Election Day, Election Day...
I've never been very big on politics. I hear the majority of Americans are gettin a little more than ankle-deep into this year's events, however, and I'm afraid I've become one of them.
I'm one of those who avoids political discussions in every day conversation. In my experience, they always seem to end up about as enlightening as a blindfolded shoot-out (leaving the relationship between the conversants none for the better). It does feel good to let people know where I stand on an issue, but I'm not about to put it on anybody's plate who didn't ask for it in the first place.
This year, nobody asked.
Now, I don't mind listening to the opinions of others. I value outside points of view; I really treasure things like that. I'm not sure what was different about this year. Somehow, I got really fed up with not getting my two cents off my chest, while having to swallow an opposing point of view for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
This, my readers, is why I love having this piece-of-junk blog. You're probably all imaginary, but I still love the pants off you all, because you're the few people I can talk to about politics without wanting to disembowel halfway into the conversation. I mean, you couldn't interrupt me if you wanted to. Gotta love them settings.
So, as much as I hate to do this to you, I'm going to tell you all the reasons why I don't think Barack Obama is that bad of an egg. Of course, I'm pretty much pre-ordering my helping of foot with a side of crow, to be eaten when his possible failures occur in the next four years. Fortunately for me, I love novelty in my diet.
Ok, getting the inevitable - and the obvious - out of the way: Race.
One thing you may know about me is that my nationality is somewhere between 1 and 99% African-American. You may be relieved to hear I'm not for this guy simply because "Yo, I'z a nig, you'z a nig, pound it brutha". To be honest, I detest that whole disgusting excuse for "Black Culture". Maybe I'll write somethin about that some other time.
The real meat of it is that no matter how much of your heritage is actually African-American, it's pretty darn difficult not to find yourself lumped into the ambiguous 'Black' category. I believe it's likely that Obama's been in that position, and has perhaps achieved something similar to the open-mindedness towards race and appreciation of racial diversity that I have gained from it. If that's the case, I think it will be an advantage concerning foreign affairs, and maybe, just maaybe have a positive effect on Americans' attitude towards race.
On a more liberal note: His position on the war.
I'm kind of a hippie when it comes to war; I don't like the idea of it at all whatsoever. I'm nothing of a war-strategist, but as I see it, America either continues the war or it doesn't. Maybe it's not the safest strategy to turn tail and run home as unceremoniously as Obama would like to, but I'll be glad to see that any effort is made to lay down arms. Not much to be said there.
Maybe the most unusual of my reasons: The uncertainty concerning his experience and the wisdom in his ideas.
Like outside opinions, I also treasure the thrill of what is random. An idea that few will advocate because it is about as likely to succeed as it is to fail, and with terrible consequences - I find this indescribably refreshing. That is the approach that guarantees great change, what I perceive to be the strongest message in his campaign. To be honest, I could really go for one of those. It could be a great change for the worse, but that's hardly different from what the other recent presidents have brought about.
On the other hand, I am almost equally fearful of his time in office.
1) Some asshole could assassinate him. I can't help but get an eerie sense of Martin-Luther-Kingy-ness about this whole thing.
2) If he screws up big time, I can't help but fear the first words out of peoples' mouths are going to include but may not be limited to 'stupid' and 'nigger'. Probably my worst fear.
Aaand that's about all I really felt like saying. Yup, that's my whole spiel. I don't think that was half as excruciating for all yall as it could've been. This had the potential to be twice as long: I didn't even bother making it a detailed comparison between both candidates. McCain ate some serious dust in the polls anyways.
I know that's a pretty sad excuse for a political stance, but between the two extremes of playing eenie-meenie-miny-mo and researching the hell out of both candidates, I don't see a huge difference. I figure I could read all there is to read about either men, and still not have the faintest idea who they are, or what they'll really do when in office. I don't believe anyone can truly know those things about another person, which prevents me from feeling entirely confident in the integrity of anyone outside of myself. Or vice versa, heck if I know.
So instead of voting, I made a new post on my blog. One of many more to come, if I can help it.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Saturday, July 05, 2008
How did this happen...?
I wrote this rant about an mmo called Furcadia - if you're not familiar with it, this post will make about as much sense as a foreign telemarketer, so I wouldn't bother.
Feral roleplay in Furcadia has fallen to the whiners.
About every dream I've visited either outlaws or segregates "freaks", "hybrids", and "unbelievables", and features a dull, consent-based roleplay style.
Not to mention all the feral dreams based on The Sight, both the one by David Clement-Davies and the one by Erin Hunter. I am irritated no less by words like "auds" and "orbs" than words like "drappa" and "lera". It's still wolf-speak, and wolf-speak be damned. As for Warriors: The Sight - medicine cats. Gag me.
Both book series' feature magical powers. How did magic, which was almost as outlawed as thrill-killing is now (and makes half as much sense), become so damn prolific? It's like all the Harry Potter dreams got it on with feral roleplay and made a load of fuck-ugly children.
I'm one of those that enjoyed the unpredictability of thrill-killing (titled so because, hmm, maybe it's thrilling. You know, exciting?), and extreme, bizarre character designs. All these dumbed-down dreams with shit patches make me ill.
Maybe we see eye-to-eye; seeing how scarce my preferred types of dreams have become, however, it's more likely that we don't. For the record, Raptor Forest in AI seems to have the right idea, but I'm a dog person, myself.
Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I've got a jones for some of that good old hack-and-slash. So if anyone's got a dream I haven't had the fortune of finding, or has one in the making, drop me a line. Christ, I'm on the verge of making one myself...
Feral roleplay in Furcadia has fallen to the whiners.
About every dream I've visited either outlaws or segregates "freaks", "hybrids", and "unbelievables", and features a dull, consent-based roleplay style.
Not to mention all the feral dreams based on The Sight, both the one by David Clement-Davies and the one by Erin Hunter. I am irritated no less by words like "auds" and "orbs" than words like "drappa" and "lera". It's still wolf-speak, and wolf-speak be damned. As for Warriors: The Sight - medicine cats. Gag me.
Both book series' feature magical powers. How did magic, which was almost as outlawed as thrill-killing is now (and makes half as much sense), become so damn prolific? It's like all the Harry Potter dreams got it on with feral roleplay and made a load of fuck-ugly children.
I'm one of those that enjoyed the unpredictability of thrill-killing (titled so because, hmm, maybe it's thrilling. You know, exciting?), and extreme, bizarre character designs. All these dumbed-down dreams with shit patches make me ill.
Maybe we see eye-to-eye; seeing how scarce my preferred types of dreams have become, however, it's more likely that we don't. For the record, Raptor Forest in AI seems to have the right idea, but I'm a dog person, myself.
Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I've got a jones for some of that good old hack-and-slash. So if anyone's got a dream I haven't had the fortune of finding, or has one in the making, drop me a line. Christ, I'm on the verge of making one myself...
Sunday, May 18, 2008
..and this is your blog on drugs.
I just got my hands on an audio book - Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club. Now, to say that I'm not a stranger to that story is a massive, veiny, throbbing understatement. At this point, it would actually be easier for me to count out the hours that I don't spend watching the film.
Uff, the sighs of disgust and disappointment are almost audible. Now, don't get your thong in a knot; I'm not one of those types that go skipping around, decked-out in Fight Club merchandise and minus a left hand after their little self-inflicted chemical burn went haywire. I am, however, fascinated by counterculture, several of which were models for some of the organizations in the film/novel.
Although the film follows the novel pretty closely for the most part, there is a lot more explanation of certain concepts that are visited only briefly in the film. I find that to be on the pretty-damn-sweet side of things, since I've been trying to wrap my mind around the concept of "hitting bottom", and the possible virtues of self destruction. I came up with a theory at some early, ungodly hour, and ended up writing a little essay about it. I wasn't exactly in my right mind, which is probably why it all sounds a little batshit to me now. But I figure since I spent as much time on it as I did, I might as well so something with it. So, without further ado...
We can't know cleanliness until we've been dirty. We can't distinguish satiation if we haven't been, say, hungry. How, then, can we really know what it is to be alive, if we've never been dead? Perhaps we can't, but we can at least get close.
In infancy, we are humans in our most basic form. It may be as close to nonexistance as any of us have every been in our lives. Nonetheless, we are something and from then on, we can only be something more. How can we claim to understand and appreciate these gains, while that instant - the very moment when something was gained when before we had nothing - is beyond our recollection?
We must attempt to experience the difference with our conscious minds. In order to do this, we must learn how to become something less. We must continue to be increasingly less than what we are, until we have become the least that we can be. Until we can create contrast - until we have allowed our lives to reach their lowest possible low - we can never experience life at its best.
To be the least that we can be; what does that mean? This is a question to which the answer cannot be given - you must all find it for yourself. Assume that you can only get as much out of your life as you are willing to give up. In order to find the answer to the question, you simply need to recognize what it is you have to lose (both material and immaterial things), and to find and take the steps necessary to rid yourself of those things. Perhaps we will know we have succeeded in becoming the least we can be when we no longer have anything to lose but our lives.
With so many different people leading lives that occupy different levels of high and low, no one's path of descent is identical to another's. We may share a common destination, but we are each responsible for finding our own way down. The distance each of us must travel to reach the bottom is also unknown; there will be nothing for it but to continue down, and to trust that we will know the end when we get there. Until we reach it, we will never understand where we've been, where we can go, and what we can achieve.
Yeah. that's about the point where I decided I should probably try and sleep, which was around 4 a.m. I didn't sleep, but I didn't have the energy to make more of a conclusion either.
So yeah, if you happen to have stumbled upon my nondescript, un-advertised blog and also happen to have thoughts on the subject of hitting bottom/positive self destruction (which is probably about as likely as a planetary alignment and/or Elvis Presley crawling out of his grave and performing the hokey pokey, if I think about it), drop me a line at catscratchfeva@live.com while I'm still interested in this shit.
Uff, the sighs of disgust and disappointment are almost audible. Now, don't get your thong in a knot; I'm not one of those types that go skipping around, decked-out in Fight Club merchandise and minus a left hand after their little self-inflicted chemical burn went haywire. I am, however, fascinated by counterculture, several of which were models for some of the organizations in the film/novel.
Although the film follows the novel pretty closely for the most part, there is a lot more explanation of certain concepts that are visited only briefly in the film. I find that to be on the pretty-damn-sweet side of things, since I've been trying to wrap my mind around the concept of "hitting bottom", and the possible virtues of self destruction. I came up with a theory at some early, ungodly hour, and ended up writing a little essay about it. I wasn't exactly in my right mind, which is probably why it all sounds a little batshit to me now. But I figure since I spent as much time on it as I did, I might as well so something with it. So, without further ado...
We can't know cleanliness until we've been dirty. We can't distinguish satiation if we haven't been, say, hungry. How, then, can we really know what it is to be alive, if we've never been dead? Perhaps we can't, but we can at least get close.
In infancy, we are humans in our most basic form. It may be as close to nonexistance as any of us have every been in our lives. Nonetheless, we are something and from then on, we can only be something more. How can we claim to understand and appreciate these gains, while that instant - the very moment when something was gained when before we had nothing - is beyond our recollection?
We must attempt to experience the difference with our conscious minds. In order to do this, we must learn how to become something less. We must continue to be increasingly less than what we are, until we have become the least that we can be. Until we can create contrast - until we have allowed our lives to reach their lowest possible low - we can never experience life at its best.
To be the least that we can be; what does that mean? This is a question to which the answer cannot be given - you must all find it for yourself. Assume that you can only get as much out of your life as you are willing to give up. In order to find the answer to the question, you simply need to recognize what it is you have to lose (both material and immaterial things), and to find and take the steps necessary to rid yourself of those things. Perhaps we will know we have succeeded in becoming the least we can be when we no longer have anything to lose but our lives.
With so many different people leading lives that occupy different levels of high and low, no one's path of descent is identical to another's. We may share a common destination, but we are each responsible for finding our own way down. The distance each of us must travel to reach the bottom is also unknown; there will be nothing for it but to continue down, and to trust that we will know the end when we get there. Until we reach it, we will never understand where we've been, where we can go, and what we can achieve.
Yeah. that's about the point where I decided I should probably try and sleep, which was around 4 a.m. I didn't sleep, but I didn't have the energy to make more of a conclusion either.
So yeah, if you happen to have stumbled upon my nondescript, un-advertised blog and also happen to have thoughts on the subject of hitting bottom/positive self destruction (which is probably about as likely as a planetary alignment and/or Elvis Presley crawling out of his grave and performing the hokey pokey, if I think about it), drop me a line at catscratchfeva@live.com while I'm still interested in this shit.
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