commentary
(0)Before he became a barber, Larron was a student at an old University in an old town. In the center of that town were a few lush acres of grass and trees. "The Square" was a haven for itchy college kids.
Larron often made way to the outside bench, under an elderly Magnolia tree that everyone agreed was the biggest they'd ever seen. There were fresh scratches beneath the lowest of the fat, droopy limbs. Young people liked to climb and swing and beat the tree as far as they were willing to reach. Under and around those scratches were faded marks a generation older. Larron both hated and loved the scars—they were evidence of happy times for anonymous authors, but also vestiges of abuse and apathy toward a beautiful, living thing.
And this was his problem. He saw the good and bad in all. He could not decide the right or wrong of a thing, he strained to locate both, and any ambiguities. He found the dual morality in his friends, family, government, grocers, mailmen, and, of course, his most taxing subject, himself. He could not be wholly good if his mother's life somehow suddenly depended on it. Larron constantly imagined such rough wagers in his head. If only a prophet or a martyr would put a gun to his temple and propose such a thing. Maybe he would try harder. Maybe his problem was simply a struggle of will.
In any event, Larron thought about things too much, and he knew he did. A solution still eludes him. And he has never stopped thinking about the tree, or the bench on which he always sat. Before he left that old town, Larron found a deep appreciation for those two wooden bulks. He missed them more than anything he had seen or heard, or any person he had met in those four years. He misses them like a first love. What makes him even sadder, though, are the marks on the old Magnolia. Not because they exist, but his everlasting indecision about their worth.
Transformers was sick! In a good way, of course. The special effects and the nostalgia were through the roof. I loved it ().
There are whiners. Fanboys and ignorant moviegoers scoff at the cheesy dialogue, over-the-top, oozing drama, and the melodramatic music. Hey, get this: it's TRANSFORMERS. This isn't about the holocaust. It's about DNA-based robots from space who wage a war on Earth. It's good versus evil of the flavor of the 1980s. If you never watched the cartoon, I can see how you might roll your eyes, but still. Get with it.
I felt a sweet rush when Peter Cullen's inimitable voice first boomed from Optimus Prime (he also provided the voice for the cartoon in the 1980s). I need to go dig my old toys out of the attic.
Are you watching? This is the biggest entertainment event ever and it's for a cause I really believe in: cleaning up and maintaining Earth. Maybe if we all go buy some better light bulbs, recycle, turn off the lights, and keep our tires inflated we really can help our planet. Here are some things we can do.
I remember writing about An Inconvenient Truth a year ago, wondering and hoping things would change. Is this the first step or a waste? Let's hope it does a lot of good.
I signed up for Twitter a long time ago, but just started using it yesterday.
The problem is that most of my friends and family whom I associate with in "real life" aren't as tech savvy, and know nothing of things like Twitter, Flickr, and so on. Heck, they're just now realizing "Internet" is not synonymous with "AOL".
So add me if you read this, which is unlikely since I don't link this site from anywhere and hardly anyone knows or cares about it.
I rock.
So, this is what I can do right now. These are some of my best photos taken since July 2006. From then until January 2007, I devoted a lot of my time to taking pictures. I love it. I know how to find and frame a scene, but I'm still working on the technicalities of the machine. I hope that I can work photography into a career at some point, or at least continue to experiment with this passion of mine.
What I really want is to photograph people. Anyone willing?
Photography has helped me to see. I notice things I didn't before and view old scenes differently. The seasons have renewed meaning and a more special understanding. I appreciate nature even more than previously. Colors, patterns, shapes, textures, situations, and settings are each seen and considered in new and better ways. Beauty is found in everything—the Zinnias of my neighbors' flower garden are beautiful in their colorful splendor of summer and in their brown, dying moments of late fall. My camera really has helped me to see the world better. There is something worth seeing everywhere. The beach, the mountains, and all between.
"The camera is an instrument that teaches people how to see without a camera." - Dorothea Lange
One of the easiest ways for a person to prove to me that they're a moron is to mistreat or disregard animals. This quote sums up the reason:
"True human goodness, in all its purity and freedom, can come to the fore only when its recipient has no power. Mankind's true moral test, its fundamental test (which lies deeply buried from view), consists of its attitude towards those who are at its mercy: animals. And in this respect mankind has suffered a fundamental debacle, a debacle so fundamental that all others stem from it."
— Milan Kundera
You really learn about someone when they are tested in the absence of consequences. A person who abuses or kills animals for reasons other than absolute necessity isn't worth knowing. Few things make me more angry.
Maddox gives the iPhone a what for.
You know what I like best about Internet forums, especially those the likes of Fark? Well, if I had to pick just one thing, I guess it would be the complete futility! Whenever there is a heated discussion, we see the unmitigated ignorance, thoughtlessness, apathy, and reckless abandonment of kindness.
Let's say there is a discussion about a person's ability in America to determine his degree of success or failure in life. Wait until there are about thirty comments. Immediately there is a noticeable disregard for objectivity. For a proper discussion there must be consideration of as many factors as possible. In this particular exchange there is no mention of the infinite possibilities for combinations of life factors that entirely affect one's "ability" to "determine" one's "success" or "failure". The quotation marks represent another problem—definitions are different for every person, especially for things like success and failure.
The biggest problem, I think, is that it seems as though many people assume there are universal rules for human activity. Particularly, in this case, there is the example of universal standards for the measurement of success and failure, as well as the availability, quantity, quality of resources and the great number of factors affecting the methods for success. In the US alone there are differences of race, sex, the cycle of poverty, economy, and the fluctuations of each in various regions. There are certainly many more which I wouldn't think of, like the effects of macro- and microeconomics, sociology, and so on.
There are no universal rules. Certitudes need to be dropped as we yield to objectivity.
And kindness. It seems as though we forget about respect when we lack objectivity and disregard true thoughtfulness. That "thoughtfulness" is more important than any attempt of logic or rhetoric in the case of general discussion, or assessment of one's worth. In that regard, a person's intelligence doesn't matter if he truly attempts to think freely, deeply, and honestly. If anything in this post comes close to any type of universal truth, it's that.
"These things will destroy the human race: politics without principle, progress without compassion, wealth without work, learning without silence, religion without fearlessness, and worship without awareness."
“There is only one cause of unhappiness: the false beliefs you have in your head, beliefs so widespread, so commonly held, that it never occurs to you to question them.”
“People mistakenly assume that their thinking is done by their head; it is actually done by the heart which first dictates the conclusion, then commands the head to provide the reasoning that will defend it.”
"Any time you are with anyone or think of anyone you must say to yourself: I am dying and this person too is dying, attempting the while to experience the truth of the words you are saying. If every one of you agrees to practice this, bitterness will die out, harmony will arise."
"As soon as you look at the world through an ideology you are finished. No reality fits an ideology. Life is beyond that. That is why people are always searching for a meaning to life… Meaning is only found when you go beyond meaning. Life only makes sense when you perceive it as mystery and it makes no sense to the conceptualizing mind."
"I'm going to write a book someday and the title will be I'm an Ass, You're an Ass. That's the most liberating, wonderful thing in the world, when you openly admit you're an ass. It's wonderful. When people tell me, 'You're wrong.' I say, 'What can you expect of an ass?'"
"Wisdom tends to grow in proportion to one's awareness of one's ignorance."
"If you just swallow everything I am telling you, I am brainwashing you."
A vault packed with old paper is under my bed. Years ago, when I was even younger, I wrote terrible poems that now fill that box. The more they rhymed, the worse they were. I scratched the paper in this way whenever I felt sad or hopeless. Nobody ever read them, including me. Each served its purpose for a moment and was then buried.
I didn't care that I was a mediocre writer. My little poems were beautiful because they were sincere. Honest creativity is worthy regardless of skill.
I'm still compelled to write lines sometimes. They're still terrible messes of stumbling verse.
While I was sitting in the hospital beside my dead grandfather, I wrote this:
The little plate
is forming under
pressure
with numbers' curves
to be fastened, and
complete
something soon unspeakable
for everyone.
That little plate
calculating the dreadful function
to settle inevitable
heartache,
a redundant instrument of reminder
for something that cannot be forgotten,
to be bolted to the loving and cold
reality.
