Sweet (and Stuff)

Found yet another interesting article on Salon.com. Dude, this idea seems pretty sweet. Especially for our ADHD, "give it to me now" generation.

On the "Infodict" (that's "information addict" shortened, better, once again, for the ADHD, "give it to me now" mentality :) ) front, I'm slowly weening myself from reading everything that I come across that looks interesting. Not quite giving up the entire interweb / infoweb completely, but definitely using some major moderation. And I find myself asking myself the question, "Do I REALLY need to read this?" much more.

Congrats to the Hi-Q team on getting our act together. Well, everyone pretty much already had their act together. I just finally got mine together. Here's to a sweet year.

And what's up with this new fangled AIM. It has WAY too many bells and whistles. Like, seriously.

Namaste.

Quote of the Day -- "We definitely support any dissident groups that "oppose" (my quotations) Fidel Castro and are willing to remove him from power." - Random Senator at Model Senate on a bill he drafted

Good News, Bad News

The good news first. We got out of Concert Band 10 minutes early today. Score!

The bad news is that we got our early because Chichester's High School Concert Band sucks major balls. Not all of it. I highly appreciate everyone that doesn't, which includes all the seniors, most of the juniors, and very, very few of the Sophomores and Freshmen.

Maybe I'll elucidate later. Probably not.

Anyway, don't insult Mr. Miller. I knew Mr. Miller. I worked with Mr. Miller, and you sir, are no Mr. Miller.

Wow, can I get pissy. Though I'm not really pissy. I just get this way because it's fun to do every once in a while.

Om.

Because I'm not fasting yet...

Most people of today use reason without really knowing the ontogenetic stages that produced it -- namely, the stages of sensorimotor, preop, conop, and then formop. It is simply not immediately obvious to reason that reason itself developed or evolved. And yet reason is the first structure that can impartially reflect on the world. Thus, the natural stance of reason is to simply assume that it is apart from the world and can innocently reflect on it.

-- Sex, Ecology, and Spirituality

Dude, this guy makes me believe in transrational (ie mystical) realities more and more every day. I don't know if his theory is just one big illusion (my "rational" mind would like me to believe so), but if it is, it is a beautiful one to look at. Seventeen years of going Church has taught me less about spirit than Ken Wilber has in half a year.

What can I say. I'm a big fan.

Namaste.

Addicted to Information?

Last night, I was reading of Sex, Ecology, and Spirituality, and I came across lots of interesting topics, namely mysticism from the classical world (like the works of Plato, Plotinus, St. Augustine, Meister Eckhart, etc.). I proceeded to go onto Amazon and look up these books. I put them on my ever burgeoning wish list which now contains 95 books I "want" to read, spanning from September 2004. And then I got this strange, giddy elation. As if the information in these books would somehow open worlds to me. Almost, dare I say, a "high."

Today, I went online and went through my usual "Integral" websites, a number of which may be found on the side panel of Generation Sit under the title "blogroll." I read through all the entries, then went to Salon.com, Slate.com, and Wired.com. I browsed through my e-mails (33 today), at least 10 of which are inspirational quotes, religious excerpts, and motivational information. I then went to Integral Naked and watched the latest videos, with plans of listening to the latest audio offerings sometime soon.

Over break, I read through several books, ranging from general philosophy (The Simple Feeling of Being) to motivational / "self-help" texts(The Seven Habits).

What's my point? Why'd I just drag you through a dull day or so in the life of me? I'm going to put this out there. And you can take it or leave it. But I think I'm addicted to information. In a bad way.

I'm not trying to be a Luddite or anything. The web is an amazing resource. A stunningly great way to be in the know, to help humanity, to spread good, truth, and beauty. But for me personally, is it acting as some sort of drug? I wonder if the future of humanity is to be found in this aether (word to the Old School spelling!), this land that doesn't even exist. Is this (the internet) all there is?

And what happens when I try to find out if "This is all there is"? When I'm not chasing after relative information, what's my next choice? No matter how corny it sounds, there's only one way to put it: "enlightenment." In a way, my journey is just a glorified search for information. The Information that Spawns all Information. The unwrittable writer. The Big E.

Is all this searching getting in my way? All this philosophy, thinking, reading? What has it accomplished? Here. Now.

Sometimes I feel like its all just a big joke. I guess it's better to be trapped into wanting information, rather than drugs, sex, thrills, or any of the other things people became sucked into. I guess.

But it does seem to be getting in the way of my life; in the way of me being a teenager. You know, shouldn't I be driving like an idiot, making out with chicks, and drinking? Isn't that what this part of my life is for? ;)

Or more importantly, is it getting in the way of me being useful to the world? If I'm always the Consumer, then I'm never the Producer. If all I ever do is read, listen, and sit silently, what have I added to the world at large? What part of the suffering have I relieved? How have I made this world, the only one I have, better?

Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ didn't deal with these issues until his mid thirties. Same with the Buddha. I guess that's what I pay for living in this world of Instant Messaging, Instant Meals, and Instant Gratification in general.

Mabye I should go on a fast. An information fast. Go without any interweb, books, television, music or anything outside myself for a week. Maybe that'll help me figure this out. Or maybe I'll go crazy in the process.

Yeah, maybe.

A Dig Into the Memory Vault

Yesterday, at band, the topic of Concert Band from the middle school was broached. So, today I was thinking and decided to post our Hershey Competition (yeah, the good one) on Multiply.

All I have to say is, yes, we haven't played one good song since Middle School Concert Band. And damn did we sound good. What happened? Oh, yeah, Mr. Miller left. :(

Enjoy.

PS -- I'm thinking about posting our Jazz Band performance from 8th grade as well. Not today. Maybe next weekend.

Laugh and Weep

Man is the only animal that laughs and weeps, for he is the only animal that is struck with the difference between what things are and what they ought to be.
-- William Hazlitt

Feeling: Out of this World

I have this really weird feeling of lightness right now. Not necessarily good or bad lightness. Just a general feeling of not really being here.

Don't know why I felt like posting that. But why do anything, right?

Heh, no, I'm not high. Just as close as I can get without the drugs. ;)

Namaste.

P.S. If you need to know what "namaste" means, ask Laura, because she's awesome. :)

Purty Lyrics

I Will Follow You Into the Dark by Death Cab for Cutie

Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles brusied by a lady in black
And I held my tongue as she told me
"Son fear is the heart of love"
So I never went back

If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

You and me have seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
It's nothing to cry about
Cause we'll hold each other soon
The blackest of rooms

If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
Then I'll follow you into the dark

Yahweh is a Volcano God? Who Knew!

I was reading through Sex, Ecology, and Spirituality (great book, I highly recommend), and I came across this assertion by the author:

"[The Hebrew God] was, through and through, a mythic-level production: a geocentric, egocentric, anthropocentric local volcano god..."

Okay, I could agree with all those things except for the whole "volcano god" idea. I'd never heard of that part before. Then I did a little bit of "research" (and by research, I mean I googled "yahweh volcano god"), and came up with this article: Yahweh. It's definitely worth reading, but I'll highlight the interesting part about volcano gods:

"The Israelites had to physically leave Egypt to worship Yahweh. They could not, under any circumstances, worship Him in Egypt, because they could not even see him there. Exodus is very specific as to what they had to see: "They took their journey from Succoth and encamped at Etham, in the edge of the wilderness. The Lord Yahweh went before them by day in a pillar of a cloud, to lead them the way; and by night in a pillar of fire, to give them light; to go by day and night (Exodus 13:21)." This is a clear and simple description of an active volcano- - smoke by day, fire by night.

Then, to fully prove this assumption, they gathered around this mountain, and were told that they were never to climb or touch it, on danger of death. "Take heed to yourselves, that ye go not up into the mount, or touch the border of it: whosoever touchesth the mount shall be surely put to death (Exodus 19:12)." The mountain must have been dangerously hot to the touch. The passage continues: "And mount Sinai was altogether on a smoke, because the Lord Yahweh descended upon it in fire: and the smoke thereof ascended as the smoke of a furnace, and the whole mount quaked greatly." Another clear description of an active volcano. And at this emotionally impressive location Moses gave the Israelites a Code of Law, and reforged a covenant which was to become the basis for the development of monotheism."¹

Well then, apparently the bible warrants a closer reading. But at least now I know what allusion to do for my Allusion Card for AP English.

Namaste.

¹ Not that I'm trying to dismiss Judaism, or any other mythic religion (as long as it was made at or before the Axial Age). The volcano god is simply a mythic level interpretation of the world. In fact, at that time, that was a rather high level of interpretation. Therefore, Let he who is innocent cast the first stone. By this, I mean I hope that thousands of years from now, when people are quantum leaps ahead of us in cognitive development, they will look back on our "foolish rationalism" with some sympathy and understanding.

Well, Hello There

Don't really have much to add. As of late, I've been doing major mindfulness practice in everyday life. As in, I've been looking at when, where, what, and why I do things. It's really an eye opening experience. It taught me things like: I spend way too much time consuming information and far too little producing it; I can very easily get off task if I'm not paying attention; half the time I don't even know why I'm doing things; and many many more things.

Not all that useful to you. Moderately useful to me. Just thought I'd share.

Enjoy this weekend. Time off is a great, beautiful, delicious, great thing.

Namaste.

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving, all.

At this beautifully unique moment (the only one of its kind), the best thing I can share is this: In Breath, Out Breath. Just this.

Namaste.

Change Artist Quotes

"When every evening is New Year’s Eve and every day you awaken is New Year’s Day, you are living life as it was intended." -- Bernie Siegel

"Composer John Cage once said that paralysis often comes from not knowing where to begin. When the issues we face seem too daunting, consider his suggestion: 'Begin anywhere.'" -- From Massive Change

Groan Sound...

Let me warn you: this, chances are, is going to make very little sense. And on that note, I proceed.

I'm in a little bit of a funk. Not just today, but in general. Not necessarily a bad funk. But a funky funk. The kind of funk that makes you sit there and go: dude, this sure is a funk. You know that kind of funk?

And in that funk, I feel like I'm stuck. But I suppose that'd be the definition of a funk. I feel like I'm running, but instead of going towards the horizon (which at least gives the illusion of approaching me for my efforts), I'm running on a treadmill: there isn't even the illusion of progress. Everything just is, and I am. And that's all that I know. And that's all there is. No point. No goal. Very "existential." Very bitchy.

But while this whole "funkiness" is going on, I've been incubating an idea about being a change artist. The idea goes something like this: the universe itself is a creative force. Everything is constantly changing. Nothing stays the same. Equilibrium is death. No moment (however YOU define a moment [yes, that was for you Ed]) is exactly the same. There have been trillions of trillions of novel moments since the Big Bang. Maybe a few more before then. But the point is that change and the universe are synonymous.

And if change is what the universe is about, and if I contain the universe in myself, shouldn't I be a change-ist. Someone that is constantly testing the stormy seas, constantly going for the brass (gold?) ring. Shouldn't change be my purpose in life? Change, in the name of Love, of course. But change nevertheless.

I haven't fleshed out this whole change artist thing yet. It's just like everything else in my life: I find it much more exciting to think about than to actually do it. I'm so f-ing addicted to dreaming about things instead of doing them. It's got to be pathological. I don't know what they call it, but I'm sure they call it something.

And now that I've gotten all this bitching out of the way, do I know what tomorrow is? It's mother f-ing Thanksgiving. The day I give thanks for everything. I don't usually do Thanksgiving all that well. I just kinda eat the food (food I don't especially enjoy), have fun with the family, and enjoy the time off. And then the next day I just plunge into the great unknown, or more often than not, sit on the shores of the great unknown and pick my nose. What the f.

How beautiful is existence? How beautiful is my life? How beautiful is this universe I call home. I'll tell you right now: it's infinitely beautiful. And I don't stop to see that anywhere near enough. It's a f-ing amazing place. And I'm lucky to be a part of it, now. The only time I could ever be a part of it: now.

But at the same time, aching in the back of my mind, is this feeling of jizzing all my energy away in some sort of great spiritual masturbation. I read a great poem at Slate.com called "Self-Portrait, Masturbating." I've never summed up how I feel about my life at this moment better than that. Here it is, thanks to Mr. Steve Gehrke.

Self-Portrait, Masturbating by Steve Gehrke

Here he is again, distracted, lonely,
pulling at the doll-strings of desire,

fingering his sheet music of moans,
whispers, his holy name, the whole choir

trying to sing the body from its cave,
to ignite the risen body into flames,

though the self, to flee its own decay,
must be beaten, must bloody the reins,

which is why he collapses on the spill-
cloth when he's done, his body half-exhumed

from the mirror, the painting like a meal
half-eaten on the canvas, sloppy, ungroomed,

his eyes deadened, pupils like swatted flies,
and the opened robe swanning from his sides.

Holy poo, there it is in black and white. But God is my life so much better than it has been. Life is beautiful, fun, joyful, and kickass.

And still I find time to bitch. :)

Guess the Religion!

After a nice trip to the University of Pennsylvania's Museum of Archeology and Anthropology, some people have asked me to put up a website that questions you and then offers you your "optimum" fate. This can be found at Beliefnet.

I figure in the name of intellectual honesty, I'll post my results. They are as follows (the top ten, anyway):

1. Unitarian Universalism (100%)
2. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (96%)
3. Mahayana Buddhism (95%)
4. Neo-Pagan (93%)
5. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (92%)
6. Liberal Quakers (88%)
7. New Age (88%)
8. New Thought (88%)
9. Theravada Buddhism (84%)
10. Taoism (83%)

Those results make sense. Kinda.

Yeah, sorry, not really feeling like thinking all that much today. More like just being a sponge. I'm uber tired. Does it show?

If you feel so moved, feel free to take the quiz and post your results here.

Namaste.

Non-Philosophy Post (Woo Hoo!)

I'm going to take the day off from philosophy and instead tell a funny story with a good point.

Last week in AP English, Ms. Hanobeck was teaching us about William Shakespeare's sonnets. As she went through the different numbers and what they related to, she came to the last few, numbers 127 through 152, which are about a "Dark Lady." Then this dialogue ensued:

Hanobeck: Some people say that the Dark Lady is African American. Or, I guess she'd be African English? Hm, I don't know the right to say what she is...

Me: (rolling eyes) Black, maybe?

Hanobeck: (gives evil look)

Yeah, if there's one thing I can't stand, it's someone that is overly PC (politically correct). In Japan, they have a word for the process of being PC: kotobagari. So I say, don't be a kotobagarist! Being PC doesn't make you a better person and using euphemisms instead of real words doesn't make the world a better place. If you're going to be compassionate, don't be idiotically compassionate.

And now I'm done with my rant. I hope that you at least got a chuckle out of it.

PS -- Hm, maybe this is why Ms. Hanobeck thinks I'm close minded. Silly her.

Cognitive Development

You know, if I didn't want to go into physics, one of my other top choices, next to a life as a monk, would involve psychology. In the past year, I've learned a lot about psychology that I would have never even thought possible. Here's one of these more interesting points in terms of developmental psychology. What you can think changes as you age!

It seems rather intuitive once you hear it, but I never really thought of it until I saw the idea for the first time. As you go through different stages of development, you literally open up whole new worlds to explore. Just as a 5 year old child could never understand that two glasses may have different heights but the same volume, who knows what level of knowledge we can't even see. To believe that the rational mode of the thought is the highest level of development is a major form of rationalcentrism. That's exactly what every other group that reached the "pinnacle" of their modes of seeing the world thought.
Seriously, why would it stop there?
Just think of all the worlds out there to explore if we'll just continue to grow. Holy Fuck.

Speaking of holy, transpersonal psychologists claim that spiritual realizations exist at levels of development beyond the rational (ie formal operational) mode of thought. And who's to say they're wrong? The only way to find out is to take up a spiritual practice and dig in. Just like a child couldn't possibly see, let alone understand, the idea of imaginary numbers, perhaps a person stuck at the rational stage of development couldn't possibly see nor understand the concept of Emptiness, the Absolute, etc. No matter what, though, it's fun to think of staunch rationalists like Richard Dawkin's as a temper-tantruming child.

PS I realize that much of the world's religions are based on mythology, and limitting mythology at that. Such thought probably came about as a result of developing through that level of cognitivie capacity and a negligence to transcend said level. The variety of spirituality / religion that I'm espousing (though I'm not really even espousing it) involves "true" (to the extent that it's more authentic) religion and spirituality. Religion and spirituality that is at least rational, if not trans-rational.

PPS Wow, I definitely didn't intend for this post to be so philosophical / spiritual sounding. I just wanted to post the cool website about cognitive development. Oops. How the mind runs when left unchecked.

This is a Hurt Free Zone!

Well, that last post seemed to bring out some hurtfulness in people. I'm sure that Dave didn't mean to insult anonymous (who I don't know if said anonymous wants to be known), but it did not come off that way. So, please make up. Thank you. I don't want anyone to feel as if they can't/shouldn't post because their ideas will be criticized. I appreciate everyone's input (except for the crazy advertising people... you can insult them all you want. :))

And to anonymous, I find these posts mostly on either Salon.com or Slate.com. These are two of the best online news / opinion sites I've found. Another good site is Wired.com, though that's more for if you're into technology and such.

Namaste, truly, All.

A Bajillion and One Ideas (Start at 1)

I have about a billion post ideas that I could write about now. So, I'm going to start at the first one, and then work my way through them, hopefully, as the day goes on. Though more often than not, when I say that the ideas just kind of fall to the wayside and never get communicated. They go to that great big Idea Heaven in the Sky.

First topic: mediocrity. It comes back to what I said in my third post ever. The idea is that somehow, speaking for myself at least, I'm not really living. I mean, I get up in the morning, and I "live." But living is truly an art, and to play the piano is not to be a pianist. You have to know how to make the instrument sing. Same thing here. Living is an artform, and some make their lives sing, while others don't. I want to make mine sing.

This thought came up from this article. If you read the first few paragraphs and the last few, you'll get the main, and best, jist of the articles important ideas. It's so true. For me, at least.

One idea down. Billion minus one to go!

Death

So, while stretching post-workout, I had this strange thought. I started to try and think about what my life was like before I was born. I realize that this is paradoxical, since there was no "I" to be "like" anything. But just go with me on this.

I thought about this for a minute or so, and then realized it was "like" nothing. I don't remember it. I can't, there was no "I" to remember it. And that is/was okay. The emptiness, the nothing was okay. And that's what death may* be like. Just nothing. It's like birth, in reverse. Which reminds me of the song "Practice Dying." Hm, maybe this idea wasn't so much my own. But I like to pretend.

Of course I'm still scared of death on some level. That's only natural. It's an evolutionary instinct plugged into me the Kosmos. But the thought that it's nothing more than birth in reverse is a little comforting. For me at least.

* I put a footnote here because I don't know what happens after death. I don't think anyone does. Do we reincarnate? Do we go into Heaven or Hell? Do we, well, nothing? Or do we do none/all of the above. The Kosmos is way to weird for me to ever claim to know the answer to this question. I'm just offering one possible scenario.

Reconsidering this Whole "Hippie" Idea

Found this scathing review of hippie-dom by Stuart Davis:

"[Because] that hippy bullshit is just pre-conventional, self indulgent masturbation masquerading as post-conventional non-conformity. And that's ice in Love's underwear. The pre-conventional / post-conventional shell game is as old as the human condition. Every unkempt, malodorous counter-culture freak who's gone camping and taken acid thinks he's John The Baptist (post conventional), and the fact is, they're not."

Good point. Similar to what Brian Sheridan has constantly told me when I say I'm a "hippie." Perhaps I need a new group to identify with. I suppose I don't really know who the hippies were. They just seem so cool with the love, peace, and what not. Oh well, acceptance is the first step towards recovery. :)

Food For Thought (What a Horrible Pun)

I was reading a story from this series (I don't know what it's called, but it's essentially about the economy / technology of the future), and I came accross this quote:

"Sure, will-power. Will-power nothing. The thing is, when three quarters of America are obese, when half are dangerously obese, like me, years off our lives from all the fat -- that tells you that this isn't a will-power problem. We didn't get less willful in the last fifty years. Might as well say that all those people who died of the plague lacked the will-power to keep their houses free of rats. Fat isn't moral, it's epidemiological. There are a small number of people, a tiny minority, whose genes are short-circuited in a way that makes them less prone to retaining nutrients. That's a maladaptive trait through most of human history -- burning unnecessary calories when you've got to chase down an antelope to get more, that's no way to live long enough to pass on your genes! So you and Perry over here with your little skinny selves, able to pack away transfats and high-fructose corn-syrup and a pound of candy for breakfast at the IHOP, you're not doing this on will-power -- you're doing it by expressing the somatype of a recessive, counter-survival gene.

Would I like to be thinner? Sure. But I'm not gonna let the fact that I'm genetically better suited to famine than feast get to me. Speaking of, let's eat."

Damn. That'll show my skinny ass what's up. I never thought of it that way. I suppose most people never do.

Anyway, the rest of the series is full of good stuff. Real utopian.

Namaste.

PS - Man, all this reading on Transcendentalism is really getting to me. I sure hope my "teaching" tomorrow is up to Ms. Shulman's level.

Good Quote

"But unfortunately, you can't embrace Gaia until you transcend Gaia. Otherwise, you have a mere addiction to the finite realm. You're not embracing it with love; you're embracing it with basically the same addiction you would heroin or any sort of sensory indulgence."

- Ken Wilber

I found this quote in an article I was reading. The whole "Gaia" part wasn't what I found fascinating. It's when you take Gaia out of the sentence and insert any other word. That way it would read as follows:

"But unfortunately, you can't embrace [something] until you transcend [it]. Otherwise, you have a mere addiction to [it]. You're not embracing it with love; you're embracing it with basically the same addiction you would heroin or any sort of sensory indulgence."

Holy pooh, so true.

Good Stuff

So, me being the hippie that I am (cringes, prepared for berating), I found this awesome site called TreeHugger.com. Well, it's really not all that awesome. I just thought it was pretty funny. I found it through a CharityFocus newsletter/quote thing. Yeah, I am so way too liberal for my own good.

The irony of it all is that I haven't ever really enjoyed the outdoors, yet I'm all crazy about saving the environment. It's kind of like that fact that I want nothing more than to help people, but I don't really handle people well. It's really funny, in a way. And a little disconcerting. I suppose I should really think about why I want to be so altruistic. I mean, there's nothing wrong with it. In fact, it is a good thing. But going into such acts blindly, without knowledge of my true motives, could be dangerous / stupid.

On a similar but different note, I've decided that the ultimate life for me would be some sort of Cyber Monk. Like, me just living in the world, with nothing but a labtop and some clothes. Well, it sounds really lame when I put it out there. But I think it'd be a blast. Kind of a mix between Henry David Thoreau's Walden and Ray Kurzweil's The Singularity. Taking the best of both worlds, and negating the, well, negatives. Yeah, I'm weird. Sigh.

Hm, an interesting post (for me, at least). I hope everyone is still enjoying life. Not that anyone would not enjoy life. At least, I'd hope not.

And in preparation to my teaching of The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail, here's a quote by the T-Man himself.

"To be a philosopher is not merely to have subtle thoughts, nor even to found a school, but so to love wisdom as to live according to its dictates, a life of simplicity, independence, magnanimity, and trust." -- Henry David Thoreau

Word.

Gov School

Heh. Just found this blog dedicated to Gov school. Wow, all the memories Raksha had. I don't know how many I had. I think I've forgotten most of them. Or at least haven't tried as hard at keeping them. Not that I don't want to remember it. Just that, I don't know, it didn't / doesn't seem all that important in the grand scheme of things. Man, are my priorities special.

Isn't it funny how diffently two people can see exactly the same situation. Wow.

Random Excerpts and Stuff

Hi all. I haven't been feeling too much like posting lately. In fact, I've been feeling deeply introspective. I don't know why, for sure. I think I'll post on it sometime. I think it has something to do with an internal conflict I've been feeling between reality and, well, not reality. By this, I mean between how I think things should be, and how they really are. Wow, aren't I being overly dramatic.

But for now, I found this poem in my English folder. I was de-entropizing said folder today and I want to recycle the paper but save the poem. So I figure what better way to do that than to eternalize it in cyberspace.

It's a poem about the Vietnam War and a person who gave his life to bring a spotlight on atrocities occuring half a world away.

Norman Morrison by Adrian Mitchell

On November 2nd 1965
in the multi-coloured mutli-minded
United beautiful States of terrible America
Norman Morrison set himself on fire
outside the Pentagon.
He was thirty-one, he was a Quaker,
and his wife (seen weeping in the newsreels)
and his three children
survive him as best they can.
He did it in Washington where everyone could see
because
people were being set on fire
in the dark corners of Vietnam where nobody could see.
Their names, ages, beliefs, and loves
are not recorded.
This is what Norman Morrison did.
He poured petrol over himself.
He burned. He suffered.
He died.
That is what he did
in the white heart of Washington
where everyone could see.
He simply burned away his clothes,
his passport, his pink-tinted skin,
put on a new skin of flame
and became
Vietnamese.

Now, you can think man was insane or incredibly brave. That he was a psycho or a hero. But think what you want, he was a voice in the darkness.

Wow, I think this poem has more to do with my current empty, ego fortified difficulies that I would have thought. Isn't synchronicity a beautiful thing?

Peace.

Holy Shit!

And I mean that both literally and figuratively. Just check out this article. And then tell me if that doesn't make you laugh and cower in fear at the same time. I mean, seriously, this dude must believe in some white haired, bearded Zeus that sits on a cloud and hurls lightning bolts. The only difference between him and the ancient Greeks is he calls the dude "God."

Like I said, it'd be hilarious if it weren't so scary. This guy has a whole channel to himself. And he spews out this stuff. And I assume someone eats it up. Not that I'm saying he's "bad" per se, anymore than an infant that throws a temper-tantrum is "bad." It's just, you should grow up eventually. You can respect the tantrum, until it becomes a tantrum thrown by a 75 year old man. Then it becomes a little embarassing, for him and us.

Not that my vitriol adds anything positive to the situation. I can respect this man. I can respect his opinion. But I also am forced to disagree with it. And not even on theological grounds (there are 100 and 1 reasons why that type of God makes no sense), but on moral ones. You don't condemn people to destruction because they disagree with you. Or, let me rephrase that. A well adjusted American in the 21st century shouldn't do that.

Enough of my punditry. Enjoy your weekend.

A New Thought

I've found a new field of study to be interested in. Namely biomimetics. Stated simply, biomimetics is the study of nature to figure out how to make things "better." Now, define "better" anyway you like. Personally, I'd define it as making things safer, efficient, energy effective, and aesthetically pleasing, probably in that order.

I had this epiphany because I know I want to go into Science. I don't know if I want to study Physics or Chemistry. To tell you the truth, I don't see why there's a distinction between the two [though some might say that Chemistry is the good stuff and Physics is just "that velocity and accleration stuff" :)]. In addition to these two bases, I just kind of find Biology really cool. Just like that fact that we're even here, and that we're [defined as anything in nature] so good at what we do ["designer" or no]. The science of the future won't really have distinctions between the fields, in my opinion. Interdisciplinary is the word of the future. Which is looking good to me.

Why go to nature for design? Let's take cellular respiration for example [since we're all dead tired of it]. Okay, this "simple" process that goes on in EVERY aerobic cell / organism (that includes you, if you didn't know) creates clean energy at 40% efficiency (ie it takes out 40% of the energy it can from the starting organic compound). Compare this to a power plant, which has an efficiecy of 36-37%. And that's with using fossil fuels and creating all sorts of waste. In this competition, it's Nature, 1, Man, 0.

And the limits are boundless. And practical. I don't want to do theoretical physics. It has its place, but it just doesn't do it for me. It doesn't spark my passion. THIS area does. I suppose it's another option to add to my queue of aspirations. "I wanna be a firefighter. No, an astronaut! No, a..." You get the idea. :)

Thought I'd share. And while I'm at it. What do you want to be?

And good luck with whatever that may be.

Peace!

[PS Don't buy into that "money is happiness" stuff. You can be the richest bastard in the world, and still be miserable. Or you can be the poorest smuck in the world and be freakin' jovial. It's all in you, not the money.]

[Wow, do you think I used enough brackets? :)]

One of Life's Little Suprises

Well, just talked to Ryan Bunch about me going to Chestnut Hill High School to play in the pit band for their performance of High Society.

Woh, it's in Philly.

Holy pooh, what have I gotten myself into?! :( ) Wow, this will definitely be a major learning experience. But I figure it's a chance for me to get out of the house, meet some new people, learn how to drive in the city, AND earn $200.

It's opening night is December 8th. You know what else is December 8th? That's right, Hi-Q. That'll be a special day for me. A special day indeed.

Well, just thought I'd share. Ciao.

There is Life After Crazy

Wow, tonight's marching band practice was the awesomest ever. And by awesome, I don't mean it went well. On the contrary, it probably went the poorest I've ever seen a practice go. But the fun had. Oh, the fun had.

It's amazing that acting crazy / being crazy can be so much fun. I mean, randomly shouting at people / counting in Spanish / being chased around by "crazed" drummers can make for quite a night. Quite a night indeed.

Especially when you "left everything on the field" last Saturday.

Oh well, only the rest of this month to go.

"Do you know what Saturday?! It's Championships! Freakin' Cavalcade Championships!"

And congrats to Kenny on getting accepted into Penn State Main. It's nice to see everyone getting accepted into their colleges of choice.

Hope you enjoyed this Wednesday (felt like Monday). Peace.

Stream of Concsiouness (SOC)

It's Tuesday evening. But I suppose you all know that. It feels so much like a Saturday or a Sunday. Or any day but today. But I suppose when you step outside of time, crazy shit like that happens. No, seriously, try it sometime. Cover up all the clocks in your house, don't look at the computer clock, and just live. It's f'ing amazing what happens. Seriously. It's like time stretches out for you; suddenly, a drought of time becomes a lake. All because you live in the moment.

And living in the moment is nothing if you don't pay attention. Do like Thoreau did. Don't die only to realize that you haven't lived. Wouldn't that be the BIGGEST bitch. Sitting their on your death bed, your life clock ticking to zero, and then realizing you haven't done anything you wanted to. Why? Because you were too scared, it wasn't the right time, you were too tired. What a bunch of BS reasoning. How much of the stuff we come up with is just bs reasoning for not living. How many lives go to waste because of our BS?

And while I'm at it, have you ever really thought about what you're here to do? I mean, do with a capital D. Or as Buckminster Fuller put it, "What's your job on Spaceship Earth with a capital J?" I don't know half the time. Do you?

Well, my stream of consciouness is trickling to an end. Turning into emptiness. Wow, it's funny how doing this CALMS the mind down. One might think it'd have the opposite effect. But it doesn't. Suddenly, there's gaps in my thoughts. Gaps that I have to try and fill. Always trying to fill. Damn, this is better than meditation could ever be. GAP. GAP.

And now normal, non-stream of consciouness, sensoring Dave is back. I just thought I'd give you something fun (if crazy) to chew on. Since I haven't posted in a while. Bad me. BAD.

I hope you all enjoyed your day off. And if you were able to vote (unlike me, who sucked at registering [though I AM registered now]) did. God bless Democracy, I say!

Namaste. Om.

Marching Band Video

And here it is folks. The last video of the season.

Note: If you haven't been able to get the video to run, it's because you need the LATEST version of Quicktime. This video has weird audio encoding (AAC), and this makes it all sorts of not work with Windows Media Player, etc. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Untitled

And this is the way Marching Band ends. Not with a bang but a whimper.

My apologies to Mr. T.S. Eliot.

Seven years of marching band. Wow. I could get all nostalgic, but I won't. It's been a ride. Quite the ride. My Senior year included.

And now it's finished.

I think I'll take a cue from William Blake on this one.

He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity's sun rise.

Good night, all. Namaste.

Me, Myself, and I (Part I)

A discussion in Ms. Shulman's AP English class yesterday has motivated me to write about something that, in a way, I've been putting off. Namely, the topic of the illusion of the self. This is a topic that will probably span a few entries. I know it will span more than one. This one is just a starter, to put my foot in the door, to put the flame under my ass. Once the snowball starts, it's hard to get it to stop rolling.

Now to the topic at hand. What do I mean by "the illusion of the self." Let me give you a little background about yesterday's "Philosopy 101" seminar with Mr. Passyn. Mr. Passyn gave the 11th grade class a whirlwind tour of Philosophy from Plato to 20th century existentialists. He discussed the fighting between rationalists (ie scientists, mathmeticians, etc) and existentialists (ie writers, artists, spiritualists, etc). One of the points of existentialists is that reality is completely subjective. This means its embedded in the way you see things. There may be a physical world, but you only see YOUR version of the physical world. As Mr. Passyn put it, "How do you know which reality is true? The one your'e seeing now, or the one when you're on LSD?" Both are true to YOU.

Then Mr. Passyn brought up an existentialist quote (I wish I knew who said it. I'm thinking it was either Sartre or Heidegger) which said something to the effect of "Science is a useful illusion." This quote means that yes, science is handy, but there's absolutely nothing absolute about it (hehe). A whole lot of it's embedded in social, cultural, and subjective web that makes it completely NOT absolute.

And now to the reason I'm writing this post. The statement that "science is an useful illusion" made me think of something else. Namely, that "'I' am a useful illusion." Or to put the idea in broader terms, the self, , is a useful illusion.

I'll give you some time to think that I'm crazy / to come up with your criticisms / to gnaw on the idea. I don't have time / don't really want to post anymore on this idea right now. Just trust me that I'm not some sort of psychopath that came up with this idea: plenty of other psychopaths have had it before me. Just check out Buddhism (for the spiritual side) or Meme Theory (for the scientific side).

And now "I" will see you all later. :)

PS - The Self is a useful illusion. Therefore, this self will be fully present and accounted for throughout the remainder of his lifetime. Just give the idea some thought. Have an open mind. And if you still think I'm a complete idiot, feel free to punch me or something.

PPS - This argument is a LOT more complicated than I made it out to be, and a lot more complicated than I could ever hope to explain. Therefore, any hole in the debate is mine, not the former of the ideas. Forgive me, as I hope they will.

Naps = Bad

I had a good 2 hour nap today. The only problem with that is I wake up more tired, and I get nothing done. Not really all that helpful. Sigh.

Anyway, I just thought I'd share a funny story. Today in Science Olympiad, someone that will remain anonymous stated, "I wanted to touch it. It's a 9 on the hardness scale!" Bet you can't guess what anonymous is talking about!?

It's a rock. LOL.

Yes, I'm immature. But hey, it's fun.

Now where is that music for AP English.

Feeling Good

Evan
Originally uploaded by David Darmon.

Two posts in one night. You know something must be wrong. :)

Here's a nice song that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Serenity by Godsmack

As I sit here and slowly close my eyes
I take another deep breath
And feel the wind pass through my body
I'm the one in your soul
Reflecting inner light
Protect the ones who hold you
Cradling your inner child

I need serenity
In a place where I can hide
I need serenity
Nothing changes, days go by

Where do we go when we just don't know
And how do we relight the flame when it's cold
Why do we dream when our thoughts mean nothing
And when will we learn to control

Tragic visions slowly stole my life
Tore away everything
Cheating me out of my time
I'm the one who loves you
No matter wrong or right
And every day I hold you
I hold you with my inner child

I need serenity
In a place where I can hide
I need serenity
Nothing changes, days go by

Where do we go when we just don't know
And how do we relight the flame when it's cold
Why do we dream when our thoughts mean nothing
And when will we learn to control

Where do we go when we just don't know
And how do we relight the flame when it's cold
Why do we dream when our thoughts mean nothing
And when will we learn to control

I need serenity

And now that you too are in a warm and fuzzy mood, check out this. Looks like it's the interweb of the future. Very cool.

Namaste.

The Quantization of Reality

So, sitting in Concert Band, I had plenty of time for thinking. Looking at the clock, counting down the minutes till I was free (and if you think I'm exaggerating, try sitting through a concert band practice. It is hell!) I had a weird thought. It went something like this: 'I have another 60 / 30 / 15 / etc. minutes to go.'

Okay, not all that weird a thought, but hold on. Then I thought, 'Wait, WTF! You can't have "x minutes to go"' I mean, Of all the things we quantize, time seems to be the strangest. We often discuss the units without talking about the thing being measured, namely time. For example, how often have you heard, "I've got to wait a day." or "I've got 9 months till the babies born." But where's the thing being measured? Shouldn't it be "I've got to wait a day [of time]" or "I've got 9 months [of time] till the babies born." I realize this seems like trivialities. But I think it's an important distinction.

Why? Mainly because confusing the units for the thing is a real shitty thing to do. I've yet to find someone that says, "Oh, I've got 10 centimeters." What the fuck do you have 10 cm of? Gold? Iron? Paper? Shit? The units are valueless without involving the object being measured. This is true with time, perhaps even more so, considering time is all we have. Literally. The present, in it's unquantized form, is all we have.

(This problem stems from the deeper dilemma of limited / limiting worldviews. Yes, science has done wonders for the modern world. But nevertheless, it still imposes man-made restrictions on a reality that is truly man-proof. Whether we're talking Heisenberg or not, reality is way beyond our capabilities to understand. Not to say we shouldn't try and understand reality. On the contrary, we most certainly should. But let's realize how limited our understanding truly is and work from there.)

I just thought this was an interesting, novel, provocative thought. I'm not even going to scratch the topic of the relativity of time, etc. That's way over my head. But I think time is a topic worth a thought or two. In a society that rarely takes any "time" to just sit back and relax, a society ruled by clocks, whether literal or otherwise, it's important to take a step back and contemplate what exactly time is, and how we value it in society.

"Time is money"? No, I think it is so much more.