So I'm here in Canada, for a Christmas at my Grandma's house with relatives. The trip was nice, and we got here in the early afternoon. I love to come here for the holidays, but there is one little problem. The computer I am using right now runs along at a steady 50kps with a dialup connection. The computer still runs Windows XP. And the browser I'm using? An old version of Internet Explorer. I doubt it has been updated for a very long time. So I'm trying to write a blogpost without spellcheck. Awesome. I was locked out of Facebook after not answering the questions correctly, but I'll try again in half an hour. Hopefully it will work, but there is no guarantee there. Actually, there is a very real possibilty that I won't be able to get back on a computer while I'm here. Sure, the seperation will be hard at first, but I'll get used to it eventually.
But here's the deal: I know exactly what is going to happen. By the morning I'll have completely forgot the internet and I'll be completely adjusted to the style here. This is the only time a year I'm able to see my relatives and it is indeed precious. And then there's the whole deal of being in a different, yet more civilized country. Everything from the difference in accents to the snow on the ground: it's clear that I'm not in Iowa anymore (yeah, I know, I'm a genius). Honestly, it's really nice to be back.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
Pride
I want to start off this post (or discourse, if you like) about pride, by blaming society. I really want to do so because it would be easy, and I could take a safe, third person perspective. But that wouldn't be right, because of all problems, one that almost everyone suffers with just a little bit is pride.
Although when you think of “Pride”, the first thing that comes to mind might be the fact that it is considered one of the “Seven Deadly Sins”. Now that being said, pride is not necessarily bad. For example, we can take pride in our allegiance to our nation (Canada for the win!), and we can take pride in doing good work. If I do something well, then I enjoy being acknowledged, and I am in return more than willing to acknowledge others. But this only goes to a point. To become too prideful ventures into the territory of being vain. Being humble means to go without praise or acknowledgment, and to do it willingly without any hesitation. Yet being humble is a very, very difficult thing to do because it relies more on one's attitude than one's words.
Part of the reason that rampant pride seen everywhere is that, since birth, we have been raised with the general notion that we can do what ever we put our minds to. Basically, the main thing holding us back is ourselves. Now this might be partly true, for as the saying goes "being a good programmer is 3% talent and 97% not being distracted by the internet". But at the same time, very often it is not mentally possible. Yes, mentally. The culture says that the mind has control over matter; basically, if we work really hard then something has to happen. But this leads us to having a false self-discipline. It's the same logic put to work in addictions; if one really wanted to stop, then they could. So we undertake tasks that are extremely difficult, and we fail. Usually it's our own fault, either we were not motivated or not disciplined enough. It's okay, the world moves on. But the false idea is in our head that we could have done it, if we had really tried. It just wasn't worth the effort. It can even become amusing to think about, actually. Failing again and again, but still not realizing the problem. Part of it might be that you just aren't cut out for it, but more likely than not a large portion of the problem is pride. If something doesn't come easy, then it isn't worth expending the energy to do it. Although we could, if we wanted. In our minds we have control, but yet really, we don't.
The following is an excerpt from C.S. Lewis's "The Screwtape Letters"
Except for a bit of a disclaimer at the beginning, I've portrayed pride as mostly a negative attribute. And at that, one that only effects one's attitude. But there is much more to pride than that. To have no pride in things can often be quite bad. Take for example peopling renting an apartment. Because they don't own it themselves, they are going to be a lot less responsible when it comes to taking care of things and making sure their animals don't make messes everywhere(assuming that the apartment allows, which some landlords found out too late can often be a bad idea). Or, think about government handouts. When money is given to you for essentially doing nothing, you are not going to be as responsible with it as you would be if you earned that money yourself.
Although when you think of “Pride”, the first thing that comes to mind might be the fact that it is considered one of the “Seven Deadly Sins”. Now that being said, pride is not necessarily bad. For example, we can take pride in our allegiance to our nation (Canada for the win!), and we can take pride in doing good work. If I do something well, then I enjoy being acknowledged, and I am in return more than willing to acknowledge others. But this only goes to a point. To become too prideful ventures into the territory of being vain. Being humble means to go without praise or acknowledgment, and to do it willingly without any hesitation. Yet being humble is a very, very difficult thing to do because it relies more on one's attitude than one's words.
Part of the reason that rampant pride seen everywhere is that, since birth, we have been raised with the general notion that we can do what ever we put our minds to. Basically, the main thing holding us back is ourselves. Now this might be partly true, for as the saying goes "being a good programmer is 3% talent and 97% not being distracted by the internet". But at the same time, very often it is not mentally possible. Yes, mentally. The culture says that the mind has control over matter; basically, if we work really hard then something has to happen. But this leads us to having a false self-discipline. It's the same logic put to work in addictions; if one really wanted to stop, then they could. So we undertake tasks that are extremely difficult, and we fail. Usually it's our own fault, either we were not motivated or not disciplined enough. It's okay, the world moves on. But the false idea is in our head that we could have done it, if we had really tried. It just wasn't worth the effort. It can even become amusing to think about, actually. Failing again and again, but still not realizing the problem. Part of it might be that you just aren't cut out for it, but more likely than not a large portion of the problem is pride. If something doesn't come easy, then it isn't worth expending the energy to do it. Although we could, if we wanted. In our minds we have control, but yet really, we don't.
The following is an excerpt from C.S. Lewis's "The Screwtape Letters"
You must therefore conceal from the patient the true end of Humility. Let him think of it not as self-forgetfulness but as a certain kind of opinion (namely, a low opinion) of his own talents and character. Some talents, I gather, he really has. Fix in his mind the idea that humility consists in trying to believe those talents to be less valuable than he believes them to be. No doubt they are in fact less valuable than he believes, but that is not the point. The great thing is to make him value an opinion for some quality other than truth, thus introducing an element of dishonesty and make-believe into the heart of what otherwise threatens to become a virtue. By this method thousands of humans have been brought to think that humility means pretty women trying to believe they are ugly and clever men trying to believe they are fools.If you were to ask me, I would say that it is the most prevalent form of false humility. It's not very often that you find someone so conceited that they openly boast about their many accomplishments all of the time. No, it is more likely that he would say it in a humble sort of way, not calling much attention to himself at all. But the thing is, though the outward appearance appears to be quite humble, inside that person is taking great pride in their humility. For they believe that they are in fact much better than what they described, but by not elaborating too much they have achieved humility. But the problem is in the mind. They still think that they are amazing at this sort of thing or that. By not talking about it all the time, the pride is only puffed up more and more. Take a personal example. Back in the day, when I was new to the Internet, I tried out some image-editing software, including the industry standard: Photoshop. I didn't actually do much with it, deeming it too complicated I settled for the simpler Paint.net. But you see, I still had it in my head that if I wanted to use Photoshop and do amazing things, I could. So when I saw other people edit images, I was a bit presumptuous. If all they did was raise one bar really high and call it good, then I was a bit arrogant when it came to my thoughts about that. Now this is silly because I was placing my skill above others just because I had the ability to use a program, even though I actually didn't use it. Now, it's true that since then I have done some rhotoscoping with some video-editing software, which is arguably more difficult and tedious. But the point is that I was arrogant in my mind about something I couldn't even do, though I wouldn't have actually said anything about it.
Except for a bit of a disclaimer at the beginning, I've portrayed pride as mostly a negative attribute. And at that, one that only effects one's attitude. But there is much more to pride than that. To have no pride in things can often be quite bad. Take for example peopling renting an apartment. Because they don't own it themselves, they are going to be a lot less responsible when it comes to taking care of things and making sure their animals don't make messes everywhere(assuming that the apartment allows, which some landlords found out too late can often be a bad idea). Or, think about government handouts. When money is given to you for essentially doing nothing, you are not going to be as responsible with it as you would be if you earned that money yourself.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Pride and Prejudice Is Finished
Which is actually kind of weird, considering the process by which I got to this point. I detested the dancing, and my entire philosophical outlook on life is contrary to the entire point of the play. I didn't expect much of the play, and for most of the practices that's what I got. It was cool being with friends, sure, but not amazing. Then came the week of dress rehearsals. Suddenly, everything was made real. We were no longer just a bunch of kids coming together to make a play. No, we were exactly what Mrs. Flatland wanted us to be: a team. From the eighth graders to the twelfth graders, we came together as one sentient being.
We were determined and focused, yet at the same time still relaxed. Let me tell you what I have no doubt will become one of my favorite stories to tell about the play. Besides my two dances, my main scene is one in which I play the card game whist in the background (fancy, eh?). At the second performance I was sitting at my table behind the curtain, waiting for the curtain to pull back and for my scene to come. And a minute or two before the appointed time, what happened? Mrs. Flatland, the director of the play, sat down on an adjoining chair and played a game of Crazy Eights with me (I won of course, but she beat me the next night). This struck me as so (excuse me for overusing the word) amazing. Instead of pulling the normal director routine of walking around agitated and anxious, our director was relaxed enough to use that valuable time playing a card game. Pretty cool.
And finally there was the cast party. After being super hyper most of Saturday afternoon, in the evening I got to settle down and become even more hyper. The cast party is yet one more place that I found evidence that we were indeed a team, even after the play was finished. In previous years people who knew each other well would hang out in groups and plays games, while the other people would just stand around a bit more awkwardly. Not so this year. There was a good fifty people at that cast party, and yet I could not find anyone not having a good time. That was just the kind of cast we were.
"Kind of cast we were". I guess I'm starting to acknowledge that the play is done. It certainly doesn't feel like that way. I wouldn't feel odd at all to show up next Tuesday for play practice as if nothing happened. But yet it has. So much has happened. If just a few little things had went wrong, the play would not be the amazing experience that I will forever remember it as. What if there had been no Rumpus Butterfly? What if I hadn't decided to go to the cast party? WHAT IF I HAD LOST MY CLAVICLE AND DIED? But those things didn't happen, and Pride and Prejudice will forever be awesome. In fact, I'm not even sure if next year's play (Shakespeare), will be able to hold up to the standard which Pride and Prejudice set. I dearly hope so. Also, a lot of the people who were in the play are also in Mock Trial. I can assure you that I can't wait for that :)
Monday, October 31, 2011
Halloween Must DIE
Last year when I had only begun blogging I made a post about Halloween. Basically the gist of it is that I think Halloween is a stupid holiday and that entertainment centered around fear is kind of dumb. Now I must admit it was a bit rough; I hardly ever, EVER use the words dumb and stupid. I think that there are usually much better words to convey my thoughts. But as you can see, I had made an exception in that case because I felt so strongly about the subject. I figure this post will be very similar to the one I wrote last year, though perhaps with a more amiable tongue.
When you first think of Halloween, what comes to your head? Trick or treat? Pumpkins? Gore, blood, and grotesque things of all shapes and sizes? No matter how much we might want for Halloween to be simply the time of year where strangers give out free candy, I'm sure you are familiar enough with the history of Halloween to know that it cannot stay restrained to putting on costumes and getting candy. I mean seriously, around this time I dread going into stores because I know that there will be tons of downright disgusting displays absolutely everywhere. I don't know about you, but disembodied body body parts really aren't appealing to me. Neither are skeletons, skulls, ghosts, witches, werewolves, etc. Do we really need a holiday glorifying such things?
I'm not saying that dressing up and going around town to get candy is bad (in fact, I bet it would be more fun as a teenager with friends than as a little kid). I just think that the entire holiday is flawed, and I am sensing no change towards the better. To the contrary, it seems to get drearier and drearier every year. Of course, it is possible that things are staying the same and I and as I get older I only began to see how wrong it is, but I digress. The entire "fear as entertainment thing" must be the first to go. Perhaps if I saw a shift away from the grotesqueness that so fills Halloween these days I might suppose that it is possible that there is a shred of hope for the holiday.
But, even if Halloween is indeed as flawed as I believe it is, would getting rid of it even help at this point? After all, even if Halloween is a partial root for all of this creepy nonsense at this time of year, it is ridiculous to assume that those things would wither away if Halloween was to die. And in the process, the only innocent part of Halloween (the candy) would also be gone. Many children live perfectly good lives without ever going trick or treating, but I must say that I'm sure that many families have pleasant memories of such things. But if it was likely that the atmosphere would change as a result, then I would be all for the removal of the holiday. However, as I have previously stated, it is not. Halloween, though I might like to shovel blame on it, is not the problem. It is what we make of it. Although the title of this post is "Halloween must DIE", the DIE part is mostly because I couldn't resist inserting it into the title. What Halloween really needs is a new direction. I hear that as some people begin to get the foolish impression that they have outgrown getting candy. Such thinking is of course preposterous, but the point is that when people get older I (think) that as a replacement Halloween centers more around costume parties than trick or treating. I of course have no idea if that is the right sort of direction that holiday should go or not, but I'm just mentioning it. Because I can. And no one can stop me. Ever. So to sum up, not everything is bad about Halloween, but some parts are beyond repair. Will I continue to boycott it anyway? Sure. But that's because I'm not a very logical fellow.
When you first think of Halloween, what comes to your head? Trick or treat? Pumpkins? Gore, blood, and grotesque things of all shapes and sizes? No matter how much we might want for Halloween to be simply the time of year where strangers give out free candy, I'm sure you are familiar enough with the history of Halloween to know that it cannot stay restrained to putting on costumes and getting candy. I mean seriously, around this time I dread going into stores because I know that there will be tons of downright disgusting displays absolutely everywhere. I don't know about you, but disembodied body body parts really aren't appealing to me. Neither are skeletons, skulls, ghosts, witches, werewolves, etc. Do we really need a holiday glorifying such things?
I'm not saying that dressing up and going around town to get candy is bad (in fact, I bet it would be more fun as a teenager with friends than as a little kid). I just think that the entire holiday is flawed, and I am sensing no change towards the better. To the contrary, it seems to get drearier and drearier every year. Of course, it is possible that things are staying the same and I and as I get older I only began to see how wrong it is, but I digress. The entire "fear as entertainment thing" must be the first to go. Perhaps if I saw a shift away from the grotesqueness that so fills Halloween these days I might suppose that it is possible that there is a shred of hope for the holiday.
But, even if Halloween is indeed as flawed as I believe it is, would getting rid of it even help at this point? After all, even if Halloween is a partial root for all of this creepy nonsense at this time of year, it is ridiculous to assume that those things would wither away if Halloween was to die. And in the process, the only innocent part of Halloween (the candy) would also be gone. Many children live perfectly good lives without ever going trick or treating, but I must say that I'm sure that many families have pleasant memories of such things. But if it was likely that the atmosphere would change as a result, then I would be all for the removal of the holiday. However, as I have previously stated, it is not. Halloween, though I might like to shovel blame on it, is not the problem. It is what we make of it. Although the title of this post is "Halloween must DIE", the DIE part is mostly because I couldn't resist inserting it into the title. What Halloween really needs is a new direction. I hear that as some people begin to get the foolish impression that they have outgrown getting candy. Such thinking is of course preposterous, but the point is that when people get older I (think) that as a replacement Halloween centers more around costume parties than trick or treating. I of course have no idea if that is the right sort of direction that holiday should go or not, but I'm just mentioning it. Because I can. And no one can stop me. Ever. So to sum up, not everything is bad about Halloween, but some parts are beyond repair. Will I continue to boycott it anyway? Sure. But that's because I'm not a very logical fellow.
Monday, October 24, 2011
My Life
I was thinking about life again. I don't know about you, but as a teenager when I think about life, I think about the future. What college I will go to. What job I will get. If I can manage to move back to Canada before the U.S. economy completely explodes. All important things to be sure, but I realized that it isn't often that I think about my early childhood. Except for the occasional wave of nostalgia, I never really try to remember it that often. That is why I am taking this opportunity to write a bit of a record of my life before I moved to Iowa. The real reason for this post is actually not for me to remember right now, though that is nice. No, it's for for the future. I remember many aspects of my childhood fairly clearly now, but will that always be the case? After all, many others are beginning to get fuzzy. I would hate to lose those memories.
I was born in Quito, Ecuador, where my parents were missionaries. We left when I was two years old, so sadly I have no memory of the trip at all. We moved to Pinawa, Manitoba, my dad's hometown. We lived there for a couple of years, and because I was still pretty young I remember very little. Then we moved to Ottawa, Ontario, the capital of Canada. Actually, it is more complicated than that. Technically we lived just outside the Osgoode Township, which (somehow) was part of the city of Ottawa, though we were technically a thirty minute drive away. I still don't really understand all of it though; it was kind of confusing.
As a young child I was actually kind of normal. I enjoyed sports, and I was decent in them. I only played competitively once (little league baseball), but I liked playing pick-up sports with friends. It wasn't until I was 8 years old or so that I started playing video games: a shiny Gameboy Advance. I was a very social person back then, playing with friends whenever possible. Now the thing is that it wasn't always possible, so I didn't actually hang out with friends as often as I would have liked. I wasn't involved in many activities except AWANA and Church, so I was at home a lot. My father had constructed what we called "the play structure" in our back yard. It was a two-story playhouse surrounded by a giant sandbox. The first floor consisted of a counter and a bench. To reach the second floor you had to climb a wooden ladder. At the top there was a deck surrounding an inner room which had shingles and a steering wheel, effectively making the entire structure a giant imaginary ship. To exit the play structure there was a fireman's pole, a yellow slide, and a zip line. The zip line was a later addition, and I can tell you right now it was awesome.
Because we lived in a very rural area, there was a large wood behind our house; a place which I enjoyed exploring. Each of the children in my family: me, my older sister, younger brother found a small section of the wood which we could safely claim as "ours". Mine was a small clearing, perhaps a 12x12 (in feet) square . There was a nice large boulder in my section, which I rested my sticks on. Oh, my sticks. I had two primary ones, I believe. A long thin one (I recall it resembling a spear), and one that was nice and sturdy; yet not too bulky. I loved that stick.
We had dial-up internet, and for some reason we were limited to only using 20 hours a month. This time was usually used to quickly find a game we could download and play offline. Of course, there was one game I played on the internet. It's a little thing called Neopets, an online virtual word where you can take care of virtual pets. The silly thing? It's pretty awesome. It has a fully functional economy with a stock market, various trading centers, an ingenious full-fledged battling system, thousands upon thousands of items, hundreds of games (most of the games were short flash ones, but they do have two RPGs that are each a good 25 hours long). When I had a chance I would sometimes play on library computers. I actually didn't play much when I was young, but I did end up playing that game a lot later in jr. high and early highschool, so it does have significance.
We had relatives, though we hardly ever visited them. The family on my Dad's side lived in the general surrounding area of Pinawa, Manitoba, which if you have good memory skills is where I lived for a few years when I was three and four. This was a three-day drive from where I lived, so I think we only ended up visiting them three or four times (though ironically, after moving to Iowa, we are now only a 1.5 days away, so we visit them every Christmas) . The family on my mom's side live in Oregon, and the last time I visited them was when I was two years old.
Although it wasn't for a few years that I picked a favorite hockey team, when I decided to choose the Toronto Maple Leafs (who are still my favorite team, by the way) it was solely because when I first watched them playing on television, they were wearing white. So I figured that they were the good guys. Now this put me in quite a spot with everyone else I knew. You see, the cities Toronto and Ottawa have always had a bit of a rivalry. For while Ottawa is the capital of Canada, Toronto is the capital of Ontario, the province which both reside in. This rivalry eventually found its way to sports. While Ottawa has the Ottawa Senators, Toronto has the Toronto Maple Leafs. Thus it was quite uncommon for people living in Ottawa (kind of) to be supporting Toronto's hockey team.
I've been homeschooled all my life, but we didn't have much in the way of homeschool assistance programs in Canada. For one year there was a thing called CHEER, but I have almost no memory of it because it was soon discontinued. All I remember is that it was at held at our church for some reason, and that I did some sort of French thing. But I was maybe six years old, so not much was really taught. A few years later a few families would get together once a week and I think we played chess, or something? And I vaguely remember there being some sort of science part of it as well.... But I never really had any real classes ; it was mostly just a few people hanging out.
To come to a climax of this story, when I was 10 we moved to Iowa, and from there I became the boring and pessimistic teenager I am today. So I looked through this post again after the rough draft (hehe, I have time for those now that I'm not in a competition), and I noticed that though the rough draft was filled with some pretty cool stuff, while in the completed version there is tons of boring things added in. Oh well. Also, I found that my writing style was really, really repetitive. But I'm too lazy to correct that.
I was born in Quito, Ecuador, where my parents were missionaries. We left when I was two years old, so sadly I have no memory of the trip at all. We moved to Pinawa, Manitoba, my dad's hometown. We lived there for a couple of years, and because I was still pretty young I remember very little. Then we moved to Ottawa, Ontario, the capital of Canada. Actually, it is more complicated than that. Technically we lived just outside the Osgoode Township, which (somehow) was part of the city of Ottawa, though we were technically a thirty minute drive away. I still don't really understand all of it though; it was kind of confusing.
As a young child I was actually kind of normal. I enjoyed sports, and I was decent in them. I only played competitively once (little league baseball), but I liked playing pick-up sports with friends. It wasn't until I was 8 years old or so that I started playing video games: a shiny Gameboy Advance. I was a very social person back then, playing with friends whenever possible. Now the thing is that it wasn't always possible, so I didn't actually hang out with friends as often as I would have liked. I wasn't involved in many activities except AWANA and Church, so I was at home a lot. My father had constructed what we called "the play structure" in our back yard. It was a two-story playhouse surrounded by a giant sandbox. The first floor consisted of a counter and a bench. To reach the second floor you had to climb a wooden ladder. At the top there was a deck surrounding an inner room which had shingles and a steering wheel, effectively making the entire structure a giant imaginary ship. To exit the play structure there was a fireman's pole, a yellow slide, and a zip line. The zip line was a later addition, and I can tell you right now it was awesome.
Because we lived in a very rural area, there was a large wood behind our house; a place which I enjoyed exploring. Each of the children in my family: me, my older sister, younger brother found a small section of the wood which we could safely claim as "ours". Mine was a small clearing, perhaps a 12x12 (in feet) square . There was a nice large boulder in my section, which I rested my sticks on. Oh, my sticks. I had two primary ones, I believe. A long thin one (I recall it resembling a spear), and one that was nice and sturdy; yet not too bulky. I loved that stick.
We had dial-up internet, and for some reason we were limited to only using 20 hours a month. This time was usually used to quickly find a game we could download and play offline. Of course, there was one game I played on the internet. It's a little thing called Neopets, an online virtual word where you can take care of virtual pets. The silly thing? It's pretty awesome. It has a fully functional economy with a stock market, various trading centers, an ingenious full-fledged battling system, thousands upon thousands of items, hundreds of games (most of the games were short flash ones, but they do have two RPGs that are each a good 25 hours long). When I had a chance I would sometimes play on library computers. I actually didn't play much when I was young, but I did end up playing that game a lot later in jr. high and early highschool, so it does have significance.
We had relatives, though we hardly ever visited them. The family on my Dad's side lived in the general surrounding area of Pinawa, Manitoba, which if you have good memory skills is where I lived for a few years when I was three and four. This was a three-day drive from where I lived, so I think we only ended up visiting them three or four times (though ironically, after moving to Iowa, we are now only a 1.5 days away, so we visit them every Christmas) . The family on my mom's side live in Oregon, and the last time I visited them was when I was two years old.
Although it wasn't for a few years that I picked a favorite hockey team, when I decided to choose the Toronto Maple Leafs (who are still my favorite team, by the way) it was solely because when I first watched them playing on television, they were wearing white. So I figured that they were the good guys. Now this put me in quite a spot with everyone else I knew. You see, the cities Toronto and Ottawa have always had a bit of a rivalry. For while Ottawa is the capital of Canada, Toronto is the capital of Ontario, the province which both reside in. This rivalry eventually found its way to sports. While Ottawa has the Ottawa Senators, Toronto has the Toronto Maple Leafs. Thus it was quite uncommon for people living in Ottawa (kind of) to be supporting Toronto's hockey team.
I've been homeschooled all my life, but we didn't have much in the way of homeschool assistance programs in Canada. For one year there was a thing called CHEER, but I have almost no memory of it because it was soon discontinued. All I remember is that it was at held at our church for some reason, and that I did some sort of French thing. But I was maybe six years old, so not much was really taught. A few years later a few families would get together once a week and I think we played chess, or something? And I vaguely remember there being some sort of science part of it as well.... But I never really had any real classes ; it was mostly just a few people hanging out.
To come to a climax of this story, when I was 10 we moved to Iowa, and from there I became the boring and pessimistic teenager I am today. So I looked through this post again after the rough draft (hehe, I have time for those now that I'm not in a competition), and I noticed that though the rough draft was filled with some pretty cool stuff, while in the completed version there is tons of boring things added in. Oh well. Also, I found that my writing style was really, really repetitive. But I'm too lazy to correct that.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
If I Die Young
A song that I have found particularly haunting and thought provoking is "If I Die Young", by The Band Perry.
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
Uh oh, uh oh
Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother
She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and
Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby
The sharp knife of a short life, oh well
I've had, just enough time
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a, bed of roses
Sink me in the river, at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
The sharp knife of a short life well
I've had just enough time
And I'll be wearing white when I come into Your Kingdom
I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger,
I've never known the loving of a man
But it sure felt nice when he was holdin' my hand
there's a boy here in town says that he'll love me forever
Whoever thought forever could be severed by
The sharp knife of a short life oh Well,
I've had just enough time
So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls
what I never did is done
A penny for my thoughts,
Oh no,
I'll sell em' for a dollar
They're worth so much more after I'm a goner
and maybe then you'll hear the words I've been singing
funny when you're dead how people start listenin'
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a, bed of roses
Sink me in the river, at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
Uh oh (uh, oh)
The ballad of a dove (uh, oh)
Go with peace and love
Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket
Save them for a time when you're really gonna need 'em, oh
The sharp knife of a short life, oh well
I've had just enough time
So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls
Press "Read more" to read my thoughts on the song (I didn't want to mess up the home page with a super lengthy post)
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
Uh oh, uh oh
Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother
She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and
Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby
The sharp knife of a short life, oh well
I've had, just enough time
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a, bed of roses
Sink me in the river, at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
The sharp knife of a short life well
I've had just enough time
And I'll be wearing white when I come into Your Kingdom
I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger,
I've never known the loving of a man
But it sure felt nice when he was holdin' my hand
there's a boy here in town says that he'll love me forever
Whoever thought forever could be severed by
The sharp knife of a short life oh Well,
I've had just enough time
So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls
what I never did is done
A penny for my thoughts,
Oh no,
I'll sell em' for a dollar
They're worth so much more after I'm a goner
and maybe then you'll hear the words I've been singing
funny when you're dead how people start listenin'
If I die young, bury me in satin
Lay me down on a, bed of roses
Sink me in the river, at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
Uh oh (uh, oh)
The ballad of a dove (uh, oh)
Go with peace and love
Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket
Save them for a time when you're really gonna need 'em, oh
The sharp knife of a short life, oh well
I've had just enough time
So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls
Press "Read more" to read my thoughts on the song (I didn't want to mess up the home page with a super lengthy post)
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
The Pear Dilemma
Between the towns of Lisbon and Mount Vernon, there is a bike path on the shoulder of the road connecting the two towns. Finding that route most convenient, I've biked down this path several times in the last few days when I had things to attend to in Mount Vernon. But you see, there is a nice large pear tree hanging over the head of anyone who might pass by. And as one would expect, a few pears have fallen onto the path. One pear in particular sits right side up in the middle of the path, daring any passerby to eat just a bite.
Now I'll admit, you probably have no idea why I'm referring to this as a "dilemma". After all, who considers eating a pear off of the ground, especially when there are plenty of other ones right above it still on the tree? (We won't get into the ethical ramifications of stealing pairs off of trees) But sadly, I have no concept of "germs". So this wayward pear looked, quite frankly, quite tasty. Remember that ever time I come across this pear I've usually been biking for awhile, so if not tired I'm at least a little hungry. What better way to satisfy this most basic of human needs than by eating a conveniently placed pear?
After I pass the pear, I notice another one just a few feet past it, with a chunk missing (probably from animals) and inside it was all rotten. Do I gamble on the hope that the other pear is perfectly fine to eat, or do I take heedence from the rotten pear, and just leave it alone. To tell you the truth, I would like nothing more than to take just a small bite of that pear. Just a tiny one. If underneath the skin it was perfectly fine, I would continue to eat the entire pear, for surely no one else would want it. And if it was indeed rotten, I would spit out what I had eaten, and throw the pear away.
Yet each and every time I ride my bike past this pear, and I don't even look back. Now the not looking back part might be for safety reasons (Safety? What?), but the pear stays in my mind. It takes hold of it, in fact. My mind urges my body to turn around my bike and try the pear. After all, the worst thing that could happen is it that I have a bad taste in my mouth for a moment or two. I know that I would quickly forget the possibly awful taste, and I know that surely allowing my curiosity to be sated would be worth it. Or would it? Or is that the point of the Dilemma of the Pear? To see if I can allow myself to act on my curiosity?
Well, this is kind of random. But you know what? That's okay. AND IT COUNTS ABBY. Oh wait, what? We aren't in the competition anymore and I don't have to be worried about the size or quality of my posts? Cool.
Now I'll admit, you probably have no idea why I'm referring to this as a "dilemma". After all, who considers eating a pear off of the ground, especially when there are plenty of other ones right above it still on the tree? (We won't get into the ethical ramifications of stealing pairs off of trees) But sadly, I have no concept of "germs". So this wayward pear looked, quite frankly, quite tasty. Remember that ever time I come across this pear I've usually been biking for awhile, so if not tired I'm at least a little hungry. What better way to satisfy this most basic of human needs than by eating a conveniently placed pear?
After I pass the pear, I notice another one just a few feet past it, with a chunk missing (probably from animals) and inside it was all rotten. Do I gamble on the hope that the other pear is perfectly fine to eat, or do I take heedence from the rotten pear, and just leave it alone. To tell you the truth, I would like nothing more than to take just a small bite of that pear. Just a tiny one. If underneath the skin it was perfectly fine, I would continue to eat the entire pear, for surely no one else would want it. And if it was indeed rotten, I would spit out what I had eaten, and throw the pear away.
Yet each and every time I ride my bike past this pear, and I don't even look back. Now the not looking back part might be for safety reasons (Safety? What?), but the pear stays in my mind. It takes hold of it, in fact. My mind urges my body to turn around my bike and try the pear. After all, the worst thing that could happen is it that I have a bad taste in my mouth for a moment or two. I know that I would quickly forget the possibly awful taste, and I know that surely allowing my curiosity to be sated would be worth it. Or would it? Or is that the point of the Dilemma of the Pear? To see if I can allow myself to act on my curiosity?
Well, this is kind of random. But you know what? That's okay. AND IT COUNTS ABBY. Oh wait, what? We aren't in the competition anymore and I don't have to be worried about the size or quality of my posts? Cool.
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