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yixiar
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Name: Dan
Country: United States
State: New York
Metro: Rochester
Birthday: 6/18/1983
Gender: Male
Interests: World exploration, scrambling up steep hills, sea kayaking, filial piety, taking pictures with my shiny digital camera.
Expertise: Treating newly met people like old friends, making clutter, helping other people edit their work, being lactose intolerant, inexpertly drawing and doodling, cooking simple yet rewarding meals with little to no idea what I'm doing, sorting socks.
Occupation: Student
Industry: Education/Research
Message: message me
Member Since:
11/4/2005
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A White House spokesman said President Bush was horrified by the rampage and offered his prayers to the victims and
the people of Virginia. "The president believes that there is a right
for people to bear arms, but that all laws must be followed,"
spokeswoman Dana Perino said.
Dear President Bush,
Just die. Preferably via one of your beloved legal guns, for the sake of irony.
Sincerely,
Me
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| You know why man and Earth are eternally at odds? We value things differently. When we look at the cost of something, or make something, we think of it in terms of man hours. How long it took to get the materials, shape the materials, ship the materials, etc. How long it took to paint that picture, write that piece of music or literature, build that structure. The more man hours used, the more expensive a product. The Earth on the otherhand deals solely with resources. The time it takes to make something means almost nothing to the world. A human lifetime is a blink in the planet's lifetime, less even. The resources belong to it, so how much we use, no matter the man hours, is the true cost. Indeed, doing things faster can often lead to more resources being used. More gas used to rush a package. More waste product during the refinement process.
Essentially, we operate on two entirely different levels. I would hardly go as far as say streams of thought, as the planet has no mind. But it does react nonetheless. Quickly mine out all the coal in a coal field, and the land collapses. Have your herd graze all the grass down at once, and it becomes a wasteland. Cut down a forest for lumber without replanting or allowing time for it to grow back, and the land becomes desolate as well.
Speed helps mankind progress. Speed does not allow the Earth to recover. Either a balance has to be struck, or we have to carefully calculate how much time we are leaving ourselves to escape, because there is no saving us from ourselves at our current rate of resource usage and minmanagement!
Boogity boogity!
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| It is a difficult world that we live in. And one thinks to oneself, if only I lived in simpler times, refering to the past. But the draw of the past is an idealization. Life is so much better and easier now, compared to what it once was. The same goes for the future, with our dreams of machines that can do anything, and opportunities to fulfill your every desire. It will not happen. Reality will remain reality, however harsh and unpleasant it may be. Things would be different in another time, that is for certain, but in so many ways they would remain the same. In some ways it is depressing to think about, that anywhere in time there would be regrets and failures and issues in general. However, it is perhaps heartening to know that the present that we live in is all that there is, and anything we do has its effect. Losing the dreams of the past and the future, we gain an appreciation of the present. You finally stop dreaming of things that cannot be, and instead work with what you have to realize a change.
Or so it goes.
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| I write, and all I find is that eventually I prove my own argument wrong, or incomplete, wholly unsatisfactory. Every idea that comes up seems to be able to be destroyed, or advanced, ruined. Nothing, absolutely nothing, is simple. And complicated writing is utterly infuriating. To come up with a point, and a counterpoint, and a situation where one holds true and the other does not, or both at once, or another possibility entirely, or a questioning of the significance of the matter. Nothing can be followed through to completion. This is the problem I've had on all my long papers. I despise writing something that must remain incomplete. When I touch upon anything, I feel I must bring in everything. And yet, I can never finish such a goal. Each of those papers must be limited, which is indeed their goal. Focus on a little something, explore it in depth to such and such a degree, namely however far one gets until reaching the page requirement, write a conclusion, hand it in. Yet such a thing is filth. I took so little pleasure in some of those papers, precisely because they could never be finished products. Oh, certainly there were other reasons at times, such as me disliking or getting tired of the topic (sometimes related to this issue of feeling a need to see all sides), but those large papers that allowed some expansion on the topic, but never enough, those were the worst. A short paper almost didn't let you get far enough to begin exploring in detail. Those I could do. But think about it. How does it feel to write on a point that you feel is clever and insightful, and halfway through, think of a counterargument that makes it fall apart. You then must either alter your original point to fix that hole, or go along with the counterpoint, or scratch it completely and start anew. It is demoralizing and tiring.
Plot holes infuriate me. Like anyone else, I can get lost in a movie or a book. But when I come across something hackneyed and utterly expectable, or some flaw that should never have occurred, I get tiffed. Depending on the size of the flaw, I may be able to get past it. But frequently enough, I cannot stand to let it pass. With books no one would know what I'm thinking, but if you've ever watched a movie with me, you'll know how I can be. If I can make fun of it, I find I'm able to continue enjoying it. That is, unless it is so absolutely idiotic that even mockery cannot save it. I tend to tear many things to shreds. Maybe this is why I myself have never written a full story. I fear that a project I begin with eagerness and good intentions may become mired down and ruined by my own self criticism. It could result in a finely honed piece of work, but seems more likely to end in fuming frustration and a sadness at having ruined something that I could at least enjoy in my own head.
Still, maybe I should try. I yearn to create something that I can feel is meaningful to at least me, whether it be through sculpture, photography, film or writing. Something tangible, through eyes ears nose mouth touch. With all the confusion and mystery surrounding existence, at least something that I physically create can exist to confirm me of myself.
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| The two things that give me hope in this world are humor and great art. Humor to enliven, and great art to inspire.
Take those away, and humanity may as well surrender to its own self-destruction. Muffling the mind is the goal of those who seek to be in control, and these two things are the chief ways to undermine such stifling authority.
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