The Future

One <---(I wrote that word and got distracted. Now, I have no idea what I was going to say. But I'll leave it there, in case I remember.)

Oh, now I remember. One of my strengths in StrengthsFinder is 'Futuristic.' While I think it's a slightly pathetic strength, it fits me quite well. Often I catch myself staring into the distance, devising scenario upon scenario, imagining possibilities; I don't always live in the present. The future has always captivated me and my imagination. Time, in general, has always done that to me. It makes me muse.

The concept of 'the future' puts things into perspective. Life is fleeting, "a vapor" as someone in the Bible puts it. (I think it's Jesus; I'll have to look it up.) From time to time I look at the world as if I looked through the mind's eye of my future self, fondly reminiscing days gone by, people long since departed from my life. "Where will life take me? Who will I meet? What will I be? When will I die?" These are questions that send me into reverie.

See, this changes how you view... well, anything. Every person, every activity shapes your future self, for better or for worse. It's a terribly conceited thing, but I look at a person and think, "In what way will you shape my story, my future? What will I remember years from now when I think of you?" It's part of the reason I think I'll never marry. I can't form a mental image of myself with anyone. Which is exactly the wrong approach to that, but whatever.

I imagine the future will hold many wonderful things for me, but for now I can't just dream of it. It's the unknown, to everyone "the final frontier." In this way, we are all adventurers. So, I boldly go where no one has gone before.

The AAABBBCCC's

Absolutely all atrocious alligators buy bright bowling balls 'cause cranky crocodiles call constantly. Dear Desiree, dial Doctor Dreyfus. Every elephant emits electrical emotions for feeling fantastic fiery fingers. Gorgeous, goofy girl gorillas guess how hilarious hippos horrify imps inside incredibly itchy igloos. Jolly jellyfish jokingly juggle kicking kangaroos. Kittens kinda like licking luscious lollipops minding multiple microwave munchies. Never, never, never, never operate on overly opulent orangutans. Potentially, purchasing pale purple paper quickly quiets queer qualms. Raising red roses requires really safe security sensors scattered scandalously. Two terrible toddlers tentatively totter toward twenty unbelievably ugly umpires under vicious vampire Valentine valances. Why would whiny white wusses want Xavier's xenophobic xylophones? Yesterday, YouTube yokels yelled "You're yucky!" Zany zoo zealots zap zebras.

Now I've said my ABC's... and I'll never do it again.

Cynical

There are times when I just can't stand the way the world can be. Where I look at things and know it's just not right. I was listening to a Rooster Teeth podcast (a nerd thing, I admit), and they talked about that mom that, because of a falling-out between her daughter and the daughter's friend, set up a fake facebook account as some boy. To get back at the friend, she started a "relationship" with the girl that lasted for about a year before the mother tore the poor girl's world apart. The girl ended up killing herself because of it. As these guys said, "That was a c*** move. No, that was more than a c*** move. That was f***ing evil."

It's stuff like that that turns me into a hardcore cynic. Like when I visited the Flossenberg concentration camp in Germany. It made me think. It made me stew. How could someone do something like that to another? Mankind is screwed up. To kill someone, to make someone feel like they're worthless -- it's awful. Without God's intervention, we're screwed.

But then I look at the Christian community, and it's just as messed up! You've got "Christians" who do nothing to separate themselves through their actions--heck, half the time we look even worse. We're supposed to be a unity body of Christ, but all I see are dismembered limbs. It's in times like this that I long for America to persecute the American church. For something big enough to happen in our lives to see that all our differences are petty pieces of crap.

A couple people posted this link on facebook, which brought on my cynical state. Then there's that Kansan church that picketed Betty Ford's funeral. Classy. At what point is that cool? To cause so much division where there should be unity? To hate your brother? Jesus said to call your brother "fool" was tantamount to murder. So why do we ignore him? To be honest, God's the only thing that makes me want to stay a Christian. WhatThe church (.org, I guess) sure isn't doing much to help. I might as well hang out with friends who don't stab each other in the back.

But then there are times that bring me back to the good of the Church, where I see the Body as it should be. It's the simple things, too. Playing ultimate frisbee, watching a movie, discussing philosophy, talking -- I see the way it should be. So, for a second, my cynical vision is altered by the lens of how it could be. And I endure how it is.

Unpredictable

"I'm dishonest, and a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly. It's the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly... stupid. "

 Jack Sparrow's onto something. It's about unpredictability. Some people get the wrong idea about being unpredictable. They think that you need to do the unexpected at all times. But that's not quite right. Because, as Jack said, there comes a time where you can be expected to do the unexpected. To be truly unpredictable, you sometimes need to do exactly what is expected, because it's exactly what an unpredictable person wouldn't be expected to do.

This is part of the problem I have with people who do everything they can do to be different, unique. You sacrifice your unique tastes to for a sense of uniqueness that isn't entirely yours. Your taste is still dictated by the current trends.

It's similar with rebellion. So often, kids formerly under the authority (often strict authority) of their parents find the freedom brought by a certain age or situation extremely liberating. Seeking to throw off the vestiges of their parents' restrictions, they evaluate their actions through a lens of liberation. If their parents might disapprove of a certain action, they lean in that direction, even if their personal ideals or preferences would disagree with it. These people are delusional. They think they have found true freedom in identity, but their actions are still dictated by what their parents approve of.

To be truly unpredictable, truly unique, truly liberated in identity, it takes something different. To be unpredictable, you need to worry not so much about being unpredictable, but about what the moment dictates you do. To be truly unique, you need to do/wear/listen to what you personally like, even if that means your taste aligns with mainstream preference. To be truly liberated in identity, you must often do exactly what your parents or others would approve of.

Don't be so afraid of being what you don't want to be that you avoid doing what makes you what you want to be because it looks like you are what you don't want to be. Be predictable. It's unpredictable.

Germany

I was struggling to find an intro for my portfolio project reflection paper (a Germany assignment due tomorrow), so I wrote down a bunch of things that came to mind. It explains things better than I could in a couple of hours.

What I liked about Germany: I experienced German culture. I got to hang out with a bunch of friends. I lived with my friends. I made new friends. I experienced what I learned in class. It was an adventure. I learned more about myself. I realized that I have a lot more to learn about myself. I came to love the Decemberists. I ate döners. I ate Nutella and apricot jam. I drank Mezzo Mix. I drank not a drop of drinking fountain water. I was free. It was an escape. It was a break. I worked. I studied. I washed dishes. 9-hour plane rides. 3-hour car rides. 10-minute bike rides. 5-minute walks. Coloretto, Pastiche, Resistance. I told the truth. I lied. I won. I lost. I felt death. I lived.

Brain Crack

So, there's this guy on YouTube, and he mentioned an term this other guy devised: brain crack. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=24prm3XjVgk

As he mentions in the video, brain crack is when you have an idea, especially one that you really like. However, rather than getting it out of your head and doing it, you turn it over a million times in your head, trying to perfect it. You do this so much that you end up becoming addicted to this "brain crack" and never put your "perfect" idea into action. Huh... creativity coming back again. Potential video for the class? B-Shak might like this.

Anyway, I think I might be addicted to brain crack... big time. So, in an effort to recover from my addiction (and at the same time getting my fix), here's a question for you: Is it better to live in a reality which you know to be false than to take drastic actions to discover a reality that will, in essence, send you into non-existence?

This has been shifting in my head for quite a while now. It's an idea for a story I have. Originally, it was going to be a story in which the characters gradually recognized the existence of the author and begin to rebel against him/her. But, over many fixes of brain crack, it changed into something entirely different (though I still like the other idea)--a story in which a character lives in a reality that is actually unreality and his journey to discover actual truth/reality. It draws on ideas from Descartes and the skeptics--all those who said we must start with doubt--as well as The Matrix, Inception, The Truman Show, 1948, Fahrenheit 451, and a host of other sources.

My basic point is this: When confronted with the truth--that reality is not reality at all--a person will strive to find true reality. It's the basis of a lot of movies. In Inception, the question of whether the totem topples or not, and whether that matters. In The Matrix, it's choosing the red pill. That Neo somehow always knew that things weren't right (that's a topic you see in a lot of places). The Truman Show and his similar search for the "real." 1948 and the importance of truth.

What I really want to drive home is the idea that the truth is of extreme importance. That one will go to great lengths to know it. I also want to include an aspect a lot of sci-fi shows and movies have used--that the character somehow knows things weren't quite right, and that it mattered.

Maybe one day I will be rehabilitated, saved from my addiction to brain crack. But it means failure. It means letdown and disappointment. But it also means progress. Bring it on...

Rainy Daze

"Jordan's not on the bus today." Those were the words I heard another student say while I was standing at the back of the bus, just before the third stop. That was my stop, and I was, in fact, on the bus that day. Being the assertive Kindergartner that I was... I sat back down. I sat the entire rest of the bus route without saying a word. When the school bus driver had finished his route, he was surprised to see a child all by his lonesome still on the bus. By the time he dropped me off where I belonged (at least half an hour later than usual), it was pouring rain and my mom had gone to the school, concerned about my absence. The door was locked, so I sat on the steps inside my garage for fifteen to thirty minutes as my mom made her way back home, listening to the rain fall outside.

Ever since then, I've loved the sound of rain. Not just the sound of the rain--I enjoy the feel of the air when it rains, the smell of the rain (though that's likely my imagination), and the way it looks as it drops to the ground. The sound of the rain completely mesmerizes me. I've often had to shake myself back to reality and away from the dreamland to which rain's melody takes me.

That's all. Go outside, sit under an awning, and listen to the rain the next time you get the chance. It's worth it.