Punctuality is the thief of time

Well...who has time to blog? You'd think not having the time to blog means that I have a lot to blog about, such is not true. I think you can describe almost anything using a metaphor of a hurricane. Everything twisting around in an endless spiral, harsh winds, lots of drowning water, and an eye. My spiral is an endless cycle of homework, work and tests. Harsh winds are the realization that despite all that, I still have a lot to do. Drowning water is simply that, I have more to do than I have time for. And the eye is interesting, a calm in the storm during which time I never do anything useful, just waste time and try to calm down and make sense of things.

None of it ever works, so I'll just blow away. See you when I land.

I hate my major

I'm majoring in "Information Technology" (eventually Computer Science) because I have an inexplicably strong love for computers. However, I've discovered I really hate taking major-specific courses for it. The computer industry is always full of dick-measuring. I'm not sure why. Maybe because for most of us, it's the only talent we have, and it isn't exactly a talent you go pick up hotties with. Not to mention, it's not something you can ramble on about passionately at a dinner party. So I hate it. I hate being the best at it, because #1 is a very lonely position to fill. I tell you in angry frustration, and not in arogance, that I havn't met anyone that can come close to the knowledge I've obtained about my passion.

So, screw it. I need a new talent. So I asked myself, what do I love as much as computers? The answer is music. But I don't know how to play anything, and I have zero singing talent. So it's been decided that I will learn to play the piano. I'm a sucker for a piano tune and always have been, so if I spend hours and hours learning how to play a simple tune I'll still be happy in the end. Also, it'll be hours and hours I have not spent learning even more about a topic I already know so much about I can't find anyone that can keep up in a light hearted conversation about.

Compare and contrast essay

Passion versus duty: The showdown

Behind all actions there is a motive. Motive is arguably just as important as the action itself. In an action as simple as eating food the motive is very decisive. Is a person eating for pleasure, or because they will go hungry if they do not? These two motives plainly show the two distinctive categories of motives: passion and duty. If you are eating a food simply because you love it, you're motive is passionate. On the other hand, if you're only eating strictly because you're hungry you have a duty driven motive. However, food is not a choice. Each of us have to eat if we are to survive. There are many choices we could approach with either passion or duty that could very well change who we are as people. To understand the differences between your decisions, it's important to understand the differences between passion and duty.

One of the most obvious differences is objective. Passion could be described as following ones heart, whereas duty has a specific goal orientation. You may chose to go to class one day simply because you like it, but you may also go just for the grade. Both scenarios have the same decision and roughly the same outcome: you go to class. It may seem like this means the decision was made and the impact is done, but how it was made has just as much impact on the situation. If someone chose to go to class because he loved it, he'd pay attention and therefor absorb more of the material. The same could be said for making the grade, but once it's no longer useful for that goal one would probably forget the material. Even though the objective is met, the outcome is different in the end. Passion and duty are usually represented by two very different attitude. If a person is doing something solely because he or she wants to, the attitude used to approach the activity is usually more upbeat or bubbly. Duty can bring forth a wide range of attitudes. Attitudes can range from bland boredom to oppressive zeal. Attitudes that come with duty aren't all bad, however. Dutiful motives can be extremely productive in a business or service environment. On the same token, passionate motives are not always good. These motives can be unproductive and often chaotic and unguided. Passionate motives can often be placed in a religious or volunteer sort of setting. These facts bring us to another important contrast between passion and duty: their settings. Each motive has an extremely distinctive place of use. In fact, it can often be dangerous if their places are mixed. Dutiful religious leaders taking it upon themselves to commit genocide, for example.

Although the two motives have extremely clear differences, their singularities aren't always as clearly defined. As I've mentioned previously, both duty and passion are motives. This means that a sense of passion or duty can start an event. The event can differ according to the motive, and it can either be for evil or good. Behind any major world event, you will probably find passion or duty to be the catalyst. Aside from the start, both have a similar ending. Passion and duty can both end in personal or strategic gain. In fact, both tend to lead to very effective methods of generating gain. They each have very strong emotions derived from them. It is rare that someone with a sense of passion or duty is emotionally dull. Passion and duty can be expressed as a driving force behind a persons dreams. Something that holds such an epic place in a person's life rarely goes without emotion.

No matter what you're going through in life, the world continues to turn. Ever changing events make it important to have a motive in your life. When making a decision or starting something big, it may be important to ask what the driving force is. Is it duty with it's objective orientation and zeal, yet bland appearance? Could it be passion with it's personal and heartfelt attitude but sometimes unproductive in nature? Such a question could tell a lot about the outcome of the decision before it's even made.

Thrill seeking, I guess

So I went to six flags over the weekend. I'd never been to an amusement park before and it was quite an experience. I embraced the thought of 200 foot drops very quickly and wasted no time to get on the tallest ride I could find. It was very exciting and I had a lot of fun, moving from one ride to the next to see how long I could keep my lunch (I never lost it, I win!) At the end of the day I let them attach a bungee chord to my person, hoist me up into the air and then let me fall ten stories just to swing back up and fall again a few time. That was an experience I won't be forgetting any time soon.

I wish I could take the same approach to all aspects of my life. I'm always really afraid of what tomorrow will bring, mostly because I know full well what yesterday dragged in. I think the fear and apprehension affects my decisions in somewhat negative ways. If only life really was a roller coaster.

Reflection of my examples

Was the essay hard? I think so, because it was a slightly new perspective. I've always built essays and then packed as much example in them as I could. I love example. It's a wonderful filler that always drives the point home, and they're 'free'. What I mean by this, is that real world examples already happened. They're completely factual and are in no need of editing, you can just write it how it happened. I suppose that would be my advice to the next writers of these essays. Don't stress about the example, the example writes itself! Stress more about how the example relates to your essay and your point. The hardest part was manipulating the example to fit that in the best way possible. To be honest, I'm still not sure I tweaked it enough in the end. I think after reading my example people would get the idea that I feel mental hospitals are "bad" (I wrote on mental hospitals, my main example was an anecdote in the intro) but they wouldn't really get a sense of how. I really hope that I built that up with the remainder of my essay, but I suppose only grades shall tell.

My life and Lizstomania

So I've had this random spark of interest over the passed few days that started with a band. I recently picked up an album by Pheonix that featured the song "Lizstomania". Well a friend and I seriously dug the song but after a while we wondered "What IS Lizstomania?" Well if we take out the 'omania' part we are left with Liszt. After a little research I found that Liszt refered to a french gentlemen named Franz Liszt (makes sense, because Pheonix is a french band). Franz Liszt was known for two things. He was one of the most renound piano players of all time, and he was a very extensive fonicator.

Fast foward a few years and we have a play written about him, called "Lisztomania". The plot summary is as follows:

hedonistic life of groupies, sex and music, as well as his rivalry between his true love and one of his mistresses
unleashing the Viking God, Thor, and his troupe of robot Nazis. The only way to save the world is through Liszt and all of his mistresses in a rocket ship to destroy the resurrected Wagner who has now become the Nazi Antichrist.

Pretty cool, right? So, after hours of giggling about this outragous plot I actually started to compare my life to this play. Seriously, if a story is ever told about me it had better be akin to the story of Lizstomania. I mean, I'm not really that into fornicating with a ton of women but throwing in a viking god and robot Nazis would be cool (Why the hell were the viking gods employing Nazis of all things? I mean seriously they can throw thunder at peoples faces what in the world do they need blitzkrieg combat for?)

So all I'm trying to say is, I hope I can be interesting and exciting enough to be worthy of an epic tale. Even if not everyone in life likes me right now, I hope I can always leave a positive impact on their lives before I fade out of it.

(DISCLAIMER: I do not condone Nazis or Nazi behavior in any way, they were ass holes in every sense of the phrase. I would totally just go with Samuri robots.)

example essay

I hate it. I'm rewriting it now.

The children grew immediately quiet upon the woman's entrance. They sat up strait while they nervously prepared to receive what she had to say. The woman had a consistent broad smile set neatly upon her face. The smile didn't change with any event; it just remained there like it was painted on the portrait of her face. Her business suite was perfectly smoothed and pressed. The sight of her was a far cry from that of the children. Each of the four was dressed in rags. They're shoulders were slouched as their legs swung lazily under the desk. Each had a dark expression. Their faces shown sadness or perhaps just fatigue. The woman drew in her breath and began with a single statement: "You're all worthless, broken, degenerates of society." There was no question what the faces of each child shown after those words. Each head hung low with the unmistakable expression of shame. However, the woman brought a small iota of hope with her next words: "But here, we will fix you." What exactly does it mean to be fixed? The children were about to find out.

From then on the day of each child was executed in the same way. In the morning, blood was drawn. After a brief recovery time, each child lined up to receive his or her respective ration of pills. When one of them reached the front of the line, they were scanned. It was not unlike the way a farmer scanned his cattle to identify them. After the scan, each child was identified and matched with veritable doses of anti-depressants. After being drugged, the children moved on to school. It was an uneventful process of working through meaningless packets. None of them received any form of teaching or console from a teacher, just more packets and assignments. From there to occupational therapy. I'm not sure anyone knows what the point of this process is. There was one card exercise to train the children not to take unnecessary risks. Another exercise was on choosing friends carefully. How you could really express the importance of either through a simple deck of cards, is beyond me. From occupational they went to recreational therapy. This was every child's favorite time of the day. The time was spent painting small statues and crafting small items out of leather. Even though the activities helped keep their minds off things, the children couldn't help but be reminded why they weren’t allowed to use sharp objects. After recreational therapy, the fun stopped completely.

The children then went to a vastly depressing session of group therapy. Not sharing wasn't an option. In some ways the children became forced best friends, as they were forced to tell the others all of the intiment details of their lives. Out of the seven days each resided in the hospital, there was not one session of group therapy that did not result in tears. The children were also forced to partake in solo therapy sessions. The topic throughout seemed to remain the same: what they were doing wrong.

A children’s behavioral center seems like a good idea on paper. A place to send children when they just refuse to do what they’re supposed to.