This week's is brought to you by my growing frustration. I've chosen Prelude 12/21 by AFI because it really does express some of my feelings recently. Especially the last verse, but that's a matter for my journal, not my blog. ;)
Besides being expressive of my current mood, Prelude 12/21 also has some pretty iconic melody lines. Every once in a while, there's a song that just captures something in the melody, and it seems as if you've heard the song before. That's how it is with this song.
Prelude 12/21, by AFI
This is what I brought you, this you can keep.
This is what I brought, you may forget me.
I promise to depart, just promise one thing.
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.
This is what I brought you, this you can keep.
This is what I brought, you may forget me.
I promise you my heart just promise to sing.
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.
This is what I thought, I thought you’d need me.
This is what I thought, so think me naive
I'd promised you a heart, you'd promise to keep.
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.
`Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.`
25 October 2010
24 October 2010
In Denial
I was talking with a friend the other day about another friend. You could call it gossip, but I wouldn't for two simple reasons. First, we were talking about how my friend interacts with her friend, and second, it wasn't in any way negative about the friend's friend.
If you understand that, good for you. I'm not sure if I do myself.
Anyways, we were talking, and the subject of denial was brought up. Maybe it's because I've been in denial myself recently, or maybe because we were talking about it so recently, but I've been thinking about denial a lot.
This is how I figure it. Denial is not acknowledging that a problem exists, but in order for someone to be in denial, there needs to be a problem. It can be one you've observed for yourself, or it could be brought to your attention by someone else. But it has to exist, and the issue has to have been raised for denial to occur. Otherwise, it's just oblivion.
Did that make sense? I'll try it again.
Say someone has the problem of being an obsessive, compulsive neat freak, to the point of alienating others. Oblivion is when this OCD person doesn't realize that the neat freakiness of his or her personality is driving others away. Denial is when the person has realized for themselves or had it presented to them as the reason they have no friends. Capische?
Denial doesn't say "there is no problem." Denial says "this may be a problem, but I really don't want it to be." It's cowardly, in a way. Rather than confronting issues and challenges head-on, a person in denial subscribes to the ostriches' philosophy: If I don't see it, it doesn't exist. Denial is complacency, comfortableness with the status quo.
Well, sticking your head in the ground doesn't solve anything. And to be quite frank, the world is changing every second. The Future is being converted into the Past as the present rips away Now before we know it. Peter Pan is the hero most to be pitied, for he can never change who he is. And denying that a problem exist denies changes which are omnipresent.
Denial isn't oblivion. It's a choice; a conscious, active choice to ignore the state of the world around you. And if I indulge that decision, I'm no better than a traitor to reality.
B
If you understand that, good for you. I'm not sure if I do myself.
Anyways, we were talking, and the subject of denial was brought up. Maybe it's because I've been in denial myself recently, or maybe because we were talking about it so recently, but I've been thinking about denial a lot.
This is how I figure it. Denial is not acknowledging that a problem exists, but in order for someone to be in denial, there needs to be a problem. It can be one you've observed for yourself, or it could be brought to your attention by someone else. But it has to exist, and the issue has to have been raised for denial to occur. Otherwise, it's just oblivion.
Did that make sense? I'll try it again.
Say someone has the problem of being an obsessive, compulsive neat freak, to the point of alienating others. Oblivion is when this OCD person doesn't realize that the neat freakiness of his or her personality is driving others away. Denial is when the person has realized for themselves or had it presented to them as the reason they have no friends. Capische?
Denial doesn't say "there is no problem." Denial says "this may be a problem, but I really don't want it to be." It's cowardly, in a way. Rather than confronting issues and challenges head-on, a person in denial subscribes to the ostriches' philosophy: If I don't see it, it doesn't exist. Denial is complacency, comfortableness with the status quo.
Well, sticking your head in the ground doesn't solve anything. And to be quite frank, the world is changing every second. The Future is being converted into the Past as the present rips away Now before we know it. Peter Pan is the hero most to be pitied, for he can never change who he is. And denying that a problem exist denies changes which are omnipresent.
Denial isn't oblivion. It's a choice; a conscious, active choice to ignore the state of the world around you. And if I indulge that decision, I'm no better than a traitor to reality.
B
20 October 2010
Dreams, by EA Poe
Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream!
My spirit not awakening, till the beam
Of an Eternity should bring the morrow.
Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow,
'Twere better than the cold reality
Of waking life, to him whose heart must be,
And hath been still, upon the lovely earth,
A chaos of deep passion, from his birth.
But should it be- that dream eternally
Continuing- as dreams have been to me
In my young boyhood- should it thus be given,
'Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven.
For I have revell'd, when the sun was bright
I' the summer sky, in dreams of living light
And loveliness,- have left my very heart
In climes of my imagining, apart
From mine own home, with beings that have been
Of mine own thought- what more could I have seen?
'Twas once- and only once- and the wild hour
From my remembrance shall not pass- some power
Or spell had bound me- 'twas the chilly wind
Came o'er me in the night, and left behind
Its image on my spirit- or the moon
Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon
Too coldly- or the stars- howe'er it was
That dream was as that night-wind- let it pass.
I have been happy, tho' in a dream.
I have been happy- and I love the theme:
Dreams! in their vivid coloring of life,
As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife
Of semblance with reality, which brings
To the delirious eye, more lovely things
Of Paradise and Love- and all our own!
Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known.
My spirit not awakening, till the beam
Of an Eternity should bring the morrow.
Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow,
'Twere better than the cold reality
Of waking life, to him whose heart must be,
And hath been still, upon the lovely earth,
A chaos of deep passion, from his birth.
But should it be- that dream eternally
Continuing- as dreams have been to me
In my young boyhood- should it thus be given,
'Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven.
For I have revell'd, when the sun was bright
I' the summer sky, in dreams of living light
And loveliness,- have left my very heart
In climes of my imagining, apart
From mine own home, with beings that have been
Of mine own thought- what more could I have seen?
'Twas once- and only once- and the wild hour
From my remembrance shall not pass- some power
Or spell had bound me- 'twas the chilly wind
Came o'er me in the night, and left behind
Its image on my spirit- or the moon
Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon
Too coldly- or the stars- howe'er it was
That dream was as that night-wind- let it pass.
I have been happy, tho' in a dream.
I have been happy- and I love the theme:
Dreams! in their vivid coloring of life,
As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife
Of semblance with reality, which brings
To the delirious eye, more lovely things
Of Paradise and Love- and all our own!
Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known.
18 October 2010
I can assure this was going to be a scintillating look into my psyche. But it won't come out. I've run out of words to describe things now. So you'll have to bear with me as I bang on this keyboard, trying to make sense of it all.
First of, I should apologize to you, my reader, for turning this blog into little more than a vaguely worded personal journal. That was not my intent. When you have something you want to tell someone but cannot tell anyone, everyone is forced to deal with it. You've been subjected to far more navel-gazing than ever permissible. And if you've stuck through it, I am both humbled and penitent.
As for the reasons behind all this frustration and angst, I can't go into that. You're probably thinking something about the state of my sanity, and whatever it is, I'd probably agree.
Gah. I don't know.
I just don't have the words. They've gone. Shriveled. Disappeared. And with it, any hope of mine to explain to anyone anything that's going on with me. There's so much I could say, but won't. And that leaves very little of anything else.
Worse still, I owe it to a few people to tell them something inexpressible. What do I do? Walk up and drown these acquaintances with a torrent of words, emotions and problems they could care less about? That's not going to happen. Even if I were a thousand times worse, I wouldn't forget that other people exist and have their own problems.
The question still remains. What can I do about it? Nothing. All I can do is hope to weather this, that this too shall pass, and that I'll last longer than the ones I need to be strong for.
And if this post lasts past tomorrow, I shall be most surprised.
B, wordless
First of, I should apologize to you, my reader, for turning this blog into little more than a vaguely worded personal journal. That was not my intent. When you have something you want to tell someone but cannot tell anyone, everyone is forced to deal with it. You've been subjected to far more navel-gazing than ever permissible. And if you've stuck through it, I am both humbled and penitent.
As for the reasons behind all this frustration and angst, I can't go into that. You're probably thinking something about the state of my sanity, and whatever it is, I'd probably agree.
Gah. I don't know.
I just don't have the words. They've gone. Shriveled. Disappeared. And with it, any hope of mine to explain to anyone anything that's going on with me. There's so much I could say, but won't. And that leaves very little of anything else.
Worse still, I owe it to a few people to tell them something inexpressible. What do I do? Walk up and drown these acquaintances with a torrent of words, emotions and problems they could care less about? That's not going to happen. Even if I were a thousand times worse, I wouldn't forget that other people exist and have their own problems.
The question still remains. What can I do about it? Nothing. All I can do is hope to weather this, that this too shall pass, and that I'll last longer than the ones I need to be strong for.
And if this post lasts past tomorrow, I shall be most surprised.
B, wordless
Winterborn
After much rumination, the song I've chosen today is Winterborn, by the Cruxshadows. I've been reading Beowulf
recently, and this song reminds me a whole lot of Beowulf's final battle. A dragon starts ravaging
Beowulf's land, so he and his soldiers go to stop it. Beowulf is fatally injured, his soldiers run away, and
finally there is one young man left to help him slay the dragon. After the dragon dies, so does Beowulf.
Don't ask me how that applies to this song. But it makes sense to me. Actually, wait. I think I know the
connection now. It's because both Beowulf's death and this song outline classic ideals of heroism.
But without further ado,
Winterborn, by the Cruxshadows
Dry your eyes and quietly bear this pain with pride For heaven shall remember the silent and the brave And promise me they will never see, the fear within our eyes (my eyes are closed) We will give strength to those who still remain So bury fear, for fate draws near And hide the signs of pain With noble acts, the bravest souls Endure the heart's remains Discard regret, that in this debt A better world is made That children of a newer day might remember And avoid our fate (I've waited all day in the pouring rain, but nobody came, no, nobody came) And in the fury of this darkest hour We will be your light You've asked me for my sacrifice And I am Winter born Without denying, a faith is come That I have never known I hear the angels call my name And I am Winter born Hold your head up high-for there is no greater love Think of the faces of the people you defend (you defend) And promise me, they will never see the tears within our eyes (my eyes are closed) Although we are men, with mortal sins, angels never cry So bury fear, for fate draws near And hide the signs of pain With noble acts, the bravest souls Endure the heart's remains Discard regret, that in this debt A better world is made That children of a newer day might remember And avoid our fate And in the fury of this darkest hour We will be your light You've asked me for my sacrifice And I am Winter born Without denying, a faith in God That I have never known I hear the angels call my name And I am Winter born And in the fury of this darkest hour I will be your light A lifetime for this destiny For I am Winter born And in this moment..I will not run It is my place to stand We few shall carry hope Within our bloodied hands (bloodied hands) And in our Dying, we're more alive-than we have ever been I've lived for these few seconds For I am Winter born And in the fury of this darkest hour We will be the light You've asked me for my sacrifice And I am Winter born Without denying, a faith in man That I have never known I hear the angels call my name And I am Winter born Within this moment now I am for you, though better men have failed I will give my life for love For I am Winter born And in my dying I'm more alive, than I have ever been I will make this sacrifice For I am Winter born
B, who apologizes for the wonky formatting
13 October 2010
Snippet
I like it when a lot of my friends are green on gmail chat, not because I can talk to them, but because the green light reminds me that they exist.
11 October 2010
If I Ever Leave This World Alive
Well, I was looking through my archives of Music Mondays, and realized I hadn't introduced Flogging Molly, one of my favorite bands of all time. The only way to describe Flogging Molly is as an Irish-American Celtic punk band. They're brilliant.
So today, let me tell you about If I Ever Leave This World Alive, by Flogging Molly. Yes, the video is a Dr. Who fan vid. Deal with it.
*ahem* Well, If I Ever Leave This World Alive follows in the vein of a previous song, I Am Stretched On Your Grave. It's sweet, slightly morbid, and definitely something I want played at my funeral. It's also upbeat, pretty hopeful, and has a delicious little non-sequitur involved.
So without further ado,
If I Ever Leave This World Alive
If I ever leave this world alive
I'll thank for all the things you did in my life
If I ever leave this world alive
I'll come back down and sit beside your
feet tonight
Wherever I am you'll always be
More than just a memory
If I ever leave this world alive
If I ever leave this world alive
I'll take on all the sadness
That I left behind
If I ever leave this world alive
The madness that you feel will soon subside
So in a word don't shed a tear
I'll be here when it all gets weird
If I ever leave this world alive
So when in doubt just call my name
Just before you go insane
If I ever leave this world
Hey I may never leave this world
But if I ever leave this world alive
She says I'm okay; I'm alright,
Though you have gone from my life
You said that it would,
Now everything should be all right
She says I'm okay; I'm alright,
Though you have gone from my life
You said that it would,
Now everything should be all right
Yeah should be alright
So today, let me tell you about If I Ever Leave This World Alive, by Flogging Molly. Yes, the video is a Dr. Who fan vid. Deal with it.
*ahem* Well, If I Ever Leave This World Alive follows in the vein of a previous song, I Am Stretched On Your Grave. It's sweet, slightly morbid, and definitely something I want played at my funeral. It's also upbeat, pretty hopeful, and has a delicious little non-sequitur involved.
So without further ado,
If I Ever Leave This World Alive
If I ever leave this world alive
I'll thank for all the things you did in my life
If I ever leave this world alive
I'll come back down and sit beside your
feet tonight
Wherever I am you'll always be
More than just a memory
If I ever leave this world alive
If I ever leave this world alive
I'll take on all the sadness
That I left behind
If I ever leave this world alive
The madness that you feel will soon subside
So in a word don't shed a tear
I'll be here when it all gets weird
If I ever leave this world alive
So when in doubt just call my name
Just before you go insane
If I ever leave this world
Hey I may never leave this world
But if I ever leave this world alive
She says I'm okay; I'm alright,
Though you have gone from my life
You said that it would,
Now everything should be all right
She says I'm okay; I'm alright,
Though you have gone from my life
You said that it would,
Now everything should be all right
Yeah should be alright
09 October 2010
painted ship upon a painted ocean
I feel like the Ancient Mariner. I'm on a ship, drifting in the doldrums with no crew but the dead bodies of my compatriots, no water, no food, and no hope of salvation in sight. Water like witch's oil, slimy creatures crawling with slimy legs upon the slimy sea, and no other souls in the area. Just me and God.
When I was little, my favorite book began: "I see the moon, and the moon sees me. Does anyone know I'm alone here at sea?" The clues are all there, if one cared to look. But no one has, and I don't blame them. It's easier to mind your own business than to be caught up in what is not your concern. Everyone has a clue, but no one has cared to put them together.
Tomorrow, my friend Toothpick is getting married. A lot of her bridesmaids are my good friends, back from college, and naively, I thought things would be the same. Wrong. They've moved on to quarters and classes and roommates and floor parties and crazy professors, and I've been left behind. Granted, I did see this coming, but "I told you so" never solved anything. The same feeling of shyness and aloneness has invaded the relationships I have with the few people I trust. No, I'd never bring up confidences in the middle of Toothpick's bachelorette party, but I had hoped that I'd see something, anything, that would show that the friendship is not just withering. Wrong again.
The same feeling of aloneness, shyness, quiet resignation from my stranger-friends is also found around the people I'd previously called mates. Now I'm just confused, and I don't know exactly what to do. I've told these friends things I wouldn't have had I known they'd moved on this much. My fault, not theirs. I don't blame them. I guess the only thing to do is not trust them with more confidences. I don't know.
"Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.
The many men, so beautiful!
And they all dead did lie;
And a thousand thousand slimy things
Lived on; and so did I."
B
When I was little, my favorite book began: "I see the moon, and the moon sees me. Does anyone know I'm alone here at sea?" The clues are all there, if one cared to look. But no one has, and I don't blame them. It's easier to mind your own business than to be caught up in what is not your concern. Everyone has a clue, but no one has cared to put them together.
Tomorrow, my friend Toothpick is getting married. A lot of her bridesmaids are my good friends, back from college, and naively, I thought things would be the same. Wrong. They've moved on to quarters and classes and roommates and floor parties and crazy professors, and I've been left behind. Granted, I did see this coming, but "I told you so" never solved anything. The same feeling of shyness and aloneness has invaded the relationships I have with the few people I trust. No, I'd never bring up confidences in the middle of Toothpick's bachelorette party, but I had hoped that I'd see something, anything, that would show that the friendship is not just withering. Wrong again.
The same feeling of aloneness, shyness, quiet resignation from my stranger-friends is also found around the people I'd previously called mates. Now I'm just confused, and I don't know exactly what to do. I've told these friends things I wouldn't have had I known they'd moved on this much. My fault, not theirs. I don't blame them. I guess the only thing to do is not trust them with more confidences. I don't know.
"Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.
The many men, so beautiful!
And they all dead did lie;
And a thousand thousand slimy things
Lived on; and so did I."
B
07 October 2010
Paranoia
For a couple weeks, I've been a little concerned about friendships. More specificially, how I feel around my friends.
I'm the type of person who questions everything - and I mean everything - before doing anything. Before saying anything. I examine my motives, my opinions, my hopes, anything that could affect my decision very closely before taking action.
Imagine my surprise and discomfort, then, when I discovered the following fact: I was feeling oddly around my guy-friends, and whatever this unidentified feeling was, it was strongly influencing my actions. Now that's an embarrassing realization.
Let me explain why: I don't take actions without knowing why I'm doing them. Now, I've got an emotional memory going back to 2005, when I was 12. By emotional memory, I mean, I can recognize emotions I've had since that time.
I haven't felt whatever it is I'm feeling for as long as I can remember. For a while, my working theory was that it was what people commonly call "a crush." Problem being, I haven't had a crush since my *ahem* boy-crazy days (circa 2003-2004), so I wouldn't know one if it introduced itself with a handshake. I hoped it wasn't, but I couldn't know. "Crush" seemed the only option.
That is, until I realized that I felt the same way around pretty much all my friends left here in Washington. Including the gal-friends. If the feeling is a "crush," I really don't like the implication.
So it can't be a crush. I won't allow it. Then I got to thinking. This feeling is remarkably similar to my first day of co-op, my first day of choir, my first day of speech club. In other words, the closest match I have is shyness.
This new implication, while still upsetting, is nonetheless less disturbing than being attracted to all my friends.
...
But still. Shyness? really? I'm shy around the only people I can call friends who I still physically interact with every week? I'm shy around the two guys I spent over 70 hours with this summer? I'm shy around my duo-partner, Calvin? Around girls I paged with? Around people I call my friends?
And yet, I still treat them as strangers. Are they friends of necessity?
How can I call people my friends if they don't know me, and I don't know them?
I don't know. I just really, don't know.
B
I'm the type of person who questions everything - and I mean everything - before doing anything. Before saying anything. I examine my motives, my opinions, my hopes, anything that could affect my decision very closely before taking action.
Imagine my surprise and discomfort, then, when I discovered the following fact: I was feeling oddly around my guy-friends, and whatever this unidentified feeling was, it was strongly influencing my actions. Now that's an embarrassing realization.
Let me explain why: I don't take actions without knowing why I'm doing them. Now, I've got an emotional memory going back to 2005, when I was 12. By emotional memory, I mean, I can recognize emotions I've had since that time.
I haven't felt whatever it is I'm feeling for as long as I can remember. For a while, my working theory was that it was what people commonly call "a crush." Problem being, I haven't had a crush since my *ahem* boy-crazy days (circa 2003-2004), so I wouldn't know one if it introduced itself with a handshake. I hoped it wasn't, but I couldn't know. "Crush" seemed the only option.
That is, until I realized that I felt the same way around pretty much all my friends left here in Washington. Including the gal-friends. If the feeling is a "crush," I really don't like the implication.
So it can't be a crush. I won't allow it. Then I got to thinking. This feeling is remarkably similar to my first day of co-op, my first day of choir, my first day of speech club. In other words, the closest match I have is shyness.
This new implication, while still upsetting, is nonetheless less disturbing than being attracted to all my friends.
...
But still. Shyness? really? I'm shy around the only people I can call friends who I still physically interact with every week? I'm shy around the two guys I spent over 70 hours with this summer? I'm shy around my duo-partner, Calvin? Around girls I paged with? Around people I call my friends?
And yet, I still treat them as strangers. Are they friends of necessity?
How can I call people my friends if they don't know me, and I don't know them?
I don't know. I just really, don't know.
B
29 September 2010
Paradox
***PARADOX: Bad people do good things***
If any of you are like me, you've heard words to this effect in the past. Or at least, heard statements that, when added together, form this conclusion.
But if you are like me, then you probably haven't thought about it too much. Well, I didn't, until the past couple of days.
So here's the thing: Us humans love categorizing each other.
Us and Them
Normal and Different
Introvert and Extrovert
Well, you get the idea. We classify each other. And one of the most time-honored labels is the moral label: Good People vs. Bad People.
We see it all the way into the dawn of history - the people we like are "good," the people we don't are "bad." And with the bad ones, we have nothing in common. Nothing they do are things we approve of.
Now, I'm all for a black and white view of morality: Some actions are inherently good, some actions are inherently evil. But things get a little grey when we get to classifying people as "good" and "evil." It's the human element.
See, I believe that people are inherently bad. If given a choice of admitting you broke the lamp or denying all knowledge of the lamp's existence, a person in their natural, non-religious, non-moral state will deny the lamp's very existence.
We're all bad. Even Ghandi. Even Mother Theresa. Especially Barack Obama.
*ahem* This is Problematic's editor. The political opinions expressed in this blog post are the sole opinions of Problematic's, not the publishing staff. This includes but is not limited to the fingers, the keyboard, the eyes, and lastly, the editor.
Like I said. Every single person on this earth is naturally going to choose to do the wrong thing. This is where it gets interesting. See, humans don't exist alone without any sort of morality. Look around your world. Churchs, synagogues, mosques, kingdom halls, meditation centers - they all jostle for position in the minds of the pious.
Humans are moral creatures. With the exception of a few atheists who don't believe in them (but still act on them), we can see those inherent morals. What are they? As a Christian, I believe God gave me and you a conscience, to remind us of what is right and what is wrong. But we can argue about that later.
The point is, religions have sprouted throughout the world, teaching of right thought, of right living as they go. And with religion comes the distinctions.
Us and Them
Enlightened and Pagan
Right and Wrong
Good and Bad
Anyone who thinks differently than me is automatically branded with those labels: Different, Pagan, Wrong, Bad - specific words don't matter but the sentiment that remains is the same. He's not One Of Us. Because someone who is One Of Us is good. They think like us, they believe like us.
But that doesn't make us More Good. We're all such awful, stinking, disgusting, slimy, gross, disturbing examples of humanity that a little religion isn't going to do anything about it.
Even Christians. Our "religion" won't save us. Just because we don't drink alcohol or date or chew tobacco or follow any of the legalistic trappings the church has put on us as a prerequisite for knowing God doesn't make us more holy, more justified, More Good than anyone else. We're all in for it, and being a Lutheran or a Seventh-Day Adventist won't save you.
So how does this fit in with the paradox?
***PARADOX: Bad people do good things***
Let's take an example. Say, one of the terrorists who helped fly a plane into the World Trade Centers on 11 September, 2001. (Yes, yes, terribly American-centric, but tough. I live in America.)
Now, what he did was wrong, evil. Taking the lives of almost 3,000 people is completely evil. And the man himself, he was evil.
Just like me. Just like you.
But that doesn't mean every action he took was evil. His family - he may have loved them dearly. He gave alms to the poor. He did good things, but his final act was an act of evil. This is an extreme example, I know. But it applies to many, many more people than we feel comfortable admitting.
And this is where things get sticky. These labels that we arbitrarily stick on others, they don't like shades of grey. Either you're one of Us, or you're one of Them. With us or Against us.
But as beings with great capacity for evil, we also have capacity for good. We have shades of grey.
***PARADOX: Bad people do good things.***
You will not live a perfect life. You'll never even come close. One good action may not make you a good person, but it is good, it is right, it is noble, honorable, self-sacrificial, nonetheless.
Think on that one for a while.
B
If any of you are like me, you've heard words to this effect in the past. Or at least, heard statements that, when added together, form this conclusion.
But if you are like me, then you probably haven't thought about it too much. Well, I didn't, until the past couple of days.
So here's the thing: Us humans love categorizing each other.
Us and Them
Normal and Different
Introvert and Extrovert
Well, you get the idea. We classify each other. And one of the most time-honored labels is the moral label: Good People vs. Bad People.
We see it all the way into the dawn of history - the people we like are "good," the people we don't are "bad." And with the bad ones, we have nothing in common. Nothing they do are things we approve of.
Now, I'm all for a black and white view of morality: Some actions are inherently good, some actions are inherently evil. But things get a little grey when we get to classifying people as "good" and "evil." It's the human element.
See, I believe that people are inherently bad. If given a choice of admitting you broke the lamp or denying all knowledge of the lamp's existence, a person in their natural, non-religious, non-moral state will deny the lamp's very existence.
We're all bad. Even Ghandi. Even Mother Theresa. Especially Barack Obama.
*ahem* This is Problematic's editor. The political opinions expressed in this blog post are the sole opinions of Problematic's, not the publishing staff. This includes but is not limited to the fingers, the keyboard, the eyes, and lastly, the editor.
Like I said. Every single person on this earth is naturally going to choose to do the wrong thing. This is where it gets interesting. See, humans don't exist alone without any sort of morality. Look around your world. Churchs, synagogues, mosques, kingdom halls, meditation centers - they all jostle for position in the minds of the pious.
Humans are moral creatures. With the exception of a few atheists who don't believe in them (but still act on them), we can see those inherent morals. What are they? As a Christian, I believe God gave me and you a conscience, to remind us of what is right and what is wrong. But we can argue about that later.
The point is, religions have sprouted throughout the world, teaching of right thought, of right living as they go. And with religion comes the distinctions.
Us and Them
Enlightened and Pagan
Right and Wrong
Good and Bad
Anyone who thinks differently than me is automatically branded with those labels: Different, Pagan, Wrong, Bad - specific words don't matter but the sentiment that remains is the same. He's not One Of Us. Because someone who is One Of Us is good. They think like us, they believe like us.
But that doesn't make us More Good. We're all such awful, stinking, disgusting, slimy, gross, disturbing examples of humanity that a little religion isn't going to do anything about it.
Even Christians. Our "religion" won't save us. Just because we don't drink alcohol or date or chew tobacco or follow any of the legalistic trappings the church has put on us as a prerequisite for knowing God doesn't make us more holy, more justified, More Good than anyone else. We're all in for it, and being a Lutheran or a Seventh-Day Adventist won't save you.
So how does this fit in with the paradox?
***PARADOX: Bad people do good things***
Let's take an example. Say, one of the terrorists who helped fly a plane into the World Trade Centers on 11 September, 2001. (Yes, yes, terribly American-centric, but tough. I live in America.)
Now, what he did was wrong, evil. Taking the lives of almost 3,000 people is completely evil. And the man himself, he was evil.
Just like me. Just like you.
But that doesn't mean every action he took was evil. His family - he may have loved them dearly. He gave alms to the poor. He did good things, but his final act was an act of evil. This is an extreme example, I know. But it applies to many, many more people than we feel comfortable admitting.
And this is where things get sticky. These labels that we arbitrarily stick on others, they don't like shades of grey. Either you're one of Us, or you're one of Them. With us or Against us.
But as beings with great capacity for evil, we also have capacity for good. We have shades of grey.
***PARADOX: Bad people do good things.***
You will not live a perfect life. You'll never even come close. One good action may not make you a good person, but it is good, it is right, it is noble, honorable, self-sacrificial, nonetheless.
Think on that one for a while.
B
27 September 2010
Jar of Hearts
It's high time I started doing these again. They're enjoyable for me: I do not know, nor care if my beloved readers could care less.
Let me introduce you to this song called Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri. The lovely Grey and delightful Ophelia introduced me to this song last week, and I have highly enjoyed it. Although, I have a confession to make: when I first heard that song, I immediately thought of one of my friends who is a guy. My second thought was "Problematic, don't be so uncharitable."
I really enjoy this song because of the resolve evident in the lyrics. In a lot of songs about failed romance, the lyrics are sappy, come to no conclusion, and waffle about the singer's love like a girl picking petals off of a daisy. Not so with Jar of Hearts. The speaker concludes "so don't come back for me. Don't come back at all" without sounding mad or extremely grumpy. It's resolved.
The second, greater reason I like this song is because the lyrics are superbly written. I won't spoil it for you, but the images and ideas that Perri conjures up in just a few words are brilliant. If I could be half of a songwriter as she, I would count myself lucky.
Ladies and Gents, without further ado:
Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri
No I can’t take one more step towards you
Cause all that’s waiting is regret
And don’t you know I’m not your ghost anymore
You lost the love I loved the most
I learned to live half alive
And now you want me one more time
And who do you think you are
Running around leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don’t come back for me
Who do you think you are
I hear you're asking all around
If I am anywhere to be found
But I have grown too strong
To ever fall back in your arms
I learned to live half alive
And now you want me one more time
And who do you think you are
Running around leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don’t come back for me
Who do you think you are
And it took so long just to feel alright
Remember how to put back the light in my eyes
I wish I would have missed the first time that we kissed
Cause you broke all your promises
And now you're back
You don’t get to get me back
And who do you think you are
Running around leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
Don’t come back for me
Don’t come back at all
And who do you think you are
Running around leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
Don’t come back for me
Don’t come back at all
Who do you think you are
Who do you think you are
Who do you think you are
Let me introduce you to this song called Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri. The lovely Grey and delightful Ophelia introduced me to this song last week, and I have highly enjoyed it. Although, I have a confession to make: when I first heard that song, I immediately thought of one of my friends who is a guy. My second thought was "Problematic, don't be so uncharitable."
I really enjoy this song because of the resolve evident in the lyrics. In a lot of songs about failed romance, the lyrics are sappy, come to no conclusion, and waffle about the singer's love like a girl picking petals off of a daisy. Not so with Jar of Hearts. The speaker concludes "so don't come back for me. Don't come back at all" without sounding mad or extremely grumpy. It's resolved.
The second, greater reason I like this song is because the lyrics are superbly written. I won't spoil it for you, but the images and ideas that Perri conjures up in just a few words are brilliant. If I could be half of a songwriter as she, I would count myself lucky.
Ladies and Gents, without further ado:
Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri
No I can’t take one more step towards you
Cause all that’s waiting is regret
And don’t you know I’m not your ghost anymore
You lost the love I loved the most
I learned to live half alive
And now you want me one more time
And who do you think you are
Running around leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don’t come back for me
Who do you think you are
I hear you're asking all around
If I am anywhere to be found
But I have grown too strong
To ever fall back in your arms
I learned to live half alive
And now you want me one more time
And who do you think you are
Running around leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
So don’t come back for me
Who do you think you are
And it took so long just to feel alright
Remember how to put back the light in my eyes
I wish I would have missed the first time that we kissed
Cause you broke all your promises
And now you're back
You don’t get to get me back
And who do you think you are
Running around leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
Don’t come back for me
Don’t come back at all
And who do you think you are
Running around leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts
And tearing love apart
You’re gonna catch a cold
From the ice inside your soul
Don’t come back for me
Don’t come back at all
Who do you think you are
Who do you think you are
Who do you think you are
16 September 2010
In Which Problematic Rambles On and On
Well, that's it, folks. School has officially started as of yesterday. I was wandering around the halls of Coop B, looking for my mates, only to have the realization hit home that they were all at college.
***Important Definition***
"Mates" = close friends, those with whom you can simply exist. No pretense, no masquerade. Just existence.
Now, I know plenty of people there. I know names, I could probably list faces, but they're no one I'm terribly comfortable around. Joining a conversation is awkward: it's filled with jokes I don't get, or silence that continues until I leave. These acquaintances are quite free with their hugs and physical signs of affection, but skin deep is all they ever get. The masquerade continues.
Yesterday, I felt the need to talk to someone, but no mates presented themselves. I can see an awful lot of people with potential to be mates, but they're still quite distant. They're barely in town, let alone the keep. Some of them even have shrugged me off. Now, don't think this I've got a "poor me" attitude.
I've come to an unfortunate conclusion. Not merely based on yesterday's disappointment, not based merely on my dislike of Coop B. Rather, this particular conclusion has been ruminating for a while.
The conclusion: I can never be as important to other people as they are to me. Maybe I'm clutching them too tightly, but mates make such a difference to me, I cannot fully explain it. I savor every moment when
I'm with them. And they've all moved on.
This conclusion is a not something I've really wanted to accept for a while. I reject your reality and substitute my own.
Except it doesn't work that way. It's painful. Not sharp, just aching. And it's made worse by seeing my close acquaintances completely oblivious. Granted, the oblivion is just another piece in my self-made cage, but the cage is harder to break than you'd think. ... Though, the fact that I'm writing this now is a sign that there are some weaknesses.
It's the oblivion that aches like a puzzle without a piece. And try though I may, nothing I can say or do will change that. Believe me, I've tried. But this isolation, this loneliness, this emptiness is not going away anytime in the forseeable future.
How can I know so much about them, but they know so little about me? I can even fake bad moods to keep them on the wrong track.
I've considered the unthinkable - telling some of these not-strangers what probably counts as my most secret secret. All for the sake of a few mates. But I know how the strangers would react: and so I'm left nursing my secret and my achy heart. I can hear you now: Oh, your poor, bleeding heart! But it's not melodrama, not this time.
So what are you going to do? Well, I go back to staring at happy people through the Plexiglass of my self-made cage, and wait for the air to run out, I guess. The glass is thinner than it used to be, but not enough. Not air, not light, not words, not love can get through.
B
***Important Definition***
"Mates" = close friends, those with whom you can simply exist. No pretense, no masquerade. Just existence.
Now, I know plenty of people there. I know names, I could probably list faces, but they're no one I'm terribly comfortable around. Joining a conversation is awkward: it's filled with jokes I don't get, or silence that continues until I leave. These acquaintances are quite free with their hugs and physical signs of affection, but skin deep is all they ever get. The masquerade continues.
Yesterday, I felt the need to talk to someone, but no mates presented themselves. I can see an awful lot of people with potential to be mates, but they're still quite distant. They're barely in town, let alone the keep. Some of them even have shrugged me off. Now, don't think this I've got a "poor me" attitude.
I've come to an unfortunate conclusion. Not merely based on yesterday's disappointment, not based merely on my dislike of Coop B. Rather, this particular conclusion has been ruminating for a while.
The conclusion: I can never be as important to other people as they are to me. Maybe I'm clutching them too tightly, but mates make such a difference to me, I cannot fully explain it. I savor every moment when
I'm with them. And they've all moved on.
This conclusion is a not something I've really wanted to accept for a while. I reject your reality and substitute my own.
Except it doesn't work that way. It's painful. Not sharp, just aching. And it's made worse by seeing my close acquaintances completely oblivious. Granted, the oblivion is just another piece in my self-made cage, but the cage is harder to break than you'd think. ... Though, the fact that I'm writing this now is a sign that there are some weaknesses.
It's the oblivion that aches like a puzzle without a piece. And try though I may, nothing I can say or do will change that. Believe me, I've tried. But this isolation, this loneliness, this emptiness is not going away anytime in the forseeable future.
How can I know so much about them, but they know so little about me? I can even fake bad moods to keep them on the wrong track.
I've considered the unthinkable - telling some of these not-strangers what probably counts as my most secret secret. All for the sake of a few mates. But I know how the strangers would react: and so I'm left nursing my secret and my achy heart. I can hear you now: Oh, your poor, bleeding heart! But it's not melodrama, not this time.
So what are you going to do? Well, I go back to staring at happy people through the Plexiglass of my self-made cage, and wait for the air to run out, I guess. The glass is thinner than it used to be, but not enough. Not air, not light, not words, not love can get through.
B
02 September 2010
Openness Review
So there you have it. 40 of my secrets are now published on the web for the world to view. If they even notice. It leads me to wonder if I shouldn't call them something other than "secret."
Anyways, we've seen that I'm pretty insecure about friends, and that I have some weird quirks and habits. Normally scheduled Music Mondays will restart next week.
Anyways, we've seen that I'm pretty insecure about friends, and that I have some weird quirks and habits. Normally scheduled Music Mondays will restart next week.
01 September 2010
31 August 2010
30 August 2010
Secret 38
I question my motives for doing things over and over again, but half the time, I end up not doing anything.
29 August 2010
Secret 37
Sometimes I wonder if my emotions are really mine, or if they're just imitations of what other people feel.
28 August 2010
27 August 2010
26 August 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)