I tell you what, I need a vacation. A vacation from this three day weekend. If I don't have anything to do on a long weekend, I get so bored that I seriously feel like I need a vacation afterwards. Naturally, this problem has long been noticeable and the world has come up with a delightful solution: the work week. Yes, the work week was invented to counter a three day weekend that happened several hundred years ago. Some bloke got so fed up on his extended weekend and was too poor to take a vacation, that he invented the work week. In fact, he was so angry that he didn't want to have another three day weekend ever again, so he made the work week five days. There, a brief history of the work week.
Now, what did I do this weekend? Well, I watched 7 movies which is quite disgusting. Well, let's be honest, I watched more like 6.25. Here's how:
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
Meet Joe Black (first time, incredibly moving movie)
The Matrix: Reloaded (only scenes in the Matrix)
The Matrix: Revolutions (only scenes involving action)
Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
The Whole Nine Yards
Casino Royale
I did do a bit of homework Monday afternoon and purchased a few books at Half-Price books during a 20% off sale. That's pretty nice. I also picked up some friends from the airport Monday, so that made me feel like I was doing something. Not too much reading, which is kind of depressing but I just didn't feel much like reading, plus it kept putting me to sleep. I napped and slept a lot this weekend. *sigh* I'm actually looking forward to going to work tomorrow...sort of...well not really. That's why I need a vacation.
p.s. i'm not dissing three day weekends. Only weekends where I don't have anything to do.
May 27, 2008
May 24, 2008
Aluminum Cans
Two days ago, I had a terrifying moment of clarity. I think clarity is the right word. What follows may seem silly, but I'm fairly certain that if people thought like this more often, the world might be a better place.
Most people, I believe, go through the day very glazed or uncomprehending of the world and even the universe around them. I fall into this as well nearly everyday. I think it has something to do with how much thinking power it would take to go on with existing if you were having to always fathom, say, the size of the Earth, distances between stars, how unbelievably cool trees are when they're alive and growing, or how many tons of asphalt make up the United States highway system. Things like that. Who thinks about those every single day? I don't, but sometimes it comes up, and it scares the crap out of me. Two days ago, I was looking at soda cans that we have at my work. We store them in the bathroom and they come in the 36 pack containers and what not and there were probably 8 or 9 containers there. Yes, that's 288 to 324 individual cans constructed of aluminum that very likely will not get recycled. Anyway, let me try to give you an analogy to describe what happened next.
It's like when you're on Google Maps and you're zoomed into your home address or what not. You can see the surrounding streets and that's it. It takes up the whole screen. All of sudden, somebody/thing comes along, takes your mouse wheel and scrolls back, zooming the image out, and out, and out until you're staring at the entire planet. "Well," you say "that's cool and all. What's the big deal?" The big deal comes from the fact that you're still cognizant of being that tiny person on that now minuscule street that you can't even see anymore. It's an incredible dichotomy of feeling. And that's as best I can describe it in so few words. That's what happened when I stared at these soda cans. How many businesses must there be in the US alone that have these many cans? Then the world? Then I thought about the manufacturing plants, spitting out all these cans! Where the hell (pardon me) do all these flippin' cans come from? How have we not run out before now? I'll admit, I freaked out a bit, but hopefully you can see why we don't think like this.
I like to think we block these thought processes because they would cause too much stress or, I don't know, positive action. This is not an environmental activist blog post, but I just want you to take a moment and really try to comprehend the finiteness of this planet. Go ahead...
...you there yet?...
...scary isn't it?
Most people, I believe, go through the day very glazed or uncomprehending of the world and even the universe around them. I fall into this as well nearly everyday. I think it has something to do with how much thinking power it would take to go on with existing if you were having to always fathom, say, the size of the Earth, distances between stars, how unbelievably cool trees are when they're alive and growing, or how many tons of asphalt make up the United States highway system. Things like that. Who thinks about those every single day? I don't, but sometimes it comes up, and it scares the crap out of me. Two days ago, I was looking at soda cans that we have at my work. We store them in the bathroom and they come in the 36 pack containers and what not and there were probably 8 or 9 containers there. Yes, that's 288 to 324 individual cans constructed of aluminum that very likely will not get recycled. Anyway, let me try to give you an analogy to describe what happened next.
It's like when you're on Google Maps and you're zoomed into your home address or what not. You can see the surrounding streets and that's it. It takes up the whole screen. All of sudden, somebody/thing comes along, takes your mouse wheel and scrolls back, zooming the image out, and out, and out until you're staring at the entire planet. "Well," you say "that's cool and all. What's the big deal?" The big deal comes from the fact that you're still cognizant of being that tiny person on that now minuscule street that you can't even see anymore. It's an incredible dichotomy of feeling. And that's as best I can describe it in so few words. That's what happened when I stared at these soda cans. How many businesses must there be in the US alone that have these many cans? Then the world? Then I thought about the manufacturing plants, spitting out all these cans! Where the hell (pardon me) do all these flippin' cans come from? How have we not run out before now? I'll admit, I freaked out a bit, but hopefully you can see why we don't think like this.
I like to think we block these thought processes because they would cause too much stress or, I don't know, positive action. This is not an environmental activist blog post, but I just want you to take a moment and really try to comprehend the finiteness of this planet. Go ahead...
...you there yet?...
...scary isn't it?
May 4, 2008
Dawn
Bright are the stars on this morning fair
The veil between us had finally lifted;
Winter’s cloak had briefly drifted,
Leaving earth to the heavens’ care.
Stars now vanish as dawn comes along
Shielded from sight, a blindness within
Now all dim, allowing their kin
To warm the earth for now, not long.
Glancing down to the forest below
On this world's realm, a sight to see
The sun's new light on every tree
Ethereal mist on ground laid low.
A sea of trees and I an island
As morning fire warms my flesh
Renewed and revived, all is fresh
For my descent from this high land.
'Tween twig and tree, striding down
The only sound from beneath my feet
Is crunching snow, a pure white sheet,
Topping this land's upper crown.
The veil between us had finally lifted;
Winter’s cloak had briefly drifted,
Leaving earth to the heavens’ care.
Stars now vanish as dawn comes along
Shielded from sight, a blindness within
Now all dim, allowing their kin
To warm the earth for now, not long.
Glancing down to the forest below
On this world's realm, a sight to see
The sun's new light on every tree
Ethereal mist on ground laid low.
A sea of trees and I an island
As morning fire warms my flesh
Renewed and revived, all is fresh
For my descent from this high land.
'Tween twig and tree, striding down
The only sound from beneath my feet
Is crunching snow, a pure white sheet,
Topping this land's upper crown.
All around, creatures wake
To glorious dawn and Winters heat.The forest stirs as they all greet
A ball of flame that had to break.
May 3, 2008
Wishful Fiction
Trimboldt knew he might very well be in trouble. Synkrindan had been hammered on for weeks by the New Age Plant council, pestered by the ever increasing population of small children who adored his shenanigans, and hounded by the Tax Collectors branch of the Enforcers Union. It had been inevitable that the balance would be tipped. Hardly anyone knew of Synkrindan's true power if he was unable to maintain that precious balance. Taking an afternoon hike in the woods to calm down, Trimboldt and Synkrindan had come upon an open glade where small shrubs and little woodland creatures were burrowing or furrowing the land, depending on their kind. Trimboldt had accidentally brought up the Enforcers Union when suddenly Synkrindan doubled over as if in pain. His already pale blue skin became more pale and began to shimmer and glow with an ever increasing luminosity. Trimboldt knew that the Good and Self-Control that Synkrindan always employed had finally been toppled by the immensity of circumstance. The balance was falling, and with it would come the potential for incredible destruction. Trimboldt could only hope this was one of the lesser episodes.
Knowing that to stay was to risk injury, possibly mortally depending on the ferocity, Trimboldt fled for the nearest large tree to seek shelter. He could see that the woodland creatures could sense the impending doom to their glade for they had all disappeared. Synkrindan was by this time glowing brightly; a halo of his body spreading outward concentrically was lit with St. Elmo's fire. Unable to contain himself any longer, he reared back screaming to the heavens as a shockwave of unmitigated power and energy coursed outward, decimating all in its path. Trimboldt barely managed to make the tree before the pulse passed him. He felt the tree shudder and pine cones rained down, only to be swept away in the blast. Synkrindan was still screaming, releasing his pent up rage. A good man, he had been cursed with the burden of so many others so that they could lead normal, good lives. The consequence was the inability to manage so much for any given amount of time. It was possible he would go weeks or even months without the need for the release; his containment was impeccable. But every so often, this happened.
Trimboldt heard Synkrindan suddenly grow silent. Turning around from behind the tree, he looked back into the glade and stood there aghast. Synkrindan was kneeling in the middle of a crater at least as tall as one of those small children who had hounded him. No shrub or blade of grass could be seen for several dozen meters. Glancing at the tree that had sheltered him, Trimboldt saw that the bark for several inches had been scorched or blasted off, for there was no sign of fire but for the heat of the tree. Slowly, Trimboldt went up to his friend and, laying his hand upon his shoulder, asked if he was okay? Synkrindan looked up with a look of both relief and dismay and only replied with, I pray every day for this not to happen for the effect it has on others.
*sigh* sometimes i wish i could actually release my pent up angst.
Knowing that to stay was to risk injury, possibly mortally depending on the ferocity, Trimboldt fled for the nearest large tree to seek shelter. He could see that the woodland creatures could sense the impending doom to their glade for they had all disappeared. Synkrindan was by this time glowing brightly; a halo of his body spreading outward concentrically was lit with St. Elmo's fire. Unable to contain himself any longer, he reared back screaming to the heavens as a shockwave of unmitigated power and energy coursed outward, decimating all in its path. Trimboldt barely managed to make the tree before the pulse passed him. He felt the tree shudder and pine cones rained down, only to be swept away in the blast. Synkrindan was still screaming, releasing his pent up rage. A good man, he had been cursed with the burden of so many others so that they could lead normal, good lives. The consequence was the inability to manage so much for any given amount of time. It was possible he would go weeks or even months without the need for the release; his containment was impeccable. But every so often, this happened.
Trimboldt heard Synkrindan suddenly grow silent. Turning around from behind the tree, he looked back into the glade and stood there aghast. Synkrindan was kneeling in the middle of a crater at least as tall as one of those small children who had hounded him. No shrub or blade of grass could be seen for several dozen meters. Glancing at the tree that had sheltered him, Trimboldt saw that the bark for several inches had been scorched or blasted off, for there was no sign of fire but for the heat of the tree. Slowly, Trimboldt went up to his friend and, laying his hand upon his shoulder, asked if he was okay? Synkrindan looked up with a look of both relief and dismay and only replied with, I pray every day for this not to happen for the effect it has on others.
*sigh* sometimes i wish i could actually release my pent up angst.
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