Friday, December 12, 2008
No One Will Ever Know
No one will ever know the number of people who had crushes on them; or that liked them; or that almost asked them out; or who all these people were.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Collected Musings
On Christianity
The true fulfillment of Christianity is service to others. Or, to eliminate the possibility of mistaken connotations, "the infusion of love towards others in every social interaction."
If the Christian faith were solely about introspective improvement and the elimination of sin within our lives, it would not, could not, turn the world upside-down. Yet we cannot separate the internal and the external, for to live with internal and external lives at variance with one another is to live in perpetual conflict.
Christianity is not about the forgiveness of guilt, for guilt is not a sin, but merely the symptom of sin. What is sin? Sin is a failure to love. Love God, or to love thy neighbour. Anything that does not fall under this category is not a sin. But what does it mean to love God?
It can be said that love is contextual. In different cultures, the requirements of love will vary greatly. For some, there is deep meaning in removing footwear prior to entering a holy place. Others may find deepest devotion to God in praising His name with uplifted hands amidst a concert with loud music and ringing ears.
It would be a mistake, however, to assume that there is no shared definition of love that crosses all bounds of culture. One such definition, in every culture I know of, is to adapt oneself to the desires and tastes of the cherished object.
God has revealed his tastes and desires in writing to us through the Bible. Through the Bible, God has given specific instructions on how to honour him--the ten commandments being one. Many people split up the ten commandments into four and six--love towards God and love towards man--but the ten commandments are actually one set of ten--love to both God and man. To not kill or commit adultery is as much honour to God as it is to other people.
In culture and our environment, we have been granted a unique and unmatched perspective on life--a lens, per se, that focuses on some depth of our world and allows us to see some objects more clearly, while others the lens blurs. We can have a pretty good idea of what we can see sharply, but as we have only one lens, who are we to say that others can see more or less clearly than ourselves?
So it is with faith. It is up to us to live our faith in the deepest and most meaningful way possible based on our culture--our perspective. It is up to us to seek out other peoples' lenses and experiences and use them to bring our own worlds into focus. It is up to us to share our own experiences to help others see more clearly. But it is not ours to judge the depth and meaning of someone else's religious experience. Only God and the follower can know the sincerity and devotion of their own faith.
What do I see in God?
I see a God who is honoured by our devotion in the little things without neglecting the larger things. When we keep the sabbath exactly from sundown to sundown, in communion with God and fellow worshippers, I believe He is honoured by our concern for His instruction. When we extend this communion in love for Him and others throughout the rest of the week, He is touched. Would a significant other act any differently?
I have found that even in the little things that God has asked us to do, for seemingly no reason that applies to us, should I challenge their value for today, God ends up proven right, be it a few days or a few years later. I find that God granted us His instruction for our own good, and not just to watch us jump hoops. I find that God granted us common sense to figure out for ourselves which of His advice applies only to specific situations, and how to take general principles from them to then guide our lives.
I choose to live my life in this manner. I do not expect others to do so, unless their culture and life experiences can make such a life meaningful to them.
The important universal thing is love, at all times, within all contexts. That is what it means to be Christian.
On Culture
Thanks to mass media, more people have knowledge of global events as they happen; thanks to education, more people are educated enough to make sense of these global events and form an opinion of them.
This trend has accelerated with the Internet, as people have learned how to educate themselves, quickly, resulting in a move from "consult the relevant expert" to "become your own expert." The trend to self-expertise has been exaggerated by the population boom in the past 200 years, where we have gone from a planet with fewer than a billion people to one approaching seven billion.
The result is where you had Beethoven, king and undisputed authority on music but 200 years ago, you now have fractured leadership atop the musical field. Expertise is diluted. The same applies to every field.
Today everyone's an expert. And that means no one is an expert. Which means... we now live in a communist society. But it's no longer a communism of class, politics, or power--it's a communism of information, opinion, and talent.
"Communism creates equality by making all men poor." But thanks to pluralism and the internet, everyone's opinion matters--meaning no one's opinion matters--because of the communism of information.
This communism isn't enforced by a police state: there are no wiretaps, no death penalties, no re-education camps to enforce this communism upon us. Rather, we enforce this communism upon ourselves, by demanding our own self-importance.
It is foolish to allow that all opinions are of equal value. Certainly in an election every vote counts--but when a friend tells you to ask someone out and another says not to, and the date ends badly, very badly, obviously one person was right and the other was wrong. Would you rather have Beethoven or your mother teaching you music?
How many Beethovens of this generation have been lost because they went unrecognized? How many Beethovens drown in the sea of our own self-importance?
By demanding equality, we destroy greatness.
On Economics
Every penny saved is someone else's debt.
Thought experiment: you have a clothes-maker, a farmer, a teacher, a priest, and a police-officer. Each one's services can be retained for one year for $10,000--the clothes-maker to provide sufficient clothing for a year, the farmer food, the teacher education, and so forth. Therefore, everyone makes $40,000 a year, and everyone spends $40,000 a year.
Now, suppose the teacher wished to double their consumption of services. The teacher now spends $80,000 per year, but still only makes $40,000 per year, so at year-end, the teacher will be $40,000 in debt. But because of the teacher's extra-spending, everyone else will have made $50,000, while still only spending $40,000; thus, at year-end, everyone else will own $10,000.
The combined savings of the four will equal $40,000, the same as the teacher's debt; therefore savings equal debt.
Now, suppose that the four were to agree to equally spend whatever money they received throughout the year. After one iteration, each spends $50,000 and makes $58,000, with the teacher's debt being reduced to $32,000; the second iteration would see spending hit $58,000, earnings hit $64,400 and the teacher's debt would drop to $27,600; this would continue until all parties reached $80,000 in spending and income, and at the moment none of the four had savings, the teacher would have no debt.
As the Earth is a closed economic system, just as the model above, it can be shown that hoarding cash puts other people in debt, and is therefore criminal. This model also shows that the sooner people spend money they earn, the healthier the economy is. (That is, the faster the next guy in the chain gets his money, the sooner he can spend it, and the sooner it returns to you.)
It is a well-known financial principle that you should only spend money you have, and should always maintain some savings for emergencies. How then can this principle be considered valid in light of this theory (as you couldn't purchase, say, a car, without saving up money for months in order to be able to afford it)?
Government debt. The government goes into debt to enable us to own cash reserves. That is, in fact, the origination of the dollar bill--by owning a dollar bill, the government said it owed you one dollar. Thus all cash balances really are someone else's debt.
As of last I heard, the US government owed $10 trillion dollars. If you split that evenly among the 300,000,000 American citizens, that comes out to a little over $30,000 per person. Thus it is morally right for people to own cash reserves up to $30,000.
But companies require cash balances too--usually much more than people. Suppose that companies require cash balances close to $8,000 per employee--enough for four bi-weekly paycheques of $2,000. Based on a guesstimate that there are 120,000 registered companies in the US, that would provide for companies to hold an average cash balance of $1,000,000. (Obviously, this number would rise or fall based on number of employees, and therefore size of company and need for such a cash balance.)
This still leaves people with $22,000 that they can hold morally as a cash balance without fear that they are putting someone else into debt or harming the economy. Though this is the amount government debt enables you to own, it still holds true that a) the faster you spend your money, the healthier the economy will be, and b) there will always be people who try to cheat the system, along the lines of the famous "Tragedy of the Commons."
So to return to the initial thought exercise: suppose one day the clothes-maker decides to double the price of clothes. Thus everyone else pays $50,000 a year to meet their needs, while earning only $40,000; the clothes-maker would earn $80,000, but spend only $40,000. Thus the clothes-maker finishes the year $40,000 in the green, and everyone else is $10,000 in the red.
But suppose the clothes-maker feels conscientious enough about his actions that he spends the entire $40,000 profit within the year on his fellow-workers, thus enabling them to avoid debt. In contrast with the first year, when all earned $40,000 and the economy was balanced, each of the four other workers would have to work harder to produce more goods to sell to the clothes-maker at the initial rate; but at least they would survive.
The clothes-maker would see his quality of life rise, who for the same amount of effort now receives more produce; everyone else's quality of life would decline, as they would work harder to maintain the same quality of life they had in the past. Note: despite earning double, the clothes-maker's quality of life would only rise 25%, as he could only afford 25% more of each good.
After a few years of working like horses to support the clothes-maker's affluence, the remaining four workers decided they had enough and double their rates as well. Thus, $80,000 in this system is worth what $40,000 was worth only a few years earlier. This is inflation.
On its own, there's nothing wrong with it, as the quality of life of each worker is the same at the beginning and the end; and it allows people to make capital purchases now that are a little beyond their means, knowing that in the future, their cash debt will decrease in value with the value of cash. The problem occurs when there are multiple competing currencies, in which case a currency whose cash value is rapidly falling may soon be unable to purchase anything from the other currencies. But so long as standard of living rises along with it, there should be no problem.
Inflation can thus be simplified as one of two things-- a) a correction in the balance of prices, as the other workers try to get fair value for their services; b) some overzealous clothes-maker who tries to get himself a better standard of living than everyone else. Granted, a and b are really one and the same thing, depending on whose viewpoint you are taking, as everyone seems to think "fair value for their services" is higher than it is right now.
Thus in the real world everyone slowly raises their own prices bit by bit, almost like a horse race. For instance, at this point in the story, the clothes-maker could decide to double his rates at the same time the four other workers "catch-up", in order to maintain his own high standards.
A good example of this working in real life would be the current economic crisis. You'll recall two summers ago that the price of gas spiked dramatically. This had the effect of the clothes-seller doubling his rates. Everyone tried to maintain their standard of living, but soon realized that this caused them to go into debt. As most places of work do not have a mechanism for the entire factory to work 10 extra hours of overtime when prices rise, the only option remaining to avoid debt was to stop spending (lower one's own standard of living). Slowing the rate of spending and holding onto one's earnings in this manner has the unfortunate effect of collapsing the market; increased debt has the consequence of defaulted loans/mortgages; and here you have the US economic collapse of 2008 in a nutshell. All because a ridiculous jump in the price of oil strained the average person's finances. (And I suspect the ridiculous profits the oil companies piled up at this time didn't get returned to the people/spent as fast as they could have.)
Disclaimer: I have never taken a class in business or economics in my life--as such, this entire section consisted of mainly my own theories. If there is an error in the above, I would appreciate a business major pointing it out to me.
On Government
A government occurs when a collective body of people join forces for mutual security and economic gain. A government is when a group of citizens forms an economic bloc to negotiate a better deal with the world and in the world. A government is when people mutually pool their resources to create and build infrastructure and systems for the mutual economic benefit of all.
People have the right to choose between varying competing governmental systems on the earth, but do not have the right to secede from government and create their own, as currently existing governments have a monopoly on all land area on the planet.
If one wishes to create a new competing government, through warring to acquire land, one assumes all the responsibilities of government, including security--and therefore should this government fail in any regard, they will be responsible for choosing that government to represent them, and are responsible for suffering any consequences of that poor choice.
Thankfully, most government find it immoral to summarily execute the citizens of a failed government.
On the other hand, most governments find it equally immoral to war over land in these modern times; and thus, should you even begin to attempt this, you can expect a coalition of 200+ nations to oppose your efforts.
On Community
The two-party system, for dummies--a child grows up, with pre-conceived ideas and opinions formed from family and education; sometime around the first election they care about/are conscious of (usually between ages 10-20), they examine which party best fits their pre-conceived ideas. Having chosen a party, they then conform the rest of their ideals (that didn't fit to begin with) to that party, and become a mental card-carrying member, if not officially. (Understand that for purposes of this argument, being Independent also qualifies as a party, a third-party in the two-party system, as many independents share a mind-set to the point they would qualify as a political party.)
This may be because of a need for community, a need to belong. It's much easier to face the world when you know that there are others out there who think like you--mental companionship. This might also be a mental process to justify casting a ballot in favour of one party or another--I voted for it, so I must believe it. Either way, it results in mindless support of one party and mindless opposition to the other throughout an election campaign.
Truth is, both parties sleep around, both parties steal public money, both parties cross the bounds of "political correctness" with ads and both parties go right up to the line the law allows them to, while as frequently as can be quietly done cross over it. But when the "other" party gets discovered, it's decried as evidence of dishonesty, poor morals, and non-concern for the law, while when one's own party messes up, it's an honest mistake. It's the same thing, people!
This same mindset to political parties can be applied to any community humans belong to. It's only in politics that communities clash with each other so frequently. When other forms of communities clash, the results are the same. Sports teams, home towns, churches, families... any time one of your own messes up, you either call it an "honest mistake" or ostracize them from your community (or leave yourself); when the arch-rival messes up, you're calling for blood and demanding justice.
Politics has this heightening sensation on community conflict, because politics deals with what is most personal to us--our core beliefs, our sense of power and control over our own destiny, in addition to the sense of identity that comes with every community.
So I say: think for yourselves! Conform not to a party platform, and be individual! Vote for a party on principle and platform, and let that be determined freshly every four years. And don't let the campaign mumbo-jumbo about whose fourth cousin said a bad word in school five years ago sway you.
There are much better communities to identify with than a political party.
On Hypocrites
The mistakes people see most clearly in others are those mistakes people are most acutely aware of in their own lives. They regret making them, but cannot stop sometimes. Does it make them a hypocrite when they see someone else about to fall into the same trap and rush to warn them?
I hope not, or else no one would ever receive a warning.
On Meaning
History remembers only the greats. Which is unfortunate, because people have a psychological need to mean something.
The internet has been a blessing and a curse in that respect: it has provided more opportunities for community and to achieve something within them; but the fluid nature of online communities and the virtual nature (that is, nothing physically exists) of these communities leads to frequent dispersals, disbandings, and disillusionment.
The size of the internet and the size of the world make it a challenge to achieve something great, and often when it is achieved, it's often of only temporal importance--15 seconds of fame--and then it vanishes in the memories of all but the one who reached it.
In this culture where everything matters, therefore nothing matters, everyone is important, therefore no one is important.
Thus the communism of society depresses people in their quest for importance, leading to the high rates of suicide and disillusionment in the Western world.
"Greatness" is defined as above the surroundings. This greatness cannot exist in equality. By definition, greatness cannot be achieved by all--so clearly, the quest for greatness as a fulfillment of the search for meaning is futile. (For most, anyways.)
Where then lies the search for meaning? For most, it will end in family. To ensure the success of progeny is will provide meaning for parents who failed to reach greatness, and graciously most parents die before seeing their children repeat the process with their own children. (Or maybe they transfer the mantle from their children to their grandchildren? Because if only one of them turns out to be great, then their own life will have meant something...)
I am therefore convinced that lasting greatness and true meaning comes only from God. The greatness of a soul saved for eternity through the gospel of love does not diminish. The value of a kind act does not rot as it ages. Goodness does not require fame to be meaningful--God remembers all.
Isn't that a much better goal in life?
The true fulfillment of Christianity is service to others. Or, to eliminate the possibility of mistaken connotations, "the infusion of love towards others in every social interaction."
If the Christian faith were solely about introspective improvement and the elimination of sin within our lives, it would not, could not, turn the world upside-down. Yet we cannot separate the internal and the external, for to live with internal and external lives at variance with one another is to live in perpetual conflict.
Christianity is not about the forgiveness of guilt, for guilt is not a sin, but merely the symptom of sin. What is sin? Sin is a failure to love. Love God, or to love thy neighbour. Anything that does not fall under this category is not a sin. But what does it mean to love God?
It can be said that love is contextual. In different cultures, the requirements of love will vary greatly. For some, there is deep meaning in removing footwear prior to entering a holy place. Others may find deepest devotion to God in praising His name with uplifted hands amidst a concert with loud music and ringing ears.
It would be a mistake, however, to assume that there is no shared definition of love that crosses all bounds of culture. One such definition, in every culture I know of, is to adapt oneself to the desires and tastes of the cherished object.
God has revealed his tastes and desires in writing to us through the Bible. Through the Bible, God has given specific instructions on how to honour him--the ten commandments being one. Many people split up the ten commandments into four and six--love towards God and love towards man--but the ten commandments are actually one set of ten--love to both God and man. To not kill or commit adultery is as much honour to God as it is to other people.
In culture and our environment, we have been granted a unique and unmatched perspective on life--a lens, per se, that focuses on some depth of our world and allows us to see some objects more clearly, while others the lens blurs. We can have a pretty good idea of what we can see sharply, but as we have only one lens, who are we to say that others can see more or less clearly than ourselves?
So it is with faith. It is up to us to live our faith in the deepest and most meaningful way possible based on our culture--our perspective. It is up to us to seek out other peoples' lenses and experiences and use them to bring our own worlds into focus. It is up to us to share our own experiences to help others see more clearly. But it is not ours to judge the depth and meaning of someone else's religious experience. Only God and the follower can know the sincerity and devotion of their own faith.
What do I see in God?
I see a God who is honoured by our devotion in the little things without neglecting the larger things. When we keep the sabbath exactly from sundown to sundown, in communion with God and fellow worshippers, I believe He is honoured by our concern for His instruction. When we extend this communion in love for Him and others throughout the rest of the week, He is touched. Would a significant other act any differently?
I have found that even in the little things that God has asked us to do, for seemingly no reason that applies to us, should I challenge their value for today, God ends up proven right, be it a few days or a few years later. I find that God granted us His instruction for our own good, and not just to watch us jump hoops. I find that God granted us common sense to figure out for ourselves which of His advice applies only to specific situations, and how to take general principles from them to then guide our lives.
I choose to live my life in this manner. I do not expect others to do so, unless their culture and life experiences can make such a life meaningful to them.
The important universal thing is love, at all times, within all contexts. That is what it means to be Christian.
On Culture
Thanks to mass media, more people have knowledge of global events as they happen; thanks to education, more people are educated enough to make sense of these global events and form an opinion of them.
This trend has accelerated with the Internet, as people have learned how to educate themselves, quickly, resulting in a move from "consult the relevant expert" to "become your own expert." The trend to self-expertise has been exaggerated by the population boom in the past 200 years, where we have gone from a planet with fewer than a billion people to one approaching seven billion.
The result is where you had Beethoven, king and undisputed authority on music but 200 years ago, you now have fractured leadership atop the musical field. Expertise is diluted. The same applies to every field.
Today everyone's an expert. And that means no one is an expert. Which means... we now live in a communist society. But it's no longer a communism of class, politics, or power--it's a communism of information, opinion, and talent.
"Communism creates equality by making all men poor." But thanks to pluralism and the internet, everyone's opinion matters--meaning no one's opinion matters--because of the communism of information.
This communism isn't enforced by a police state: there are no wiretaps, no death penalties, no re-education camps to enforce this communism upon us. Rather, we enforce this communism upon ourselves, by demanding our own self-importance.
It is foolish to allow that all opinions are of equal value. Certainly in an election every vote counts--but when a friend tells you to ask someone out and another says not to, and the date ends badly, very badly, obviously one person was right and the other was wrong. Would you rather have Beethoven or your mother teaching you music?
How many Beethovens of this generation have been lost because they went unrecognized? How many Beethovens drown in the sea of our own self-importance?
By demanding equality, we destroy greatness.
On Economics
Every penny saved is someone else's debt.
Thought experiment: you have a clothes-maker, a farmer, a teacher, a priest, and a police-officer. Each one's services can be retained for one year for $10,000--the clothes-maker to provide sufficient clothing for a year, the farmer food, the teacher education, and so forth. Therefore, everyone makes $40,000 a year, and everyone spends $40,000 a year.
Now, suppose the teacher wished to double their consumption of services. The teacher now spends $80,000 per year, but still only makes $40,000 per year, so at year-end, the teacher will be $40,000 in debt. But because of the teacher's extra-spending, everyone else will have made $50,000, while still only spending $40,000; thus, at year-end, everyone else will own $10,000.
The combined savings of the four will equal $40,000, the same as the teacher's debt; therefore savings equal debt.
Now, suppose that the four were to agree to equally spend whatever money they received throughout the year. After one iteration, each spends $50,000 and makes $58,000, with the teacher's debt being reduced to $32,000; the second iteration would see spending hit $58,000, earnings hit $64,400 and the teacher's debt would drop to $27,600; this would continue until all parties reached $80,000 in spending and income, and at the moment none of the four had savings, the teacher would have no debt.
As the Earth is a closed economic system, just as the model above, it can be shown that hoarding cash puts other people in debt, and is therefore criminal. This model also shows that the sooner people spend money they earn, the healthier the economy is. (That is, the faster the next guy in the chain gets his money, the sooner he can spend it, and the sooner it returns to you.)
It is a well-known financial principle that you should only spend money you have, and should always maintain some savings for emergencies. How then can this principle be considered valid in light of this theory (as you couldn't purchase, say, a car, without saving up money for months in order to be able to afford it)?
Government debt. The government goes into debt to enable us to own cash reserves. That is, in fact, the origination of the dollar bill--by owning a dollar bill, the government said it owed you one dollar. Thus all cash balances really are someone else's debt.
As of last I heard, the US government owed $10 trillion dollars. If you split that evenly among the 300,000,000 American citizens, that comes out to a little over $30,000 per person. Thus it is morally right for people to own cash reserves up to $30,000.
But companies require cash balances too--usually much more than people. Suppose that companies require cash balances close to $8,000 per employee--enough for four bi-weekly paycheques of $2,000. Based on a guesstimate that there are 120,000 registered companies in the US, that would provide for companies to hold an average cash balance of $1,000,000. (Obviously, this number would rise or fall based on number of employees, and therefore size of company and need for such a cash balance.)
This still leaves people with $22,000 that they can hold morally as a cash balance without fear that they are putting someone else into debt or harming the economy. Though this is the amount government debt enables you to own, it still holds true that a) the faster you spend your money, the healthier the economy will be, and b) there will always be people who try to cheat the system, along the lines of the famous "Tragedy of the Commons."
So to return to the initial thought exercise: suppose one day the clothes-maker decides to double the price of clothes. Thus everyone else pays $50,000 a year to meet their needs, while earning only $40,000; the clothes-maker would earn $80,000, but spend only $40,000. Thus the clothes-maker finishes the year $40,000 in the green, and everyone else is $10,000 in the red.
But suppose the clothes-maker feels conscientious enough about his actions that he spends the entire $40,000 profit within the year on his fellow-workers, thus enabling them to avoid debt. In contrast with the first year, when all earned $40,000 and the economy was balanced, each of the four other workers would have to work harder to produce more goods to sell to the clothes-maker at the initial rate; but at least they would survive.
The clothes-maker would see his quality of life rise, who for the same amount of effort now receives more produce; everyone else's quality of life would decline, as they would work harder to maintain the same quality of life they had in the past. Note: despite earning double, the clothes-maker's quality of life would only rise 25%, as he could only afford 25% more of each good.
After a few years of working like horses to support the clothes-maker's affluence, the remaining four workers decided they had enough and double their rates as well. Thus, $80,000 in this system is worth what $40,000 was worth only a few years earlier. This is inflation.
On its own, there's nothing wrong with it, as the quality of life of each worker is the same at the beginning and the end; and it allows people to make capital purchases now that are a little beyond their means, knowing that in the future, their cash debt will decrease in value with the value of cash. The problem occurs when there are multiple competing currencies, in which case a currency whose cash value is rapidly falling may soon be unable to purchase anything from the other currencies. But so long as standard of living rises along with it, there should be no problem.
Inflation can thus be simplified as one of two things-- a) a correction in the balance of prices, as the other workers try to get fair value for their services; b) some overzealous clothes-maker who tries to get himself a better standard of living than everyone else. Granted, a and b are really one and the same thing, depending on whose viewpoint you are taking, as everyone seems to think "fair value for their services" is higher than it is right now.
Thus in the real world everyone slowly raises their own prices bit by bit, almost like a horse race. For instance, at this point in the story, the clothes-maker could decide to double his rates at the same time the four other workers "catch-up", in order to maintain his own high standards.
A good example of this working in real life would be the current economic crisis. You'll recall two summers ago that the price of gas spiked dramatically. This had the effect of the clothes-seller doubling his rates. Everyone tried to maintain their standard of living, but soon realized that this caused them to go into debt. As most places of work do not have a mechanism for the entire factory to work 10 extra hours of overtime when prices rise, the only option remaining to avoid debt was to stop spending (lower one's own standard of living). Slowing the rate of spending and holding onto one's earnings in this manner has the unfortunate effect of collapsing the market; increased debt has the consequence of defaulted loans/mortgages; and here you have the US economic collapse of 2008 in a nutshell. All because a ridiculous jump in the price of oil strained the average person's finances. (And I suspect the ridiculous profits the oil companies piled up at this time didn't get returned to the people/spent as fast as they could have.)
Disclaimer: I have never taken a class in business or economics in my life--as such, this entire section consisted of mainly my own theories. If there is an error in the above, I would appreciate a business major pointing it out to me.
On Government
A government occurs when a collective body of people join forces for mutual security and economic gain. A government is when a group of citizens forms an economic bloc to negotiate a better deal with the world and in the world. A government is when people mutually pool their resources to create and build infrastructure and systems for the mutual economic benefit of all.
People have the right to choose between varying competing governmental systems on the earth, but do not have the right to secede from government and create their own, as currently existing governments have a monopoly on all land area on the planet.
If one wishes to create a new competing government, through warring to acquire land, one assumes all the responsibilities of government, including security--and therefore should this government fail in any regard, they will be responsible for choosing that government to represent them, and are responsible for suffering any consequences of that poor choice.
Thankfully, most government find it immoral to summarily execute the citizens of a failed government.
On the other hand, most governments find it equally immoral to war over land in these modern times; and thus, should you even begin to attempt this, you can expect a coalition of 200+ nations to oppose your efforts.
On Community
The two-party system, for dummies--a child grows up, with pre-conceived ideas and opinions formed from family and education; sometime around the first election they care about/are conscious of (usually between ages 10-20), they examine which party best fits their pre-conceived ideas. Having chosen a party, they then conform the rest of their ideals (that didn't fit to begin with) to that party, and become a mental card-carrying member, if not officially. (Understand that for purposes of this argument, being Independent also qualifies as a party, a third-party in the two-party system, as many independents share a mind-set to the point they would qualify as a political party.)
This may be because of a need for community, a need to belong. It's much easier to face the world when you know that there are others out there who think like you--mental companionship. This might also be a mental process to justify casting a ballot in favour of one party or another--I voted for it, so I must believe it. Either way, it results in mindless support of one party and mindless opposition to the other throughout an election campaign.
Truth is, both parties sleep around, both parties steal public money, both parties cross the bounds of "political correctness" with ads and both parties go right up to the line the law allows them to, while as frequently as can be quietly done cross over it. But when the "other" party gets discovered, it's decried as evidence of dishonesty, poor morals, and non-concern for the law, while when one's own party messes up, it's an honest mistake. It's the same thing, people!
This same mindset to political parties can be applied to any community humans belong to. It's only in politics that communities clash with each other so frequently. When other forms of communities clash, the results are the same. Sports teams, home towns, churches, families... any time one of your own messes up, you either call it an "honest mistake" or ostracize them from your community (or leave yourself); when the arch-rival messes up, you're calling for blood and demanding justice.
Politics has this heightening sensation on community conflict, because politics deals with what is most personal to us--our core beliefs, our sense of power and control over our own destiny, in addition to the sense of identity that comes with every community.
So I say: think for yourselves! Conform not to a party platform, and be individual! Vote for a party on principle and platform, and let that be determined freshly every four years. And don't let the campaign mumbo-jumbo about whose fourth cousin said a bad word in school five years ago sway you.
There are much better communities to identify with than a political party.
On Hypocrites
The mistakes people see most clearly in others are those mistakes people are most acutely aware of in their own lives. They regret making them, but cannot stop sometimes. Does it make them a hypocrite when they see someone else about to fall into the same trap and rush to warn them?
I hope not, or else no one would ever receive a warning.
On Meaning
History remembers only the greats. Which is unfortunate, because people have a psychological need to mean something.
The internet has been a blessing and a curse in that respect: it has provided more opportunities for community and to achieve something within them; but the fluid nature of online communities and the virtual nature (that is, nothing physically exists) of these communities leads to frequent dispersals, disbandings, and disillusionment.
The size of the internet and the size of the world make it a challenge to achieve something great, and often when it is achieved, it's often of only temporal importance--15 seconds of fame--and then it vanishes in the memories of all but the one who reached it.
In this culture where everything matters, therefore nothing matters, everyone is important, therefore no one is important.
Thus the communism of society depresses people in their quest for importance, leading to the high rates of suicide and disillusionment in the Western world.
"Greatness" is defined as above the surroundings. This greatness cannot exist in equality. By definition, greatness cannot be achieved by all--so clearly, the quest for greatness as a fulfillment of the search for meaning is futile. (For most, anyways.)
Where then lies the search for meaning? For most, it will end in family. To ensure the success of progeny is will provide meaning for parents who failed to reach greatness, and graciously most parents die before seeing their children repeat the process with their own children. (Or maybe they transfer the mantle from their children to their grandchildren? Because if only one of them turns out to be great, then their own life will have meant something...)
I am therefore convinced that lasting greatness and true meaning comes only from God. The greatness of a soul saved for eternity through the gospel of love does not diminish. The value of a kind act does not rot as it ages. Goodness does not require fame to be meaningful--God remembers all.
Isn't that a much better goal in life?
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Harper's Political Savvy
The following was written in response to the ongoing political crisis in Canada right now.
To clarify—I write this as a hard-line left-winger who votes NDP every election on principle. So when I write that Harper’s latest move in Parliament just handed the Conservatives a majority in the next election, know that I am not being politically biased in saying so.
The next Canadian government—be it Harper’s Cons or Dion’s Coalition for Canada—is inheriting the single-worst financial crisis since the Great Depression. Anyone remember how the economy was fixed that time? Despite everything governing parties tried across the world, nothing they did (short of Nazis redistributing Jewish wealth and funding a military-industrial complex) put a dent into the depression—the depression ran its course and died out naturally.
Canada has so far staved off depression not by Harper’s sound financial management, but rather because of the ridiculously high prices for oil this past summer, taken with Canada’s position as a major oil-exporting nation. Readers will note the price of oil has since fallen, taking our dollar with it.
Depression is inevitable in Canada because 85% of our exports go to the US. Our economy is so intricately intertwined with the Americans that we cannot expect vastly different economic results up here, regardless of who is running our ship. We can only hope America’s leadership will resuscitate our biggest customer sooner rather than later.
Now the opposition parties are willing to take the responsibility for the depression out of Harper’s hands. Harper should be overjoyed at ridding himself of this responsibility. When (and not if) the announcement comes that Canada has officially entered recession, the governing party at that time will be tar-and-feathered; and just like R.B. Bennett nearly 80 years ago, a government will be blamed, tried and executed for something they couldn’t do anything about, nor were responsible for.
By causing the opposition to unite in a coalition—and yes, Harper’s moves were low and partisan: but in Harper’s case, the ends justify the means—he has managed to turn the next election into a two-choice race. One of the choices will have their votes split among three different parties (four, counting Greens). One of the choices will be wearing a scarlet “R” for recession. The other choice will have the easiest path to a majority government since Chretien.
Harper can now only hope his party sees this clearly enough that his political career lives to see him reap the benefits.
To clarify—I write this as a hard-line left-winger who votes NDP every election on principle. So when I write that Harper’s latest move in Parliament just handed the Conservatives a majority in the next election, know that I am not being politically biased in saying so.
The next Canadian government—be it Harper’s Cons or Dion’s Coalition for Canada—is inheriting the single-worst financial crisis since the Great Depression. Anyone remember how the economy was fixed that time? Despite everything governing parties tried across the world, nothing they did (short of Nazis redistributing Jewish wealth and funding a military-industrial complex) put a dent into the depression—the depression ran its course and died out naturally.
Canada has so far staved off depression not by Harper’s sound financial management, but rather because of the ridiculously high prices for oil this past summer, taken with Canada’s position as a major oil-exporting nation. Readers will note the price of oil has since fallen, taking our dollar with it.
Depression is inevitable in Canada because 85% of our exports go to the US. Our economy is so intricately intertwined with the Americans that we cannot expect vastly different economic results up here, regardless of who is running our ship. We can only hope America’s leadership will resuscitate our biggest customer sooner rather than later.
Now the opposition parties are willing to take the responsibility for the depression out of Harper’s hands. Harper should be overjoyed at ridding himself of this responsibility. When (and not if) the announcement comes that Canada has officially entered recession, the governing party at that time will be tar-and-feathered; and just like R.B. Bennett nearly 80 years ago, a government will be blamed, tried and executed for something they couldn’t do anything about, nor were responsible for.
By causing the opposition to unite in a coalition—and yes, Harper’s moves were low and partisan: but in Harper’s case, the ends justify the means—he has managed to turn the next election into a two-choice race. One of the choices will have their votes split among three different parties (four, counting Greens). One of the choices will be wearing a scarlet “R” for recession. The other choice will have the easiest path to a majority government since Chretien.
Harper can now only hope his party sees this clearly enough that his political career lives to see him reap the benefits.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Ottawa considers bailing out Detroit automakers
What's next? Washington bails out failing Canadian lumber companies that have operations in the US?
Wouldn't that never happen? In a billion years?
And next, I'd like to suggest that Washington extend the bailout to Chinese export companies, who are surely struggling due to the economic slowdown. If they don't get a bailout, ridiculously cheap imports from China could become less ridiculously cheap! Oh, the horror!
Wouldn't that never happen? In a billion years?
And next, I'd like to suggest that Washington extend the bailout to Chinese export companies, who are surely struggling due to the economic slowdown. If they don't get a bailout, ridiculously cheap imports from China could become less ridiculously cheap! Oh, the horror!
Monday, November 3, 2008
Walking to Walmart at 3AM
I'm hungry. I need sugar. I'm thinking one of those two pound bags of Sour Patch Kids would do fine.
Sadly, the only thing open at this hour is Wal-mart, and that's a 15 minute walk away. In the dark.
But I've been craving this all day, and I can't sleep. I'll go.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Stupid door won't close. I hope this doesn't wake my roommate up.
So I'm going to Walmart to get sugar. At 3am. Does this make me insane, hopeless, or both?
Pass by girls dorm. Make no eye contact with desk worker. In fact, maybe I ought to pick up the pace a little. Starts running. Harder for a criminal to attack a quickly moving target than a barely moving target.
Isn't it amazing the cleansing effect being outside can have on a person's soul? I mean, after you've spent three days inside, just stepping outside and breathing some fresh air while looking at the sky just reminds you that there's a whole other world out there. I heartily recommend going outside every now and then to all of you.
Whoosh! Oh, that was scary. I just ran around a corner. There could have been somewhere there. Whoosh! Oh, I just did it again. Alright, enough of the creepiness--I'm running on the road. Not like there's any cars there to stop me.
Wasn't there that music video released when I was young that depicted the band laying on the yellow line of the road as cars rushed by, then some teens tried to copy it and died? Well, I'm running on the yellow line. Difference is there's no cars.
Except that one. I think I hear a car behind me. Runs off road. Car passes. Runs back on road.
It's amazing how many stars you can see at 3 in the morning. I think it's more stars than usual. I wonder if the ancients, when they determined there were four thousand and whatever many stars in the sky, tried counting at 3 AM. I'm not just seeing Orion, I'm seeing the minor stars in between the stars of Orion, and the tiny specks between those minor stars that are surely distant stars themselves.
I believe that's the house coming up on the left where they had that drunken party that one night I passed by late. I'll give them extra room just in case.
I think I figured out why dogs act so lazy all the time. It's because they don't sleep at night, because they're busy barking at all the other dogs in the neighbourhood.
Hmmm... Andy's Market is open? But there's no cars in the parking lot. Yet all the lights are on. Don't they turn the lights off for Sabbath? Then there must be someone inside. But I don't see any cars...
Continues run-walk-run-walk all the way to Walmart. Cars pass. Slowly get accustomed to just going to the other side of the road as cars pass.
Ah, Walmart! "No Parking overnight." Clearly, that camper didn't see the sign. It's on, so maybe they're using the excuse that they're standing overnight as opposed to parking.
I don't see any cars. I wonder if I walked all this way only to discover Walmart actually closes at 3AM. I wonder if Walmart secretly closes between 1 and 6, but say they're open 24 hours because they figure no one will notice.
Oh, there are the cars. I bet the employees will outnumber me 10 to 1. I wonder if it will be like my friend's story of when Walmart employees "discreetly" followed them all around the store.
Yes, that is a Coyote howling. As I enter the store. Comforting.
No welcomer? That's understandable. Oh, wait, there is one! I think I just woke her up.
Whoa... I just felt a wave of tiredness roll over my body. Was SO not expecting that. (If I thought I was going to be tired, I'd have just stayed home and slept.)
There's more shoppers than I thought there's be. I think it's actually a 3 to 1 employee ratio.
While I'm here, I might as well get some soap. Down to my last three bars. Drug aisle, shampoo aisle, girl aisle, toothpaste aisle, girl aisle, pet food aisle... huh? Backtracks. Oh, there it is.
Oh, wait, those weren't shoppers! Those were employees dressed as shoppers! I take that earlier statement back--it actually is a 10 to 1 employee-customer ratio.
I wonder if I'll run into another customer... looks left... oh, it's some random girl wearing a Wolves sweatshirt reading while sitting on the floor. I wonder if I know her. Or would know her if it wasn't 3am. At any rate, glad to see someone RE-PRE-SENT!!!
And there's a young couple. The girl looks like she's dressed as a hooker. (Don't say that outloud.) I wonder if she's a hooker... no, why would a pimp and a hooker go shopping for groceries together? They probably just look like that accidentally. Or culturally. Whatever.
Any Hallowe'en discounts? 50% off! Nice! What do they have? Looks through... Nothing. Nothing good, anyways. Great.
Aha! Time for glory. Two pounds of Sour Patch Kids!
Well, I see they only have one aisle open. The cashier looks dead. "How many people do you get at this time of night?" "Oh, uh..." Thinks about it. A lot. "30?"
I wonder if she means 30 per hour or 30 for the whole night. Guessing by what I've seen, I'd say 30 for the whole night.
Alas, it has come time to brace the cold, insecure outside world once again. That's a fairly loud pickup driving towards me in the parking lot. Now just roll down your windows and pull out your machine guns, and I'll be some random drive-by shooting victim for the rest of my life. Pickup drives past. You didn't shoot me! I'm alive!
"Parking lot is monitored by security cameras." So that's why they didn't shoot me. Watch me get hit just after I leave the parking lot. The bridge out of Walmart is always creepy because of the long unkempt bushes on either side. But I've got chain link fence as my friend between me and the minions of darkness.
What kind of idiot robber mugs someone as they're leaving a Wal-mart? Not an intelligent one, obviously. They'd have spent all their money in the store so there'd be nothing left to steal except for what they bought. Which might occasionally work, but what if a male mugger nabs an old lady's bags, only to find that all she bought was... oh, never mind.
Car drives past. Now the car is going to turn around and kidnap me, right? Looks. Looks again. Car turns into Walmart. What were you planning on doing anyways if the car did turn around? Well, I could have... jumped up the cliffs on the right side of the road.
Walking down this road is so much like driving. Left mirror, Right mirror, Rear View Mirror, Blind Spot, Left mirror... Must keep wits about me at all times, lest someone sneaks up on me.
Is that a... sprinker? At night? Sprinkling... leaves? What a waste of water.
Gasp! That sprinker was the perfect trick. While my mind was occupied by the sprinker, another person could have easily snuck up behind me and got me. I can't let my mind focus on anything, or else I weaken my defenses.
Following the Yellow Brick road. Following the Yellow Brick road. Something, something, something in a high pitched voice I can't reproduce.
Technically, the road is made of ashphalt, not brick.
Well, if you want to get so technical, it's just yellow paint on top of black ashphalt--the ashphalt itself is not yellow.
Oh shut up.
Dear God, if you wake me up in time for Calculus tomorrow, I will... uh... there isn't a whole lot I can do for you, is there? I know, sing a hymn to you every morning.
Passes little shop with lights on. People pay so much for security now. I mean, that's the only reason for the lights, right? To make the shop visible enough for security cameras to work. Isn't the protection of property the single biggest expense, in the world?
And there's Andy's market, with the lights all on. It looks like there are two cars in the parking lot now.
Dog barks. Hmph. That was a rather loud bark. I wonder how big the dog was. Two feet tall? Three feet?
Dog barks again. Alright, whereas the last bark sounded like it was two blocks away, this one sounded one block away. They're gaining on me! Time to pick up the pace.
Unconsciously shifts to the left side of the road, or the other side from the barks. Whoa, nearly fell for that one. That would be a perfect dog trap. Bark from the right, to make the prey go left, only you were planning to attack from the left the whole time.
Stay centre of the road!
Oh, look, it's another car. I wonder if I know them. Car drives past. Nope, it's a cop car. And the cops in this town don't know you unless you own a car, so they can't possibly know me.
Is that flashing red light up ahead the railroad tracks. I should go and watch the train go by.
Adam, hello! It's barely over the horizon right now, and you think you can run to see it go by? Besides, it if actually is the railroad tracks, its a full mile beyond your house. No point in going that far.
Now if I can just pass the stop light I'll be on campus and be safe from all the College Place gangs and stuff. 100 feet away! 50 feet away! 20 feet away.
Oh, I'm sure that at 20 feet, I'm within the "aura ring" that the campus gives off, security wise.
Car goes past. Come on! Not even a dirty look about being up this late?
Well, I suppose a dirty look would be a bit much, considering that he too is on the roads at this late hour.
There's the girls dorm again. I wonder if there actually is a desk worker. Looks. There is. Do not make eye contact, do not make eye contact...
100 feet to go. 100 feet of off-campus, then I'm home. Leaves on ground make loud rustling. Shush! I must remain silent. If they can't hear me, they won't see me for as long as possible, and seeing is observing, observing is thinking, and thinking is temptation, meaning stealth is my friend. And I'm wearing these loud squeak-squeak shoes.
20 feet to go. Almost home. I bet the thief is just waiting for me to walk up the walkway so he knows which house my keys are for.
Okay, at the door now. Just get inside, get inside where it's safe... there! Locks door, deadbolt.
I'm alive!!! I'm alive!!!
It's amazing how precious life seems after coming so close to losing it right there. It's amazing all those people somehow withstood the temptation of randomly shooting, kidnapping, or robbing me. I live again!!!
That was enough adventures for one week. I'd better go hide in a hole for a few days.
Sadly, the only thing open at this hour is Wal-mart, and that's a 15 minute walk away. In the dark.
But I've been craving this all day, and I can't sleep. I'll go.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Stupid door won't close. I hope this doesn't wake my roommate up.
So I'm going to Walmart to get sugar. At 3am. Does this make me insane, hopeless, or both?
Pass by girls dorm. Make no eye contact with desk worker. In fact, maybe I ought to pick up the pace a little. Starts running. Harder for a criminal to attack a quickly moving target than a barely moving target.
Isn't it amazing the cleansing effect being outside can have on a person's soul? I mean, after you've spent three days inside, just stepping outside and breathing some fresh air while looking at the sky just reminds you that there's a whole other world out there. I heartily recommend going outside every now and then to all of you.
Whoosh! Oh, that was scary. I just ran around a corner. There could have been somewhere there. Whoosh! Oh, I just did it again. Alright, enough of the creepiness--I'm running on the road. Not like there's any cars there to stop me.
Wasn't there that music video released when I was young that depicted the band laying on the yellow line of the road as cars rushed by, then some teens tried to copy it and died? Well, I'm running on the yellow line. Difference is there's no cars.
Except that one. I think I hear a car behind me. Runs off road. Car passes. Runs back on road.
It's amazing how many stars you can see at 3 in the morning. I think it's more stars than usual. I wonder if the ancients, when they determined there were four thousand and whatever many stars in the sky, tried counting at 3 AM. I'm not just seeing Orion, I'm seeing the minor stars in between the stars of Orion, and the tiny specks between those minor stars that are surely distant stars themselves.
I believe that's the house coming up on the left where they had that drunken party that one night I passed by late. I'll give them extra room just in case.
I think I figured out why dogs act so lazy all the time. It's because they don't sleep at night, because they're busy barking at all the other dogs in the neighbourhood.
Hmmm... Andy's Market is open? But there's no cars in the parking lot. Yet all the lights are on. Don't they turn the lights off for Sabbath? Then there must be someone inside. But I don't see any cars...
Continues run-walk-run-walk all the way to Walmart. Cars pass. Slowly get accustomed to just going to the other side of the road as cars pass.
Ah, Walmart! "No Parking overnight." Clearly, that camper didn't see the sign. It's on, so maybe they're using the excuse that they're standing overnight as opposed to parking.
I don't see any cars. I wonder if I walked all this way only to discover Walmart actually closes at 3AM. I wonder if Walmart secretly closes between 1 and 6, but say they're open 24 hours because they figure no one will notice.
Oh, there are the cars. I bet the employees will outnumber me 10 to 1. I wonder if it will be like my friend's story of when Walmart employees "discreetly" followed them all around the store.
Yes, that is a Coyote howling. As I enter the store. Comforting.
No welcomer? That's understandable. Oh, wait, there is one! I think I just woke her up.
Whoa... I just felt a wave of tiredness roll over my body. Was SO not expecting that. (If I thought I was going to be tired, I'd have just stayed home and slept.)
There's more shoppers than I thought there's be. I think it's actually a 3 to 1 employee ratio.
While I'm here, I might as well get some soap. Down to my last three bars. Drug aisle, shampoo aisle, girl aisle, toothpaste aisle, girl aisle, pet food aisle... huh? Backtracks. Oh, there it is.
Oh, wait, those weren't shoppers! Those were employees dressed as shoppers! I take that earlier statement back--it actually is a 10 to 1 employee-customer ratio.
I wonder if I'll run into another customer... looks left... oh, it's some random girl wearing a Wolves sweatshirt reading while sitting on the floor. I wonder if I know her. Or would know her if it wasn't 3am. At any rate, glad to see someone RE-PRE-SENT!!!
And there's a young couple. The girl looks like she's dressed as a hooker. (Don't say that outloud.) I wonder if she's a hooker... no, why would a pimp and a hooker go shopping for groceries together? They probably just look like that accidentally. Or culturally. Whatever.
Any Hallowe'en discounts? 50% off! Nice! What do they have? Looks through... Nothing. Nothing good, anyways. Great.
Aha! Time for glory. Two pounds of Sour Patch Kids!
Well, I see they only have one aisle open. The cashier looks dead. "How many people do you get at this time of night?" "Oh, uh..." Thinks about it. A lot. "30?"
I wonder if she means 30 per hour or 30 for the whole night. Guessing by what I've seen, I'd say 30 for the whole night.
Alas, it has come time to brace the cold, insecure outside world once again. That's a fairly loud pickup driving towards me in the parking lot. Now just roll down your windows and pull out your machine guns, and I'll be some random drive-by shooting victim for the rest of my life. Pickup drives past. You didn't shoot me! I'm alive!
"Parking lot is monitored by security cameras." So that's why they didn't shoot me. Watch me get hit just after I leave the parking lot. The bridge out of Walmart is always creepy because of the long unkempt bushes on either side. But I've got chain link fence as my friend between me and the minions of darkness.
What kind of idiot robber mugs someone as they're leaving a Wal-mart? Not an intelligent one, obviously. They'd have spent all their money in the store so there'd be nothing left to steal except for what they bought. Which might occasionally work, but what if a male mugger nabs an old lady's bags, only to find that all she bought was... oh, never mind.
Car drives past. Now the car is going to turn around and kidnap me, right? Looks. Looks again. Car turns into Walmart. What were you planning on doing anyways if the car did turn around? Well, I could have... jumped up the cliffs on the right side of the road.
Walking down this road is so much like driving. Left mirror, Right mirror, Rear View Mirror, Blind Spot, Left mirror... Must keep wits about me at all times, lest someone sneaks up on me.
Is that a... sprinker? At night? Sprinkling... leaves? What a waste of water.
Gasp! That sprinker was the perfect trick. While my mind was occupied by the sprinker, another person could have easily snuck up behind me and got me. I can't let my mind focus on anything, or else I weaken my defenses.
Following the Yellow Brick road. Following the Yellow Brick road. Something, something, something in a high pitched voice I can't reproduce.
Technically, the road is made of ashphalt, not brick.
Well, if you want to get so technical, it's just yellow paint on top of black ashphalt--the ashphalt itself is not yellow.
Oh shut up.
Dear God, if you wake me up in time for Calculus tomorrow, I will... uh... there isn't a whole lot I can do for you, is there? I know, sing a hymn to you every morning.
Passes little shop with lights on. People pay so much for security now. I mean, that's the only reason for the lights, right? To make the shop visible enough for security cameras to work. Isn't the protection of property the single biggest expense, in the world?
And there's Andy's market, with the lights all on. It looks like there are two cars in the parking lot now.
Dog barks. Hmph. That was a rather loud bark. I wonder how big the dog was. Two feet tall? Three feet?
Dog barks again. Alright, whereas the last bark sounded like it was two blocks away, this one sounded one block away. They're gaining on me! Time to pick up the pace.
Unconsciously shifts to the left side of the road, or the other side from the barks. Whoa, nearly fell for that one. That would be a perfect dog trap. Bark from the right, to make the prey go left, only you were planning to attack from the left the whole time.
Stay centre of the road!
Oh, look, it's another car. I wonder if I know them. Car drives past. Nope, it's a cop car. And the cops in this town don't know you unless you own a car, so they can't possibly know me.
Is that flashing red light up ahead the railroad tracks. I should go and watch the train go by.
Adam, hello! It's barely over the horizon right now, and you think you can run to see it go by? Besides, it if actually is the railroad tracks, its a full mile beyond your house. No point in going that far.
Now if I can just pass the stop light I'll be on campus and be safe from all the College Place gangs and stuff. 100 feet away! 50 feet away! 20 feet away.
Oh, I'm sure that at 20 feet, I'm within the "aura ring" that the campus gives off, security wise.
Car goes past. Come on! Not even a dirty look about being up this late?
Well, I suppose a dirty look would be a bit much, considering that he too is on the roads at this late hour.
There's the girls dorm again. I wonder if there actually is a desk worker. Looks. There is. Do not make eye contact, do not make eye contact...
100 feet to go. 100 feet of off-campus, then I'm home. Leaves on ground make loud rustling. Shush! I must remain silent. If they can't hear me, they won't see me for as long as possible, and seeing is observing, observing is thinking, and thinking is temptation, meaning stealth is my friend. And I'm wearing these loud squeak-squeak shoes.
20 feet to go. Almost home. I bet the thief is just waiting for me to walk up the walkway so he knows which house my keys are for.
Okay, at the door now. Just get inside, get inside where it's safe... there! Locks door, deadbolt.
I'm alive!!! I'm alive!!!
It's amazing how precious life seems after coming so close to losing it right there. It's amazing all those people somehow withstood the temptation of randomly shooting, kidnapping, or robbing me. I live again!!!
That was enough adventures for one week. I'd better go hide in a hole for a few days.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Election Venting
I don't want to start a political debate here, but I have to vent.
It sickens me how people have acted in this campaign.
At the beginning of the campaign, people picked, or already had picked, a party. Then, for the duration of the election, they viewed all events through the eyes of said party and reacted to the event along party lines. No one is thinking for themselves.
It's like the millions of dollars spent campaigning are garbage, because just about everyone made their choice within the first week.
It's like bothering to write an election platform is garbage, because if the liberals and conservatives switched platforms tomorrow no one would budge an inch from their choices. (Well, okay, maybe 10 people.)
I dare say that if the Conservatives/Liberals/NDP went out and murdered an opposition candidate, it wouldn't change too many people's votes.
People ought to vote based on what the candidates pledge to do, and in the case of incumbents, what they actually do. But maybe that's wishful thinking.
To prove my point, I'm asking everyone here if a) they're going to vote, and b) if they are (or even if they aren't), if they bothered to read the platforms of the parties before making their choice.
As I said earlier, I'm not here to get into a political argument. I just want to know if the election is really going as bad in the knowledge department as it looks to me.
It sickens me how people have acted in this campaign.
At the beginning of the campaign, people picked, or already had picked, a party. Then, for the duration of the election, they viewed all events through the eyes of said party and reacted to the event along party lines. No one is thinking for themselves.
It's like the millions of dollars spent campaigning are garbage, because just about everyone made their choice within the first week.
It's like bothering to write an election platform is garbage, because if the liberals and conservatives switched platforms tomorrow no one would budge an inch from their choices. (Well, okay, maybe 10 people.)
I dare say that if the Conservatives/Liberals/NDP went out and murdered an opposition candidate, it wouldn't change too many people's votes.
People ought to vote based on what the candidates pledge to do, and in the case of incumbents, what they actually do. But maybe that's wishful thinking.
To prove my point, I'm asking everyone here if a) they're going to vote, and b) if they are (or even if they aren't), if they bothered to read the platforms of the parties before making their choice.
As I said earlier, I'm not here to get into a political argument. I just want to know if the election is really going as bad in the knowledge department as it looks to me.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Men and Cleanliness
Anyone ever notice the impact that getting a girlfriend has on a man's sense of cleanliness?
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Why I Hate Chicago, part 32
So I flew back to Walla Walla this past Sunday.
I got up at 4am to leave for the airport, for my 6:30am flight that would take me to Chicago, where I was to catch an 8:50am flight to Seattle. I would get to Seattle around noon-ish, and take a city bus to downtown Seattle, where I would catch a Greyhound to Walla Walla, which left at 6pm. If, for some unforeseen circumstance I didn't make that bus, I could still catch an 8:50pm bus. Either way, I'd make it back to College Place in time for work Monday afternoon.
I got on the flight to Chicago okay. I was sitting in the back of the aircraft, where I was surrounded by about 3-4 retired aircraft stewardesses, who had just gone to some convention together. They traded stories, and I listened without trying to look like I was eavesdropping.
We started our descent into Chicago. I watched the cloud cover slowly rise up to the aircraft; then, in that glorious moment when the airplane breaks through the clouds and the city spreads out before you, I didn't see a city--I saw the ground, 50 feet below.
Even then, I wasn't worried. At least, until I heard the engine roar back to life and watched the flaps on the airplane return to their usual position, as the aircraft quickly regained altitude. The pilot then announced that the fog had taken air traffic control by surprise; FAA regulations state that cloud cover must be at least 70 feet above the ground; and as such, the flight had been redirected to Milwaukee.
We waited on the tarmac in Milwaukee--a perfectly sunny day, by the way. We waited for an hour before the captain announced that the fog had lifted, and as soon as the plane was refueled and air traffic control had given the okay, we would be able to get to Chicago. By now it was 8:30am. I wasn't too worried about missing my connection, because during our layover in Milwaukee, every flight in and out of the airport had been delayed. Surely my flight was delayed as well.
After another hour, the captain announced that she was still waiting for air traffic control to give her clearance to take off. After another hour, the captain announced that she was still waiting for air traffic control to let her take off. After yet another hour, we were finally granted permission to take off--and now it was nearly noon. All this time, we sat on the tarmac, waiting. I wished I'd packed a book in my carry-on.
After landing in Chicago, we discovered our gate was occupied, and was thus forced to wait another 15 minutes before getting to the terminal. It was now about 12:30. We were told to go to the gate where the next flight going to our destination city would be taking off, as we had obviously missed our connections. After navigating the terminal for 20 minutes--apparently, though Alaska Airlines to Seattle is a codeshare with American Airlines, they are not American Airlines so I couldn't get on the flight--I found the Seattle flight, leaving at 3:30pm.
I waited at the customer help desk for 15 minutes while the guy at the desk did his thing. A guy in a business suit skipped the line that had formed behind me and went to the deskman, who helped him immediately.
I told him my tale of adventure so far. He told me that for some unknown reason, I had been rebooked through St. Louis. This was curious, because the St. Louis flight left at 3:50pm, and would get to Seattle fairly late at night--it would be pushing my 8:50pm deadline. I told him that if I didn't make it to Seattle in time, I would miss a day of work, hinting that I needed to be on that flight, and if I wasn't I might hold American Airlines responsible for negligence. He offered me a standby for the Seattle flight.
I was passenger number four on the standby list out of 24 people waiting. One of us made it onto the flight.
So, I went to the St. Louis desk, where I discovered that the St. Louis flight was delayed one hour. It eventually took off well past five. At this point, I was just grateful to get out of Chicago.
When I landed at St. Louis I walked right on to the plane to Seattle. I may have been the last passenger to board. Perhaps they had held the plane for my flight. At any rate, we landed in Seattle at 9pm. Ironically, my baggage had made it to Seattle on the direct flight I had been bumped from.
I left the airport and found a city bus going downtown had just pulled in to the terminal. I got on wielding my four bags. We're talking a rolling duffle bag (for lack of a better term), one of those roller things that everyone (especially pilots) has, a backpack and a briefcase. I sat down at the very front of the bus, because it was one of few seats that remained, and because if I didn't sit down, I'd have blocked the entire aisle. As it was I only blocked half the aisle. I was pleased that only a few people had to turn to make it around me. I held my large black bag on it's end the whole trip.
After this, I walked through Seattle streets, now at 10pm, dragging my bags in the now light rain that was falling. A few people, either drunk or just angry passed by as I tried to make myself as unseen as possible. At least, as unseen as a guy dragging four bags through a city core can be.
Once I got to the station, the bad news was confirmed: I had indeed missed the bus, and the next bus would leave at 9 the next morning, arriving at Walla Walla at 4:30pm, which would result in me missing work.
I stored my bags in the station, then went back into the streets to go to the hostel near the station that I always sleep at. Once I got there, I was told that there were no vacancies. However, there was a hotel they referred me to downtown that was beyond my price range.
I returned to sleep in the station.
The station had these wonderful metal grate seats, with armrests. Not bad if you're sitting, but terrible if you're trying to sleep. I alternated between weaving my body in and out of the armrests and curling up in the fetal position all night long. I was one of five. Unlike two/three of the others, I felt the floor was too dirty to sleep on. Had you seen it, I'm sure you would have agreed with me.
The rest of the trip went smoothly. Greyhound left on time. Greyhound apparently transfers onto the Grapevine now at Pasco, where a Greyhound ticket will suffice as fare. They dropped me off at the College Place station, which is by the railroad tracks. I walked the last few streets before a friend picked me up around the girls dorm and drove me the last two blocks home. I really, really enjoyed the relief my shoulders and back experienced. I think my collarbones had bone bruises from the backpack straps.
Oh, and American Airlines gave me no compensation for this. For missing a day of work. Neither did they offer me a hotel in Seattle. Thanks so much. I hope my reader feedback that this blog represents can be considered ample compensation.
I got up at 4am to leave for the airport, for my 6:30am flight that would take me to Chicago, where I was to catch an 8:50am flight to Seattle. I would get to Seattle around noon-ish, and take a city bus to downtown Seattle, where I would catch a Greyhound to Walla Walla, which left at 6pm. If, for some unforeseen circumstance I didn't make that bus, I could still catch an 8:50pm bus. Either way, I'd make it back to College Place in time for work Monday afternoon.
I got on the flight to Chicago okay. I was sitting in the back of the aircraft, where I was surrounded by about 3-4 retired aircraft stewardesses, who had just gone to some convention together. They traded stories, and I listened without trying to look like I was eavesdropping.
We started our descent into Chicago. I watched the cloud cover slowly rise up to the aircraft; then, in that glorious moment when the airplane breaks through the clouds and the city spreads out before you, I didn't see a city--I saw the ground, 50 feet below.
Even then, I wasn't worried. At least, until I heard the engine roar back to life and watched the flaps on the airplane return to their usual position, as the aircraft quickly regained altitude. The pilot then announced that the fog had taken air traffic control by surprise; FAA regulations state that cloud cover must be at least 70 feet above the ground; and as such, the flight had been redirected to Milwaukee.
We waited on the tarmac in Milwaukee--a perfectly sunny day, by the way. We waited for an hour before the captain announced that the fog had lifted, and as soon as the plane was refueled and air traffic control had given the okay, we would be able to get to Chicago. By now it was 8:30am. I wasn't too worried about missing my connection, because during our layover in Milwaukee, every flight in and out of the airport had been delayed. Surely my flight was delayed as well.
After another hour, the captain announced that she was still waiting for air traffic control to give her clearance to take off. After another hour, the captain announced that she was still waiting for air traffic control to let her take off. After yet another hour, we were finally granted permission to take off--and now it was nearly noon. All this time, we sat on the tarmac, waiting. I wished I'd packed a book in my carry-on.
After landing in Chicago, we discovered our gate was occupied, and was thus forced to wait another 15 minutes before getting to the terminal. It was now about 12:30. We were told to go to the gate where the next flight going to our destination city would be taking off, as we had obviously missed our connections. After navigating the terminal for 20 minutes--apparently, though Alaska Airlines to Seattle is a codeshare with American Airlines, they are not American Airlines so I couldn't get on the flight--I found the Seattle flight, leaving at 3:30pm.
I waited at the customer help desk for 15 minutes while the guy at the desk did his thing. A guy in a business suit skipped the line that had formed behind me and went to the deskman, who helped him immediately.
I told him my tale of adventure so far. He told me that for some unknown reason, I had been rebooked through St. Louis. This was curious, because the St. Louis flight left at 3:50pm, and would get to Seattle fairly late at night--it would be pushing my 8:50pm deadline. I told him that if I didn't make it to Seattle in time, I would miss a day of work, hinting that I needed to be on that flight, and if I wasn't I might hold American Airlines responsible for negligence. He offered me a standby for the Seattle flight.
I was passenger number four on the standby list out of 24 people waiting. One of us made it onto the flight.
So, I went to the St. Louis desk, where I discovered that the St. Louis flight was delayed one hour. It eventually took off well past five. At this point, I was just grateful to get out of Chicago.
When I landed at St. Louis I walked right on to the plane to Seattle. I may have been the last passenger to board. Perhaps they had held the plane for my flight. At any rate, we landed in Seattle at 9pm. Ironically, my baggage had made it to Seattle on the direct flight I had been bumped from.
I left the airport and found a city bus going downtown had just pulled in to the terminal. I got on wielding my four bags. We're talking a rolling duffle bag (for lack of a better term), one of those roller things that everyone (especially pilots) has, a backpack and a briefcase. I sat down at the very front of the bus, because it was one of few seats that remained, and because if I didn't sit down, I'd have blocked the entire aisle. As it was I only blocked half the aisle. I was pleased that only a few people had to turn to make it around me. I held my large black bag on it's end the whole trip.
After this, I walked through Seattle streets, now at 10pm, dragging my bags in the now light rain that was falling. A few people, either drunk or just angry passed by as I tried to make myself as unseen as possible. At least, as unseen as a guy dragging four bags through a city core can be.
Once I got to the station, the bad news was confirmed: I had indeed missed the bus, and the next bus would leave at 9 the next morning, arriving at Walla Walla at 4:30pm, which would result in me missing work.
I stored my bags in the station, then went back into the streets to go to the hostel near the station that I always sleep at. Once I got there, I was told that there were no vacancies. However, there was a hotel they referred me to downtown that was beyond my price range.
I returned to sleep in the station.
The station had these wonderful metal grate seats, with armrests. Not bad if you're sitting, but terrible if you're trying to sleep. I alternated between weaving my body in and out of the armrests and curling up in the fetal position all night long. I was one of five. Unlike two/three of the others, I felt the floor was too dirty to sleep on. Had you seen it, I'm sure you would have agreed with me.
The rest of the trip went smoothly. Greyhound left on time. Greyhound apparently transfers onto the Grapevine now at Pasco, where a Greyhound ticket will suffice as fare. They dropped me off at the College Place station, which is by the railroad tracks. I walked the last few streets before a friend picked me up around the girls dorm and drove me the last two blocks home. I really, really enjoyed the relief my shoulders and back experienced. I think my collarbones had bone bruises from the backpack straps.
Oh, and American Airlines gave me no compensation for this. For missing a day of work. Neither did they offer me a hotel in Seattle. Thanks so much. I hope my reader feedback that this blog represents can be considered ample compensation.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
9/11 Thoughts
They say you always remember where you were when something big happens. I was in my high school chemistry class, in Canada where I grew up. It was 10AM eastern. Someone said that a plane crashed into the Twin Towers. I wasn't the slightest bit astonished--I said that planes crash into New York buildings all the time, and cited the time a small aircraft flew into the Empire State building on a foggy day. Then they said that both of the towers were hit, and I didn't believe them at first, because flying an aircraft intentionally into a building just didn't compute. I granted that maybe a building fell because it was a big airplane, but I wasn't too worried.
They brought a TV into the school cafeteria for lunch. There was no cable/antenna, so the image was really, really grainy, but for the first time I got the idea that something really really bad had happened. The US history teacher completely ignored the lesson plan for the day and talked about the history of why Arabs hate Americans, going back to 1948 and the historical claims of the Arabs and Israel to the same piece of land.
Later that night, my Dad went to Future Shop to buy a TV. We spent an hour in the store just watching the clear images for the first time. 9/11 was enough to get my Dad to back off the vow to keep the evil influence of television out of the house. He talked about the world coming to an end.
I read about prophecies that predicted 9/11 in the coming weeks. EGW was very convincing. I still think that the greatest miracle of 9/11 was that so few people were killed. Repeat 9/11 a thousand times, and I tell you that 3,000 dead would be on the low end of the scale.
========
I was driving to visit my grandparents last weekend. My cousin was getting married. It was maybe 9pm at night. I was surprised to see every bridge we passed lined with people waving Canadian flags and emergency vehicles, sirens flashing, police officers, firefighters, and paramedics standing at attention. Apparently, the bodies of three Canadian soldiers who died in Afghanistan were returning home that night. We must have been driving down the freeway five minutes in front of the motorcade. They were travelling from the military base in Trenton to the coroner's office in Toronto. I couldn't believe how many people were on the bridges, just to honour the soldiers. Some bridges had 200, some had 30. In all cases, the people were there, ready to salute the passing soldiers.
They brought a TV into the school cafeteria for lunch. There was no cable/antenna, so the image was really, really grainy, but for the first time I got the idea that something really really bad had happened. The US history teacher completely ignored the lesson plan for the day and talked about the history of why Arabs hate Americans, going back to 1948 and the historical claims of the Arabs and Israel to the same piece of land.
Later that night, my Dad went to Future Shop to buy a TV. We spent an hour in the store just watching the clear images for the first time. 9/11 was enough to get my Dad to back off the vow to keep the evil influence of television out of the house. He talked about the world coming to an end.
I read about prophecies that predicted 9/11 in the coming weeks. EGW was very convincing. I still think that the greatest miracle of 9/11 was that so few people were killed. Repeat 9/11 a thousand times, and I tell you that 3,000 dead would be on the low end of the scale.
========
I was driving to visit my grandparents last weekend. My cousin was getting married. It was maybe 9pm at night. I was surprised to see every bridge we passed lined with people waving Canadian flags and emergency vehicles, sirens flashing, police officers, firefighters, and paramedics standing at attention. Apparently, the bodies of three Canadian soldiers who died in Afghanistan were returning home that night. We must have been driving down the freeway five minutes in front of the motorcade. They were travelling from the military base in Trenton to the coroner's office in Toronto. I couldn't believe how many people were on the bridges, just to honour the soldiers. Some bridges had 200, some had 30. In all cases, the people were there, ready to salute the passing soldiers.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Car Insurance
There's something wrong with the world when some people pay $6000 a year in auto insurance for a car that's only worth $7000.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Everyone's an Idol
Why does everyone need someone to believe in? A hero to worship?
Why do you think superhero movies are so popular? Fans aren't worshipping the superpowers--they're worshipping the actions.
People for some reason require someone to idolize, a person that symbolizes their idea of the concept of "right." If that person fails, we find a different person who is right embodied, or we change our concept of right.
I could go rambling on, but I've said everything I want to say.
Why do you think superhero movies are so popular? Fans aren't worshipping the superpowers--they're worshipping the actions.
People for some reason require someone to idolize, a person that symbolizes their idea of the concept of "right." If that person fails, we find a different person who is right embodied, or we change our concept of right.
I could go rambling on, but I've said everything I want to say.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Excerpts from Traffic Accident Reports
Consider this a bonus for those people who actually read this blog. (Is there anyone at all who does? Anyone?)
As usual, all spelling mistakes are preserved from the original reports.
+ [How to start off on the right foot--a malapropism in the first sentence]
"When I acrossed the intersection of W_____ & K_____ ..."
+ "We stopped on the side of the road and he stopped too and got off the car screaming and shouting at us calling us "terrorists" and shouting that this was our fault. We felt quite shocked by this acquisation and called 911 immediately at around 5:08..." [You'd think this kind of stuff wouldn't happen in Canada. Btw, I never figured out why it got the name 9/11 instead of 911. I would have thought 911 would have been so much more appropriate.]
+ [complete report]
[you know how sometimes you can tell how old the driver is by their language?]
"Was driving and saw break lights so I breaked
realized I had to break way faster
braked hard and slid into other vehicle"
+[two stories]
-"Both vehicles making right hand turn at L____ & H_____. Car in front starts to turn with no traffic coming then I look to make my turn and proceed, he steps on his brakes for no reason & I hit his bumper. I get out of my car and call him an idiot and he starts to swear at me [what did you think was going to happen?] so I got a little angry. I pull my car in front of tow truck which had stoped and he pulled away and came to police station and so did I. I do not think he should have a license to drive!!" [that last sentence really had me taking this guy seriously. sic]
-"Approx time 12:45pmI was proceeding northbound on L______ Rd (P_____) signalling to make a right turn onto Kingston going east. I stopped at the stop sign (lights) then proeeded about 1 1/2 metres out and stopped again as there were oncoming vehicles from west to east in the lane I was turning into. It was in my 2nd stop that the other vehicle rear-ended me, shifting (moving forward) my car about 2 metres to the front and onto the right lane of the eastbound traffic on K____ Rd. The other driver came out aggressively swearing and firing punches at me. I asked him for his license and insurance information. He refused to give any information and drove hastily away. He showed up at this police station shortly after me and continued his raging and name-calling. He had to be spoken to by staff Sgt. C_____ to discontinue his behaviour." [in a story like this, who is telling the truth? Personally, I think they're both telling the truth about the other person but not about themselves.]
+[the driver's account of the auto shop incident] "I bought 4 new tires at A_____ [auto shop] at the P______ Centre on Thurs ____. Picked up the car at 8:00pm. I drove out of the mall on Glenanna exit and went north to K_____ road. Aprox 100 metres later the car dropped and started screeching. The back driver tire was gone and the bumper was crushed. A couple accross the street in the mall parking lot brough me my wheel and informed me the wheel had hit a van in the parking lot. We then saw a woman getting into the van and the couple ran back accross to inform her what happened. She drove up behind me took my information and left before I could take hers. She had a small dent in the door of the van. My wife in her car went to A____ told them what happened and the sent for a tow truck (C____ #73). He found a few of the lugnuts on the road, put the tire back on and towed it to A_____ in the P_____ Mall. In the morning R_____ had it picked up, towed to the collision reporting centre, then to R______ Auto Body."
As usual, all spelling mistakes are preserved from the original reports.
+ [How to start off on the right foot--a malapropism in the first sentence]
"When I acrossed the intersection of W_____ & K_____ ..."
+ "We stopped on the side of the road and he stopped too and got off the car screaming and shouting at us calling us "terrorists" and shouting that this was our fault. We felt quite shocked by this acquisation and called 911 immediately at around 5:08..." [You'd think this kind of stuff wouldn't happen in Canada. Btw, I never figured out why it got the name 9/11 instead of 911. I would have thought 911 would have been so much more appropriate.]
+ [complete report]
[you know how sometimes you can tell how old the driver is by their language?]
"Was driving and saw break lights so I breaked
realized I had to break way faster
braked hard and slid into other vehicle"
+[two stories]
-"Both vehicles making right hand turn at L____ & H_____. Car in front starts to turn with no traffic coming then I look to make my turn and proceed, he steps on his brakes for no reason & I hit his bumper. I get out of my car and call him an idiot and he starts to swear at me [what did you think was going to happen?] so I got a little angry. I pull my car in front of tow truck which had stoped and he pulled away and came to police station and so did I. I do not think he should have a license to drive!!" [that last sentence really had me taking this guy seriously. sic]
-"Approx time 12:45pmI was proceeding northbound on L______ Rd (P_____) signalling to make a right turn onto Kingston going east. I stopped at the stop sign (lights) then proeeded about 1 1/2 metres out and stopped again as there were oncoming vehicles from west to east in the lane I was turning into. It was in my 2nd stop that the other vehicle rear-ended me, shifting (moving forward) my car about 2 metres to the front and onto the right lane of the eastbound traffic on K____ Rd. The other driver came out aggressively swearing and firing punches at me. I asked him for his license and insurance information. He refused to give any information and drove hastily away. He showed up at this police station shortly after me and continued his raging and name-calling. He had to be spoken to by staff Sgt. C_____ to discontinue his behaviour." [in a story like this, who is telling the truth? Personally, I think they're both telling the truth about the other person but not about themselves.]
+[the driver's account of the auto shop incident] "I bought 4 new tires at A_____ [auto shop] at the P______ Centre on Thurs ____. Picked up the car at 8:00pm. I drove out of the mall on Glenanna exit and went north to K_____ road. Aprox 100 metres later the car dropped and started screeching. The back driver tire was gone and the bumper was crushed. A couple accross the street in the mall parking lot brough me my wheel and informed me the wheel had hit a van in the parking lot. We then saw a woman getting into the van and the couple ran back accross to inform her what happened. She drove up behind me took my information and left before I could take hers. She had a small dent in the door of the van. My wife in her car went to A____ told them what happened and the sent for a tow truck (C____ #73). He found a few of the lugnuts on the road, put the tire back on and towed it to A_____ in the P_____ Mall. In the morning R_____ had it picked up, towed to the collision reporting centre, then to R______ Auto Body."
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Work Thoughts
Anyone ever notice how much faster work goes when you're actually working?
Instead of thinking of all the things you could be doing instead of working, you're actually focused on something, and that makes time go by so much faster.
I wonder if young people would actually work if they were given responsibilities instead of tasks. When you're told to vacuum a room, you're counting off the time until you can be free from work. When you're told it's your responsibility that the room is clean, suddenly you take a personal interest in whether or not the room is clean, as opposed to an interest in looking like you're working for the duration of the hour that the job is supposed to take.
And what's with the excuses everyone gives for not working, and that they're commonly accepted excuses? Here are quite possibly the five most used excuses for poor work performance:
"It's Monday."
"It's Friday."
"It's Wednesday."
"It's Thursday."
"It's Tuesday."
I mean, really, what is that? There is no good day of the week to work. Just do it, or if you're fine with just appearing like you're working while getting paid by the hour, fine. The world would be a better place if people were paid by the volume of work accomplished, as opposed to by the hour. Either that, or, if it's a responsibility type job, like making sure all the traffic signals are operational in one city, just get a salary and work when you're needed instead of sitting at an office all day waiting to be needed.
I must admit to zoning out while staring at a monitor for up to 15 minutes at a time (in my defense, it's usually only 5 minutes). Thus, I've discovered for the first time in my life a use for chewing gum--it keeps you awake. I'm sorry, Mr. Bayer, if this means that my stomach is digesting without end--it's a small price to pay for putting in a half decent work performance.
And for one last thought, why does everyone dream of being rich, when it is impossible for that dream to be true for everyone? You cannot have a rich person without a poor person. (Thus, the critics state that communism brings equality by making everyone poor.) On that note, why are we trying to abolish global poverty? The only way to do that is to get rid of rich people.
So many questions. If you keep asking questions of a wall, it will eventually start answering them.
Instead of thinking of all the things you could be doing instead of working, you're actually focused on something, and that makes time go by so much faster.
I wonder if young people would actually work if they were given responsibilities instead of tasks. When you're told to vacuum a room, you're counting off the time until you can be free from work. When you're told it's your responsibility that the room is clean, suddenly you take a personal interest in whether or not the room is clean, as opposed to an interest in looking like you're working for the duration of the hour that the job is supposed to take.
And what's with the excuses everyone gives for not working, and that they're commonly accepted excuses? Here are quite possibly the five most used excuses for poor work performance:
"It's Monday."
"It's Friday."
"It's Wednesday."
"It's Thursday."
"It's Tuesday."
I mean, really, what is that? There is no good day of the week to work. Just do it, or if you're fine with just appearing like you're working while getting paid by the hour, fine. The world would be a better place if people were paid by the volume of work accomplished, as opposed to by the hour. Either that, or, if it's a responsibility type job, like making sure all the traffic signals are operational in one city, just get a salary and work when you're needed instead of sitting at an office all day waiting to be needed.
I must admit to zoning out while staring at a monitor for up to 15 minutes at a time (in my defense, it's usually only 5 minutes). Thus, I've discovered for the first time in my life a use for chewing gum--it keeps you awake. I'm sorry, Mr. Bayer, if this means that my stomach is digesting without end--it's a small price to pay for putting in a half decent work performance.
And for one last thought, why does everyone dream of being rich, when it is impossible for that dream to be true for everyone? You cannot have a rich person without a poor person. (Thus, the critics state that communism brings equality by making everyone poor.) On that note, why are we trying to abolish global poverty? The only way to do that is to get rid of rich people.
So many questions. If you keep asking questions of a wall, it will eventually start answering them.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
What to do if you get into an Accident
Before the Accident
Always carry a pen and paper in your car. (The glovebox is a good place.)
Have insurance, and carry it with you like you carry your license. Also, keep it up to date. Many drivers will accuse you of being at fault if your insurance papers are expired. It's an accusation that doesn't work unless you no longer have insurance, but it's still nice to avoid the accusation.
During the Accident
First, get (in this order) the license plate number, make, model, and colour of the car. A license plate by itself is not good enough!--police will check your memory by matching the number and your description of the car against what car the plate is actually registered to.
Then, write it down. Hit and runs are surprisingly common.
Get a description of the person driving the car. Skin colour, race, hair colour, eye colour, glasses/none. If they run away after asking you to pull into the next parking lot (also common), you want to be prepared. (At this time, also check your clock and write down the exact time of the accident.)
Look for witnesses. Especially if it was the other driver's fault. Get at least two witnesses. Flag them down if necessary. Witnesses aren't usually necessary, unless the other driver reverses into you or does something particularly stupid. You also need witnesses if the other guy runs a red.
On the other hand, if the accident was your fault, you don't want witnesses. You can't stop them from witnessing, but you certainly don't need to flag their car down.
Get the full name and contact numbers of the witness. If you can do so without being pushy, get their address as well. Police prefer and trust home visits over phone calls.
When exchanging information, get their driver's license and insurance, and hand over your own.
You will need this information regardless of whose fault the accident is. Also, ask who the owner of the car is, and if it's different than the driver, get information on the owner.
Specifically, you will need the full name (first, middle, and last), address, postal/zip code, telephone numbers, driver's license number, province/state of the license, class of license, gender, date of birth, age (included in date of birth) from the license; owner's name, address, postal/zip code and phone numbers; and the insurance company's name, policy number, and expiry date. (In other words, everything.)
After you exchange information, the person at fault may offer to pay for it in cash. If you are at fault, you will want to pay in cash, because your insurance will skyrocket.
Car repairs are ridiculously expensive. Take these examples from actual police reports.
"Front Bumper, Right Headlight, and Hood Damage--$2000"
"FL Corner of Bumper, FL Headlight Cover Damaged--$1000"
"Rear Bumper cracked--$1200"
A damaged license plate is $150. Any bumper damage that can't be sanded away will cause the bumper to be "totalled", which usually runs around $1000, depending on the size of the vehicle.
All this said, you want to pay in cash, even with these absurd prices, and you don't want your insurance to know. You can't force the other party to leave insurance/police out of it, but you can offer gently.
People lie. All the time. For the first five minutes of every accident, everyone says sorry. After that, it's your fault--you reversed into them--regardless of whose fault the accident really is. That's why witnesses are important.
I always feel sorry reading the reports of those under 25, because if it's their fault they admit it and they haven't learned how to bend words/lie yet. I think once every 50 reports, I get one where someone isn't defending their innocence by bending words/outright lying.
Now, I don't condone lying, but.. if you must lie, make sure it matches the damage on your car. If you T-bone someone, and claim the other guy rear-ended you... police aren't stupid. (It's really funny reading the reports of stupid liars.)
Before you leave the scene, write down the location of the accident and make sure the other driver is aware of the accident location too. It would make my job so much easier if you can exactly place the accident, i.e. "Eastbound Main Street, directly in front of McDonalds, 1240 Main Street, just before the intersection of Main & First, 5 yards before the right turn lane begins." Things that help me in my job are when I know the intersection just passed and the intersection about to be reached when it's a midblock; and the exact businesses nearby, with address numbers, whether at an intersection or a midblock. I'd appreciate it. :-)
After the Accident
If you don't trust the other guy or it's their fault or if damage is significant or you're going through insurance, report the accident to the police. Call 911. (If someone is injured, call 911.)
Get multiple estimates for your/their car if you're paying for it. (Unless the car isn't driveable, and needs to be towed everywhere.) Car shops generally charge more if they find out it's being paid for through insurance. It's easier to rob a non-personal corporation than a person and future potential customer.
Always carry a pen and paper in your car. (The glovebox is a good place.)
Have insurance, and carry it with you like you carry your license. Also, keep it up to date. Many drivers will accuse you of being at fault if your insurance papers are expired. It's an accusation that doesn't work unless you no longer have insurance, but it's still nice to avoid the accusation.
During the Accident
First, get (in this order) the license plate number, make, model, and colour of the car. A license plate by itself is not good enough!--police will check your memory by matching the number and your description of the car against what car the plate is actually registered to.
Then, write it down. Hit and runs are surprisingly common.
Get a description of the person driving the car. Skin colour, race, hair colour, eye colour, glasses/none. If they run away after asking you to pull into the next parking lot (also common), you want to be prepared. (At this time, also check your clock and write down the exact time of the accident.)
Look for witnesses. Especially if it was the other driver's fault. Get at least two witnesses. Flag them down if necessary. Witnesses aren't usually necessary, unless the other driver reverses into you or does something particularly stupid. You also need witnesses if the other guy runs a red.
On the other hand, if the accident was your fault, you don't want witnesses. You can't stop them from witnessing, but you certainly don't need to flag their car down.
Get the full name and contact numbers of the witness. If you can do so without being pushy, get their address as well. Police prefer and trust home visits over phone calls.
When exchanging information, get their driver's license and insurance, and hand over your own.
You will need this information regardless of whose fault the accident is. Also, ask who the owner of the car is, and if it's different than the driver, get information on the owner.
Specifically, you will need the full name (first, middle, and last), address, postal/zip code, telephone numbers, driver's license number, province/state of the license, class of license, gender, date of birth, age (included in date of birth) from the license; owner's name, address, postal/zip code and phone numbers; and the insurance company's name, policy number, and expiry date. (In other words, everything.)
After you exchange information, the person at fault may offer to pay for it in cash. If you are at fault, you will want to pay in cash, because your insurance will skyrocket.
Car repairs are ridiculously expensive. Take these examples from actual police reports.
"Front Bumper, Right Headlight, and Hood Damage--$2000"
"FL Corner of Bumper, FL Headlight Cover Damaged--$1000"
"Rear Bumper cracked--$1200"
A damaged license plate is $150. Any bumper damage that can't be sanded away will cause the bumper to be "totalled", which usually runs around $1000, depending on the size of the vehicle.
All this said, you want to pay in cash, even with these absurd prices, and you don't want your insurance to know. You can't force the other party to leave insurance/police out of it, but you can offer gently.
People lie. All the time. For the first five minutes of every accident, everyone says sorry. After that, it's your fault--you reversed into them--regardless of whose fault the accident really is. That's why witnesses are important.
I always feel sorry reading the reports of those under 25, because if it's their fault they admit it and they haven't learned how to bend words/lie yet. I think once every 50 reports, I get one where someone isn't defending their innocence by bending words/outright lying.
Now, I don't condone lying, but.. if you must lie, make sure it matches the damage on your car. If you T-bone someone, and claim the other guy rear-ended you... police aren't stupid. (It's really funny reading the reports of stupid liars.)
Before you leave the scene, write down the location of the accident and make sure the other driver is aware of the accident location too. It would make my job so much easier if you can exactly place the accident, i.e. "Eastbound Main Street, directly in front of McDonalds, 1240 Main Street, just before the intersection of Main & First, 5 yards before the right turn lane begins." Things that help me in my job are when I know the intersection just passed and the intersection about to be reached when it's a midblock; and the exact businesses nearby, with address numbers, whether at an intersection or a midblock. I'd appreciate it. :-)
After the Accident
If you don't trust the other guy or it's their fault or if damage is significant or you're going through insurance, report the accident to the police. Call 911. (If someone is injured, call 911.)
Get multiple estimates for your/their car if you're paying for it. (Unless the car isn't driveable, and needs to be towed everywhere.) Car shops generally charge more if they find out it's being paid for through insurance. It's easier to rob a non-personal corporation than a person and future potential customer.
Monday, July 14, 2008
How Traffic Accidents Happen
Over the last four summers, I've worked for the government sorting traffic accident reports. During that time, I've read an estimated 6,000 of them.
You might think a job like mine is very interesting, but in reality, it's extremely dull. There is the occasional report that pops up once every few days that makes me laugh out loud (e.g. the bird incident), but that aside, every accident happens the exact same way. In the five scenarios below, I am giving you 95% of all accidents, hoping that, as my friends, you learn from the mistakes of others and remain accident free.
1. Bad Left Turns
"I think I can make it! I think I can make it! Oh--I didn't make it."
It amazes me how many bad left turns are made. If a vehicle is blocking your view of the other lanes, and they remain empty for a while, that doesn't make it okay to make a left! Inch out until you can see, then make the left when it's clear.
Once I read about a guy who made a left on a yellow and was hit by an oncoming car. He claimed the other driver "ran the yellow." You cannot run a yellow! Just because the light has turned yellow/red does not mean oncoming traffic has stopped! Just because one lane has stopped for the yellow does not mean the others have!
Making lefts out of malls are equally dangerous. Often when traffic is stuck at a red light, a car will get waved through to make a left, only to get hit by another car in the left/right turn lane. Cars in these lanes are usually zooming, foot on accelerator, having just pulled out from behind heavy traffic. What's worse is the person making the left is hidden by the vehicles waving them out. So when you're in this situation, inch out slowly so you have a chance to see and be seen before stepping on the gas. And if you're waving someone out, look for traffic for them and give them space so they can look too.
Finally, look both ways when making lefts. I have been hit as a cyclist at least twice by people waiting to make a left, see no traffic to the left and assume all is clear, never even turning their head to the right where pedestrian me is coming across.
While driving, also look for idiot drivers making bad lefts. While they would be at fault if they cause an accident, it will still be a hassle to you to get in one. If you can't see the left turn lane because of traffic, and you're the first car after a gap, you should be especially careful.
Bad right turns on red lights also happen with frequency. Never change lanes in the middle of an intersection. This would help matters. That and being careful when making a right on a red. The oncoming traffic is moving a lot faster than you.
2. Tailgating/Failing to look up
A failure to brake in time might possibly be the number one cause of accidents.
"The car ahead of me suddenly braked without reason" is a common excuse given for rear-ending someone. It also doesn't work. If you rear-end someone, you are automatically at fault. Cars may stop at any time for any reason. Making a turn into a driveway, traffic, a dog/box on the road--you are legally required to stop your car in time, and none of these excuses work if you hit the vehicle in front that managed to stop in time.
It's amazing how many people don't expect cars to stop on residential streets as they turn into their driveway.
It's also amazing how some people don't expect cars to stop twice at a stop sign. I was always taught that you stop on the white line, then if you can't see traffic, roll out and stop again.
Rear-enders especially happen to cars making rights on a red light/in a turning channel. Just because the road is "clear" does not mean the driver ahead of you has realized this. And when the driver ahead of you does begin to move, that does not mean they won't stop again. So often when the driver making a right on a red starts moving, the car behind them hits the gas and starts looking for traffic, only to hit the car ahead who ended up not going yet.
Finally, don't tailgate. You never know when the car ahead of you has a clutch and is doomed to roll backwards three feet (ten feet?) before moving forwards again on a green. Leave some space!
3. Trucks
Most people don't know how to drive trucks, and are thus unaware of the special challenges a trucker faces while driving.
For starters, trucks make wide turns. If you are in a double turning lane and are making a turn at the same time as a tractor-trailer, you stand a good chance of getting hit/side-swiped. Let the cars behind you honk all they want--either get through the turn before the truck starts moving, or stay out of the way. If you must make a turn at the same time, do it from the outside lane, and leave a lot of space.
Likewise, many trucks cannot make a right turn from the right lane without hitting a lamppost and must therefore make it from the centre lane. This is legal and don't act like it isn't. If you see the turn signal come on, get out of the way.
Trucks being heavy, they take longer to stop. Don't slam on the brakes in front of one. If you must make an unexpected left/right (into a driveway?), signal early, and give a warning tap on the brakes a few times before starting to slow down.
Trucks also frequently reverse. This has to do with the cargo door being at the back of the truck and the reality that many driveways/parking lots lack maneuvering room.
If you cannot see a trucker's mirrors, he cannot see you! For that reason, never, ever tailgate a truck! If you're trying to get fuel efficiency by drafting behind a truck, only do it on a parkway/interstate and be careful!
Blowing your horn to a truck is almost useless. My Dad drove a truck for 15+ years. He's lost most of his hearing because the truck engine was so loud. The truck engine will drown out the sound of your horn. (That's why truck horns are so loud.)
If a trucker begins reversing into you, get out of the way. If that isn't possible, you can try a blast of the horn, but better than that, make visual contact. Open a door. Stick your arm out of the window. S/he probably won't hear you so make them see you.
4. Deer
This is one of two universal excuses that gets you off the hook, police-wise and insurance-wise when you have an accident. (The other is when the other driver is drunk.)
(Alright, there is a third, but it doesn't happen often--see the auto shop incident.)
It amazes me that deer aren't extinct yet after all the hit deer I've read about.
Now, it isn't always a deer. Sometimes it's a dog, cat, cow, moose, toilet (that was a funny story).
Your best course of action is usually to remain going straight, slam on the brakes, hope the animal moves, and if it doesn't blame the damage all on the animal. Unless the animal is a moose, in which case do everything possible to get out of the way, because hitting that thing at a high rate of speed can kill you, and will at the very least total your car/pickup.
If you try to swerve out of the way of the deer, you risk two things. First, that the deer will jump out of the way and into the path you swerved into. Second, travelling a high rate of speed on a gravel shoulder usually results in a car in the ditch or flipped over, which often results in a totalled vehicle, whereas hitting a deer just destroys your front end. It's like the Titanic thing: you'd rather hit the iceberg straight on than scrape it down the side.
5. Parking
People can't park.
Or reverse. I've read so many reports where someone reverses while another car is flying down the aisle. Bang! The funny ones are when two people reverse into each other.
Anyway, it's a parking lot. People reverse out of spots all the time. Without looking, or in the better cases trusting that the rear-view mirror reveals all (it doesn't). Caution should rule. (This is why I always back into a parking spot. It's easier to get in than get out.)
Parking lots are also bad for hit and runs. There are more hit & runs in parking lots than all the other places combined. My Dad's favourite hit and run story was the guy who hit a car in a crowded mall with many witnesses, so he got out and left a note, which when all the witnesses noticed that, they left. Except that all he wrote on the piece of paper was "Sorry!" and drove off.
To give you an idea of parking lot hit and runs, there's a mall nearby especially bad for accidents. It's in a city of 100,000 people. There's an accident there around every 3 days. There's a hit and run there every 15 days. (These might be low estimates.)
Avoid all of the above, and you'll miss out on 95% of at-fault accidents.
Now, just hope the 5% doesn't get you.
Safe Driving!
Oh, right, the bird incident. So this guy goes to a pet shop and buys a bird. He's driving down the road and stops for a red light, when it occurs to him that the bird probably isn't comfortable and might have a hard time breathing in the tiny box he came in, so, he opens the box. The bird goes nuts and flitters all about the car before coming to rest underneath the brake pedal. The driver panics, lets go of the brakes, and rolls into the car in front of him.
As for the auto shop incident... this guy drives out of an auto shop. He gets onto the main road, and he isn't more than 100 feet away from the shop when the back passenger side of the car collapses onto the road, causing massive damage to the bottom of the car. Once the car stops, he gets out to see a couple walking towards him holding his tire, which had hit a car in a parking lot. The couple goes to the auto shop, where they call a tow truck. The tow truck driver finds a few lugnuts on the road trailing the car's path. The tow truck driver towed it back to the auto shop. The next day, the driver has it towed to a different auto shop. I wonder if anyone got fired?
You might think a job like mine is very interesting, but in reality, it's extremely dull. There is the occasional report that pops up once every few days that makes me laugh out loud (e.g. the bird incident), but that aside, every accident happens the exact same way. In the five scenarios below, I am giving you 95% of all accidents, hoping that, as my friends, you learn from the mistakes of others and remain accident free.
1. Bad Left Turns
"I think I can make it! I think I can make it! Oh--I didn't make it."
It amazes me how many bad left turns are made. If a vehicle is blocking your view of the other lanes, and they remain empty for a while, that doesn't make it okay to make a left! Inch out until you can see, then make the left when it's clear.
Once I read about a guy who made a left on a yellow and was hit by an oncoming car. He claimed the other driver "ran the yellow." You cannot run a yellow! Just because the light has turned yellow/red does not mean oncoming traffic has stopped! Just because one lane has stopped for the yellow does not mean the others have!
Making lefts out of malls are equally dangerous. Often when traffic is stuck at a red light, a car will get waved through to make a left, only to get hit by another car in the left/right turn lane. Cars in these lanes are usually zooming, foot on accelerator, having just pulled out from behind heavy traffic. What's worse is the person making the left is hidden by the vehicles waving them out. So when you're in this situation, inch out slowly so you have a chance to see and be seen before stepping on the gas. And if you're waving someone out, look for traffic for them and give them space so they can look too.
Finally, look both ways when making lefts. I have been hit as a cyclist at least twice by people waiting to make a left, see no traffic to the left and assume all is clear, never even turning their head to the right where pedestrian me is coming across.
While driving, also look for idiot drivers making bad lefts. While they would be at fault if they cause an accident, it will still be a hassle to you to get in one. If you can't see the left turn lane because of traffic, and you're the first car after a gap, you should be especially careful.
Bad right turns on red lights also happen with frequency. Never change lanes in the middle of an intersection. This would help matters. That and being careful when making a right on a red. The oncoming traffic is moving a lot faster than you.
2. Tailgating/Failing to look up
A failure to brake in time might possibly be the number one cause of accidents.
"The car ahead of me suddenly braked without reason" is a common excuse given for rear-ending someone. It also doesn't work. If you rear-end someone, you are automatically at fault. Cars may stop at any time for any reason. Making a turn into a driveway, traffic, a dog/box on the road--you are legally required to stop your car in time, and none of these excuses work if you hit the vehicle in front that managed to stop in time.
It's amazing how many people don't expect cars to stop on residential streets as they turn into their driveway.
It's also amazing how some people don't expect cars to stop twice at a stop sign. I was always taught that you stop on the white line, then if you can't see traffic, roll out and stop again.
Rear-enders especially happen to cars making rights on a red light/in a turning channel. Just because the road is "clear" does not mean the driver ahead of you has realized this. And when the driver ahead of you does begin to move, that does not mean they won't stop again. So often when the driver making a right on a red starts moving, the car behind them hits the gas and starts looking for traffic, only to hit the car ahead who ended up not going yet.
Finally, don't tailgate. You never know when the car ahead of you has a clutch and is doomed to roll backwards three feet (ten feet?) before moving forwards again on a green. Leave some space!
3. Trucks
Most people don't know how to drive trucks, and are thus unaware of the special challenges a trucker faces while driving.
For starters, trucks make wide turns. If you are in a double turning lane and are making a turn at the same time as a tractor-trailer, you stand a good chance of getting hit/side-swiped. Let the cars behind you honk all they want--either get through the turn before the truck starts moving, or stay out of the way. If you must make a turn at the same time, do it from the outside lane, and leave a lot of space.
Likewise, many trucks cannot make a right turn from the right lane without hitting a lamppost and must therefore make it from the centre lane. This is legal and don't act like it isn't. If you see the turn signal come on, get out of the way.
Trucks being heavy, they take longer to stop. Don't slam on the brakes in front of one. If you must make an unexpected left/right (into a driveway?), signal early, and give a warning tap on the brakes a few times before starting to slow down.
Trucks also frequently reverse. This has to do with the cargo door being at the back of the truck and the reality that many driveways/parking lots lack maneuvering room.
If you cannot see a trucker's mirrors, he cannot see you! For that reason, never, ever tailgate a truck! If you're trying to get fuel efficiency by drafting behind a truck, only do it on a parkway/interstate and be careful!
Blowing your horn to a truck is almost useless. My Dad drove a truck for 15+ years. He's lost most of his hearing because the truck engine was so loud. The truck engine will drown out the sound of your horn. (That's why truck horns are so loud.)
If a trucker begins reversing into you, get out of the way. If that isn't possible, you can try a blast of the horn, but better than that, make visual contact. Open a door. Stick your arm out of the window. S/he probably won't hear you so make them see you.
4. Deer
This is one of two universal excuses that gets you off the hook, police-wise and insurance-wise when you have an accident. (The other is when the other driver is drunk.)
(Alright, there is a third, but it doesn't happen often--see the auto shop incident.)
It amazes me that deer aren't extinct yet after all the hit deer I've read about.
Now, it isn't always a deer. Sometimes it's a dog, cat, cow, moose, toilet (that was a funny story).
Your best course of action is usually to remain going straight, slam on the brakes, hope the animal moves, and if it doesn't blame the damage all on the animal. Unless the animal is a moose, in which case do everything possible to get out of the way, because hitting that thing at a high rate of speed can kill you, and will at the very least total your car/pickup.
If you try to swerve out of the way of the deer, you risk two things. First, that the deer will jump out of the way and into the path you swerved into. Second, travelling a high rate of speed on a gravel shoulder usually results in a car in the ditch or flipped over, which often results in a totalled vehicle, whereas hitting a deer just destroys your front end. It's like the Titanic thing: you'd rather hit the iceberg straight on than scrape it down the side.
5. Parking
People can't park.
Or reverse. I've read so many reports where someone reverses while another car is flying down the aisle. Bang! The funny ones are when two people reverse into each other.
Anyway, it's a parking lot. People reverse out of spots all the time. Without looking, or in the better cases trusting that the rear-view mirror reveals all (it doesn't). Caution should rule. (This is why I always back into a parking spot. It's easier to get in than get out.)
Parking lots are also bad for hit and runs. There are more hit & runs in parking lots than all the other places combined. My Dad's favourite hit and run story was the guy who hit a car in a crowded mall with many witnesses, so he got out and left a note, which when all the witnesses noticed that, they left. Except that all he wrote on the piece of paper was "Sorry!" and drove off.
To give you an idea of parking lot hit and runs, there's a mall nearby especially bad for accidents. It's in a city of 100,000 people. There's an accident there around every 3 days. There's a hit and run there every 15 days. (These might be low estimates.)
Avoid all of the above, and you'll miss out on 95% of at-fault accidents.
Now, just hope the 5% doesn't get you.
Safe Driving!
Oh, right, the bird incident. So this guy goes to a pet shop and buys a bird. He's driving down the road and stops for a red light, when it occurs to him that the bird probably isn't comfortable and might have a hard time breathing in the tiny box he came in, so, he opens the box. The bird goes nuts and flitters all about the car before coming to rest underneath the brake pedal. The driver panics, lets go of the brakes, and rolls into the car in front of him.
As for the auto shop incident... this guy drives out of an auto shop. He gets onto the main road, and he isn't more than 100 feet away from the shop when the back passenger side of the car collapses onto the road, causing massive damage to the bottom of the car. Once the car stops, he gets out to see a couple walking towards him holding his tire, which had hit a car in a parking lot. The couple goes to the auto shop, where they call a tow truck. The tow truck driver finds a few lugnuts on the road trailing the car's path. The tow truck driver towed it back to the auto shop. The next day, the driver has it towed to a different auto shop. I wonder if anyone got fired?
What the Unconscious Wants
So I'm dreaming that I've just returned to Walla Walla, and there's a crowd. I'm assuming it was the Welcome Back Bash.
A certain person, to remain unnamed, walks up to me. Because of the crowd, we're somewhat close, and our arms end up touching. Our arms eventually become locked, which slowly turns into... holding hands. (It was primarily her initiative.)
After a few seconds, I look at her and ask "Does this mean we're a couple?" She replies "No," but continues to hold my hand.
And there my dream ends. (Either that or I forget the rest.)
The weird part is that I'm not actually (that) interested in her. (Yet?)
A certain person, to remain unnamed, walks up to me. Because of the crowd, we're somewhat close, and our arms end up touching. Our arms eventually become locked, which slowly turns into... holding hands. (It was primarily her initiative.)
After a few seconds, I look at her and ask "Does this mean we're a couple?" She replies "No," but continues to hold my hand.
And there my dream ends. (Either that or I forget the rest.)
The weird part is that I'm not actually (that) interested in her. (Yet?)
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Travelling Adventures, Vol. II
I started out by leaving for Pendleton a little before 3:00AM to catch a Greyhound bus. My roommate so kindly delivered me to the station, which was really four chairs outside a convenience store/restaurant which was offering "Hillbilly Nachos." I got there around 3:30AM after a little difficulty finding the place (Mapquest failed us), then waited for the 4AM bus.
About 15 minutes later, some guy wearing leather, cowboy hat and driving a pimp car showed up. I was a litter nervous as he smoked and tried to strike up a conversation. He was waiting to pick up a friend.
The sun rose. The bus was late. It was freezing outside. No, wait: it was freezing outside.
The guy left momentarily with a woman who showed up in an identical car. When he returned around 4:30-4:45, the bus still hadn't shown.
By the time I actually got on the bus it was too bright to sleep, but I tried to make a go of it anyways, existing in a semi-conscious state until 2PM.
We got to Salt Lake City around 6PM. Because of city regulations, all luggage must come off the bus, so Greyhound usually takes this opportunity to service the bus. I thought this two-hour layover was an opportunity to explore the city.
I had two hours. During all previous visits to Salt Lake bus terminal it was either night or I had too much luggage. This time, I had a backpack, a sleeping bag, and a bag of cereal. I love travelling light. It's so much less hassle, I don't have to worry about luggage under the bus/plane getting lost/stolen; it just gives me more freedom and comfort.
I was a little afraid my sleeping bag made me look like a homeless person, especially as I neared the local "St. Vincent de Paul"--"oh, so that's why there's all these dirty unshaven smokers sitting on the sidewalk"--so I took off my jacket (it was too hot anyways) and wrapped up the bag and cereal to hide it, so I was now pregnant, except obviously carrying something.
As I walked down the sidewalk, a man and a younger man/teen walked ahead of me. The man looked into a garbage can, pulled out a half-eaten hamburger, and started eating it, while the young one said "that's disgusting!" (I had to concur.) He defended himself by saying he was so hungry. I tried to keep some distance thereafter.
My impression of Salt Lake is that it's a city where all the buildings look 10 years old. Which in this case is probably true, with the Olympics held here six years ago and all. It's as if the Olympics walked in, built all these fancy new buildings, and left, with the locals unsure of what to do with these buildings that were too nice for them.
I saw the Salt Palace, the convention centre (which seemed excessively fancy for a convention centre), some tall buildings, the home arena of the Jazz (was it the Xcel energy arena?), and Union station. Apparently, the last spike was driven somewhere nearby, so that was a big thing.
On my walk back to the station, I passed a Chinese restaurant. I wasn't feeling Chinese, but I was hungry, so I walked in. It advertised an award of "Best Chinese restaurant in Salt Lake 2007." It charged like it, too. After seeing figures like $15, $20 on their wall menu, I left and settled on a dinner of cereal.
Back on the bus again, I spent the next few hours (until 2PM) trying to sleep. Two travellers (a lady and a black man) struck up a conversation and tried to meet everyone on the bus. When I finally gave up on sleep, the lady (sitting in the seat in front of me) said "I was about to shake you to see if you were alright." They were very friendly. (Unusual for a Greyhound.)
A man got on the bus the next stop and loudly asked "Does anyone have a cellphone I can borrow? I need to call my wife." The girl one seat in front of him obliged, and he proceeded to talk for 15-20 minutes. But that wasn't the shocking part--the conversation he was in reverted back and forth, as if it was manic-depressive, between "I love you so much" and heavy, angry cursing. The switch happened at least seven to twelve times. After the first cursing episode, we all looked at the girl stifling a little laugh as she looked bewildered and shrugged her shoulders.
I finally arrived at Lincoln, a half-hour late, and there waited for another 20 minutes as Andy, Ashley, and Liz learned that buses don't go to Amtrak stations. (I love you guys!)
While I waited, I watched two rabbits walk right up to me. I wondered if their familiarity had anything to do with my odour. (36 hours on a bus will do that to you.)
Sarah's wedding was great. It was wonderful seeing friends unseen in two years. (The mints were great too.) I must admit that I enjoyed surprising Sarah :-) Sandy was a great hostess.
All too soon, it was time to return to Walla Walla. I desperately sent out mass emails hoping I could get someone to pick me up from Pendleton (my roommate had left by then), but I had no responses by the time I left.
The bus was about an hour late. (No surprise there.) I began reading Frank Herbert's Dune. I really enjoyed the book. It had interesting ideas on the power of observation.
One or two stops down the road, a man with two sons got on the bus. With no empty seats remaining, he sat down beside me, with his two children in the two seats ahead. They appeared to be between 5 and 10 years old. By now it was midnight, so I tried to sleep, though it was to no avail. He took out a cellphone and proceeded to call what I presume was his wife. Over the next half-hour to an hour, I overheard bits and pieces of the following conversation.
"I wish I was in bed with you right now."
"I'm so horny right now."
"I can't control when I get horny."
"I just want to @$#% you."
His children, mind you, are one seat in front, and possibly in hearing range of this whole conversation. He was talking in a low, gravelly voice. He was also a little large, and had one leg up against me for lack of room. I was a little disturbed.
I got to Denver around 6 in the morning, then prepared myself for a six-hour layover. (Ridiculous, eh?) Just as in Salt Lake, I thought this was a wonderful opportunity to explore a town I had never been in (bus terminal aside) before.
My first impression was that I was surprised by the audacity of the pedestrians. Until 9AM in the morning, I didn't see a single pedestrian other than myself that obeyed traffic signals. (Sadly, that isn't an exaggeration.) Numerous times I saw cars try to make left turns on an advance green, only to be held up by pedestrians crossing when they weren't supposed to. A few times I saw people walk against the flow of traffic, stopping in between lanes to allow cars to pass on either side.
After wandering random downtown streets for an hour or so, I decided it was time for breakfast. I found an interesting little restaurant named "The Delectable Egg." It specialized in serving eggs for breakfast and lunch. (Who'd have guessed that?) I splurged. (Okay, no one would have guessed that.) For ten dollars, I had a hard boiled egg, a scrambled egg, four pieces of toast, cheesy hash browns, and a ginger ale that was freely refilled without my asking. I was rather stuffed after that breakfast!
Outside on the street, I found... a print edition of the Onion! And it was free! How awesome is that? The headline that day was about how a recently surfaced videotape of Dick Cheney offered clues about his whereabouts. The tape had "known extremist" Cheney talking about "never surrendering," and warning Americans against "making the wrong choice in November."
I then found my way to some central park place beside an art district. I found a homeless man sleeping under one of the arches. As his sleeping bag was pulled over his head as if he wanted to make the sun go back down, I decided it was too early for him.
I was surprised at how artsy Denver was. Statues and art work were copiously scattered all over the city. I posed by a gigantic broom and dustpan (see MySpace).
Around 8AM, I saw some beautiful flowers, and just had to get down and take a picture. So I knelt down on the sidewalk and opened my backpack and the first thing I saw was my Bible. It occurred to me that I hadn't had devotions yet, and...
I started reading the Bible. On the sidewalk, knelt down. I figured I was in a strange city, might as well do something odd. Around 20 people passed while I was reading. Not one of them slowed down, except to walk around me. The last one was a lady on a cellphone. As she passed, I overheard her say, "I don't even have the time for things I'm usually involved with, like church..." What a world we live in, where a person praying on the sidewalk doesn't merit a second glance!
I found my way to a mall, where I was greatly disappointed that the "Cheesecake Factory" was not yet open, and would open too late for me to also make my bus. I found an ESPN Zone in the same mall, also closed, and a man in a wheelchair reading the history of the Denver Broncos painted on the wall outside as if he was visiting some religious shrine. (On a sidenote, there was a water fountain beside the wall that had some of the best tasting water I've ever drunk!)
Denver was filled with construction. There were cranes and skyscrapers going up all over the place.
I saw the U.S. Mint. The Mint's tours were already fully booked that day, as early in the morning as I went. Plus, well, I'd already visited the Canadian Mint, and didn't expect the U.S. Mint to be much different. I did notice a fence around the perimeter and police stationed all around to ensure that no one climbed on the fence. And the front door looked so heavily barricaded that it couldn't be opened. (In which case, why is it there?)
The U.S. Federal Courthouse looked like the Lincoln Memorial. (No joke.) It's marble pillars were a stark contrast to the modernistic Oshawa courthouse going up right now.
I loved how there was a building and street downtown named after some guy who lost his job in the military for trying to negotiate peace with the Native Americans during the American-Indian wars of the 1860s. And how he was still honoured despite failing in the accomplishment he was honoured for.
Overall, I thought Denver was an odd conglomeration of old and new. 100 year old factories and warehouses have been meticulously preserved and turned into flats. One old warehouse is now a parking lot, with a newer building built into, over, and around it. I liked it. A lot.
I got back to the terminal an hour early, as I was now aching from walking for four hours, and was dismayed to discover a gigantic line for the westbound bus. It felt like my lucky day, when I got to the front of the line, and the driver told the guy in front of me "last one." I actually was lucky, because they then announced there would be another bus to double the route, thus giving me first choice of the seats.
Upon arriving in Salt Lake, another two-hour layover, my bus (the second one) was delayed an extra hour. I used the time to check my email and send another desperate email out, this time to people I knew in Walla Walla.
A young mother got on the bus at Salt Lake with what I presume were a pair of twins. When one would stop crying, the other would start, and vice versa. I don't think she got any sleep, or anyone near us--she sat down beside me. I was conscious of my reading light, as it was past midnight, but I wanted to finish the chapter first, even if it might have kept the babies up. A finished soon enough, but an hour after that, the babies were still crying. She was resting one of their heads on my leg due to lack of space (and probably darkness as well--I don't know if she realized it). When both of them started crying yet again, I asked "Would you like some help?" offering to hold one. She said no. Thus Adam learned that mothers are extremely protective of their children, and won't give them up to a complete stranger.
We were delayed another hour in Boise. I thus got to Pendleton two hours late, hoping no one had come to pick me up and ended up waiting for an excessive amount of time. Once inside the station/store, the cashier said a note was left for me. My wonderful boss was offering a ride, once I actually arrived.
While waiting, I finished Dune. Then I got a ride in an air conditioned vehicle all the way home. Thus ends my travels. :-)
About 15 minutes later, some guy wearing leather, cowboy hat and driving a pimp car showed up. I was a litter nervous as he smoked and tried to strike up a conversation. He was waiting to pick up a friend.
The sun rose. The bus was late. It was freezing outside. No, wait: it was freezing outside.
The guy left momentarily with a woman who showed up in an identical car. When he returned around 4:30-4:45, the bus still hadn't shown.
By the time I actually got on the bus it was too bright to sleep, but I tried to make a go of it anyways, existing in a semi-conscious state until 2PM.
We got to Salt Lake City around 6PM. Because of city regulations, all luggage must come off the bus, so Greyhound usually takes this opportunity to service the bus. I thought this two-hour layover was an opportunity to explore the city.
I had two hours. During all previous visits to Salt Lake bus terminal it was either night or I had too much luggage. This time, I had a backpack, a sleeping bag, and a bag of cereal. I love travelling light. It's so much less hassle, I don't have to worry about luggage under the bus/plane getting lost/stolen; it just gives me more freedom and comfort.
I was a little afraid my sleeping bag made me look like a homeless person, especially as I neared the local "St. Vincent de Paul"--"oh, so that's why there's all these dirty unshaven smokers sitting on the sidewalk"--so I took off my jacket (it was too hot anyways) and wrapped up the bag and cereal to hide it, so I was now pregnant, except obviously carrying something.
As I walked down the sidewalk, a man and a younger man/teen walked ahead of me. The man looked into a garbage can, pulled out a half-eaten hamburger, and started eating it, while the young one said "that's disgusting!" (I had to concur.) He defended himself by saying he was so hungry. I tried to keep some distance thereafter.
My impression of Salt Lake is that it's a city where all the buildings look 10 years old. Which in this case is probably true, with the Olympics held here six years ago and all. It's as if the Olympics walked in, built all these fancy new buildings, and left, with the locals unsure of what to do with these buildings that were too nice for them.
I saw the Salt Palace, the convention centre (which seemed excessively fancy for a convention centre), some tall buildings, the home arena of the Jazz (was it the Xcel energy arena?), and Union station. Apparently, the last spike was driven somewhere nearby, so that was a big thing.
On my walk back to the station, I passed a Chinese restaurant. I wasn't feeling Chinese, but I was hungry, so I walked in. It advertised an award of "Best Chinese restaurant in Salt Lake 2007." It charged like it, too. After seeing figures like $15, $20 on their wall menu, I left and settled on a dinner of cereal.
Back on the bus again, I spent the next few hours (until 2PM) trying to sleep. Two travellers (a lady and a black man) struck up a conversation and tried to meet everyone on the bus. When I finally gave up on sleep, the lady (sitting in the seat in front of me) said "I was about to shake you to see if you were alright." They were very friendly. (Unusual for a Greyhound.)
A man got on the bus the next stop and loudly asked "Does anyone have a cellphone I can borrow? I need to call my wife." The girl one seat in front of him obliged, and he proceeded to talk for 15-20 minutes. But that wasn't the shocking part--the conversation he was in reverted back and forth, as if it was manic-depressive, between "I love you so much" and heavy, angry cursing. The switch happened at least seven to twelve times. After the first cursing episode, we all looked at the girl stifling a little laugh as she looked bewildered and shrugged her shoulders.
I finally arrived at Lincoln, a half-hour late, and there waited for another 20 minutes as Andy, Ashley, and Liz learned that buses don't go to Amtrak stations. (I love you guys!)
While I waited, I watched two rabbits walk right up to me. I wondered if their familiarity had anything to do with my odour. (36 hours on a bus will do that to you.)
Sarah's wedding was great. It was wonderful seeing friends unseen in two years. (The mints were great too.) I must admit that I enjoyed surprising Sarah :-) Sandy was a great hostess.
All too soon, it was time to return to Walla Walla. I desperately sent out mass emails hoping I could get someone to pick me up from Pendleton (my roommate had left by then), but I had no responses by the time I left.
The bus was about an hour late. (No surprise there.) I began reading Frank Herbert's Dune. I really enjoyed the book. It had interesting ideas on the power of observation.
One or two stops down the road, a man with two sons got on the bus. With no empty seats remaining, he sat down beside me, with his two children in the two seats ahead. They appeared to be between 5 and 10 years old. By now it was midnight, so I tried to sleep, though it was to no avail. He took out a cellphone and proceeded to call what I presume was his wife. Over the next half-hour to an hour, I overheard bits and pieces of the following conversation.
"I wish I was in bed with you right now."
"I'm so horny right now."
"I can't control when I get horny."
"I just want to @$#% you."
His children, mind you, are one seat in front, and possibly in hearing range of this whole conversation. He was talking in a low, gravelly voice. He was also a little large, and had one leg up against me for lack of room. I was a little disturbed.
I got to Denver around 6 in the morning, then prepared myself for a six-hour layover. (Ridiculous, eh?) Just as in Salt Lake, I thought this was a wonderful opportunity to explore a town I had never been in (bus terminal aside) before.
My first impression was that I was surprised by the audacity of the pedestrians. Until 9AM in the morning, I didn't see a single pedestrian other than myself that obeyed traffic signals. (Sadly, that isn't an exaggeration.) Numerous times I saw cars try to make left turns on an advance green, only to be held up by pedestrians crossing when they weren't supposed to. A few times I saw people walk against the flow of traffic, stopping in between lanes to allow cars to pass on either side.
After wandering random downtown streets for an hour or so, I decided it was time for breakfast. I found an interesting little restaurant named "The Delectable Egg." It specialized in serving eggs for breakfast and lunch. (Who'd have guessed that?) I splurged. (Okay, no one would have guessed that.) For ten dollars, I had a hard boiled egg, a scrambled egg, four pieces of toast, cheesy hash browns, and a ginger ale that was freely refilled without my asking. I was rather stuffed after that breakfast!
Outside on the street, I found... a print edition of the Onion! And it was free! How awesome is that? The headline that day was about how a recently surfaced videotape of Dick Cheney offered clues about his whereabouts. The tape had "known extremist" Cheney talking about "never surrendering," and warning Americans against "making the wrong choice in November."
I then found my way to some central park place beside an art district. I found a homeless man sleeping under one of the arches. As his sleeping bag was pulled over his head as if he wanted to make the sun go back down, I decided it was too early for him.
I was surprised at how artsy Denver was. Statues and art work were copiously scattered all over the city. I posed by a gigantic broom and dustpan (see MySpace).
Around 8AM, I saw some beautiful flowers, and just had to get down and take a picture. So I knelt down on the sidewalk and opened my backpack and the first thing I saw was my Bible. It occurred to me that I hadn't had devotions yet, and...
I started reading the Bible. On the sidewalk, knelt down. I figured I was in a strange city, might as well do something odd. Around 20 people passed while I was reading. Not one of them slowed down, except to walk around me. The last one was a lady on a cellphone. As she passed, I overheard her say, "I don't even have the time for things I'm usually involved with, like church..." What a world we live in, where a person praying on the sidewalk doesn't merit a second glance!
I found my way to a mall, where I was greatly disappointed that the "Cheesecake Factory" was not yet open, and would open too late for me to also make my bus. I found an ESPN Zone in the same mall, also closed, and a man in a wheelchair reading the history of the Denver Broncos painted on the wall outside as if he was visiting some religious shrine. (On a sidenote, there was a water fountain beside the wall that had some of the best tasting water I've ever drunk!)
Denver was filled with construction. There were cranes and skyscrapers going up all over the place.
I saw the U.S. Mint. The Mint's tours were already fully booked that day, as early in the morning as I went. Plus, well, I'd already visited the Canadian Mint, and didn't expect the U.S. Mint to be much different. I did notice a fence around the perimeter and police stationed all around to ensure that no one climbed on the fence. And the front door looked so heavily barricaded that it couldn't be opened. (In which case, why is it there?)
The U.S. Federal Courthouse looked like the Lincoln Memorial. (No joke.) It's marble pillars were a stark contrast to the modernistic Oshawa courthouse going up right now.
I loved how there was a building and street downtown named after some guy who lost his job in the military for trying to negotiate peace with the Native Americans during the American-Indian wars of the 1860s. And how he was still honoured despite failing in the accomplishment he was honoured for.
Overall, I thought Denver was an odd conglomeration of old and new. 100 year old factories and warehouses have been meticulously preserved and turned into flats. One old warehouse is now a parking lot, with a newer building built into, over, and around it. I liked it. A lot.
I got back to the terminal an hour early, as I was now aching from walking for four hours, and was dismayed to discover a gigantic line for the westbound bus. It felt like my lucky day, when I got to the front of the line, and the driver told the guy in front of me "last one." I actually was lucky, because they then announced there would be another bus to double the route, thus giving me first choice of the seats.
Upon arriving in Salt Lake, another two-hour layover, my bus (the second one) was delayed an extra hour. I used the time to check my email and send another desperate email out, this time to people I knew in Walla Walla.
A young mother got on the bus at Salt Lake with what I presume were a pair of twins. When one would stop crying, the other would start, and vice versa. I don't think she got any sleep, or anyone near us--she sat down beside me. I was conscious of my reading light, as it was past midnight, but I wanted to finish the chapter first, even if it might have kept the babies up. A finished soon enough, but an hour after that, the babies were still crying. She was resting one of their heads on my leg due to lack of space (and probably darkness as well--I don't know if she realized it). When both of them started crying yet again, I asked "Would you like some help?" offering to hold one. She said no. Thus Adam learned that mothers are extremely protective of their children, and won't give them up to a complete stranger.
We were delayed another hour in Boise. I thus got to Pendleton two hours late, hoping no one had come to pick me up and ended up waiting for an excessive amount of time. Once inside the station/store, the cashier said a note was left for me. My wonderful boss was offering a ride, once I actually arrived.
While waiting, I finished Dune. Then I got a ride in an air conditioned vehicle all the way home. Thus ends my travels. :-)
Friday, June 6, 2008
A Libyan Adventure
This might be one of the longest dreams I've ever had.
I've agreed to go as a Student Missionary to Libya. (Which, in retrospect, sounds suicidal.) I get there, and go to my post, which happens to be an Israeli embassy. My job there is to simply be an office worker. (If you're wondering why a: Israel has an embassy in Libya, or b: why working at an embassy counts as SMing, then you're not alone. Dreams are odd that way.)
So I'm at this embassy, which resembles a small house or office. Think the size of a convenience store at a strip mall. There's a window that looks to the front, and the door is to the side of the window, at a right angle to the window. After the front office, there's a passageway into the back of the building, where more secure documents, a kitchen, and a closet is kept.
All day long, Jewish people come in, looking to immigrate to the homeland. The reasons given are generally to escape persecution. When they come in, they're given shelter while the ambassador runs a check on them to see if they're really Jewish or not. Usually there's a line of three or four people waiting to be checked. They sit in the front of the office, in chairs that remind me of waiting for a dentist or a doctor.
Every now and then, odd incidents happen outside. As I look outside, I see a bunch of people stoning a woman. I'm not sure what it was she did. Most of the stones are missing her, as she is running, but she's definitely getting hit by some of them, and these aren't pebbles she's getting hit by: they're about softball sized.
She eventually makes her way to the office, under a hailstorm of rocks, where we grant her amnesty. We discover she's a Jew and get her the attention she needs. The crowd has left her alone a little ways before she makes it to the office, so the office isn't under any threat.
Later, a protest crowd builds in front of the office/embassy. A group of Christians, presumably flown from America or otherwise American ex-pats, are protesting Israel's actions in Palestine. They're dressed similar to members of the Ku Klux Klan, except some of them aren't wearing hoods. Being in Libya and all, they apparently have little fear of being found out. A few of them try to break into the office. After a couple grabs the door, I wrench it back and lock it, as the protesters are approaching riot level. Thankfully, the glass in the door and window is apparently unbreakable. We dim the lights in the front and evacuate into the back, where the ambassador calls for police to break up the crowd.
Except I don't make it into the back, because one of my glasses lens pops out. I get on my hands and knees and try to find the screw, which is found easily. As I try to put the screw in, the other lens pops out, and I have to find that screw as well.
Eventually, we decide we need to leave for a week or two, so we get to the airport, where it's discovered there's a special terminal for ambassadors. We apparently don't need to file through a separate line, because ambassadors carry a special luggage that identifies them, and fly in special jets. We get to the waiting room, which is filled with 1/3 ambassadors, 2/3 students like myself, most of whom are using the special luggage. We're all waiting to get on a flight to... London? (I think. My memory is fading.)
I end up hanging out with some Canadian students. We're talking, when my glasses lens pops out again. I try to fix it, and manage to do so, but as I raise them back to my face, the other lens pops out. The other students help me. All this popping out has begun to damage the lenses, which are now beginning to resemble a frosted window.
Then, I wake up.
I've agreed to go as a Student Missionary to Libya. (Which, in retrospect, sounds suicidal.) I get there, and go to my post, which happens to be an Israeli embassy. My job there is to simply be an office worker. (If you're wondering why a: Israel has an embassy in Libya, or b: why working at an embassy counts as SMing, then you're not alone. Dreams are odd that way.)
So I'm at this embassy, which resembles a small house or office. Think the size of a convenience store at a strip mall. There's a window that looks to the front, and the door is to the side of the window, at a right angle to the window. After the front office, there's a passageway into the back of the building, where more secure documents, a kitchen, and a closet is kept.
All day long, Jewish people come in, looking to immigrate to the homeland. The reasons given are generally to escape persecution. When they come in, they're given shelter while the ambassador runs a check on them to see if they're really Jewish or not. Usually there's a line of three or four people waiting to be checked. They sit in the front of the office, in chairs that remind me of waiting for a dentist or a doctor.
Every now and then, odd incidents happen outside. As I look outside, I see a bunch of people stoning a woman. I'm not sure what it was she did. Most of the stones are missing her, as she is running, but she's definitely getting hit by some of them, and these aren't pebbles she's getting hit by: they're about softball sized.
She eventually makes her way to the office, under a hailstorm of rocks, where we grant her amnesty. We discover she's a Jew and get her the attention she needs. The crowd has left her alone a little ways before she makes it to the office, so the office isn't under any threat.
Later, a protest crowd builds in front of the office/embassy. A group of Christians, presumably flown from America or otherwise American ex-pats, are protesting Israel's actions in Palestine. They're dressed similar to members of the Ku Klux Klan, except some of them aren't wearing hoods. Being in Libya and all, they apparently have little fear of being found out. A few of them try to break into the office. After a couple grabs the door, I wrench it back and lock it, as the protesters are approaching riot level. Thankfully, the glass in the door and window is apparently unbreakable. We dim the lights in the front and evacuate into the back, where the ambassador calls for police to break up the crowd.
Except I don't make it into the back, because one of my glasses lens pops out. I get on my hands and knees and try to find the screw, which is found easily. As I try to put the screw in, the other lens pops out, and I have to find that screw as well.
Eventually, we decide we need to leave for a week or two, so we get to the airport, where it's discovered there's a special terminal for ambassadors. We apparently don't need to file through a separate line, because ambassadors carry a special luggage that identifies them, and fly in special jets. We get to the waiting room, which is filled with 1/3 ambassadors, 2/3 students like myself, most of whom are using the special luggage. We're all waiting to get on a flight to... London? (I think. My memory is fading.)
I end up hanging out with some Canadian students. We're talking, when my glasses lens pops out again. I try to fix it, and manage to do so, but as I raise them back to my face, the other lens pops out. The other students help me. All this popping out has begun to damage the lenses, which are now beginning to resemble a frosted window.
Then, I wake up.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Rainbow Conversations
There's a rainbow outside right now. Why do rainbows make us happy? Because it's a promise from God? For what?
I had this conversation with a friend.
"What's the promise about rainbows?"
"That God will never flood the Earth again."
"Well that's not very personal."
"Maybe it means that, despite all the storms that hit us in our lives, we will never be destroyed by them. The storm will always have an end."
"What?"
"Well, we're like the Earth, and the flood destroyed the Earth. And so just as the rainbow promises that God will never destroy the Earth by a flood again, so we can know that, though in our lives we have personal storms all the time, they will never destroy us."
I had this conversation with a friend.
"What's the promise about rainbows?"
"That God will never flood the Earth again."
"Well that's not very personal."
"Maybe it means that, despite all the storms that hit us in our lives, we will never be destroyed by them. The storm will always have an end."
"What?"
"Well, we're like the Earth, and the flood destroyed the Earth. And so just as the rainbow promises that God will never destroy the Earth by a flood again, so we can know that, though in our lives we have personal storms all the time, they will never destroy us."
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Thoughts on President Bush
President Bush recently announced that he's giving up golf because he doesn't believe the "commander-in-chief" should be seen playing golf in wartimes.
Well, I thought his sacrifice was admirable, and so I've decided that I will mirror his sacrifice by giving up declaring war. In this time of terror, the world needs global solidarity and friendship, and how can I hurt that by declaring war on fellow nations that had nothing to do with the 9/11 attacks in the first place?
Well, I thought his sacrifice was admirable, and so I've decided that I will mirror his sacrifice by giving up declaring war. In this time of terror, the world needs global solidarity and friendship, and how can I hurt that by declaring war on fellow nations that had nothing to do with the 9/11 attacks in the first place?
Monday, April 28, 2008
Performing vs Serving
One of the first service projects I was ever involved with was St. Vincent's Soup Kitchen. We served lunch on Sundays to 150-200 homeless people in the downtown core. The food was often of better quality than what we could get in the academy cafe--and that isn't meant as a knock against the cafe. Still, I couldn't help but notice as I worked the slop buckets just how much food ended up back in the trash. It didn't grade well. You get what you pay for, I suppose--in this case, one dollar. Not sure what the dollar was for, considering all the food was donated: lighting, perhaps?
The first time I performed a solo in church was Grade 10. I played "Be Thou my Vision" on the flute. I was so nervous my knees were shaking violently and my body was very tensed up--quite the case of stage fright. But I hit all the right notes, and the shaking added a certain vibrato, a richness to the tone. From fear is born beauty? At potluck that sabbath, all the members commented on how well I played the flute--they had previously been unaware of that ability. It was a good performance.
Later, when I was a student missionary in Majuro, I ended up as one of the church pianists, playing every other week. It was often a challenge because we wouldn't find out what hymns we were playing until the man at the pulpit announced it while asking the church to rise. Sometimes, I'd mess around with the hymn, altering chords or creating accompaniments to change it up a little so they wouldn't have to hear the stale old hymn again. They're beautiful songs, but not three times in two days. The variations didn't always work out. They were actually kind of hit and miss. But they were certainly different.
After church, once every two weeks, we'd have an SM potluck. I brought Mom's secret fruit salad because it was a hit every time. It was a bit on the expensive side, but that was a small price to pay to grade well. Approval is priceless. Why else do students cross any boundary to cheat on a test?
I've held to my principles and failed on tests before. It's hard to look a teacher in the eye after you've failed. The feeling lasts until the next time you pass. There are some teachers I still have trouble looking in the eye.
What's the difference between performing and serving?
There was a time, a service day freshman year, when a bunch of us pulled weeds at the fire station. We tried to get them all, but if you've ever tried to clear a dry and dead Morning Glory from a chain link fence, you'll know perfection is a little out of reach. We took frequent breaks as the firefighters gave us the grand tour, other volunteers brought lemonade, and photographers took pictures--after all, the college president was with us.
If we were being paid, I think our performance would have graded poorly, and would have reflected badly on the company. But wouldn't we both have done the same job?
Is your life a performance or a service?
The first time I performed a solo in church was Grade 10. I played "Be Thou my Vision" on the flute. I was so nervous my knees were shaking violently and my body was very tensed up--quite the case of stage fright. But I hit all the right notes, and the shaking added a certain vibrato, a richness to the tone. From fear is born beauty? At potluck that sabbath, all the members commented on how well I played the flute--they had previously been unaware of that ability. It was a good performance.
Later, when I was a student missionary in Majuro, I ended up as one of the church pianists, playing every other week. It was often a challenge because we wouldn't find out what hymns we were playing until the man at the pulpit announced it while asking the church to rise. Sometimes, I'd mess around with the hymn, altering chords or creating accompaniments to change it up a little so they wouldn't have to hear the stale old hymn again. They're beautiful songs, but not three times in two days. The variations didn't always work out. They were actually kind of hit and miss. But they were certainly different.
After church, once every two weeks, we'd have an SM potluck. I brought Mom's secret fruit salad because it was a hit every time. It was a bit on the expensive side, but that was a small price to pay to grade well. Approval is priceless. Why else do students cross any boundary to cheat on a test?
I've held to my principles and failed on tests before. It's hard to look a teacher in the eye after you've failed. The feeling lasts until the next time you pass. There are some teachers I still have trouble looking in the eye.
What's the difference between performing and serving?
There was a time, a service day freshman year, when a bunch of us pulled weeds at the fire station. We tried to get them all, but if you've ever tried to clear a dry and dead Morning Glory from a chain link fence, you'll know perfection is a little out of reach. We took frequent breaks as the firefighters gave us the grand tour, other volunteers brought lemonade, and photographers took pictures--after all, the college president was with us.
If we were being paid, I think our performance would have graded poorly, and would have reflected badly on the company. But wouldn't we both have done the same job?
Is your life a performance or a service?
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Random Driving
It was sabbath. I was driving my sister around in my Dad's car (which actually isn't his car in the real world). We were driving back and forth between a strip mall and a "no exit" road that led to a wooded area, in what was likely a large city park.
As it neared dark, I attempted to stop the car, but after it stopped, it then continued to roll back, even with my foot completely on the brake. It ran into a shopping cart, which cut right up the middle of the trunk, leaving a gash about halfway up. I then turned the car on, shifted into drive, and drove away, but then braking again, it stopped, then started rolling up an incline until it lightly hit a minivan, but the owners reached out of the window to stop our car and push us away.
The momentum from the push carried us out of the parking lot, and back on that country road. I hit the brakes, but again the car wouldn't stop, this time accelerating up a hill. It went right over a staircase railing set into concrete that was the beginning of a trail, and rolled up the hill until it hit something. I saw it crunch the back, and sitting in the back, peering out the left side of the rear window, I felt the crunch--or I thought I did--under the back of my seat, which my chest was pressed against.
We then drove forward, back over the railing, crunching the front badly, and down the stairs, and back to the mall. It was now darkish and the lot was empty. We rolled past an Orange Julius/Manchu Wok/something else in one outlet. I peered inside to see if the Manchu Wok had Chinese food, particularly fried rice, but all they had on the menu was Japanese noodles. Then I woke up.
As it neared dark, I attempted to stop the car, but after it stopped, it then continued to roll back, even with my foot completely on the brake. It ran into a shopping cart, which cut right up the middle of the trunk, leaving a gash about halfway up. I then turned the car on, shifted into drive, and drove away, but then braking again, it stopped, then started rolling up an incline until it lightly hit a minivan, but the owners reached out of the window to stop our car and push us away.
The momentum from the push carried us out of the parking lot, and back on that country road. I hit the brakes, but again the car wouldn't stop, this time accelerating up a hill. It went right over a staircase railing set into concrete that was the beginning of a trail, and rolled up the hill until it hit something. I saw it crunch the back, and sitting in the back, peering out the left side of the rear window, I felt the crunch--or I thought I did--under the back of my seat, which my chest was pressed against.
We then drove forward, back over the railing, crunching the front badly, and down the stairs, and back to the mall. It was now darkish and the lot was empty. We rolled past an Orange Julius/Manchu Wok/something else in one outlet. I peered inside to see if the Manchu Wok had Chinese food, particularly fried rice, but all they had on the menu was Japanese noodles. Then I woke up.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
A Eulogy
He died. He lived a tortured life, but at least he died with dignity. Screw it. NO ONE DIES WITH DIGNITY!!!
There. That's better.
Every time you avert your eyes when someone passes, you kill them. Every time you allow someone to sit by themselves at a meal, alone in a room full of friendship and love, you kill them. Every rejection, every day isolated from a world that is so near yet so far saps the life force out of a person, until all that is left is a walking corpse, a body which breathes, yes, and has blood coursing through its veins; but as dead as your great-grandparents buried in that cemetery on the top of the hill.
He didn't die last week. He died years ago. Last week was a mere reconciliation of soul and body.
Bodies need food, water, and sleep to survive. Souls need trust. Souls need acceptance. Souls need to be loved. It matters not whether a soul deserves these things, just as it matters not whether a body deserves food or water--these are basic needs of life.
A person dies, regardless of age, when their friends pass away to a different world, and they are left behind, misunderstood.
All people love. All people are good--that is, they start off that way. But just as starving people will steal bread a starving soul will steal love and turn defensive as all the survival instincts turn on.
So when it comes your turn to speak lovingly of this man, know that he didn't have to die. When you throw roses on the casket, and shovel dirt over the top, burying him out of sight and out of mind, know that you buried him years ago.
You killed him. And all the handwashing in the world will never change that fact.
Love one another. And don't let your ignorance be fatal again.
There. That's better.
Every time you avert your eyes when someone passes, you kill them. Every time you allow someone to sit by themselves at a meal, alone in a room full of friendship and love, you kill them. Every rejection, every day isolated from a world that is so near yet so far saps the life force out of a person, until all that is left is a walking corpse, a body which breathes, yes, and has blood coursing through its veins; but as dead as your great-grandparents buried in that cemetery on the top of the hill.
He didn't die last week. He died years ago. Last week was a mere reconciliation of soul and body.
Bodies need food, water, and sleep to survive. Souls need trust. Souls need acceptance. Souls need to be loved. It matters not whether a soul deserves these things, just as it matters not whether a body deserves food or water--these are basic needs of life.
A person dies, regardless of age, when their friends pass away to a different world, and they are left behind, misunderstood.
All people love. All people are good--that is, they start off that way. But just as starving people will steal bread a starving soul will steal love and turn defensive as all the survival instincts turn on.
So when it comes your turn to speak lovingly of this man, know that he didn't have to die. When you throw roses on the casket, and shovel dirt over the top, burying him out of sight and out of mind, know that you buried him years ago.
You killed him. And all the handwashing in the world will never change that fact.
Love one another. And don't let your ignorance be fatal again.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Life Lessons, Vol. I
Never cook spaghetti without first checking to see if you have any tomato sauce.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
A List for a Day
-Do a Calculus assignment.
-Consider buying new batteries for your calculator, which no longer turns on.
-Read the first half of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Take notes while doing so.
-Consider doing back-reading for Western Thought, particularly Wordsworth's Preface to Lyrical Poems and Rousseau's First Discourse, also taking notes.
-Read a chapter from three different religion textbooks.
-Check facebook, myspace, and email every half an hour, hoping someone messaged you/played their turn on Scrabulous/Scramble/Word Twist.
-Vacuum the house.
-Cook dinner.
-Eat dinner.
-Wash dishes.
-Plant flowers in the front and back yards.
-Practice Oboe.
-Practice Flute, Clarinet, and Alto Sax.
-Splice a video together and write background music for Composition class.
-Consider doing the next composition assignment, but probably postpone to tomorrow.
-Rehearse for the Prism Concert.
-Perform in the Prism Concert.
-Try to maintain some form of a social life at the Prism Concert by happily greeting friends before and after.
-Listen to an Oboe piece while following along with the score.
-Consider doing your laundry, but probably postpone to tomorrow.
-Write your weekly column about hockey.
-Set your fantasy baseball lineups for tomorrow.
-Make Cinnamon Roll dough and refrigerate to bake early tomorrow morning.
-Go to sleep early enough that you can get up early enough to bake the aforementioned Cinnamon Rolls.
-Consider buying new batteries for your calculator, which no longer turns on.
-Read the first half of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Take notes while doing so.
-Consider doing back-reading for Western Thought, particularly Wordsworth's Preface to Lyrical Poems and Rousseau's First Discourse, also taking notes.
-Read a chapter from three different religion textbooks.
-Check facebook, myspace, and email every half an hour, hoping someone messaged you/played their turn on Scrabulous/Scramble/Word Twist.
-Vacuum the house.
-Cook dinner.
-Eat dinner.
-Wash dishes.
-Plant flowers in the front and back yards.
-Practice Oboe.
-Practice Flute, Clarinet, and Alto Sax.
-Splice a video together and write background music for Composition class.
-Consider doing the next composition assignment, but probably postpone to tomorrow.
-Rehearse for the Prism Concert.
-Perform in the Prism Concert.
-Try to maintain some form of a social life at the Prism Concert by happily greeting friends before and after.
-Listen to an Oboe piece while following along with the score.
-Consider doing your laundry, but probably postpone to tomorrow.
-Write your weekly column about hockey.
-Set your fantasy baseball lineups for tomorrow.
-Make Cinnamon Roll dough and refrigerate to bake early tomorrow morning.
-Go to sleep early enough that you can get up early enough to bake the aforementioned Cinnamon Rolls.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Report: Colleges Rife with Performance-Enhancing Drugs
COLLEGE PLACE (AP)--Late at night, they gather. In darkly lit rooms, students cordon themselves off into booths that seat anywhere from two to five. A few do it solo.
Regardless of age, social status, or gender, they're all here for the same reason.
"Everyone else does it."
"I just want to keep up. Even the playing field, you know."
"With all the money that's at stake, wouldn't you do it?"
The rising cost of tuition has led many students to seek any advantage to help them get a better grade; and as a result, students are taking drugs previously tried only by the elderly and the terminally ill.
"When it's the difference between an A or a B, you've got to do it, every time."
The drug is caffeine, and the method of injection is coffee.
"Sometimes those few extra hours are just what you need to finish a paper before the deadline."
"I didn't come to college to become a coffee addict. One day, one of my friends was telling me about how much it had done for him, and offered to hook me up. It was nasty at first, but you could feel the difference when it came down to crunch time. It just gave me the edge that I needed."
The health effects of coffee have been debated. Most students feel the health risks are mild to non-existant.
"I understand that I'm treating my body poorly. But isn't drinking caffeine on par with eating too much chocolate? No one bothers me about chocolate."
The health community disagrees. A caffeine overdose can have serious consequences, resulting in muscle twitching, irregular heartbeat, mania, depression, hallucination, psychosis, and even death. Hospitalization may be required for as little as ten cups of coffee.
The actual performance effects are also debatable. Studies have shown that while caffeine may improve short-term memory when related to the subject at hand, it also reduces short-term memory for unrelated thoughts, leading to one-track papers.
Professors think that the results of coffee drinking are obvious.
"Grade inflation has been a serious problem in colleges for the past 20 years. How can we compare today's great students to the students of the past? You simply can't use the same standard of judgment." (Buster Stark)
"When those great students of the 90s came, scoring all those A's, I think we as professors were so overjoyed at the results that we ignored the coffee problem. The responsibility lies on us as educators for tolerating caffeine abuse for so long." (Pevey Gammons)
When confronted publicly, many students refuse to admit to coffee use on the record, unless confronted with hard evidence, such as finding Starbucks cups in students' garbage containers.
"I did not inject my body with that substance." (Will Clinton)
"I have never intentionally used coffee. Never. Ever. Period." (Donatello Palmeiro)
"The article said 50%. Well, I'm not one of them, so that's 49% right there." (Richard Henderson)
"I'm not here to talk about the past." (Matt McGwire)
"Half the students? Come on, I look around the classroom, and I don't see anybody with any signs of coffee use. I don't know of anyone who came back [from summer vacation] 20-30 points smarter." (Mavis Justice)
Others publicly admitted their coffee use in tearful press conferences.
"I didn't do it to try to get an edge on anyone. I didn't do it to try to get smarter or faster or think harder. I did it because I was told that it might be able to help me." (Randy Pettitte)
Randy's admittance to caffeine abuse has led to a strained relationship with former best friend Rocky Clemens, whose fiery denials of caffeinated beverage usage have been the most vehement to date.
"If I was a coffee drinker, I should have a third ear coming out of my forehead. I should be acing tests by just looking them over.
"Why didn't I keep doing it if it was so good for me? Why didn't I just break down? Why didn't my brain turn to dust?
"The higher you get up on the flagpole, the more your butt shows. I understand all that. But I'm tired of answering to 'em. That's probably why I will not ever attend school again. I don't want to answer to it. I want to slide off and be just a citizen."
One student who requested to remain anonymous believes that there's nothing wrong with drinking coffee. "Caffeine doesn't help you pass a test," he said. "I don't feel like a cheater."
Regardless of age, social status, or gender, they're all here for the same reason.
"Everyone else does it."
"I just want to keep up. Even the playing field, you know."
"With all the money that's at stake, wouldn't you do it?"
The rising cost of tuition has led many students to seek any advantage to help them get a better grade; and as a result, students are taking drugs previously tried only by the elderly and the terminally ill.
"When it's the difference between an A or a B, you've got to do it, every time."
The drug is caffeine, and the method of injection is coffee.
"Sometimes those few extra hours are just what you need to finish a paper before the deadline."
"I didn't come to college to become a coffee addict. One day, one of my friends was telling me about how much it had done for him, and offered to hook me up. It was nasty at first, but you could feel the difference when it came down to crunch time. It just gave me the edge that I needed."
The health effects of coffee have been debated. Most students feel the health risks are mild to non-existant.
"I understand that I'm treating my body poorly. But isn't drinking caffeine on par with eating too much chocolate? No one bothers me about chocolate."
The health community disagrees. A caffeine overdose can have serious consequences, resulting in muscle twitching, irregular heartbeat, mania, depression, hallucination, psychosis, and even death. Hospitalization may be required for as little as ten cups of coffee.
The actual performance effects are also debatable. Studies have shown that while caffeine may improve short-term memory when related to the subject at hand, it also reduces short-term memory for unrelated thoughts, leading to one-track papers.
Professors think that the results of coffee drinking are obvious.
"Grade inflation has been a serious problem in colleges for the past 20 years. How can we compare today's great students to the students of the past? You simply can't use the same standard of judgment." (Buster Stark)
"When those great students of the 90s came, scoring all those A's, I think we as professors were so overjoyed at the results that we ignored the coffee problem. The responsibility lies on us as educators for tolerating caffeine abuse for so long." (Pevey Gammons)
When confronted publicly, many students refuse to admit to coffee use on the record, unless confronted with hard evidence, such as finding Starbucks cups in students' garbage containers.
"I did not inject my body with that substance." (Will Clinton)
"I have never intentionally used coffee. Never. Ever. Period." (Donatello Palmeiro)
"The article said 50%. Well, I'm not one of them, so that's 49% right there." (Richard Henderson)
"I'm not here to talk about the past." (Matt McGwire)
"Half the students? Come on, I look around the classroom, and I don't see anybody with any signs of coffee use. I don't know of anyone who came back [from summer vacation] 20-30 points smarter." (Mavis Justice)
Others publicly admitted their coffee use in tearful press conferences.
"I didn't do it to try to get an edge on anyone. I didn't do it to try to get smarter or faster or think harder. I did it because I was told that it might be able to help me." (Randy Pettitte)
Randy's admittance to caffeine abuse has led to a strained relationship with former best friend Rocky Clemens, whose fiery denials of caffeinated beverage usage have been the most vehement to date.
"If I was a coffee drinker, I should have a third ear coming out of my forehead. I should be acing tests by just looking them over.
"Why didn't I keep doing it if it was so good for me? Why didn't I just break down? Why didn't my brain turn to dust?
"The higher you get up on the flagpole, the more your butt shows. I understand all that. But I'm tired of answering to 'em. That's probably why I will not ever attend school again. I don't want to answer to it. I want to slide off and be just a citizen."
One student who requested to remain anonymous believes that there's nothing wrong with drinking coffee. "Caffeine doesn't help you pass a test," he said. "I don't feel like a cheater."
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