it out of the system.

What am I thinking about right now? (To fit with the constraint of this journal)...

I've been feeling like a child. I've always been a child. I'm hungry for knowledge and experience and creation... and yet, everyone else my age seem to be living in a more real world, where they have to pay the rent and ... you know. Live. Me, I'm still in the same bedroom I've had for the last ten years. A child.
 

When I think about myself recently, I can only seem to think of how shallow I am. Even if I read books and get good grades in school, I am very rarely stimulated, intellectually. Even rarer do I stimulate myself, truly get myself to think about wondrous ideas and possibilities. I always seem to be anchored by something, and I end up occupying my time with the most mundane things.
Possibly because of my severely limited social experiences with other people, or maybe because I have convinced myself that I was, at some point, an intelligent and interesting person. Either prospect is unpleasant.
It would be easy to blame the summer, but I actually feel that i was stimulating myself LESS during the school year, oddly enough.

On an unrelated note, I'm spending a LOT of time here on this website. I'm reviewing a lot more random stuff too, and also getting new stories up. Good or bad?

uhn nuh.
 

Just got back from, of all things, a science fiction and fantasy convention. Funny, because I'm not a HUGE scifi and fantasy fan, and because I usually avoid large groups of people for the most part.
However, I went. This is because my sister and some friends volunteer to work in the consuite (food services), and I figured I might as well come along.
Had actually a pretty good time. I watched a LOT of films, including a quite bizarre one starring Malcolm McDowell as H.G.Wells, in which he accidentally allows Jack the Ripper into his new time machine, and then must follow him to 1979! Pretty funny.
Also saw the two towers again, and saw X-2 finally. X2 was pretty good. Not surprisingly good, because everybody said it was good, but it was good nonetheless. It felt much more like X-men then the first one, and I can't explain why very well. Once again, however, I had a problem with the main threat, which was once again a giant machine in a spherical room that poses danger to many people. Yawn. Brian cox showed up again in that movie. He's showing jup everywhere.
Most of my fun was had volunteering for tasks with Gutt. We got breakfast at dawn on saturday before we went to sleep. I didn't stay up QUITE that late the next day, only 4am.
Today, me and Gutt wandered around as the mobile consuite, and we asked people if they wanted sandwiches or soda in strange accents and dialects. good times.
I also got to play some dance dance on some hard pads at the con too, and it was good. despite my being totally out of shape. Time to take those soft pads out again, once there is another cold front.
Now I am home, however. I should not drink pop for a long while, and I have a lot of reading and writing and running to do to make up for this black hole of a weekend.
 

I was invited to hang out with some friends on sunday, and then I hung out with some other friends last night, and we were just talking for about four straight hours (from about 2am to 6am). Boy did that feel good. The rewards of social contact should not be forgotten.
However, I still need to learn how to be more comfortable with different groups of people. I still seem to only be able to talk with a group of 4 or fewer close friends. 5 or more and I"m shot, especially if I don't know some of them well.
Must be fixed.

Right now?
I just wrote some of my bio piece, and it is turning out long. My arm is sore from pretending to play tennis yesterday and my amazingly consistent practice with my tai-chi sword. Sore good.
I think today, I get positive points. Even though I did not rise until past noon, I have succeeded in rounding out my day:
-piano
-tai chi
-7 hours at work
-a little too much internet
-wrote 10 kilobites
-read a chapter
-about to walk home

After staying up til 6am, I think that's a fine showing.
Tomorrow should be better.

 

Wow, this has probably been my most productive single day here. I've been at work since 8am, and am working until 10pm.
Fortunately, I convinced my sister to bring me a baby for lunch (baby = burrito from chipotle).
I typed up some of what I've scribbled in my notebook over the past few days, my first planned short story of the summer that is looking to be longer than expected. It is only two weeks behind the deadline.
Also, I even dabbled in a bit of autobiographical stuff. I just hope that I can make it entertaining enough for people to bother to read it. Finally, I made another journal entirely devoted to books I've read. I'm beginning to like this here upgraded membership mucho. Oh, the plans I have!
I've not been so pumped in a while.
In fact, I want to go run around! Too bad I have to wait another hour and a half.
And also, somewhat comforting was that someone replied to my email. This sometimes never happens, so it has become something to be happy about.

Also, I read something neat today, a post by P. Farley of e-sheep.com, refuting the edison quote: "Genius is 10% inspiration, 90% perspiration."
That somehow working your ass off will always produce something good is a bit of wishful thinking, so Farley changed the values:
10% inspiration, 20% dedication, and 70% frustration.
I say, that sounds a lot more like it to me. Dedication can be pretty hard in itself, and once your dedicated enough, prepare for the frustration that goes with tinkering things to perfection (or at the very least a useable state).
hmmm. I know they're just words, but they sound good.
speaking of....
I listened to another audio interview with Noam Chomsky. The guy makes too much sense. Why is the world so screwed up when Chomsky can make these complicated matters make so much sense?
Another thing 'heard' today on my internet haunts: "The bush administration faces allegations that they distorted facts to make their case for the war. Their solution: accuse everyone _else_ of being 'history revisionists'."
It's a funny joke.

EXCEPT THAT IT'S TRUE!
HA! I'm laughing all the way to the toilet. Thank you ladies and gentlemen.
<vomit>

 

I have spent the last couple weeks reading catch-22, by Joseph Heller. I read the last half of it in one day. This was a fantastic novel.
What struck me about it was not only its eloquence, its masterful presentation, but how modern it was. It was precisely outlining exactly what it is about our current world that makes it so depressing and dispicable and dangerous and at the same time hilariously absurd.
The heart of the novel is of course, the concept of Catch-22, which has since entered our vocabulary, and for good reason. The novel goes farther though, to such an extent that variations on the theme of catch-22 can be found on nearly every page, in some form or another. This dangerous, immoral logic is present in so many places in our world, and yet it is almost indectable sometimes. By the end of the book, one will become a master at identifying catch-22 everywhere. The problem is fighting it, which is nearly impossible.
The book is also quite funny, but in that devious way of making you ache with anger while giggling through clenched teeth. And pretty soon, tears will soon add to that face, for the book turns to horror before long. A horror that strikes so close to home that the novel soon takes you completely.
Catch-22 is only mentioned by name in a few scant pages in the novel, but the power of its subtle presence continually pounds at you until finally, you must concede that it was it all along pulling those strings of irrational rationalizations.
There was a film adaptation made as well, which is actually pretty good for a movie. IN the end, however, it only offers glimpses of only a handful of scenes and characters from the book. Though it must be mentioned that Alan Arkin's portrayal of Yossarian is so perfect I could not help but imagining his delivery while I was reading the book.

So, I must highly reccomend this novel. A masterpiece, an absolute masterpiece. It has affected me, and that's what I'm feeling right now.

Without further ado, some key passages from the novel (of which there are many to choose from):

******
‘There was only one catch and that was catch 22, which specified that a concern for one’s safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind. Orr [Yossarian’s tent-mate and a pilot who kept crashing ] was crazy and could be grounded. All he had to do was ask; and as soon as he did, he would no longer be crazy and would have to fly more missions. Orr would be crazy to fly more missions and sane if he didn’t, but if he was sane he had to fly them. If he flew them he was crazy and didn’t have to, but if he didn’t want to he was sane and had to. Yossarian was moved very deeply by the absolute simplicity of this clause of Catch-22 and let out a respectful whistle.

‘"That’s some catch, that Catch-22," he observed.

‘"It’s the best there is," Doc Daneeka agreed (p. 46).


******
‘Catch-22. Catch-22 says they have a right to do anything we can’t stop them from doing’. The women had done nothing wrong but were still chased away. When challenged the M.P.s kept saying ‘Catch-22’.

‘"They don’t have to show us Catch-22," the old woman answered.

‘"The law says they don’t have to."

‘"What law says they don’t have to?"

‘"Catch-22"’ (p. 398).

Yossarian strode away, ‘cursing Catch-22 vehemently as he descended the stairs, even though he knew there was no such thing. Catch-22 did not exist, he was positive of that, but it made no difference. What did matter was that everyone thought it existed, and that was much worse, for there was no object or text to ridicule or refute, to accuse, criticise, attack, amend, hate, revile, spit a, rip to shreds, trample upon or burn up’ (p. 400).
*****

‘The chaplain had sinned, and it was good. Common sense told him that telling lies and defecting from duty were sins. On the other hand, everyone knew that sin was evil and that no good could come from evil. But he did feel good; he felt positively marvellous. Consequently, it followed logically that telling lies and defecting from duty could not be sins. The chaplain had mastered, in a moment of divine intuition, the handy technique of protective rationalization, and he was exhilarated by his discovery. It was miraculous. It was almost no trick at all, he saw, to turn vice into virtue and slander into truth, impotence into abstinence, arrogance into humility, plunder into philanthropy, thievery into honor, blasphemy into wisdom, brutality into patriotism, and sadism into justice. Anybody could do it; it required no brains at all. It merely required no character’
******

‘That’s my trouble, you know,’ Yossarian mused sympathetically, folding his arms. ‘Between me and every ideal I always find Scheisskopfs, Peckems, Korns and Cathcarts. And that sort of changes the ideal.’

‘You must try not to think of them,’ Major Danby advised affirmatively, ‘And you must never let them change your values. Ideals are good, but people are sometimes not so good. You must try to look up at the big picture.’

Yossarian rejected the advice with a sceptical shake of his head. ‘When I look up, I see people cashing in. I don’t see heaven or saints or angels. I see people cashing in on every decent impulse and every human tragedy.’ (435)

...‘From now on I’m thinking only of me.’

‘But Yossarian, suppose everyone felt that way.’

‘Then I’d be a damned fool to feel any other way, wouldn’t I?’

******
A fitting end.

 

I'm deathly afraid right now.
I'm afraid that I have become a shallow person. That somehow I've been under the illusion that I'm a sometimes insightful and mostly reasonable person who knows what in life is important. That even as I make connections with a few people under the impression that I am communicating or at the very least entertaining, that I am in fact just wasting their time and mine, and that I am not growing as a human being but simply stewing in my own inertia.
I am reading books, sure. I am going to school, sure. But what does that really say about me? When I only have a few friends, and even fewer I can actually talk to, how do I know what I'm saying even means anything? Does my presence even mean anything at all?
Am I this hideous creature without even knowing it?
That's my nightmare. And more and more evidence seems to show that it is true. And the worst thing about this is that it cannot be fixed as easy as that. To _become_ requires strength, strength I hope that I have. How does one begin?
Well, that's a dream I need to have soon.
 

6/3/03:
Gasundteit. Or however you spell it.
Embarrassed at the length of time between last update, despite abundance of freetime.
Eating Icecream bar while typing with one hand = not so fast.
Finished jury duty, all in all only having to show up two and a half days. the week before memorial day was not very busy. I got pulled for 1 jury panel, but sadly they did not disqualify enough jurors to need me. +(
I would have liked to have been put on a case, but sadly I was let go after having a day off then being sent home early on the thursday.
Maybe after my four years they will give me another chance.
I finished the ice cream bar now, and I can write two-handed. WEEE!
Okay, since Saturday (the 31st of May), I've been addicted to little math puzzles.
Here's the skinny: I learned of the Google Puzzle Championship that took place that saturday, and beforehand I signed up: what they hey, I wasn't doing anything that afternoon anyways.
I get off to a late start on the test (server issues), but soon enough, I'm in the thick of it: and what an abundance of challenging goodness it was: the first puzzle (of the like 25 of them) was a Battleship, a puzzle I have been familiar with since I did dozens of dozens of them in junior high, competing with my nemesis Jacob Bonde. Nostalgia. BUt that was only the beginning, for there weere so very many puzzles to be had, including another I am familiar with, the Paint by Numbers puzzle.
It was at some point later, when I was still doing the puzzles long after I had submitted answers and the time limit was up, that I realized how long it's been since I've enjoyed puzzles like this.
So I've been scouring the internet and I will soon be buying a couple books of problems from previous world puzzle championships.
If you're curious what the heck I'm talking about, try here:
http://www.stetson.edu/~efriedma/puzzle.html
(Though the battleships here aren't quite the type I'm the most fond of)
I've spent the afternoon doing even more puizzles today, and it's gotten me to seriously thinking about leaning more toward math in my academic aspirations. (as opposed to engineering?) Who knows?
Today's puzzles here:
http://wpc.puzzles.com/history/tests/2002wpc/index.htm
<DROOL DROOL>

5/18/03:
Finals ended yesterday for good. And that's how I feel: finished.
At work as usual, the next shift worker still hasn't shown up. more money for me.
jury duty starts tomorrow. Hope it's interesting.

Between finals on saturday, I bumped into someone from highschool. I've only seen her twice since, including this time. The first time I saw her, about a year and a half ago, she was very uptown looking, trendy but also slightly unpleasant. This time, she was trendy in a completely different way. She looked exactly like some news reporter, very nice, very pleasant. Anyways, it turns out she is doing journalism in addition to portugese.
After talking briefly to her, I felt bad. At the current rate, I would likely never see her again. At all. I should have at least tried harder to talk to her maybe. I dunno, should have tried harder to show her that I remembered her name, that we at least had a possible connection on some level. I particularly remember her because junior year she thanked me, like out of nowhere, but she thanked me for this oral commentary that I made in class that she said was very entertaining, probably only because all of the others were boring. But I don't think we really talked much at all besides that (more baggage). Then she was in brazil senior year.

But here I am living in the past again. This journal is for the now. And right now I do live with that regret, 'not talking to her betterly'. But -come on- it's just another drip into my great giant pool.

Another symptom of the disease.

A message for my future self: try harder you boob. Thwack.


5/12/03:

I'm kind of hungry.
mmm.
I just finished the japanese film final, I was on auto-writing pilot for two hours. Now if only I can apply that skill to creative writing...

I think I should go find matrix tickets.

My arm still doesn't work quite properly, but I think it might be getting better... It's just my left arm anyways, what do I ever use it for? Well, I've been finding out that I use it more often than I thought.

5/9/03:
You know, nothing beats the overall all-inclusive pleasant feeling that an imprompt frisbee circle brings about. I'm still high off of one earlier this evening at the Asian Languages and Literatures picnic.

On another note, I just have to finish a computer program and then all I have left is a couple tests, and then it is summer.

Summer is always a mixed bag.




5/8/03:

Yesterday provoked me.
First, I met with a nice girl from high school. I have over the years sent very personal emails to her, wherein I would go on about how I feel, what I should do, etc. So I'm talking to her yesterday and at every opportunity where I devolved into the same old schtick, she challenged me.
"I'm just not very excited at this point in life"
She attacks: "Why not?"
"I guess I'm just not meeting enough people"
She braces on: "then go and meet them."
And it continued.
Simple enough, but very unexpected from her. I dunno, this made me want to go and DO things.

Then, the second thing that got me yesterday was me crashing my bike. I was biking and suddenly my bike stopped, but I didn't, and both of us came crashing and skidding down. My arm doesn't seem to function quite so much today. Turns out the strap from the old backpack I was using must have dangled too far down and seized the perfect opportunity to jam between my spokes. Yikes!

So my spokes have been jammed in two ways yesterday I guess.

Also, i wore my hair funny, which I should award myself points for.

about right now though.....

Must take precious Ibuprofin.

there we go.



5/6/03:

Okay, so here it is. Time for me to really set this whole writing thing back on course.
So, the intent of this journal (even though it's not technically a journal because I am a lowly non-upgraded member), the intent of this journal is just to get at least a few brief words, feelings, experiences out at a fairly regular rate.


SO how do I feel today?

My hair is sticking up in all possible directions. Blame humidity? blame my hair? Get revenge later.

I thought of something today, I'm not sure it's clever anymore, but it seemed like it was at the time. Let me find it... Ah, I must have been in HyperHypothetical mode this afternoon, imagining charming phrases that would never be used in real life:
"Pretty? Why, she's even prettier than I am ugly. And that's saying a lot."

Well, it's a start.

How come I have to go to the bathroom again? Were the urinary gods not appeased by the last generous offering?

That's all for today. Baby steps.