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Time with Fr. Robert Dohle, Georgia, Trisha and Vicki
Went to visit family late last month and got back yesterday on the 9th of Dec. In the past, there were more of my brothers and sisters living in the Lake Jackson/Freeport area in Texas. Now there is Robert and Georgia. Robert, being the oldest boy (now that my brother Skip died about two years ago) and Georgia being the youngest girl. Judy and Jane are at this time in Utah taking care of a medical issue. They are usually in the area when I come for a visit and I missed not seeing them.
I spent a week with my brother at Camp Allen(http://www.campallen.org/). It is owned by the Episcopal Diocese of Texas. My brother, Fr. Robert, is an Episcopal priest and was ordained in 2008. He is pastor of the Episcopal-Church in Freeport Texas. It is a nice church, small, and I like the people who worship there.
My brother goes to Camp Allen, I believe once a year, to be the chaplain on duty. One of his duties is to do morning and evening prayer. I joined him and enjoyed it very much. He used a modern version of the ‘Book of Common Prayer’ and I loved the translation. It is a little different from the Divine Office I am used to and that made it all the more interesting. My brother takes his priestly duties seriously and from the way people related to him at Camp Allen, he is also respected and loved.
They have a cabin there for the Chaplain and it has two bedrooms, a combined kitchen and living room and a bath. So it was perfect for us. November is my favorite month of the year and the weather while at the camp was beautiful. There are hiking trails that I walked and spent some time by one of the lakes. One night we went out to one of the lakes so Robert could take some photos of the full moon, he also took some of one of their large crosses that they have at different places on the grounds.
At night we had a fire in the fireplace and I really loved it. I guess I could look at a burning fire for hours. Fire, so beautiful and restful, yet, dangerous as well. A symbol of God’s love and purifying effect on the soul, as well as healing all that keeps us from union. It is also a symbol of a God’s love, experienced as wrath, by a soul who freely turns his or her back on the love of the creator. In California, this year, we see the horrendous fires that rampage out of the control. It is no wonder why it is a force of nature that enthralls us, as well as fill us with fear.
After a week we went to the Lake Jackson/Freeport area. I had a good visit with Georgia, my youngest sister, and with Trisha, Robert’s wife of 46 years, I believe. She is a very generous person and has always been a support to my brother. There is always a number of pets that she has around the house. She loves cats, I tolerate them, though in my weaker moments will pet one, and do believe that in spite of my not loving them; they are beautiful creatures. She also loves dogs, and probably everything else that crawls, leaps, flies, and swims. She understands people and is open and honest with them……she is great.
I was also able to visit with her sister Vicki. Probably the most time I spent with her in over 40 years. I found her to be gentle and soft-spoken. She has had her struggles like the rest of us, but she makes it one day at a time.
Georgia is the youngest of 11 and I guess no matter how old she is (I won’t tell) she will always be the littlest to me. She laughs easily and cries as well when it is needed. When I was a teenager, I guess she was my favorite and we played a lot together. People ask me who among my siblings is my favorite is now. I can’t say. Usually, the one I am with is my favorite. Each is so different from each other.
Over the years, Judy and Jane (twins) were the ones I talked most with. So I feel very close to them. Craig the youngest boy, lives in Santé Fe, so I don’t have as much contact as I would like. John, I have little contact with, but he talks a lot with Judy and Jane. David, the brother just below me on the list, he is number 4, is visiting me at this time and I love having him here. As time flies by, I don’t take, or try not to take, my loved ones for granted. In the last three years, there have been two deaths in our family….a wakeup call for sure. It is at times surreal to be ‘older’.
Being older and what that means, can be ignored, until traveling, at least for me. I have never really liked to travel, but now it is getting harder and harder. It is more of an interior thing, with some simply aging body problems. Yet the trip was worth it. I thank God every day for my family, warts and all.
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The three primary philosophical arguments for consciousness being separate from the material brain:
- Perfect Scientific Understanding Argument - If (or when) we reach an absolute perfect scientific understanding of a biological system, and we know absolutely every single detail pertaining to what makes up the material structure of any living thing, including every minute detail of that living thing's physiological brain structure, there would still be one thing that we wouldn't know. Namely, what it is like to be that living thing. Therefore consciousness must be something other than the material structure of something, since knowing all there is to know of the material structure leaves out the conscious experience of it.
- The Zombie Argument - Imagine a human being who on the outside acts no different from that of any other human being, however internally has no consciousness at all whatsoever. And if you ask them: "are you conscious?", they'd respond: "of course I'm conscious!", completely 'unaware' that they lack any sort of consciousness whatsoever, a true 'zombie' so to speak. This isn't to say that such non-conscious entities positively do exist, but simply the mere possibility that such a zombie could exist, shows that consciousness must be something somewhat separate from the material brain, since there's no logical reason why 'zombies' (at least in this sense) couldn't exist.
- The Chinese Room Argument - This argument is in response to a specific argument for materialism, namely that if you design the right artificial intelligence with the right computer program, that this alone is sufficient in creating consciousness. It goes as follows: Take any cognitive function you don't currently have. For this example, I don't speak Chinese. Someone sits me in a room and asks me to answer questions in Chinese. I don't know Chinese, but they hand me a rulebook that tells me the proper steps I need to implement in order to answer the questions in Chinese. This rulebook represents this supposed computer program. Of course I don't know what these symbols in Chinese mean, but the rule book was written so good that I'm able to follow it's proper steps in shuffling these symbols around in proper order so as to accurately answer each of these questions in Chinese. From an outside observer, my answers would be indistinguishable from a native speaker of Chinese, but in reality I don't understand a word of Chinese. I'm just following the rulebook and shuffling symbols without consciously comprehending what any of the symbols mean, and there's no way for me to actually learn Chinese by simply shuffling around symbols in a room. So here's the main crux of the argument: If I don't understand Chinese on the basis of implementing the rules in the rulebook (aka the computer program), then neither does any other computer solely on that basis. Therefore, consciousness must be something more then just a 'program' in the hardwire that is the brain.
Ultimately materialism excludes all qualitative experiences by attempting to reduce them all down to the quantitative level. Though this just simply does not work. The qualitative conscious experience is a uniquely separate thing altogether that must be measured independent of material structures.
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Exorcism is a closely guarded subject and our images only include the ones Hollywood have given us. Learn the truth about Exorcism from a professional exorcist Father Gary Thomas.
Exorcism is known by most as a religious practice of evicting demons or other spiritual entities from a person or area. James R. Lewis described exorcism as "something along the lines of placing the possessing spirit under oath - invoking a higher authority to compel the spirit - rather than an actual casting out". What we know of exorcism is the gory, drama filled films that Hollywood has given us. However, to understand exorcism and possession we are going to speak with an exorcist.
Father Gary Thomas. Exorcist and Pastor of Sacred Heart of Jesus Parish.
Father Gary Thomas, diocesan exorcist and pastor of the Sacred Heart of Jesus Parish, San Jose California, said: "I became an exorcist either by accident or Providence and I have to believe that it was Providence. Our bishop decided to appoint an exorcist in response to the dictum from the late St. John Paul II in 2004 in which he mandated that every bishop in the world select a priest and train that priest to be an exorcist. I simply volunteered and said that I would serve in this ministry.”
Visions of demonic activity and possession most likely come from Hollywood’s version of entertainment with flares of drama and horror. Films like The Exorcist are not a clear representations of demonic activity and possession.
The renowned scene from The Exorcist.
Father Thomas believes: "There are 4 basic degrees of demonic activity. Harassment - the demon has not gained a foothold into person but causes much havoc externally. Oppression - the demon causes a depression within the psychological framework of the person which in turn can cause the person to detach, to react against holy things, to exhibit inordinate physical strength, to speak in languages previously unknown and bodily contortions. Obsession - the demon or demons cause a psychotic interference with the mind of the person which produces hallucinations as well as the signs described in the oppression condition. Possession - the complete takeover by a demon or demons of a human body but not the soul. The host person is still struggling to regain control but basically has a difficult time functioning on a day-to-day basis."
For an exorcism to take place someone or something must be possessed, but in ancient civilizations such as those in Egypt, Greece, China and Babylon believed people that showed signs of psychopathology were possessed by evil spirts. This train of thought continued into the 18th century when witchcraft and possession were used as explanations for psychopathology. Today mental illness is more accepted rather than being a taboo.
The Middle Ages saw barbaric treatments used by the clergy to exorcise evil spirits. They used a variety of techniques such as scourging.
Father Thomas said: "On my team of discerners, I have a physician, clinical psychologist, and psychiatrist: all practicing Catholics and all who believe in the existence of Satan. I also have a prayer team consisting of 3 married couples and a single man(bilingual) who are present at every session of deliverance or formal exorcism. I should state here that a deliverance session is really a minor exorcism. The formal rite is not used, but instead unofficial but efficacious prayers addressed to GOD Instead of directly addressing Satan. That is the major difference between deliverance and formal exorcisms.”
In the Catholic church the process of exorcism involves the rite, which is a collection of prayers, statements and appeals. The rite was revised in 1999 by the Vatican but the original rite dates to 1614. To perform the rite the exorcist dresses in surplice and purple stole. The prayers split into the "imploring formula", in which the priest asks God to free the subject from the devil and the "imurative formula", in which the priest demands in the name of God that the devil leave the subject's body.
Father Gary Thomas at an even for 'The Rite' starring Anthony Hopkins. The film is based on a book titled 'The Rite: The Making of a Modern Exorcist' by Matt Bagilo. Hopkins character is based on Father Thomas.
In the Catholic community a distinction can be made between a formal exorcism and a deliverance. Exorcism is the casting out of an evil spirit from a person or place, and calls upon the power of other earthly sources. However, a deliverance is the process of being released or set free from an oppressive evil spirit, and calls upon the power of God.
Father Thomas said: "The sessions all take place in the church in front of the exposed Blessed Sacrament (Body of Christ); Place the exposed Blessed Sacrament on the altar because it threatens the demons; Gather the team and the subject of the prayers in a circle and bless all of them with exorcised holy water mixed with exorcised salt; Pray preparation/protection and declaration prayers with all present to insulate everyone from demonic attack and declare the power of Christ over Satan; Anoint the subject with both the Sacrament of the Sick and the Oil of the Catechumen; Once this is all performed, then you begin with the deliverance prayers or rite of exorcism.
"When the manifestations have stopped being displayed by a person you keep up the prayers until in your judgment you believe that the demon has left. Sometimes, the demon will just hide in the hope that he has led you to believe that it is gone. However, over time and experience, I along with the team usually know when the demon has left. We also consult with the subject themselves and ask for their input. They can be very helpful as well. As far as a home is concerned, I rarely see any manifestations. Once I have performed the solemn rite of exorcism of a place, I tell the owners or occupiers of the house. To let me know if they have any further problems or signs of disturbance."
Getting to the root of exorcism and possession is always going to be hard, without having insight into the faith and the practice understanding it will be a struggle. Speaking with Father Thomas allows us to peek inside the otherwise secret practice that is exorcism.
Despite differences in any society or culture, you could find in many of their folklore common imaginary about the supernatural. Since the earliest human civilization, there have been stories about people returning from the grave needing to feed upon humans to substance themselves. Legends of these creatures are told across the global including Japan with its folklore holding some morbid myths such as the Hone-onna.In Japan’s lore, yokai are malevolent supernatural entities often created by the returning spirit of a human or animal to been wronged in life seeking revenge. However, even undying love may give rise to an undead creatures. When a woman dies still desiring to stay with their family or lover, her spirit manifest into a hone-onna. This yokai will appear as a young, beautiful woman disguising her true form of a rotten walking corpse or skeleton.In legends, the hone-onna is a ghost which returns wanting to continue the love of those she had in life. She would arise from the grave at night and return to the home of her family or lover. The yokai’s suddenly appearance would shock those grieving her passing, yet be joyous of the woman’s return unaware of her true nature. Myths mention, even hone-onna may not even be aware herself of what she transforming into.In lore, unsuspecting husbands or lovers would often fall victim to this yokai. The hone-onna visited the male at night to engage in intimacy where she feed’s off their life force then leaving in the morning. This course of action usually resulted in the man’s death. Only those strong in will or of could see pass the disguise and maybe able to intervene. Often in stories, man who been warned of the hone-onna still continued to embrace the ghost, even at the cost of their lives.Hone-onna, in several myths, continue to exist long after killing their lovers. Either a wish to continue living or be embraced by someone, these yokai carry on appearing at night seducing young men and substance them by extracting their life force. In some forms of Japanese media, the hone-onna been the setting for tragic love stories.
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Dec 2. 2017
Beautiful morning to wake up to: 32 degrees, light breeze from the north, a magnificent sunrise peeking over the treetops in the woods across the road.
I put on some water for tea, then went outside to sprinkle a cupful of sunflower seeds on my gravel driveway. Looking out across the prairie, I thanked God for his wonderful creation and then went back inside to sit by the window in my bentwood rocker and watch as the birds drop by for breakfast. The bluejays swoop in almost immediately; I’m convinced they watch from the trees, patiently waiting for me to feed them. I don’t know if bluejays can count, but they always appear in a group of four. They seem to live peacefully amongst themselves in their bird-community, but only to a point: they chase one another away as they jealously defend their one-square-foot of feeding ground.
Today is the first day of shotgun season for deer. The blasts from shotguns in the woods have been echoing off my farm buildings since early this morning. (If I go for a walk this evening, I’ll be sure to wear my orange vest.)
The deer follow a path that comes across the hilltop from the west and goes between the edge of my property and the neighbor’s cornfield. This morning I see a good-sized deer standing nonchalantly in the middle of the road, followed by two smaller ones making their way up the trail. I’m surprised they’re following the trail right into the woods. A few minutes later, I hear a volley of gunfire. My neighbors will have a freezer-full of venison to get them through the winter.
This weather is perfect for jet contrails. When the jetstream is calm, and the temperature at high altitude is around -34 degrees, the contrails can last for hours. I live on the south-to-north and east-to-west air traffic routes, so as the number of contrails increase they make criss-cross patterns in the sky, forming precise geometrical patterns and triangles. I sit in my rocking chair and drink tea and feel as though I’m watching an artist paint a picture on a canvas of blue sky.
Watching the airplanes sparks a memory. Shortly after moving to Salt Lake City in the mid-1970s I awoke one morning, threw some gear in my backpack, drove six hours south to Arches National Park and headed off into the desert.
Arches is a world so different from our everyday lives that you can’t help but feel as though you’re standing on Mars: towering red pinnacles riddled with sandstone arches; a desert floor of fine, red sand that imprints permanent red stains on your white tee-shirts and socks; and skies so clear and so deep-blue that you want to cry like that guy on YouTube who saw a double-rainbow.
The Viewing Area and some easy hiking trails are near the park entrance, but I wanted wilderness: I hiked deep into the 120 square miles of pristine desert that stretches to the faraway horizon. I followed the narrow trail that leads from the rocks to the flatlands, and then I kept on going: I hiked until just before sundown, and set up camp as the stars began to appear in a perfect dome of sky above me.
I didn’t have a tent, because it rarely rains in the desert, and mosquitoes are almost non-existent in the dry air. I found a flat area, moved a few rocks, and rolled out my sleeping bag. I sat down and ate some snack food, drank some water from my canteen, and then stretched out on my sleeping bag. The fading sunlight had long ago disappeared, and now the starlight from a billion galaxies cast a pale, eerie glow across the desert. I felt tiny, like a speck of dust in a vast universe, all alone and surrounded by deep silence. It was a kind of beauty that I’d never experienced before.
But then something unexpected happened: high above me, in the darkness between the stars, I saw the clearance lights of an airplane moving silently across the sky. I felt mesmerized, and my gaze became fixated on those faraway lights.
I thought to myself, “Wow, there are people in that plane.” I pictured the dim lighting in the airplane cabin, flight attendants serving drinks, and smiling passengers chatting with one another.
I began to realize where I was: alone in the wilderness, miles from civilization, far away from friends and family and strangers on the street, and waitresses in restaurants and fellow believers in church and the mailman who delivers the mail; and right then, like a bolt of lightning, I discovered a new emotion: I felt lonely. It wasn’t the loneliness that we feel in our normal everyday lives, where we can pick up a phone and call a friend. This was an abyss of ‘aloneness’ that went deep into my soul.
I began to feel desperate. I wanted so badly to see another person that I rolled up my sleeping bag, threw everything into my backpack, and began hiking across the desert in the darkness. Whatever the cost, I was determined to talk to another person…. I would hike back to the parking lot, jump in my car, and find a convenience store or a late-night restaurant and talk to someone, anyone…
….but I couldn’t find the trail. In the darkness everything blended together, a jumble of sand and rocks. I walked back and forth, up into the rocks and back down, feeling panicked and alone.
I finally gave up. I went back into the desert, rolled out my sleeping bag, and drifted off to sleep.
The sun arose in the morning, and I was okay again. The beauty of the desert and the warmth of the sun drives away the darkness on the inside as well as the outside. I took my time hiking back out, stopped to take a few pictures, and felt happy to be surrounded by nature.
Now, 40 years later, I’m planning another trip to the desert, to the same spot, but this time for three days. I’ve learned a few things, and I know what to expect. And I think to myself, “What a wonderful world”.
The Purunmachos of Karijia are 600 year old sarcophagi located in Karijia, near Chachapoyas, Peru.
Is what we're seeing in the distance there the ice wall spoken of by so many? This jump was made by a team of Pararescuemen from over twenty thousand feet.
We have a long way to go before we fully understand the universe we live in, until that time we should continue to question everything, that is after all how the biggest scientific breakthroughs have come about.
That’s where footage like this can become an invaluable asset. It offers a glimps of things from a height most would not normally be able to view.
Many have spoken of the ice wall surrounding a flat earth, most ancient cultures up until 500 years ago when Copernicus came up with his theory, accepted it as a fact.
So is it the ice wall we’re looking at in the distance in this footage?
The 8,913th Annual Halloween Black Light Monster Festival and Inaugural Great Old Ones Rodeo…
This report was unfortunately delayed due to no fault of my own (of course)… Following the events of the Festival and Rodeo, as I was making my way back to my Luxury Oubliette (one of the perks of being the one who makes all this nonsense up) I was accosted in one of the dark twisty back alleys that serve as side streets in Downtown UM, by one of my renegade doppelgangers who was left over from the Moon Dance And Masquerade Party. He was wearing a clever disguise (one of those plastic “Groucho Nose, moustache and glasses thingies) so I was caught completely unawares - I mean it totally fooled me…
He threw a potato sack over my head (one large enough to fit easily over my antlers) and I found myself whisked away! When the sack was finally removed (and the potatoes pulled out of my mouth and ears) I found myself aboard the flagship of the Renegade Beer Balloon Fleet, facing the Fleet Admiral, Old “Tipsy” Bill Tipler himself!
While I was understandably upset and fearing for my sanity… um… nope, actually I gave up on that a long time ago… fearing for my um… uh… Antlers! Yeah that’s it! Fearing for my antlers, I bravely faced Admiral Tipler and heroically shouted out “Please don’t hurt me!” as I feel to my knees (hard to do for moose) and bravely groveled before him….
He blearily looked at me with his bloodshot eyes, belched rather loudly and replied… “Nah. We ain’t gonna hurt youse… We jest wanna knock ya over da head and let yer dopplegr… dokkleganner… douoblegan… this guy, take yer place!”
Still exhibiting my normal legendary courage I whined “But why? He’s just like me! In fact he IS me! Just me from a couple hours ago… sorta kinda…”
He sneered, listed heavily to port (left is “port” right? I mean yes? Not right, that’s starboard or something isn’t it?) and passed gas heavily enough that the zeppelin we were on lurched forward 50 feet and several small fires started, which the crew scrambled to put out before the hydrogen in the gas bags could ignite…
“Yeah, he’s youse alright. But he’s youse what we controls. Ya see? Yer what passes fer the most inflewinchal … influenza… enchilada ..um… most read reporter of what goes on here at da UM complex, lord help us… And we wants sum bedder reportin’… We’uns er tired of the bad news youse been puttin’ out about us’ns… We wants the people to like and trust us guys, sos we ken swoop down and steal their nachos and beer and stuff! Ya see?”
Well, a few more hours of that and I almost lost my ability to think in coherent(ish) English, I was even loosing my grasp of my native Okie language! I knew I had to escape or eventually I would turn into a total blithering idiot (even more-so than normal anyway) and also to stop their insidious plan while I still knew how to spell insidious!
But they had trapped me well, and I spent many days locked away in the bilge of that huge ship (which was actually nicer than my oubliette), swabbing the decks with a beat up old three strand mop, trying to clean up the spilled stale beer, and other less savory liquids and such…
Meanwhile my double – the me of several hours ago, from last July, was unleashed upon you, the unsuspecting and helpless denizens of the great, sprawling UM complex… Causing no end of trouble, confusion and mayhem as he/I/whatever took over my life and my duties…
Time wore on and finally my chance came… Two days ago, the fleet made a resupply stop at one of the several supply depots/breweries they had created around the Complexes vast land holdings… This one was deep in the heart of the Pointless Forest, halfway up the steep slopes of Nosebleed Ridge. While the crew topped off the hydrogen in the gas bags, and restocked the coolers and snack cabinets, I made my way through a small porthole (after removing my antlers with a handy allen wrench) and slid down the anchor cable… After re-attaching my antlers I was off like a shot through the forest, down the slope and across the Great Eastern Artillery Impact Zone (both A and and then it was a short hop across the Great Outer Moat and back into the UM complex proper…
I found my double back in my Oubliette reclining on my bed of nails, eating bon-bons and reading the latest issue of Floggers Quarterly… I was further enraged when I saw that he/I had already worked the crossword puzzle! After a short tussle, I had him tied up and turned over to the levels Chief Inquisitor – who was happy to have a new “friend” to “play” with… Then I set about the grim task of correcting my doubles mischief…
Fortunately the me of a couple hours ago is an idiot… A lazy idiot, who had done nothing at all – so no harm done!
Now… On with the long overdue Report of the 8,913th Annual Halloween Black Light Monster Festival and Inaugural Great Old Ones Rodeo… (and you thought you could escape this?... Bwah-haw-haw! <Insert other evil laughs here>)
Precisely at 9:23 and 15 and a half seconds, the Grand Rodeo Parade kicked off the festivities… The parade route started at the Great Central Administration Building and made it’s way out to the Great Eastern Artillery Impact Zone (A)… Riding out in front were the Junior Cowpersons… Cowthings?… CowCthuloids?… Whatever… These eager, bright and cheerful… okay less grim… Young(ish) creatures of the Great Outer Darkness, stalked, slithered, oozed and otherwise moved down the cobblestone streets of Downtown UM… Most were riding… something… somethings that were even more indescribable than they were, and as they passed – to a loud and hearty cheer from the very impressed crowd… (Seriously, they were impressed… In much the same way a reluctant person used to be impressed into the navy), the cobblestones cracked, split, bubbled and melted under their weight, body acids and in some cases furnace like heat…
Next came the battalions of Rodeo Clowns walking bravely down the melted street, waving to the crowds as the battalions of Floggers following closely behind “urging them on”…
Following the Floggers, came several mobs of zombie “clowns”, all gaily decked out in their tattered sackcloth and bright iridescent paint… As the zombies flung small candies (and the occasional “loose” body part) to the crowds, they were kept in neat orderly rows by the help of volunteers equipped with cattle prods – all to the great delight of the crowds…
Finally came the “big guys”… The stars of this years Rodeo…Leading the pack (though it was hard to tell on that cosmic of a scale) was none other than Cthulhu himself! Looking very dapper and “Western” in his Chaos Beast Hide Chaps, Wooly vest and topped off with his famous 10,000 gallon hat, he stalked …er… moseyed down the street one hand-appendage hooked in his pistol belt and the other waving his monstrously huge hat to the crowd… His mouth tentacles were cleverly waxed into a semblance of a handlebar moustache and at his side stalked his former wife Idh-yaa, dressed as a really huge, monstrous version of Dale Evans… Following closely behind were their four offspring. Gthanothoa, dressed in a voluminous leather duster and sporting the legendary Shining Trapezohedron as a nifty buckle on his gun belt. Beside him strode his younger brother Ythogtha, (“Froggy” to his friends) decked out in his favorite Hopalong Cassidy Costume… Rounding out the trio of Cthulhu’s sons was Zoth-Ommog (“Zoggie” to his friends –of which it is said he has none)… “Zoggie” sported a natty three piece suit made of armadillo hide, and like his older brother Gthanothoa, wore chaps (of squiggle hide) and a large Cowboy hat made of Kelp…
Following closely came their little sister Cthylla… Her father’s light and joy, little Cthylla is the spitting image of her dad… Right down to the cute mass of writhing tentacles around her mouth parts… Dressed similar to her favorite cartoon character “Jessie” from Toy Story (complete with red yarn wig for hair) Little Cthylla was definitely a crowd favorite…
There was a lot of talk about this second appearance of other Cthulhu and his former wife Idh-yaa… And keen eyed observers (who were not otherwise turned to mummies, or into gibbering lunatics - not that anyone would notice around here - by the mere sight of the Cthulhu family) could spy a ring on Idh-yaas… um…finger?... Tentacle?.. Claw?... Perhaps a retaking of vows in the future?
Following the parade – and the policing up of the catatonic/immolated/gibbering masses- the Rodeo began at the Artillery Impact Zone (A) – where they couldn’t do much more damage…
The events of the day included, Squiggle Wrangling; Hounds Of Tindalos Roundups; Demon Roping; Rope Twirling and Brontosaurus Broncho Riding…
As this was a charity event there were no champions crowned… Just good, clean, wholesome, chaotically evil fun for the whole family! There was one final humorous note to the festivities… It seems that Cute Little Cthylla really fell for the squiggles that were featured in the “juniors” events… Seeing that the Head Mod encouraged the crowd to “rustle up a few squiggles for the little lady”… The crowd stormed the arena and for the first time in recorded history, squiggles ran AWAY from UM members rather than the other way around! … Soon little Cthylla was the proud owner of a flock of rather disgruntled and rather frightened squiggles…
Following the Rodeo and the bar-b-q that accompanied it, the Halloween Black Light Monster Fest commenced… The party lasted well into the night, and we had the best year of costumes ever (and this was the 8,913rd consecutive annual event so that’s saying something!)… The costumes were so good in fact that several actual monsters were in attendance and no one noticed! Most notable among the costumes was the person who showed up dressed as a Mummy Dressed as a Clown, Dressed as a Librarian… And we all know how creepy Librarians are! However she was disqualified when it was discovered that it was UM’s own Head Librarian Lotta “Dusty” Tomes and she hadn’t even bothered to change out of her work clothes into a costume…
For the first time, the Aliens from the Alien Space Saucer Fleet(s) were invited to the party… These guys, gals and things from alien worlds are quickly becoming UM favorites and they sure know how to party…. They even helped out with the refreshments… After a few hours the “eats” were running low, so the First Alien Space Saucer Fleet (not the second and third ones they created by time travel) zipped up to the UM Lunar Complex and back in record (faster than light) time and gathered up the food and drink from four hours ago and brought it forward… So we got double the refreshments at half the cost (and gained another Alien Space Saucer Fleet)…
Music was more-or-less provided by the newly pardoned Noggin Knockers band and they played loud and with great spirit (if not great skill)… As the dancing progressed and Idh-yaa was constantly being asked to dance, Cthulhu was persuaded to take a turn on the drums… Watching him play with all eight (or so) arms going and even his mouth parts tentacles grasping drumsticks was an awe inspiring (and deafening) sight, and literally mind-numbing…
Heck of a party!
Eventually the party started breaking up, even the Cthulhu family had to leave (poor little Cthylla was starting to yawn and no one wanted to be around when that happened!). So they gathered up their four kids, all the squiggles the kids decided to keep and used the Shining Trapezohedron on Gthanothoa’s belt to interdimensionally travel back home to R’lyeh,
I stayed on for a short while to help organize the zombie janitor crews in cleaning up, then made my way back toward my cozy little luxury oubliette… when I met myself…
We’ll have to do this again next year (provided the cosmos survives this one)!
Please feel free to comment with your thoughts, and also a description of your costume, and activities… Also, whoever took Alien Space Saucer Crewthing Gleph home with them, please bring it back… It’s the only one they have that can make coffee the way the Admiral likes it…
Posting this in my blog so it'll be easier to find at a later date (I will also edit it to add the suggested songs) when I need it.
I've started the planning of my 30th birthday (early planning since I have friends and family interstate and those who need to give their bosses notice) party which will not be until the start of Feb ( 6 days after my birthday).
I would like song suggestions, my party theme is late 80s all 90s and up to 2010 dress.
Music I would like to be anywhere from mid 80s to 2010, please feel free to leave song suggestions
Not hiring anyone at this point instead will use laptop or ipod for music.
With the evening slanting through the yellows and reds that provide a stained glass effect of fooling ones eye into almost believing it could be just another summer evening out the windowpane comes the last of the reaping... for tonight falls the last light of Samhain.
The beds of promise and bounty have all yielded up their fruits and their bodies laid to rest in the compost bins while their summer beds are tucked under thick mulches. The last moment ripest of seeds before the frosts come have been gleaned. That which is left is left for other reapers than us.
The devils have danced around their fires for a night.. and tucked away their masks for another year. The offerings of Hallows Eve have been anticipated. The sweet savoring of anticipation for spooky has been fulfilled and now the gentler time of this dying season can lay it's leaves and frosts upon us. We are thankful in this time of final turning to the white sleep of death.
For now comes the time to enjoy the reaping, tucked away in our blankets and burrows. Now comes the time of fattening up on the fattening up of the earth. Now is the time to refuse the dearth to come while the sun goes to reap other fields for the last time.
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Do we really have a need to know or a need to prove our points of view? What role plays ego, vanity and narcissism in this light?
I think that we have a need to know. Knowledge is power, but more important than knowledge is the power gained by confirmation of our view of reality. Thus we have a horde mentality, you know, when individuals like to make clans. It is not anything unusual, it gives a sense of security, acceptance and power. Truth is hard to grasp, on the other hand since it is hard to grasp a much easier shortcut to feeling of stability security and power is through associating with fellow clan members and confirming your own points. Everybody likes it, myself included.
So how do we grow? If everybody would just confirm everything you say that would be pretty dull. So we need a tension, but the tension comes naturally since there are no two individuals with exactly the same view of reality, and when a view of reality is challenged a defense mechanism starts. Here we have one intersting thing. We may divide people here. There are those who like logic and truth and seeking the truth the hard way, and then there are those who stick with the clan and just fogging things evading the truth. Ego, vanitiy and narcissism is satisfied. The beast is fed. The problem is that those who seek harder rarely know if they are right. They doubt themselves, groving insecure because no one supports them since they break the dogma of the clan and the ego suffers. So what is better?
Hello everyone. Last weekend my mum and her BF went camping in West Virgina, while they were out riding along the trails (They were quad-biking) they passed an old tunnel, my mum took a pic with her iPhone and showed me this image:
Which seems to show an odd v-shaped object. While it may have simply been a camera burp, or the strap of the phone case, this image taken moments later shows no sigh of the anomaly:
I'm not saying this is a ghostly photo, i just wanna hear your thoughts on what this could have been.
Attention: Humans by Marco M. Pardi mpardi.com
"People in our culture have a morbid tendency to avoid blame, because they do not wish to take the trouble to change their conduct in any way: blame-avoidance and blame-transference are therefore endemic amongst us. These are substitutes for repentance and renewal."
BEHAVIOR RESEARCH PROJECT (Texas) 1951
"Man sacrifices his health in order to make money. Then he sacrifices money to recuperate his health. And then he is so anxious about the future that he does not enjoy the present; the result being that he does not live in the present or the future; he lives as if he is never going to die, and then dies having never really lived."
The Dalai Lama
He who cannot dance claims the floor is uneven. Hindu saying.
All comments welcome and provided a response.
Humans, we recently became aware that one or more of your number published a plea that you no longer refer to solitary mass murderers as "lone wolves". While we wolves have not seen this publication and therefore cannot give it due credit, we, the wolves, wish to enhance the theme with information and thoughts by which you, with your self declared intellectual superiority might benefit.
First, we remind you that you are animals. Oh? Think not? What are you then, plants? Stones? We find it curious that an animal which bristles at being called an animal uses so many comparisons to other animals. You say someone eats like a pig, is stubborn as a mule, reproduces like rabbits, and drinks like a fish. Yet you say someone is brave as a lion, has a memory like an elephant, is agile as a mountain goat, sly as a fox, wise as an owl, and noble as an eagle. Even one of your classic civilizations credited us. Remember the legend of the two infant brothers raised by one of our female wolves? Of course, when the boys grew up Romulus murdered Remus and went on to found Rome. We suspect we should have seen that coming. But doubtless you can think of more examples.
Second, as animals you, like any other species of plant or animal exist only through the relationship you have with your environment. Sure, you have developed endless technology to intervene between you and the normal variations and processes in "nature". But in truth, you are the Apex Invasive Species, you are the Apex Predator on this planet. You have spread your teeming masses to every livable continent on this planet, despoiling everywhere including Antarctica. Your "pesticides" are found in the body fat of almost every species no matter where they are. You claim to need these pesticides to assure your crops. Yet every year you throw out millions of tons of food before it ever reaches the market. Why? It's not aesthetically pleasing. Or, you want to ensure high prices. Your plastics are found in the dead bodies of animals you will never see.
You came into our forests, thriving ecosystems for a broad spectrum of biodiversity, and you stripped them bare for an extremely narrow ecosystem you know as pastureland to raise cattle and sheep, animals which require huge amounts of fresh water and which emit even larger volumes of deadly methane gas. You then force these animals into slaughter houses where, if they are subject to your religious laws such as kosher or halal, you slit their throats and let them stagger around in their own blood until they collapse. Of course, most of you don't do this; you allocate the dirty work to butchers who will wrap the meat in pretty packages for you. You cannot stomach the reality of getting food for yourself. You eat some and throw the rest away. Our cousins, the coyotes, have long known they can subsist entirely on the dumpsters outside your restaurants and fast food joints.
You came into our forests to kill us when in fact you destroyed our food source and laid out a buffet of cattle and sheep we had little choice but to take our sustenance from. You gas our dens to kill our children so they will not grow up to sustain the balance with our prey animals such as deer and elk, animals you want to kill for your own amusement or because, having killed their natural predator they have become overpopulated. You claim hunting is to "put meat on the table" when the money you spent on a hunting vehicle, fuel, high powered rifle and ammunition, hunting license and tags would keep meat from the local grocery store on your table for many months if not years. No, you just enjoy feeling the power of killing an unarmed animal as in those "canned hunts" so popular in States like Texas. You kill an average of 96 African elephants a day, taking the ivory for trinkets and leaving the animal to rot. You kill scores of rhinos yearly taking only the horn the powder of which you think will make your pitiful penises erect. You de-fin live sharks, leaving them to die a miserable death of starvation while you cook the fins for soup. You torture bulls to death, even setting their horns on fire for your amusement. And, sadly, the list goes on.
You raise populations of fur bearing animals, including "Man's best friend", in cages to electrocute them for your fur trimmed fashion garments and soft gloves made from dog skin.
You "introduced" us (we call it "returned" us) into parts of the northwest United States to show how good you are, how ecologically advanced you are. What happened? The ecosystem quickly began recovering. Streams that had become fast moving torrents yielding flash flooding and unsuitable conditions for fish, beavers, and a multitude of other animals began returning to a state which supports the balance of life. How so? After you had trapped and shot us to near extinction the deer and elk were then free to wade into the wetlands, where they had been vulnerable to us as they sank a bit into the mud, and eat the young shoots growing there. Those shoots would have grown into the plants that stabilized the stream, keeping it from eroding the banks and making the water unlivable and dangerous. As we returned, the deer and elk avoided those young shoots and the streams returned to a livable ecosystem. And now you want to trap, gas, and shoot us again.
Recently one of your "intelligent" hunters shot and killed a family therapy dog from ten feet away. He claimed he thought it was one of us. Apparently his only familiarity with us comes from the Big Bad Wolf type cartoons you scare your children with, just as the only familiarity so many of your self-styled "cowboys" have with cattle is the drawing of Elsie on their milk carton.
We know of no other animal which kills for enjoyment on the scale you do. You even kill each other in massive numbers. You gut programs that help people live healthy and educated lives in favor of programs to develop even deadlier weapons for killing each other. No other animal on the face of this Earth is so consumed by and dedicated to the mass extermination of its own kind. No other animal on the face of this Earth claims divine sanction from some spiritual being as the justification for exterminating people who do not believe in or worship this particular being.
For these reasons and many more we, the wolves, demand you cease and desist from calling your murderers, whether killers of a few or killers of many, "lone wolves". That is a despicable slander against our good name and against our long standing place in nature. In fact, we can think of no greater slander than calling one of us "human".
I was born in Lexington Kentucky, and raised (during my early years) in a satellite town just outside of Lexington called Georgetown, where most of my family is from. My mother was a elementary school teacher, while my father worked for the local water treatment plant. They met due to my grandmother (my mother's mother) working as a receptionist at the water plant. My parents married in 1989, I was born in 1993, and they divorced in 1995. I don't even hardly remember them being together. They were both in their mid to late upper 30's when they had me, and I was their only child.
My mother is an exceptional woman. She was raised as a Baptist preacher's kid which was of course, an incredibly abusive home. She was the oldest of three, and was the one child that for some reason got the full brunt of all the physical and verbal abuse of her father. Of course on the outside to the general public he was a model citizen, yet in the home he was an abusive hypocrite. Her mother on the other hand, was more simply another victim, yet her silence in the face of this abuse was still essentially compliance nonetheless. Yet despite her situation in the home, she was able to greatly excel greatly in school. School was her only safe place, where she could excel and be rewarded for her efforts, as opposed to back home which was torture. She loved school. So much so, that as far back as she could remember she decided that she wanted to be a school teacher. Never did she ever consider anything else. Schooling was her life, and she would later go on to put herself through college and get a masters degree + in childhood education. She got herself a job without anyone else's assistance. She had to learn how to act like an adult in the grown world and to fend for herself at an early age, since her parents were never any real advocates who would be there to look out for her. My mother dedicated her life to inspiring and helping young children. Because of her tremendous success in the face of adversity, she holds others to the highest standards. I can honestly say in all the years that I've known her, that she has not once ever lied, ever cheated, and has always abided by the rules. She's never even had a single speeding ticket. All of this isn't to say that she's somehow 'perfect'. My mother isn't without flaws (and trust me, there are plenty. Mostly due to her abuse as a child, and the horribly traumatic experiences she's had along with me over the years), but the point I wish to emphasize here is that she is the very definition of a survivor. She's good hearted (even though she has her moments that I'll explain more about later), is extremely intelligent, and has a strong will with a capacity to succeed. She has always been the one advocate I've ever had in my life. Without her, there'd have been no way I ever could've survived.
My father on the other hand is a different story. My father was raised in a situation far worse than my mother was. More so I'm guessing than any of us will ever truly know. Whereas my mother's father was a religious hypocrite, my father's father was just about the lowest thing that ever crawled out from under a rock. At least my mother's father pretended to be a moral upstanding citizen. My father's father on the other hand was unapologetically open about his lecherous behavior. He was proud of it. (in fact I would even possibly go so far as to say he was a complete sociopath) My grandfather was a wife beater, who never worked a day in his life, proudly said "that's what I have the b**** here for", was an open racist who never referred to a black person as anything other than the 'N' word, physically and verbally (possibly even sexually, we don't really know) abused his children (specifically my father), and despite all of this was somehow never on drugs or alcohol and grew up in a kind loving family (once again, possibly just born a sociopath). I don't know my father's true history since he rarely would ever talk about it, but what I do know is that he was abused in numerous was by his father all through the years, and never received any assistance for it. My father absolutely 'loved' his mother though, who constantly coddled him and 'took care of him' all growing up.
Now, as for my father himself, there's a lot that happens to be a major mystery about him. As to what exactly 'caused' his behaviors that I'm about to express to you, I don't truly know. I don't think this can simply all be blamed on the abuse he suffered, as we are all ultimately responsible for our own actions. Nevertheless, there are a number of possible contributing factors about him that should be taken into consideration. I'll merely describe his behaviors themselves, and mention some possible causes. Just keep in mind, these possible causes are not definitive. Having said that, lets move on...
My father had an explosive temper. He never became physically violent, but he would brake things, throw things, pin people down and yell at them, and scream till he got red in the face. And these outbursts of his could easily be brought on by the most mundane things. There were numerous times in which he showed absolutely no signs of empathy towards other people. (i.e. he got angry when I was a baby at my crying so he nearly chocked me to death by stuffing tons of bread to my throat to shut me up, laughed hysterically when he taught me at the age of two 'how to shoplift' from Wal-Mart, was obsessed with revenge and getting even with people and would set out to destroy their lives in any way possible and would haunt them till the day they die, etc.) Now, my mother thought that he was just lazy and incompetent (possibly due to his own lazy and incompetent father), but at the same time he showed signs of possibly suffering from something else. Like I said previously, we don't really know. What we do know however, was that he had extreme difficulty remembering and following directions at work, and in doing chores at home, and in keeping up with basic things like bills and other typical adult errands. It wasn't just that he was lazy (don't get me wrong, he was lazy, but there seemed to be more to it then that), as he showed numerous signs of simply having mental difficulty keeping up with and completing basic tasks. And it certainly wasn't intelligence, cause if you engaged him on the right topic he'd quickly be able to show above average levels of intelligence. Yet of course these same problems carried over into his schooling as well. This is why my mother and I (and a number of psychologists) have considered him to have possibly been born with a strong case of Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD), on top of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). He was officially diagnosed at one point with Explosive Personality Disorder (EPD), but other things that have been considered are Oppositional Defiant Disorder (ODD) and Sociopathy.
Now beyond all of that, my father was also a tremendous nerd. And I mean NERD. I'm talkin' old-school nerd, before nerd became somewhat cool. He loved all things superhero's, comic books, etc. He was a tremendous Star Wars / Star Trek fan, and loved everything Science Fiction and Fantasy. But most of all, he LOVED movies. He considered himself a 'movie enthusiast' and a 'movie collector'. He always had an entire wall of his house (biggest wall he could find near the TV) with shelves and shelves stacked full to the brim with movies. He would spend countless hours just sitting down obsessively watching movies (and TV shows btw, but mostly movies), and if anyone ever tried to break him away from it and bring him back into the real world to deal with any real world problems, that's when he would lose it and go into one of his explosive tantrums. He was a total Escapist. For those that don't know, an escapist is someone who in some way tries to 'mentally escape' into 'another world' in their head. It's basically what nerds do when they 'play pretend' in their minds and imagine themselves in whatever fictional world they (or someone else) dream up. In many cases, this is brought on as a learned defense mechanism in order for abuse victims to 'mentally escape' an otherwise inescapable situation. Of course at the same time we all do it to an extent whenever we go watch a movie or read a book, it's just a bit more extreme in these cases. So that is essentially my father.
Still with me so far? Because we've only scratched the surface. So now that my parent's stories are outta the way, on to my own back story in the next entry...
This is going to be a weekly blog series regarding my own journey of total life transformation.
We all have things in our lives that we wish we could change, things we could improve. However my story is a story from the absolute bottom up. There are many things I could say in regards to how and what exactly led me to be in the situation that I'm in today. I could probably write a whole book on this subject alone. Nonetheless, I feel it necessary to start this out by sharing the highlights with you as to where exactly I am in life at the moment, and what exactly led to me being here in the first place.
(note: I will most likely post another entry this week that goes much more in-depth into my backstory, but I figured I'd begin with the highlights)
My name is Richard Lee. I'm a 24 year old white male living in Lexington Kentucky. I have no friends. I have no family. I have no love life. I have no job. I have no formal education beyond high school. I have no driver's license or car. The only person in my life is my mother, whom I live with currently. I'm still fully dependent on her at the moment, and yes, this causes great strain and humiliation. I have Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD), have suffered with Social Anxiety and Social Phobia, and have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) due to childhood sexual abuse I suffered at the hands of my own father. I've struggled all through school (not because of lack of intelligence, but because of the psychological issues listed above), and have struggled maintaining a steady job as well. The severe depression that has accompanied me all through my life due to the issues listed above, has lead me to spend many years contemplating suicide. Self-loathing became my natural state. In order to cope with the pain, I would mentally escape into 'other worlds' inside my head, mostly from nerdy sci-fi fantasy crap and such. I slowly and steadily withdrew from the world, and started to reside more and more inside my own head. Experiential Avoidance became my subconscious go-to mechanism, a reflex response, to any stressor. A psychologist once called it a minor form of 'Disassociation', that's common in sex abuse victims. In fact I'm still a virgin, and have only ever had one 'girlfriend' for a brief time back in high school. The whole idea of sex actually scares me to some extent. I'm rather conservative in regards to that whole subject. And yet unfortunately at the same time, I'm an absolute hopeless romantic, a total sucker for romance related anything. This of course causes some of the greatest levels of pain, knowing (or at least feeling) that I'll never know true love. I'd like to for once in my life be able to understand and experience what is supposed to be the greatest of all emotional connections. Though it's undoubtedly unfair to drag anyone into this mess of a life. To even consider such nonsense at my current state is just laughable at best. At the end of the day I'm just a loser nerd with no family, friends, job, or education, living with my mother. What's worse is, no one knows or understands any of this. When they look at me they simply see a good-for-nothin' lazy mooch living off his mother's income who won't just go out and get a job. And when this stuff is explained to most people, they simply say things like "the past is the past," or "get over it and move on." I don't wish to just make excuses, but I can't just dismiss my psychology and 'get over it.' It's not that simple. Essentially, I'm all alone. No one understands. And no one seems to care.
I'm so sick of this life. All I want is the same things that most people have that they take for granted: Family, friendship, an education, a career, love... Something to be proud of. Some sense of accomplishment at least. I want to be able to die one day knowing that someone will miss me. That I made some sort of impact that benefitted the lives of others. To not feel so ashamed of myself all the time...
I've spent so many years trying to avoid my problems, because it was all just too much to bear, but if I continue down this road I'm on I'll lose all of my 20's holed up in a room in my mother's house avoiding the world. I'll be the very definition of what people mock and make fun of when they joke about 'loser white virgin nerds living with their parents into adulthood.'
That's why I am changing everything right here and now. I don't need to just fix a few issues in my life, I need a total life transformation. A self-metamorphosis if you will. I'm starting this blog as a means of charting my progress, and hopefully so I can get some good advise and healthy feedback and encouragement from some of you.
So with all that being said, these are my ultimate life goals:
- To reach a state of total independence
- To get and sustain a good job
- To go back to school and major in Psychology (hopefully even a doctorate)
- To begin a good paying career helping other people like me overcome psychological trauma and abuse
- To become the right person for and find my soul mate, wherever she may be
- To start a family, to actually have a family some day
- And to become ever-more spiritually attuned to the things in this universe (I know I haven't touched on this subject yet, but I promise I will in later entries)
I realize that this is just a free blog on UM, and that starting a weekly blog series on such a huge long-term endeavor may best be served some place else, but many of the people on here have become like family to me. Maybe it's because I have no friends or family of my own that I'm so quick to draw such emotional attachments to people on a computer screen, but nonetheless that's how I feel. I couldn't think of a better place to open up and share all of this with then here with all of you.
Thank you all for reading this, and also for everything else.
I always have two feelings every day no matter what I'm going through at any given moment. A feeling that something negative is going to happen, and the need to be ready for it. I feel like many of the events that are happening in my life mixed with the knowledge I've gained only strengthens this idea. I mean if it were up to me completely I would live the rest of my days somewhere comfortable with my life just enjoying being with her but I feel like even she proves it. She is so strong even physically Its one of the things that attracts me to her so strongly. I feel like once a certain list unknown to me has been fully checked off something insane is going to happen to test our strength in survival. Or, I'm more crazy than I ever imagined and I should get on medication.
The purple dinosaur next to me silently agrees.
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Hey guys, guess who's back?
It's been a while, hasn't it. Well, today, I have something to share with you that has proof. At least 20 pieces of footage, shot on a classic Nintendo 3DS. Let me just go ahead and explain the backstory.
Two months ago, me and my family took a trip to Disney. It was a Tueday, and the rain ended up flodding the parking lot, so we stayed inside of our hotel room. I had brought my ChromeBook with me. I forget exactley what I was doing, something in my Google Drive, when I stumbled upon a backup of my old 3DS' SD Card. On it, I found footage of an event I had long forgotten.
.Me and my friends, Dylan, Jaden, and Thomas were getting ready to get our 3DS's and play some Pokemon. It turns out that Jaden had brought some of his Pokemon Cards. However, we took one look at them and noticed that something was wrong. At least 90% of the cards were fake. Some were easy to tell, as they had attacks that did ridiculous amounts of damage, or had a staggering amount of HP. Others weren't so easy, leading a small group of kids like us to call some of the real cards fake, and vice versa.
Eventually, all of us left Jaden, who had spent good money for some of those cards, over at a little area with beanbags (this was filmed at a summer camp.), while we sat at a table and discussed everything. Over the course, of that discussion, Jaden began acting very paranoid, and often left his area to interrupt our conversation. A peice of footage even shows him frantically yelling at us at one point.
(Continued Tomorrow, in Revision 2.)
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"I go about Greece and ask my fellow Greeks difficult questions."
(NOTE: Please don't take my verbose writing as my attempt to sound smart. I just like to play around with words and try to make it sound complex :P)
Be This Friday, in my Film Class...
I make my way through the labyrinth of desks to my seat, squeezing my way through students who are packed together like sardines. Settling myself down into my chair, I take a gander around the room, observing my peers. Part of my heart sinks as I observe the new classmates. These aren't the same students from last year, you see. These are newcomers who had advanced from the beginner film class they took the year before. The fact that they're newbies isn't the problem, you see. It's that the film students of yesteryear, whom I came to appreciate the presence of, had all graduated. Not only that, my previous film partners, all one grade lower than me, refused to take film class this year. To be quite frank, I don't blame them. My school's Movie Production program is favored by who I consider some of the shallowest pupils my school has to offer. By their attitude and demeanor, I can only assume that they're partaking in the program in hopes of gaining stardom among their peers, and so they can eventually admire their own self-centered faces on the big screen of our school's auditorium. I, on the other hand, enjoy film making for the sake of viewing things in different perspectives and playing with ideas. So basically, although this may sound (and most likely is) narrow minded, I feel like I'm the only innovator in a class full of narcissists.
Anyways, one of the class officers, we'll just call her Stacey, barks at us to form two separate groups. The group I'm in is ordered to go out to the school quad, for a group activity. As we settle ourselves in a circle inside this grassy space, I try to make chit chat with my fellow students. They of course, take to ignoring me. Perhaps because I'm somewhat idiosyncratic with the material and social norms of society, they see this as some sort of evil and therefore shun me for my own individualistic ways. I must assure you, that although the alluring vastness of my mind has rendered me socially maladjusted, I am not in the least unaware of my tone. Therefore, and damn me if my judgments show folly, my classmates are at this moment shrouded in stifling clouds of their own egos. I must say that I was beginning to feel flustered the more and more I thought about my classmates' bigotry.
Stacey takes out a ball of white yarn, and explains to us the rules of a very simple game. While standing in a circle, one of us takes the ball and states one of their interests. Whoever raises their hand in shared agreement gets the ball of yarn tossed to them, whilst the thrower holds on to the string as it unravels in the air. Overtime, as the yarn is passed around to one another, this forms a complex web of unbearably simple interests. As the yarn was being passed from student to student, I couldn't help but think to myself how shallow and simple-minded these people were (although I'm probably no better), after they ignored me in an attitude of arrogance that seems to have encrusted their hearts. I couldn't bear their responses: "My name's Bob and I like playing video games!" "My name's Johanna and I like to ride horses!" I decided that I'd challenge their train of thought. Once the yarn had reluctantly passed to me (by the only student in the class who seems to have any respect for me) I opened fire: "My name's (blank) and I like to pace around my room and think!"
Just so you know, I don't actually spend my time pacing around my room and thinking. Although I do frequently use music as an outlet to daydream, which causes me to go from here to there around my bedroom, since motion stimulates my thought. I said this though, to see how they'd respond. Sadly, they didn't exceed me expectations. The whole class was silent, except for a brave girl who said "Me too!", perhaps being the only one smart enough to realize it as a joke. I kid you not, my peers had absolutely no idea of what to make of my statement. It was as if their faces were saying "This isn't a part of the script!". A student to my right leaned over and told me "Just say that you like air!", like he was trying to save me from my socially awkwardness and his classmates from an abstract perspective.
Needless to say, I felt very pleased with what I said. I had introduced to my classmates' minds a different thought for once. Hopefully they'll see me as even more mysterious, and be even more careful to ignore me next time, for I don't wan't anything to do with them anyways.
Well, that's enough writing for now. Thank you for reading, my friends!
- Hi-NRG Eurobeat Man
In times of trial, I often find myself with a great desire to escape or ignore the problems I face. Although, I know this is not the best course of action, I usually feel no need to fight this desire because in the past, I have had great success with this method. In many cases, I have ignored my problems and they have resolved themselves or someone else found a solution without me even seeking help. I know my luck in this area is bound to run out eventually, but I feel like I want to test it. I want to see just how lucky I can get by ignoring even life’s greatest challenges. It seems crazy, psychotic even. But I need to know. When my luck runs out, perhaps I will begin to regard my issues in a more attentive way but until then, we shall see.
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I haven't been to UM forum in.... years? I'd have to check the dates. It's been a long time.
Off to see if it's the same science vs. religion debating, photo manipulation revealing, conspiracy theorizing, it-wasn't-a-ghost-it-was-probably-swamp-gas-from-Venus (ha!) -ing place it was back then.
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Well it's been a while.
Not sure what made me come in. Thought of doing it many times, but so much going on.
I found a home elsewhere. They do not mock my spiritual beliefs, which is appreciated.
Still friends, offline, with a couple people I met here, all those years ago...
We think about 7 years... I think so..
Well. Still haven't even peeked into the forum. Figured I would post first.
Love too all old friends that may read this.
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I like to practise random acts of kindness - to help make a difference. It can be anything from just making a spontaneous, passing and complimentary remark on what someone is wearing (I love the colour purple) or offering to let someone go before me in a checkout queue. Giving is its own reward - it's enough, a good feeling i.e. I don't expect anything back. So what happened here took me by surprise....
One day I was cycling down a high street when the bike chain somehow jammed/went back on itself. I duly walked the bike to the pavement, turned it upside down (sitting on its saddle) whilst I attempted to disentangle the greasy chain. I was somewhat surprised when a man offered to do this for me! (It was a dirty/oily job!) I explained that it would mean him getting his hands dirty but he didn't mind! He fixed it for me and I gratefully thanked him. He was very cheerful and didn't seem to mind that his hands were now covered in black grease, as were mine.
So I then realised I needed to get my hands clean. I saw a nearby cafe and walked the bike to these premises, thinking I could slip into their toilet and get cleaned up. With my hands so dirty, I thought I would just risk leaving my bike propped against the shop, i.e. unchained....hoping it wouldn't get stolen for the short time it took to get cleaned up. Then, to my amazement, 3 teenagers (it seemed from nowhere but, obviously, they had been watching what had occurred) approached me, smiling, and offered to watch my bike as I went in to clean up! This totally blew me away and was beyond what I could ever have expected or hoped for....it seemed so unusual and blessed! Of course I thanked them and got cleaned up.....
I was left in a state of deep appreciation and amazement.
Expressing spontaneous kindness is a growing movement....