I know this place, I know this town

Doesn't make a difference whether I know about it. Just because there are things I don't remember doesn't make my actions meaningless. The world doesn't just disappear when you close your eyes, does it?


So we watched Memento in English today, which is based off of the amazing short story "Memento Mori". (At least read the story. Trust me, it is beyond amazing.)

But...that quote.

At first, you would think that no, the world does not disappear when you close your eyes...but then how do you know it doesn't? You can of course sense external stimuli: sounds, smells, changes in temperature, etc. And the question could just end there.

And yet...do you really sense all of that? Or do you sense it simply because you want to?

Because if you didn't, if the world just disappeared when you closed your eyes...then that would mean that you are alone. Then the world is not the world, but a small insubstantial something that you can only perceive through two fragile, jelly-filled organs sending signals to the back of your brain. And when you turn that off, then you turn off everything. That thought, that possibility, is generally viewed as so horrifying that we refuse to think about it. Even now, you are probably not fully grasping what I am trying to say, or you are thinking about something else that you need to do, or that you'll stop reading now and come back to this post, though you probably won't.

But why is it so horrifying? What is so terrible about being alone? Is it that, without something external to motivate us, the world becomes meaningless? And why must we have some sort of purpose? Religions are huge on giving their participants purposes to their lives; I daresay that therein lies most of the appeal. Even atheists/agnostics/etc. find some kind of purpose, even if it's something simple like "enjoy life" or "put more love in the world".

Is having a purpose so necessary? Maybe it is, because otherwise, we might realize that there is little logic or reason in life, and thus everything is lost to entropy, or chaos. There would be no order, even in our disorder, and then we would not be safe at all.

And so we hide behind our structures and purposes to protect us from delving into the truth of things, because we are used to those small ideas and ways of thinking. We are used to cradling lies to keep us safe from the monster in the closet. But is it really a monster, or just a magnificent beast?

Perhaps it's true that whatever you do with your life will amount to nothing in the big picture (is there even a big picture to be made, since it is crafted by conquerors and those who subject themselves to learning from the former?). But is that really so bad?

Wow. I have my flight booked.

...that means it's actually happening. ^_^

Katie, I need Sunshine back. (And Secondhand Lions too, por favor.)

So it occurred to me today, as I was finishing my essay which I totally did not procrastinate doing, jsyk, that, well...

I hate conclusions. And not the "I hate that mosquito that keeps showing up in my room" kind of hate; it's the "I hate my uncle for refusing to admit that he cheated on my aunt" kind of hate.

I think that if I have waxed eloquent about a certain point and used evidence to prove it, whether in a paper or a lab report, you* should be able to come to your own damn conclusion. If you can't, then you should not be reading my work (or any work, for that matter). Why do I have to tell you what to draw from what I've shown you? Doesn't that rob readers of individual experiences? Maybe some of you will come to different conclusions than I did. Doesn't my having recited a conclusion rob you of that?

It's all just unnecessary words at that point. I've introduced you to my topic, I've presented my evidence, I (personally) have given you more than enough commentary (usually scathing on one side or the other)...aren't you tired of the topic by now?

Perhaps what really bugs me is that I've been forcefed MLA format [insert gagging noise here] since middle school, if not earlier. And one thing that the Almighty Method commands is that one always restates one's thesis at the beginning of each conclusion. But...

WHY????

Am I really supposed to pretend that you are stupid enough to have forgotten my main point, even though all the evidence I have given in the body paragraphs is supposed to relates back to said thesis? Isn't that an insult to your intelligence? And besides, if you really did forget the thesis of the paper, is it so difficult to turn back to the introduction and read it again?

Another thing I don't get is writing a full conclusion for a lab report. Okay, so maybe some people need to know what the yellow-orange color on the pH paper means...but if you can't figure out for yourself that when 100% of the class has dark eyes means it's a dominant trait, then get back to high school. Going on for several sentences about how majority of percentage shows dominant alleles is a waste of everyone's time.

...so, I get that some kind of tying things together is necessary for the end of essays. But for god's sake, each essay/lab report is different. Why is there a rigid, structured method for this sort of thing?

In conclusion, I have to finish laundry. Peace out.


_____________________

*in this post, "you" refers to the reader. Not you, dear flist.

I find a map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from 'A' to where you'd 'B'
It's only finger-lengths that I see

I touch the place where I'd find your face
My fingers in creases of distant dark places

I hang my coat up in the first bar
There is no peace that I've found so far
The laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science

Their words mostly noises, ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory are like music to me

I'm miles from where you are
I lay down on the cold ground, I,
I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms

After I have traveled so far,
We'd set the fire to the third bar
We'd share each other like an island
Until, exhausted, close our eyelids

And, dreaming, pick up from the last place we left off
Your soft skin is weeping a joy you can't keep in

I'm miles from where you are
I lay down on the cold ground, and I,
I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms...

( Who comments the most on this journal? )

...It was the wicked and wild wind
Blew down the doors to let me in
Shattered windows and the sound of drums
People couldn't believe what I'd become
Revolutionaries wait
For my head on a silver plate
Just a puppet on a lonely string
Oh, who would ever want to be king?

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror, my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can't explain,
I know Saint Peter won't call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world...

You are The Star

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Star is one of the great cards of faith, dreams realised

The Star is a card that looks to the future. It does not predict any immediate or powerful change, but it does predict hope and healing. This card suggests clarity of vision, spiritual insight. And, most importantly, that unexpected help will be coming, with water to quench your thirst, with a guiding light to the future. They might say you're a dreamer, but you're not the only one.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

This past Sunday, I had to mop the tile area of the dining room before clocking out. Such a task would not be worth mentioning were it not for a strange incident that occurred during.

As I was working, a man came up to me and asked me to refill his tea mug. (Employees pour the hot water so as not to risk an injury to a customer and consequently a lawsuit.) When I had done so, he looked at me and said, "You're too pretty to mop."

Um...ok.

I smiled and said "thank you" (what else could I say to that?), but he didn't stop there. He persisted, saying that I should work at Macy's, and then - I kid you not - he pointed at one of my new coworkers, who was standing at the register, and said, "He should be the one mopping."

Jackass.

Feeling quite irritated, I said something like, "I do have functional arms and legs, and my manager will continue to take advantage of them for as long as possible." I don't know, it was more to get rid of the guy than anything else. Thankfully, he left at that point.

But...seriously?

How was that supposed to make my coworker feel? Did he really have to listen to that guy dictate what should be done on the basis of genetics alone? For all the guy knew, my coworker could be damn good at working the register. Yet...he shouldn't because...he's not me? What kind of reasoning is that?

...And for that matter, how could the guy know that I could be good for more than mopping? Maybe I'm incompetent in any matter more complex than mopping...yet I still shouldn't because my mother's genes were kind to me? How do my looks excuse me from doing the same kind of work that everyone most people have done at least once in their lives? It's just bone, skin, muscle insertion points, etc. For god's sake, is it really that important?

Reply to this post & I will tell you one thing I envy (or perhaps admire) about you!
Then post this at your journal.

(But I promise not to put an exclamation point at the end of whatever I tell you.)

+ So...maybe I was wrong. Maybe love can be comfortable. Maybe it doesn't have to be defined by angst and endless misunderstandings. Maybe the lack of such pain doesn't mean it's not love.

+ When I saw my school doctor for my ankle, he was throwing around names like "rheumatoid arthritis" and "lupus". But...whatever. As long as it's not similar to what happened to my aunt (deterioration of cartilage, transplant, and several years of post-op treatment/physical therapy), cause there's no way in heaven or hell I can afford that.

+ @Kerry: Now that I finally know what your new mood theme is from, I love it even more.

+ God help me. I'm almost excited for the release of New Moon.

For all their words about looking out for the best interests of the child, reunifying family members, etc., California Family Court is not really Family Court.

It's a slave auction.

Consider: most children are placed in the custody of the parent who has/pays/donates the most money. Any attempts to uncover the ugly truth are rapidly smothered. The children in question are traumatized for years (if not the rest of their life), and little/no real effort is made to help them heal from it. They are bartered and used in threats like they are no more than cheap trinkets.

And, in the case of my friend's children, siblings are placed in separate homes with no foreseeable reunification until they are out of the system, i.e. when they reach the age of majority.

Yes, you read that right.

Today, Judge Lorna Alksne of San Diego Family Court placed my friend's two oldest boys (17 and 15) in the custody of their father, Eric Moelter, the man who repeatedly sexually abused the youngest boy (13 years of age), who is still in the custody of Moelter's friend's family. Having full physical and legal custody of the two oldest, Eric Moelter could easily hold visits with the youngest over their heads, should the boys choose to resist.

But one of, if not the, truly heartbreaking things about this is that recently, the youngest boy told the custody evaluator Dr. Breffni Barrett that he was afraid to be alone, and hated being without his brothers. And so, they have decided to continue waging war on a child, for daring to tell the truth.

It's been a while since I've felt so powerless, and hated every moment of it.

If you remember nothing else from this post, remember this: Judge Lorna Alksne, Dr. Breffni Barrett, and Eric Moelter are part of the evil that fuels California's injustice system. Remember those names. Tell everyone. These vampires operate best in secrecy; exposing them to the world will weaken them like sunlight does others of their kind.

Title: Snapshot, Thursday, 3:39 PM
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 350
Summary: No one ever thinks to put Achilles and feelings in the same sentence. I see it in your eyes, darling: you've got it bad.
Author's Note: Oh. My. God. I wrote smut soft smut. Hell must be freezing over. But it didn't quite turn out the way I thought it would...


( It's a beautiful contradiction. )

+ I officially ship Voldemort and Quirrell. Don't ask me, ask latnmac .

+ New icons have been shipped in. I'm disturbed by the number of which are romantic in nature. Again, this is all your fault. :P

O mo dhuthaich' stu th'air m'aire
Uibhist chumhraidh ur anan gallan,
Far a faighte na daoin' uaisle,
Far 'm bu dual do Mha 'ic Ailein.

Tir a' mhurain, tir an eorna
Tir 's am pailt a h-uile seorsa
Far am bi na gillean oga
Gabhail oran 's 'g ol an lionna

Thig iad ugainn, carach, seolta
Gus ar mealladh far ar n-eolais;
Molaidh iad dhuinn Manitoba,
Duthaich fhuar gun ghual, gun mhoine.

Cha leig mi leas a bhith 'ga innse,
Nuair a ruigear, 'sann a chithear,
Samhradh goirid foghar sitheil,
Geamhradh fada na droch-shide

Nam biodh agam fhin de storas
Da dheis aodaich, paidhir bhrogan
Agus m'fharadh bhith 'nam phoca
'Sann air Uibhist dheanainn seoladh.

I feel like the biggest bitch in the world right now. But that's neither here nor there.


...and apparently, because I am unwilling to cough up the money for a paid account, I am not allowed to create a poll. Fuck. My. Life.

But I can still simulate a poll.

What should Lilliane be for Halloween?
1) V (V For Vendetta)
2) Temperance Brennan (Bones)

Only one vote per person.

Once the risk is taken away from a situation, a significant percentage of humans will lose interest. But I'm sure that men will still cheat; they have higher sex drives, and seem less likely to commit.

Marriage...unless it is a "match made in heaven", I tend to view marriage as a cage rather than something wonderful.

Oh no, not now
Please not now
I just settled into the glass half-empty,
Made myself at home
And so, why now?
Please not now
I just stopped believing in happy endings
Harbors of my own

But you had to come along, didn't you?
Tear down the doors, throw open windows
Oh, if you knew just what a fool you have made of me!

So what do I do with this?

This stray Italian greyhound, these inconvenient fireworks,
This ice-cream-covered screaming hyperactive thought
God, I just want to lay down
These colors make my eyes hurt
This feeling calls for everything that I am...
Not

I'm not that kind
I'm so good at shooting down any notion
This tired world could change
It's all been bought,
Or at least that was my line
No use in spending all that emotion
When there's someone else to blame

But you had to come along, didn't you?
Rev up the crowd, rewrite the rulebook
Where do I go when every "no" turns into "maybe"?

So what do I do with this?

This sudden burst of sunlight,
And me with my umbrella
Cross-indexing every weather-man's report
I was ready for the downslide,
But not for spring to well up
This feeling calls for everything I can't afford to know
It's possible now

What do I do, do I do
With a love that won't, that won't sit still,
Won't do what it's told?
What do I do, do I do
With a love that won't sit still?

Please not now
Please not now
Please not now, please not...

What do I do, do I do
With a love that won't sit still,
With a love that won't sit still?
What do I do, do I do
With a love that won't,
With a love that won't sit still?
What do I do, do I do
With a love that won't, that won't sit still,
Won't do what it's told?
What do I do, do I do
With a love that won't sit still?

Everything that I am,
Everything that I am,
Everything that I am,
Everything that I am...

Moving out of the US of A.

Maybe.

I had a fantabulous idea.

UCSD has what appears to be a pretty intensive linguistics program. What if I went there (on scholarship, of course), got, maybe...a Master's in Linguistics and a minor in another language (probably Japanese), then traveled to Japan (or wherever) and taught there. If I don't like it, I can move elsewhere and teach there. I should hope that, as a linguistics major, I would have a pretty good grasp on more than one foreign language.

I think it's a good sign that when I put this all together in my mind, my reaction was purely "OMG This sounds like so much FUN!" It's the first time I haven't had any misgivings, however small, in the back of my head.

Thoughts?