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Rubadubdubber
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Name: Alexander
Country: United States
State: Pennsylvania
Metro: Lebanon
Birthday: 11/14/1985
Gender: Male
Interests: Life.
Expertise: Bitchin', moanin' and punk rockin'
Occupation: Student
Industry: Education/Research
Message: message me
AIM:  l337dubber
Member Since:
9/13/2003
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| God Bless Our Nation...Josh Hamilton used to be addicted to Heroin and Cocaine. He just hit 28 home runs in the first round of the home run derby. As succinctly as possible, this is his story. He gives the credit to the lord.
Speaking of Hamilton's performance, one of ESPN's announcers proclaimed "It's a lousy night to be an atheist."
While I don't claim to be an atheist, preferring instead the only position able to be defended, agnosticism, I feel like I need to "go to bat" here for my friends the atheists.
It is never a lousy evening to recognize mythology for what it is.
Hamilton is a stud, and his comeback and achievements are remarkable. Something motivates him, and many people understand him when he recognizes the lord as this motivation. This is all well and good. This belief has led Hamilton out of a miserable life and serves as inspiration to millions. The same faith does nothing for millions of addicts in this country and around the world.
We hear about the success stories precisely because they are the exception and not the rule.
"Don't try to judge him, his theological ideals. His hopes may be false, but his happiness is real. Don't try to judge him, he's just a man."
Watching the home run derby reminds me that I'm an American. American baseball is something unique, and something which we, as Americans, are exclusively privy to. I have no doubts about it when watching baseball, that I am one of these people, Americans, and I have something in common with them. We are brothers. At the same time, many of these people willingly choose to believe in a specific answer to a general problem. I'm not anything like these people. When hearing confessions to the might of the lord, I have no doubts about it. I have nothing in common. We are strangers.
You won't find me making any conclusions here. Most of those I could make are painfully obvious, unimportant, or both. I'm not trying to insult any intellects. I've merely relayed my experience as an American on this particular evening and my reaction to it. Nothing more and nothing less.
Now take care and go catch a ballgame.
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| The More Things Change, The More They Stay the Same...It seems that all I do is pass out. It's okay though, coming to everytime is visceral. Regaining consciousness is a wild experience which I recommend trying out some time. It could have been worse though, I could have fractured my ankles on the race track and been euthanized right then and there. Joakim Soria is the best reliever in the bigs, and only knowledgeable fantasy owners know this. Yeah, I graduate in a few days. Summa Cum Laude and everything. Don't mistake me for someone special. | | |
| It's a bird, it's a plane, it's a goddamned shame...This provincial outpost harbors 13,000 during the cooler months of the year, and a great many of us are ostensibly concerned with the gearing of the brain. That is, we believe we can, think it right, and are actively trying to solve the world's problems. Yet, I have neglected experiencing even a twelfth of what this outpost has to offer. It's that damn opportunity cost kicking me in the ass once more. ---------- Have you ever had one of those hours where your demeanor and worldview oscillated rapidly between, first, an undying confidence in your ability to remain content forever, and second between a desparate longing for an answer to those great questions plaguing the self? By the first, I don't mean a confidence in your ability to necessarily achieve something according to what those around you value, but rather I mean your ability to be okay with things regardless of any potential outcomes. By the second, I'm referring to that painful descent back into and acceptance of the particular absurdity which surrounds you. Ever had one of those days? Consequently, nothing is more beautiful than a wind-whipped cool spring day at high noon. | | |
| My head is pounding like it's ready to explode...Chewing gum is not a "snack."
Fuck marketing.
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| I've Got These Older Pictures...I really want to write something of substance. Don't confuse that for something necessarily intellectually stimulating. Allow me to employ a food metaphor. I'm not trying to cook vegetable stir-fry here. I just want to buy and eat a Big Mac. I just want to put something here. I've wanted to for a few days. I haven't found the time or the energy. Rather, I haven't retained the time or the energy. I've had a surprisingly fulfilling past several days. But my desire to pontificate will never go away. And so, here I sit, dreading my descent into Dr. Schwarzenbach:
All my friends back east keep asking
'what have you done with your life?'
Just a little too strung out to lie
My ambition keeps getting in the way
When I found my voice, there's nothing left to say
Inhibition keeps me behind this door
My life's a running joke
What am I?
What am I running for...
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