Friday, April 24, 2009

I like to ride my bicycle

Over a 2 hour period last weekend, I had eaten more than most eat in a few days. I had 3 granola bars, 2 full plates of spaghetti, a burrito the size of my face, a bowl of chips and salsa, beans and rice, a sleeve of ritz crackers topped with peanut butter, a glass of milk(2%!), a bottle of Gatorade, and a large milkshake. This is not an exaggeration. This is a meal that I had after an 80 mile bike ride. This is just one reason I enjoy biking.

This is one perk of being on a cycling team. I don’t regret picking up biking when I am able to enjoy a 4,000 calorie meal. My desire to bike is not based on my stomach though. Cycling comes with its ups and downs.

Riding 250 miles in one week gives you a sense of accomplishment that is hard to come across elsewhere. Spending hours every day outside, in the sun, in the woods, and on the hills makes your days much more enjoyable.

Competitive cycling is very good for your health. I know that my heart and lungs are healthy when my heart rate is 40 beats per minute (the average is 70 beats per minute). My legs are chiseled from miles of biking. Not to mention, it is very difficult to gain weight when you burn thousands of calories each day.

For me, the most enjoyable part of cycling is race weekends. This is a chance to test my hard work, fitness, pain tolerance, and strategy against fellow collegiate cyclists. This is where you cash in hours of pedaling. It makes all of the sacrifice worthwhile.

I’m far from in love with cycling though. It has its less enjoyable times. Last weekend I drove to Wisconsin for a 30 mile race. Not three miles in, I got a flat tire. I changed it and proceeded to race by myself hopelessly trying to catch the pack. With three miles left in the race, I got another flat tire. I almost literally crawled across the finish line for participant…last place. You are bound to have your off days.

No one likes spending money. This is especially true for me. And biking is very expensive. To start, a bike nice enough to be raced costs at least one thousand dollars. Race entries are anywhere from 10-40 dollars per race. Tires are replaced every few months, which costs about 50 dollars a pop. Cycling clothes cost an arm and a leg. When you pay, you realize you bought clothes for you arms and legs that you no longer have. And that’s a bummer.

And time is money. If this is the case then all cyclists must be poor from all of the time they spend riding. You must do a lot of riding to race competitively.

Bike racing, by nature, is inherently dangerous…” this is a line from a release form required in order to race. And it could not be stated more clearly. In the few months that I have been cycling, I have seen my share of accidents. I have gotten in a 10 bike pile-up requiring me to take a week off to recover from my injuries. I have even been hit by a car. I was traveling 25 mph one second and in a strangers windshield the next. And I have seen countless crashes at races.

But I keep on biking. Maybe because it is just something to do. It might be the friends that I make from biking. I might simply enjoy working out. Or maybe I just legitimately like biking. Or maybe I’m good at it. Either way, this blog entry is not at all controversial.

Monday, April 20, 2009

Please Don't Misinterpret This Also

I did not wake up last Thursday morning planning on pissing people off. But
things don’t always go according to plan.

I was going to be away from a computer all Friday, and I was busy Thursday
afternoon. And I had only completed one of my two required blog entries for my English class. I had to write my second one… and fast! Too add to my stress, I had no topics left in my very limited stash of topics. To find a topic, I started
thinking of things that left any possible impression in my mind… I didn’t need
to have strong feelings about anything to write about it, just enough info to rant about for a little while. I saw a booth at campus that was trading novels for peoples' religious texts with a sign that said, “fiction for fiction.”

Being a religious person, this caught my attention a little. Yes, I was a
little offended. A book that I base my morals and standards on was being
accused to be fiction. I didn’t get terribly offended because I didn’t care
enough. And If I had cared enough, I might have stopped by and heard what they
were about.

Anyway, this brief interaction did not make me too upset, however, it
inadvertently gave me a topic to write about. So I sat down at my computer and
cranked out 500 words bashing “fiction for fiction.” Not bashing anyone in
particular, just my opinion. But a stretched out, over exaggerated, unnecessarily
rude, rant. Like most of my blogs. I wanted to say I was a little offended by accusing my religion to be fiction. However add a whole lot more words and exaggerations, and the result is a lot more offensive.

I admit that I wrote it in a hurry and it was far from one of my better blogs. There were a quite a few holes in my logic to say the least.

As this blog is for my English class, I wrote it with the audience being by
classmates and teacher. I never thought that the person who set up that booth
would read it, just my class. However, the organizer for the event that I had
bashed had found the blog. I don’t know how. But I think that it must have
been not even half an hour before she had an entry on her blog ridiculing me
and my blog that I feel so strongly about. She told me to read it. I didn’t.
It was really long. I could tell that the blog was bashing people that bashed
her (bashing them in the same manner that they bash her). I also didn’t read
it because it was about something I didn’t even care about in the first place.
But when I got to class after the events had settled, a classmate told me that
the blog was about me. She had written 60 billion words about me! I was not serious about my opinion. I’m one of the most laid back people, and she was so upset about something I half-heartedly said.

Sorry If I have perpetuated everything, but I'm just writing an over exaggerated, unnecessarily rude, rant.

I pissed off a lot of cyber peeps.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Fiction For Fiction

Not everyone is smart, but everyone has a strong stance on about every topic. Whether it’s evolution, global warming, or religion; you always have a stance on these topics. Listening to people talk, I hear people voicing their opinion on evolution; accusing it to be either true or false based on what little knowledge they have about it. Everyday civilians comment on how global warming is a conspiracy, despite professionals swearing to it. The worst of these is religion.

Religion is one thing that none of us seem to agree on, but we still have to make our voice heard. Even if you don’t believe anything, that must also be vocalized. I saw a quintessential example of this at campus yesterday. Some opinionated enthusiasts were sitting at a booth outside of the “class of ‘50” with a sign that read, “Fiction for Fiction; trade your religious texts for fictional novels.” That was probably the most useless and offensive table set up that I’ve ever seen.

What could these people’s point possibly be? Are they saying religion is fiction? I would have to dumber than them not to realize that that was their point. I’m not going to come down on them for voicing their opinion, except that the entire basis of their opinion is to oppose another. This “fiction for fiction” trade is the opposition to organized religion like, for example, pro-life opposes pro- choice. The opposing parties involved in that example believe different things, which happen to be the opposite. One party didn’t form due to an opinion they held and that being the sole cause of the other party’s formation.

What is this “fiction for fiction” table’s goal? Are they trying to spread the word that religion is fake? What would people’s reaction be if equally as zealous people went exclaiming their religion to the campus? These people are now on the same arrogance level as the bible thumpers that they oppose.

I don’t know if atheists have a holy book, but if they do, I’d like to bring it to that table. And see what fiction novel they give me in return for my fiction book.

I wonder why they didn’t just set up a table that said, “don’t talk to me, you won’t like me.” It would have gotten their point across better.

However, I wasn’t terribly offended. If some brainless college kids think that religion is a hoax, then I’m not at all surprised. College students are probably the least religious group of individuals in our nation. Think about it in this sense; these kids are enjoying their newfound freedom that comes along with leaving home and becoming an adult. They can do whatever they want, so why would they want some greater power in charge of them?

This is just how I perceive all of this in order to not get too upset about people claiming my religion is “fiction.”

Monday, April 13, 2009

I Hate It When People Complain!

You are reading this article becaue the title is a complaint. I think that we all appear so much more negative than we actually are. I’ve noticed that the majority of our conversations are composed of complaints.

Take a moment to reflect on your typical conversations with friends. Right now it is 10 am. I’ve had about four or five conversations that I can think of so far today. Three of which were started with negative statements. My roommate woke up and said, “It is way too early!” I walked into class, sat down, turned to my friend and sparked conversation with, “The weather is really crappy.” While eating breakfast with a friend, he started complaining about how bland his cereal was and how weak his feeble skim milk was. Life must be brutal!

If I were to take a guess, I would say that 75% of our conversations are negative. That is because so many people feel awkward by silence and need something to say. Negative conversation starters are more conducive to maintaining conversation. If there is a silence before class, someone is more likely to say, “that test was pretty tough!(regardless if the test was hard or not)” than “I think I did well on that test.” The first example brings up controversy-which leads to conversation. Someone might respond to the latter with something like, “yes, it sure was easy.” End of conversation. Or possibly, by saying that you did well on the test, you seem cocky, so you complain about it instead. This makes you feel and appear humble. It also starts conversation. Someone else might complain about how difficult the test was, and then you have a whole conversation full of meaningless and false statements. I guess that’s what conversations are mainly comprised of.

People feel uncomfortable with silence, so they consciously or unconsciously say something that sparks conversation. And a negative statement is much more likely to do so than something positive. I don’t believe that this is a problem, just something I noticed. People seem to say very negative things, but don’t seem very negative.

What would happen if we were all honest? I don’t know; I can’t imagine such a world.

Then, what would happen if we all stretched the truth? We would have the world that we live in.

What if we just complained all of the time? We would still have the world that we live in.

Haven’t you noticed that I’ve spent a lot this blog complaining about how often people complain? Kind of Ironic. But someone has to do it!

So clean up your act world! Start conversations with positive statements. Say things like, “nice outifit today,” or “I really enjoy this class.” This is twofold; when someone says something positive. Have a conversation with them. Give them positive reinforcement for their rare, nice comment. Even if the world is not actually positive, it would not appear quite so negative.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Mindless Article Complaining About Another Mindless Article

“Gum placed under table sticks to student’s pants.” This was a headline in the Exponent the other day. I was talking to a friend about how uninformative the Exponent was. We started thumbing through the pages and pointing out headlines of stories that we wouldn’t ever want to read, just complaining about the newspaper. It was the perfect time to run across that article.

To their credit, the article was in the opinion section, where stupid articles should be. The article was Alexandra Holliday writing in, she was complaining that someone placed gum under a desk. She then had the (sarcastic) joy of pealing it off with a piece of paper. I guess it must have really upset her. In her rage, she immediately wrote a letter to the Exponent- the new form of self expression.

The letter she wrote to the Exponent was just sarcastically thanking whoever placed the gum under her desk. She then continued to bash that young person’s maturity. The letter was for one person. Good thing it was published in the newspaper for the whole campus to read (That was a taste of the sarcasim that I learned from Alexandra Holliday's article).

Here is some more sarcasm that Holliday taught me:
Her article was well-written. It had a solid beginning, middle, and end. It flowed very well. She got her point across. The sarcasm was funny and appropriate.

Another thing that bothered me about this article was the Exponent is not a place for self expression, or a place to let your anger out. It should be a place to bring light to the news. That article that Holliday wrote has its place… maybe in a blog like this one, or a diary; not the newspaper. There is an ongoing argument in the opinion section about evolution- an issue with actual opinions. I would like to write back, causing this also to be an ongoing opinion section argument, and tell her that this is no place for an article like that. But doing so would contradict what I’m trying to tell her. Now that would just be hypocritical of me.

(Just a side note: I am in a lab writing this and there is a girl over to my left who keeps trying to read over my shoulder. My message to her: Can you read this? This part is to you! Maybe you are Alexandra Holliday, or are friends with her, and are offended by this paper that I’m writing. Either way, mind your own business.)

Now back to the matter at hand; my rage. I’m not entirely mad at Holliday for writing in with such an unamusing article. I am upset at how the Exponent, a “news”paper, would let this letter in the opinion section when it isn’t really even an opinion. There is a reason the Exponent does not have a “complaint” section.

My rage is not at all justified. In fact, I’m not terribly upset. I just rant sometimes, and it often gets out of hand and extremely boring. I appreciate you sticking it out to the end of this entry.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Choose-Your-Own-Adventure... The Most Adventurous Blog On Blogger

Don’t be intimidated by the length of this blog… By design, you don’t have to read all of it. It’s a “choose your own adventure;” in blog form. I was going to write about the dismal state of our economy, but if you didn’t know that our economy was in the crapper, then you have been living in a shell for the past life time. If you have never read a “choose your own adventure,” It’s easy to play. You have two options. Pick one, and follow the directions. Now do you feel adventurous?

Start here:
1.) It’s a gloomy weekday afternoon. The rain has just recently subsided. You step outside your room and see a magnificently gay rainbow. You…
Feel adventurous and decide to follow it in hopes of a pot of gold at the end. (proceed to step 4)
Go back inside because you are a vampire. (Proceed to step 7)

2.) You wake up and realize that it was all just a dream. Duh! Dragons don’t exist! But I had you going right?!?!?!

3.) You walk into the Chinese restaurant and have an absolutely satisfying buffet. You…
Grab a fortune cookie to top off the meal. (Proceed to step 9)
Leave and continue on towards the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. (Proceed to step 4)

4.) It seems as if you never reach the rainbow. Nearing the end of a tiring journey, you see what appears to be a pot of gold a quarter of a mile ahead of you and a Chinese restaurant just to your left. You decide to…
Venture on to the pot of gold. (Proceed to step 12)
Go to the Chinese restaurant. (Proceed to step 3)

5.)Lucky numbers are 2, 5, 19, 21, and 13. You decide to…
Try your luck with the lottery with your lucky numbers. (proceed to step 11)
Head back to the dorm and sleep off the enormous buffet of fried rice and general tso’s chicken you just enjoyed. (proceed to step 10)

6.) Your friend notices a magnificently gay rainbow and suggests that you both follow it. You…
Decide that it is futile to attempt to chase fate any longer and follow the rainbow. (proceed to step 4)
Ditch your friend at try your luck at the lottery. (proceed to step 11)

7.) Someone had placed garlic in your room. People ridicule you endlessly for being a vampire. You can’t return to your room so you go to…
A Chinese restaurant (proceed to step 3)
A friend’s room to avoid the garlic and have someone to hang out with. (proceed to step 6)

8.) That it terribly sad. That person was perfect for you. You live alone. With only your pet cats to keep you company.

9. ) The fortune cookie says…
“you are an inspiration to many” (proceed to step 5)
“the only thing you fear is your own inability to climb the mountain.” (proceed to step 6)

10.) You have an enjoyable nap. This is where your journey ends. Hope you had fun. Hope this was better than what you could have been doing in reality.

11.) You won the lottery big time! Ten Billion dollars! You…
Invest it in helping the homeless (proceed to step 14)
You hoard it. (proceed to step 15)

12.) You have finally found the pot of gold! Congratulations! Only it isn’t gold. It’s a magic Jeanie. You have one wish. You wish for….
Ten billion dollars. (proceed to step 15)
Love (proceed to step 13)

13.) You meet the woman/man or your dreams. You…
Fall asleep in their arms (proceed to step 10)
There is a tangible distance between you. It eats at you. You can’t take it any longer. Maybe there is someone else out there for you… (proceed to step 17)

14.) Your sojourn volunteering at the homeless shelter is abruptly interrupted by a dragon. You…
Pick up a sword that a hobo bought on the black market and accept the dragon as a worthy opponent (proceed to step 18)
Run for your life and return to your room. (proceed to step 1)

15.) You have 10 billion dollars. Good for you, but money can’t buy you love. This is the end of your journey. Hope you enjoyed the footsteps of fate.

16.) I forgot step 16… Opps!

17.) You find end it off with them. As you leave them, you find someone better… someone perfect for you. You…
Take a chance on them (proceed to step 13)
Are too distraught after a brutal breakup and can’t but your heart on the line. (proceed to step 8)

18. The dragon is a fierce competitor. The battle abides throughout the day. You tire and but take on last swing at the dragon. It was more than he could take. The dragon falls at your feet. In your state of immesureable exhaustion, you…
Fall asleep. (proceed to step 2)
Brew a strong cup of coffee and venture on to see what is at the end of the rainbow. (proceed to step 4)

Thursday, April 2, 2009

I Haven't Never Not Learned Nothing About Nothing From Nobody, Never.

“You learn something new every day.” I’ve heard this too many times, and every time I hear it I get upset. It’s so obvious. Of course you learn something everyday.

Yesterday, I only had one class (COMM 114, we just listened to speeches). I thought that this would be a good chance to attempt to disprove this over-used phrase. I started my day by going to class and listened to speeches, but not paying too much attention- I don’t want to accidently learn something. I came home after class equally as brain dead as when I left to class. So far so good.

I spent the rest of the day doing nothing. I am now regretting how much homework I have to do today. Regardless, I managed to go the rest of the day without thinking about a thing. Using advanced deductive reasoning, you can conclude that I didn’t learn anything since I didn’t think about anything.

I went to bed reflecting upon the day. What a good day; I did nothing! Learned nothing! But a distressful realization reached me in my meditative state:

“I learned that you don’t learn something everyday.” At first it was just a thought, then I realized that I had learned something afterall.

Was my day a waste? I mean, I spent all day trying to prove that you can learn nothing. There was a lot I could have done that required learning; homework, movies, reading, etc.. I guess it wasn’t a waste because I learned something. I learned that you do learn something everyday.

In an attempt to justify myself wasting the day away, I meditated on the saying in question:

“You learn something new each day. Yesterday I learned that this isn’t true”

This is a bold statement. This says that I learned something (that that phrase isn’t true). “You learn something each day.” You learn something. Not me. This statement might still be true. It just depends on who you’re talking to. If you say this statement to someone in a coma, you’re lying. If you say this to a doctor, you’re telling the truth. At least I hope so.

There are so many meaningless sayings out there.

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single
step. – Confucius

That’s very specific… why not say “ a really long journey” instead of “A journey of a thousand miles?” What do all of the journeys of differing lengths start with. And if I were to travel a thousand miles by foot, It would not be the first step that I would worry about. I would be more concerned about the billion of steps that followed.

“Early bird gets the worm.”

First off, I'm not a bird... not applicable to me! And, that’s what the early bird gets, what about the late risers? They saying implies that if you are the opposite of the early bird, you get the opposite of a worm to eat. Like a steak dinner? Pizza? Ice cream? All of which are better than a worm. Moral: “Early to bed early to rise, makes a man eat worms.”

I feel like this is all I have to learn from inspirational proverbs today. I wonder what I will learn tomorrow. Surely I learn something…just like everyday.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

I Don't Want To Vote, I Just Want To Go To Class

Two weeks ago, I was very content with my life. I could walk wherever I wanted without being bombarded with student body presidential hopefuls pleading for your vote. There is no way to get from one side of campus to the other without having your quietude disrupted by being handed a flier or a reminder that voting starts soon. I have tried every method to avoid them and determined the only methods to avoid these unwelcome intruders.

I thought that if I was preoccupied, listening to my ipod, then those handing out fliers might avoid me. I saw a group of people about 100 feet ahead of me wearing matching t-shirts and handing out neon green papers. My first attempt to avoid them involved turning up the volume on my ipod and I started jamming out, oblivious to the auditory world. I cautiously approached them, pretending to be entranced by my ipod to avoid them. Then I saw her… a beautiful blonde…her hair blowing in the wind… she had gorgeous blue eyes… and then we made I contact. She started making her way over to me. She said something to me and handed me a piece of paper. I couldn’t believe it, I had just gotten this babe’s number! Now I didn’t hear what she said because my ipod was turned up so loud, but it didn’t matter, I had her number! I looked down at the paper she had handed me and it read, “Vote ticket #1 Hatfield Corrigan.” I took a second look at her and she was wearing a matching campaign t-shirt. She had given me a flyer, not her number. What a let down! And I also learned that attempt #1 to avoid these trespassers upon my privacy had failed. Listening to your ipod is not a way to avoid them. I will try something different next time.

The next day, a crowd of people, obviously campaigning for student government, loomed off in the distance. I looked at a bike rack to my left and grabbed the one bike that was not on a lock. I cruised on toward them, prepared to fight my way through the masses. I made it past the first battalion of flyer-hand-out-ers without a problem. I guess my lightning fast speed on my newly acquired bike was too much for them to handle. I ended up making it through all of them and thought that I had found a way to avoid them. When I got to class, neon green flyers were overflowing from my backpack and out my pockets… somehow they had found a way.

All in all, I ended up trying multiple different ways to avoid the pesky campaigners. I told them things like, “Don’t you know me, I’m running against you,” or “I don’t go to Purdue.” I tried acting completely oblivious while having a conversation with them. I kept asking what position they were running for, what there name was again, where they went to school; anything to annoy them enough to leave me alone. No matter what I did, I ended up with a flyer.

I just want everyone to know that I am not going to vote in the election. I guess I am not practicing my duty as a college student. I just don’t see how the election or student government is that important, considering I hadn’t even heard of student government until last week. I figure they don’t do too much.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Excuse me, could you possible try to chew your food with your mouth a little less open, please?

I just had a lovely conversation with my roommate. I was sitting at my desk, reading my sociology book in studious solitude. He walks in and announces his presence by opening up a bag of cheez-its and engulfing them as loudly as possible. I’ve never been mad at someone for eating food before. This 19 year-old was chewing with his mouth open like a little kid. But I guess I can’t be too mad at him for that because I used to chew with my mouth open… When I was 7.

I thought I could put up with it. It wouldn’t last too long. I mean, no one eats cheez-its for an extended period of time. However, I guess cheez-its was his lunch because he was eating them endlessly.

I was not planning on saying anything to him; no one wants to tell someone as old as a college freshman how to eat their food. However, in my desperation, I had to speak up-

“Hey man, do you think you could close your mouth when you eat?” I asked in a polite, yet business-like tone.

He aggresively responded, “HECK NO!” What could have provoked that response? Maybe he misheard my request; I do mumble and slur my words a lot. “Do you think you could close your mouth when you eat?” could easily be misinterpreted as, “Do you think you could pose as a moth with two feet?” That would seem like an unusual request, but surely anyone would respond with “HECK NO!”

I doubted that he misheard me because I was certain I had spoken clearly, therefore, my frustration with him was justified. My retort to his foul mouth was the most mature thing that any logical person could do- turn my music up to full volume and listen to his least favorite band. That would show him not to disrespect me, and it might drown out the noise of chewing.

My tactics were ineffective. As I cranked up the volume on my speakers, he cranked up the volume on his cheez-its. He searched the box to find a handful of the crunchiest cheese-its of all. He took a swig of water, to make sure that chewing them would make a resounding, especially grotesque, noise loud enough to overpower my speakers.

I felt that if I had said anything, It would not register with him. After responding unhelpful and rude to my simple, polite, request, I learned that he is not capable of listening to others. I could have taken a more mature approach than listening to really loud music, but that would require talking to him. And I don’t think that it would be practical to talk to him; he has already shown defiance toward mature discussions.

Be leery not to offend me. I will retaliate by writing a blog about you that you will never read.

Some people say that bad roommates at least give you good stories. This brings me to the moral of this story. I would rather have good roommates than good stories.

Monday, March 23, 2009


It’s finally March which can mean only one thing. I just don’t know what yet. I have been searching, seeking the cause of this madness. "March Madness." Why March? Why are we so mad? And what provoked such madness? As I always do when in a stupor (not drunken, just confused), I searched the web.

I bet we are mad because of something that happened in the past. It’s only logical. I’ve never been mad about something from the future.

Maybe March Madness stems from the madness associated with the Battle of the Alamo which took place in March of 1836. Back in 1836, Texan soldiers tried to drive out Mexican forces. The Texans held off 2 surges of Mexican troops, but the third surge was too much. All but two Texans died. This might cause the “madness” associated with March. Everyone needs to dress up as Texan revolutionist, sling their muskets over their shoulder, and shout “Remember the Alamo!”

I haven’t seen any Davey Crocketts roaming campus, so I seriously doubt this is why everyone is so mad.

On March 5, 1983, the idolized Animal House star, John Belushi, died. College students throughout the nation were mad that their symbol of drinking and partying had died. Perhaps, in honor of the late John Belushi, everyone gets drunk in March. They get crazy drunk, mad drunk….madness… March Madness!

College students are not the only people who celebrate March Madness, therefore I doubt this is it.

March 15, 44 B.C.. The ides of March. Julius Ceasar was assassinated. And he sure was mad. His final words were condemning his best mate brutus for the literal backstab…”E tu, Bruti!” He sure was mad. He was furious. It was March. That is a prime example of March Madness.

Again I doubt that this is the true madness. No one alive now ever knew Ceasar. And wouldn’t we get over it. Over time, and especially in our nation that so dearly admires democracy, wouldn’t we realize the dangers of having a leader too powerful?

I nearly abandoned my search as fruitless. It seemed as if I may never find the true madness in March. I turned on some depressing music and sat in my room, absolutely distraught, thinking that I would always be left out of the loop. I truly thought that this year I would find the truth. I would be just as educated about March as everyone else seemed to be.

In my darkest hour I heard sounds of the fruit of my labor. It came in the form of a distant argument across the hall. I thought, “Well, these fellows sure sound MAD.” I went to check it out. They were mad at eachother! Arguing about which basketball team was superior. Connecticut had size, but Purdue had talent. While listening to the two people shout at the top of their lungs, I came to the realization that this is what March Madness is all about. It’s a chance to become furious at people, who in any other month would be considered friends, over issues as distant to them as their respect for eachothers’ opinion. Nearly everyone is mad in March. There are 65 teams in the tournament, and one winner. Therefore, there are fans from 64 teams that are mad about the outcome; all but the winner. My soul journey has ended. At long last I had found the truth behind the madness!

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Spring Break: Is It Too Good To Be True?

Three more days until spring break! I think that we are all in agreement that we need a week to relax and escape from the stresses of school. Don’t let loose yet; you can party all you want over spring break. We just need to buckle down for a few more days, followed by a week of relaxation and freedom. Proceeding this is simply grinding out six to seven weeks of quality learning.

My sociology 220 class yesterday was discussing the social problems that go along with spring break. When my teacher mentioned the topic, I wondered where the problem could possibly be. I tried to keep an open mind and find the social problem of spring break. Only then did I find the issue that made it a social problem. It’s not spring yet! It’s 25 degrees today… just 3 days before spring break. There are schools on spring break right now. But it’s still winter.

My professor continued the lecture in a different direction than my imagination. He mentioned the increase of rapes, spread of STD’s, and violent crimes during spring break. I thought that this was obvious, seeing as it is a 7 day party for college students. I was questioning when the learning would take place in this class session.

Then he talked about sociologists’ different views on spring break. One view was why we have spring break in the first place. The schools grant us spring break in hopes to reduce partying and improve grades. There is less partying right before spring break because we all know that all we have to do is work hard up until spring break. Spring break comes around, and we leave campus and go to Florida, Mexico, or anywhere but school. Put differently, we get out of the school’s jurisdiction and party like we’re actually celebrating something. Then we come back to school, eager to learn. On spring break, we aren’t the school’s problem.

It makes sense. The school gives us a break for us to get away and bring our problems, alcohol, and loud music elsewhere. Are we really the ones who get a break or is it the school?

I bet that as soon as we all caravan off to our spring break destinations, the university staff creep out of their offices. They get all dressed up. They dye their gray hair. They pick up their dates. They put in their beach boys cd, and turn up the stereos in their cars and cruise the streets of Purdue without all of these rascal college students. Unbeknownst to us, while we think that we’re having the time of our lives on spring break, the administrators and university staff are probably having more fun than we are.

This had me wondering one more thing. Why do college students party so much? I mean, traditionally, parties are designed for celebration; birthday parties, graduation parties, bar mitzvahs. But seriously, what happens every week that we need to party every weekend; one, two, or even 3 or 4 times. You must have a lot to celebrate. Either that, or your minor accomplishments are exaggerated. “I think I might get an A in this class… lets party tonight!” “I ran all of the way to campus and was not out of breath… let’s party this weekend.” Or, “Hey, we just made it through one difficult week; full of partying and getting wasted… we should let loose and party to celebrate this accomplishment!”

Most of that wasn’t mentioned in my sociology class. However, It seemed distantly relative.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Nice Outfit!

Why do people misinterpret the function of clothes? The function is warmth and to cover up unmentionables. The purpose of clothing has been muddled by pop culture. Merely a little more afoul guidance from the media!

People take clothing as a way to express their “personality.” Personality is who you are beneath the surface. It’s not how you look, or how you dress. So wearing clothes that match your personality is simply saying, “These clothes are my personality. So go ahead and judge me without getting to know me.”

The way you dress is really to appear like someone you aren’t. You generally never dress based on who you are. We’ve all heard the phrase, “dress to impress.” I think that can be restated as, “dress like someone more impressive than you.” People tell me to dress to impress, and I get offended. I thought that I was impressive to begin with.

I started thinking this the other day when I was at walmart with a friend looking for a jacket. I found a really nice, red, plaid jacket, with a gray hood on it. I pointed out to my friend that I was contemplating buying it. He said, “That’s a ‘white trash’ jacket.” And I thought, maybe I could pull off being white trash. Why not? I’m already white, and that’s a start. That’s how I started thinking of how we only dress to be who we aren’t.

People dress for who they want to be. If I wanted to be a rock star, I might wear tight leather pants. Luckily, I don’t want to be a rock star. If I wanted to be a thug, I would wear really baggy clothes and Air Jordans. If I wanted to be a jock, I would wear sweat pants and a letter jacket. But I should probably first start by joining a sport. The point being, you decide how people view you based on the clothing you wear.

The reasons people give for wearing what they do are completely arbitrary. Some people dress because “it’s comfortable,” or “I feel like myself when I wear it.” Well I can be arbitrary about my style also. I want wear something different each day, because each day is different. I want to only wear blue because that’s what color my eyes are. Or I want to wear.

The clothes you wear are completely arbitrary. They should be about function. We all want to save money, so let’s buy cheap clothes. Or, it’s cold out, so let’s get some wintery clothes. Just like how swim suits are for swimming and bathing suits are for bathing?

Then again, clothes might be more than just function. I don’t wear glow in the dark clothes because I plan on going outside tonight. I don’t dress like a kid when I’m watching Disney movies. I don’t dress like a nerd when I’m studying. I guess my style has a room for improvement.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

?sihT daeR uoY naC

Some people say that Pink Floyd played backwards is some sort of satanic message. This got me wondering, what would one of my typical blogs sound like backwards. I've gone ahead and saved you the time by writing this blog backwards. All you have to do is read it. Let me know if it has some hidden message like Pink Floyd does.

.neeb evah thgim ti niaga neht teB .emit ruoy fo etsaw a neeb ton sah sihT

.dren a ton m’I tuB .tfel ot thgir morf etirw I dnA . gnivird nehw emit ssap ot daeh ym ni smelborp arbagla xelpmoc od I .esuorc fo ,ssalc hsilgne reven…ssalc ni derob m’I nehw smordnalap fo kniht I .srebmun eht gnitirw okodus od ot yrt I .efil ym fo stcepsa rehto ot ytilatnem derrefsnart ev’I .timil eht ot flesym gnihsup-egnellach lanosrep a sa ecar yreve dehcaorppa I . kcart dna yrtuoc ssorc nar I . segnellahc dekil syawla ev’I

.yaw gnitseretni na ni tirw ot ediced v’I , yaw gnitseretni na in gnihtemos tuoba gnitirw fo daetsnI . niarg eht tsniaga seog tI .gnitseretni tsuj si tI .uoy gniteserp m’I that noitamrofni lufthgisni eht morf hcum degnahc eb t’now uoy ,eruS ?golb siht fo tniop eht si tahW

.tluciffid yllaicepse si sdrawkcab gnitirW
.cixilsyd ylthgils m’I sa ees ,em rof tluciffid elttil a si sihT

.reisae s’ti ebyam tub ,sdrawkcab llits era srettel ehT .gniticxe si erus tI !erutaretil drawkcab fo dlrow a ot desopxe eb lliw uoy dna rorrim eht otni kooL
.siht ot pu rorrim a dloh si od ot evah uoy lla ,sdrawkcab daer t’nac uoy fI

!noitanimircsid s’that ,dednah thgir ylbaborp saw eH .thgir ot tfel morf etirw
ot dediced ohw ,naem I ,lausunu that ton s’tI .sdrawkcab etirw osla nac I .sdrawkcab gnidaer ot detimil ton m’I tuB .sdrawkcab daer nac I

.flesym tuoba elttil a uoy llet ot si sith dniheb elanoitar ylno ehT .sdrawkcab si golb elohw ehT .elzzup eht tuo derugif uoY !snoitalutargnoC

Monday, March 2, 2009

Mother Nature Breaks It Off With Common Sense; Celebrity Marriages Never Last.

I did not wake up this morning and decide to be in a bad mood. In fact, I stepped out of bed and thought that it would be a good day. I had some delicious waffles for breakfast. I checked my email, and class had been canceled. My agenda for today consisted of going to two easy classes and writing this blog. The outlook looked promising. Today seemed to be predisposed to be one that would go in Guinness’s World Records as “world’s most beautiful day.” And that’s a big deal, seeing how many days there have been in this world.

After packing my bag, I walked out the door to class. That’s when my day took a 180 degree turn in the form of 11 degree temperature, and at least 15 miles per hour winds. Looking outside was deceptive. The sun was shinning, but actually the wind chill was 8 degrees.

If this was January, my response might be something like, “I would expect this of a January in Indiana.” However, since it is March, my response is one of anger and more like, “Unacceptable, mother nature! You can do better than that!”

It’s finally March. I did not know that that meant that I had to still be cooped up inside all day.

Only 16 days until spring. Days like today just make spring seem so distant!

I am sitting in the computer lab right now, but I can’t escape acquiring frost bite from exposure to this winter weather. I guess the heaters were not ready for the cold weather. They were probably as surprised as I was. And to top it off, as soon as I finish this, I will need to venture out into the cold to get to my class. Woe is me!

I think that I can speak for all of us when I say that I’m ready for global warming to kick in. Can’t we deteriorate our O-zone a little bit faster? I would trade indecent amounts of UV exposure for these hellish conditions. To account for uncannily days like today, scientists have actually changed the name from “global warming” to “global climate change.” This was not the type of climate changed that I signed up for when I did my part to pollute our atmosphere!

The root of this blog is this: It is really sad that my day can be ruined by something as miniscule as the weather. I’m never upset for very long. Whenever I am upset about something; whether it be the weather, bad grades, bad food or a headache, I realize how fortunate I am. I may sometimes have to eat bad food, but people are starving throughout the world. I might get an occasional bad grade, but at least I am able to go to college. My head may hurt, but at least I have a head. The weather may be bad…but at least it’s not worse?

No, no matter how hard I try, I can’t manage to feel any better about the weather today.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

75 Year-Old Tackles 29 Year-Old Bandit

Think back to yesterday afternoon. Where were you? What were you doing? What was going through your mind?

I could narrow those answers down for you. I know that you were not doing. You were not in Stuart, Florida. You were not thinking of robbing an old elderly couple from a new computer. And you were not attacked by that elderly man trying to retrieve his computer from your adolescent ways. It you were, you would be sitting in prison with a $12,500 bail.

If that was you who did attempt to rob an elderly couple, then stop reading now because this is a blog dedicated to poking fun at you. If that wasn’t you, then keep reading, and I’ll tell you what happened. It is a true story; only the names, ideas, and facts have been changed to make it more interesting.

A feeble man walked out of a best buy carrying a newly purchased computer and printer.

(That’s your first clue that this is not just an everyday, vulnerable, helpless person simply asking to be burglarized. I know this because no weak elder could carry a computer and printer without being extraordinary stature.)

He was alone because his wife went to drive the car up to pick him up.

(Maybe he wasn’t all that strong after all, if he couldn’t walk to the car. He could be a good person to rob.)

That’s when the 29 year-old found his target- old man, alone, carrying hundreds of dollars in merchandise. The soon-to-be-thief approached the elderly man, sized him up, realized that it would be an easy robbery, he snatched to merchandise and took off like a coward.

He didn’t make it 8 feet until the feeble old man overtook the fit, young man. A nearby security guard saw the altercation and cleaned up the scene. Now that’s embarrassing!

I could only imagine the scene. Did the old man start beating him with his can? Maybe the wife waiting in the car for him came out and started striking him with her purse. Regardless of their weapon of choice, I would have paid good money to see it. If someone videotaped this scene, it would have five stars on youtube and a million viewers overnight.

Instead of being a youtube star, that young man is in prison. And I wonder how he is getting along with his cell mates. I can see a conversation unfolding between him and his cell mates:

“So, what are you in for?”

“I tried to steal a computer from a 75 year-old man. But boy was he fast!”

Rule #1 of being respected in prison—lie.

Monday, February 23, 2009

We all know these types of people. The type of person who has to “one-up” everything you say. These are the kinds of people I simply cannot talk to. The second that these people open their mouths, I embrace myself for some poorly conceived story putting themselves in the social spotlight.

Just picture 4 guys in hanging out in a room. One of them tells a story about how they twisted their ankle the other day. The competition ensues. The game has begun and each must have a better story than the preceding storyteller.

The game begins when one person tells tale of his twisted ankle.

Now the ball is in the court of the football player jock who says, “My senior year, I broke my ankle and still made the winning touchdown!”

The skater goes on the offense. “Oh yeah! Well, I was in the parking lot attempting a super-McTwistie- 360-front flip-tail grab- 0’spin-ally when I landed wrong and sliced my shin clear through.”

Then the hick says, “That’s nothing! I was huntin’ with my pa’. I shot at a grizzly, missed. It chased after me and ate my whole left foot. I wrestled it and it’s now the carpet in my living room.”

Guy with twisted ankle- 0

(hmm… the jock isn’t winning the competition?)

Maybe the guy with the twisted ankle legitimately wanted to just tell people how he twisted his ankle. He probably didn’t know it was a competition.

It really grinds my gears when I just say some offhand comment in everyday conversation. Immediately, Mr. “My story’s better” grabs my innocent, docile story and chokes it until it turns blue in the face from inadequate story telling. If I had known it had been a competition, I would have buttered up the story and sold it with all of the detail I could muster. I, however, find it much easier to just avoid socially competitive people.

The examples are countless:

“I had a bad date. I really liked this girl, but I don’t think she likes me.”

“Oh yeah! Well that’s nothing! I had a date, where I was late, I ran out of gas, my fly was unzipped, she beat me with her purse, and placed a restraining order on me!”

That never helps the situation.

Maybe the cause of this problem is that some people feel the constant need to be the center of conversation. Any focus of attention away from them is grounds for drawing the conversation back to hover around them. They do that buy one-upping and negating others’ stories.

Don’t be “that guy.” Nobody wants to hang out with “that guy.” Don’t say “those things.” Don’t try to draw attention to “yourself.” Don’t use “quotations” to emphasis the point that “you’re trying” to make. Quotations just “confuse” people. What am I “referring” to with these “excessive” quotations?”

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Lame Pet Peeves

I thought that it would be good to begin my blog by giving you my current surroundings. I am sitting in my foyer, working diligently without distractions. It is a peaceful environment; very conducive to writing blogs. However I have a slight uneasy feeling, almost as if I can sense a brutal fight starting. It is just a feeling. I will ignore it.

In this blog, I would like to address some of my pet peeves. Like how much I hate it when people over exaggerate. Also, acting childish can be fun. However, when that childish acts turn into immaturity is where I draw the line and become aggravated.

(Hold on, I’ll have to get back to this blog in a minute, there are two guys fighting to the death. I will come back to be blog later, but right now I will depict everything I see.

Both of these guys have knife. Both are swinging viciously. The walls and carpet are painted with fresh blood. These guys are relentless.

Sense comes to one of them and he says, “what are we fighting about?”

Guy #2 replies with, “I told you, I would kill you if you poked me again. I’m just keeping my word.” Apparently, they were poking each other, and one person pushed just too far.

“That was a dumb thing to say,” the first one says.

And it now appears as if the fight is over. We are chatting, and I think I might get back to my blog. Only they just asked me a question, “what are you working on?”

Being the good friend that I am, I tell them. “I’m writing about how much I despise it when people over exaggerate and act childish.”)

Where was I? Oh yes, I remember.

I can think of one example that incorporates both pet peeves:

Not five minutes ago, I witnessed two guys having some sort of poke fight. The first thing I thought was, “how cute, 20 year-old guys trying to poke each other.” The only definition I could place on their actions was, “man-flirting.” One of them lost their temper and shouted my least favorite phrase…

“Touch me again and I’ll kill you!”

He must have been bluffing.

The other guy bought his bluff, looked him in the eye with a childish grin, and poked him square in the chest.


Another pet peeve of mine is redundancy; like when people say the same thing multiple times. For example, they could give an example more than once. Or they give an example more than one time. Over exaggerating is a pet peeve of mine, and so is redundancy.

Monday, February 16, 2009

The Lone Wolf-Peach

I would bet that none of you know what lycopene is. I bet this computer does not know what lycopene is because it is telling me that I’m spelling it wrong. And can I take back my first bet, because, now that I think about it, there’s a good chance that many of you know what lycopene is. It is featured on every Heinz Ketchup bottle.

Why does Heinz have dibs on lycopene? Save some for the rest of us!

Lycopene is a powerful antioxidant and it’s found in ketchup. And that is the extent of everyone’s knowledge on the matter.

Keep in mind, this is not a boring medical journal or anything. I correct myself; it is boring, and it is something. 1 out of 3 isn’t bad… then again, it is twice as bad as failing. It looks like I need to correct myself again.

To further enhance my knowledge on the ever-growing topic of lycopene, I consulted the self-proclaimed experts at Wikipedia. They gave me a definition and brief explanation, only I wanted to learn for myself-not just read something.

The first step was to learn the root of the word “lycopene.” From there, I could start drawing conclusions on my own and learn about what true powers lycopene possesses. “Lyco-” is Greek for wolf. In this case, the derivation of “-pene” comes from “periscum,” Greek for “peach.” I will call lycopene “wolf-peach” for the rest of the article, seeing as I’m not trying to sound smart and don’t need to refer to it by its Greek name. I speak English, therefore, I will refer to lycopene by its English name.

Wolf-peach is a red pigment found in tomatoes, and is a powerful antioxidant. It has been proven that those who consume high amounts of wolf-peach are at less of a risk to develop cancer. Blatantly misleading! That statement addresses the correlation. But correlation does not mean they are at all connected. People with high consumption of wolf-peach must eat tomatoes a lot, more specifically ketchup, as ketchup contains the most wolf-peach of all tomato products. People don’t just eat ketchup. They put it on something. Often hotdogs. So people who eat a lot of hotdogs have a lower chance of getting cancer. I’m considering making this healthy change and eating, at least, 10 hotdogs a day.

But that’s not the end of the correlation. Consider this scenario. Maybe hospital cafes don’t serve ketchup because it looks too much like blood. No one wants to see blood right after surgery. Those who have cancer are at the hospital a lot. Therefore, they don’t eat as much ketchup. There’s another connection between wolf-peach and cancer patients.

Is wolf-peach good for you, or is it merely a marketing scheme by Heinz.

It’s good for you. The experts say so.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Mr. T Pities 18 Year-Old From Middletown, OH

As I mentioned in my last blog before the political rambling, I will primarily be presenting my opinion on news articles that I find. And with all of the excitement in the world and potential news stories, the first one I stumbled upon was a pressing matter. An eighteen year-old student buys 37,000 dollars worth of candy!


The questioning nature of my mind kicks into action.

How does an eighteen year- old student acquire thirty-seven grand? Many eighteen year-old students have jobs, but not many have such a salary. When I was eighteen, I think I might have made one, maybe two, thousand dollars throughout the year. The kid’s actually a genius. He mastered the basics of saving money- make someone else buy it. Yes, he entered someone else’s credit card number for payment. Brilliant! Foolproof! There were absolutely no gaps in his plan. He must have thought to himself, “who would have such an abundance of money as to not notice thirty-seven thousand dollars lavishly invested in candy? A publicly funded, under-budget school!” Yes, he used the school’s number to purchase the candy.

Would the school notice? Of course! But somehow they didn’t notice until the candy company contacted them. Maybe they didn’t notice because they gave the alleged kid their credit card number, knowing that the kid would make a purchase on behalf of the school. The school system was simply trying to frame an ex-student who, now no longer a student, is out of their jurisdiction and beyond the penile comprised of detentions and suspensions.

That is the most logical conspiracy want-to-be that I have ever heard, then again thought up myself. And if this illogical rationale holds true, then the school has the upper hand. The kid is now arrested with two counts of felony communications fraud. That’s just the real world sending the eighteen- year old a friendly welcome. A typical welcome might be a fruit basket. Only his fruit basket is filled with pears, cheese spread, chocolates, and a thirty-thousand dollar bail.

But don’t fret. For I have a stunning idea to raise money to post bail. I pose as a fake candy company (a fake company that sells candy, not a company that sells fake candy). A buddy of mine buys thirty thousand dollars worth of candy from me using that useful credit card number you’ve swindled from your school. Therefore, the school pays me thirty thousand dollars.

It’s a win-win situation. The first possible outcome is that I post your bail. If, on the outside chance that we get caught, my buddy goes to jail and you two will be cell-mates. And my friend is a cool guy, so you would like him.

Candy fraud is an epidemic that can be ignored no longer!

In conclusion, thirty- thousand dollars worth of candy is a lot of candy. It was worth the risk.

What's Actually Happening On "What's Happening Here..."

My blog with no perceivable direction seems to be finding a pattern. Many of them tend to be my own skewed opinion on some news stories that I’ve come across. Similar to the opinion articles in the newspaper, only with a few exceptions; I have cute pictures at the beginning of each article and this opinion section has only one person’s opinion. That’s me. There is room for your opinion also- the comment section. This blog is a democratic allegory. I am the government and you are my constituents. My opinion is the one that matters. You however do still have input. You can comment. Other than that, you are objects of my oppression, and you owe me your allegiance!

Monday, February 9, 2009

Sarcasm: The Most Highly Developed Form of Wit

Note: This is mostly sarcastic. Therefore, you can interpret it to mean whatever you want it to.

Some people just don’t appreciate the art of a solid use of sarcasm. I’ve heard a lot of people say that sarcasm is one of their biggest pet peeves.

Then again, it makes sense. Why would someone say the exact opposite of what they mean to convey what they actually do mean (and that was a rhetorical question, not sarcasm)?

But isn’t a little sarcasm beneficial? Yes. I will prove it. Take the following examples. Example “A” does not use sarcasm, on the other hand, example “B” utilizes sarcasm to the fullest. Each depict the same point, therefore, not one should be better than another:

(A) In order to learn more about sarcasm , I searched the web. I found that sarcasm is a form of speech using irony and is usually bitter or cutting. Sarcasm is known as the lowest form of wit. I disagree with this because sarcasm can sometimes be effective in conveying a point.


(B) In order to learn more about sarcasm, I checked with Wikipedia. Apparently, sarcasm is a form of speech using irony and is usually bitter or cutting. I know that this is true because I personally updated that entry yesterday. Sarcasm is known as the lowest form of wit. Then to test this website’s credibility, I searched “misleading” and “deception.” My theory was confirmed when and both ”misleading” and “deception” directed me to wikipedia’s home page.

The irony is tangible.

("Misleading" and "Deception" do not actually redirect you to wikipedia's home page)

So why is sarcasm so looked down upon? Some sarcasm is annoying, and in those circumstances, I side with the critics. When I do a job poorly at work, my incredibly witty manager might say to me “nice job,” and I think to myself, “Wow, effective use of sarcasm, buddy!” If his sarcasm bugged me, then why did I respond with sarcasm? Because my sarcasm is an exquisite example and it trumped my manager’s.

Let’s break down the sarcasm and analyze the uses of sarcasm from a scientific perspective. I’m much better at sarcasm than my manager.

All he did was say “Nice job” to imply “bad job, fix it.” By me saying “Wow, effective use of sarcasm, buddy,” I would have given him a smorgasbord of sarcasm. First off, I say “wow,” implying shock, as if his defective sarcasm actually surprised me. But then again, I didn't expect any better from his atempt at a witty comment. But the presence of sarcasm shows that the ability to think of a witty comment was beyond him. By saying “effective use of sarcasm,” I would be saying the opposite of that; it was really weak sarcasm, and I’m probably not going to fix the alleged “good job.” And to top it off I add a snide “Buddy” at the end. It’s funny because he is not my buddy. This article is not about sarcasm, it’s about how to lose a job.

I love sarcasm- seriously, not sarcastically. It is effective. You say the opposite of what you want to imply what you want to say in the first place. The true definition of sarcasm (not wikipedia’s definition) should be "just a round-about way of saying one thing when you mean another in order to portray to the audience your original idea and to make it easier for them because they don’t know what you’re talking about until you restate the original, sarcastic statement, only this time putting the sarcasm on hold". Now wasn’t that easier to understand than “a form of ironic speech.”

What's great is that half of this entry is sarcastic.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Hope Implies Desperation

I was briefly watching the news last night. There was a story covering the inauguration. That was a couple weeks ago, so it must have been a slow day for news. I guess nothing new was happening. There was a lady being interviewed who witnessed the inauguration. She said, “There is so much hope. You can really feel it.”

This got me thinking, why did we really elect our president? What were our motives?

“There is so much hope. You can feel it”

Those two sentences express much more than two thoughts. I believe we can all agree that right now, there needs to be some changes made in our country’s leadership. Hope is a feeling, not an a change or an improvement. And what about this “feeling” that the interviewee had? I don’t think that what our country needs now is to feel good, or feel hope. I think that we need results.

I feel good about giving money to a homeless man. He then spent the money on drugs and got too plastered to remember the grace I lent him.

It might be about time we, as a nation, start thinking about our domestic problems at home. Maybe divert our resources away from those who “need” them thousands of miles away, and focus them within our own borders

I feel hopeful that this entry is good enough already to receive an excellent grade, even if I just wrapped it up right now. If that’s really how I feel, then maybe I need a reality check.

It might be good if our nation’s citizens focus on a president that can show that feelings of hope are not sufficient in the real world. There must be tangible results. Not abstract, poorly conceived ideas that might appear good on paper (or a convincing speech), but when addressed logically appear more like a perfect child’s Sunday school answer.

I feel upset when you rubbed it in my face that you beat me in a game of basketball. But looking closer, I have won every game that we’ve played since we were kids. You are justified.

Some people think that finally having a black president is a huge accomplishment in breaking down racial barriers. Other’s feel that the sheer fact that race is mentioned and celebrated is a testament that racism exists. Maybe it doesn’t matter if Barack Obama is black. And it does not matter that his race is celebrated. It is about time we look closer at each other, instead of finding masks to veil our racism.

My hope for America is this:
We stop worrying about specifics following the president. We rally behind him weather conservative, liberal, or our race. We start thinking for ourselves; when we do, we can have a credible voice and truly be a democracy ran by the people- for the people. And most of all, we stop feeling hope and start making change.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Photographer: Guilty, Michael Phelps: Still Kind of Guilty

Fourteen-time Olympic gold medal winner, Michael Phelps, was caught doing what one-half of all college-aged people have done; smoke marijuana. This article was released a month ago today, so maybe it’s old news, if it was, I just had not heard it until today.

Phelps’s plan to add to his fourteen gold medals in the 2012 Olympics might have been traded for a few puffs at a college party last November. A picture was taken of him inhaling from a bong. The World Anti-Doping Agency rules state that drug users face a two-year ban.

Wow! Our morals have fallen off the deep end. You know it is a miserable day when society turns to handing reporters evidence of their heroes and role models getting smashed. He just won fourteen gold medals and made over one-hundred million dollars. Life has to be tough, so just give him a break, danget!

Who was the photographer who took the illicit picture to begin with? And what new devilry made the photographer squeal? This sure is a time of loose morals.

Phelps showed up unexpectedly at a house party at the University of South Carolina in Columbia. He walked in and everyone was gawking. Phelps gave these college students a brush with fame. How do Phelps’s fellow partiers return the favor? They sell him out to news reporters. They disgust me!

Now Phelps has to take the hit for those fickle sources who sold his dignity to the press.

Phelps never hurt anyone by smoking except for himself. Those who sold him out to the press caused a world of hate. Phelps’s swimming career is now in jeopardy. Children mourn their role model’s loss of innocence. Parents everywhere are now consoling their distraught children and have to explain what drugs are to their children's virgin ears. But of course, Phelps is the one being punished.

Phelps broke the law and got caught doing it. But, I, along with so many others, am a Michael Phelps fan. I don’t want him to be punished. But as the too commonly used, and rarely thought out phrase goes, “rules are rules.”

Here is an idea. The typical pot head’s solution to every problem is now applicable; legalize marijuana. “ C’mon, it’s not that bad for you... it’s not as addictive as cigarettes…uhh drug traffic, economy, man.” That argument does not convince many lawmakers. If you really want to legalize marijuana, then get out your pens and papers and send a letter to you congressman. You now have a solid, logical reason to legalize marijuana. Michael Phelps does not need to be punished if he has not done anything wrong.

Even though I am relatively conservative and have never partaken in this socially encouraged rite to “maturity,” I think marijuana should be legalized. I could go into more details, but if this blog was any longer you would have closed this window and found something else to read.

Looking past all of the sarcasm, my underlying point is that people need to relax and not scrutinize people’s personal lives, even if they are celebrities. When Michael Phelps is in the water, he can be mistaken for a fish, a shark, or even a role model; but outside of the pool, he transforms and resembles an actual human being, who makes human mistakes. Is it really that hard to believe?

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Mathematical Proof: The Key Behind A Good New Year's Resolution

We’re 28 days into the New Year, and I wonder how everyone’s New Year’s resolutions are holding up. Maybe I view a lot of people as unmotivated, or ill willed, or undetermined; but whatever the reason, I assumed that most New Year’s resolutions have already been sacked.

I don’t judge character by commitment to a resolution. But I was curious as to the percentages of people who stick to their New Year’s Resolutions. I figured I would check online because it’s the most credible source available. Why would people lie on the internet? I think of the internet and indisputable facts as one in the same. I mean, people don’t just have websites devoted to making up lies, do they?

…keep reading to find out the answer.

Credible or not, I found some lovely stats pertaining to New Year’s Resolutions. And in order to make the stats more enjoyable I will relate them to the (currently) 20 followers of my blog (I will exclude myself due to biasness, but really it’s because it’s harder to do math with a base 21 compared to 20). We can then see how many of you will follow through with your goal.

Okay, grab the pencil and paper. See if you can follow this math.

First off, only 45% of you actually set New Year’s resolutions. That’s 9 of you! See, aren’t percentages so much more fun when they are people? I changed my mind and I do want to include myself in these statistics. Now 10 people made New Year’s resolutions.

Two weeks into the year, 2 of you dropped your goal. After 1 month, 1 more person will ditch your goal. Be careful, that’s only 3 days away. 1 more of you will desert your goal when July comes around. And then there were 5.

Those remaining made it half a year. I’m impressed. But my vim is short lived. Something will happen in the 6 months that follow that will eliminate you all from the title of grand champion. That’s right, you understood my analogy correctly; statistically, our sample is too small for any of you to cash in on your New Year’s resolution.

Pretty grim, eh? Don’t worry, there is hope yet. If you got our sample group (my blog’s followers) and added me and 6 more people. Then there would be 1 person who stuck with their resolutions for a whole year. What are you waiting for? Get recruiting! Statistically, none of you will accomplish your New Year’s resolutions.

Only 6 people, that’s not a lot. As I recall, that’s the number of my blog’s followers who have stuck with their New Year’s resolutions thus far.

If we just had 6 more followers of my blog then one of you in our sample group will achieve your resolution. Statistically, if only 45% of people set New Year’s resolutions. With 27 people (20 followers +me + 6 recruits), that would be about 12 of you who set New Year’s resolutions. Only 8% of those who set New Year’s resolutions will stick with them after a year (12 x .08 = .96, which I’ll round up to 1).

Obviously, no matter what provisions you make to achieve your goal, they are futile, if you leave out the key step: recruitment. If you made a New Year’s resolution, and have stuck with it this far (statistically 64%, .64 x 9=~6 of you)you need to recruit one follower each to get a total of 26 followers, add me to the sample, and one of you will achieve your New Year’s resolution. It is the only way.

Monday, January 26, 2009

The Breast Is Best

PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) sent a plea to Ben & Jerry’s that would revolutionize the ice cream industry and save numerous cows from suffering. The answer: breast milk from women.

When I read this, I thought,”Brilliant! Why exploit cows, when we could just as easily have a warehouse of women being milked dry!”

Knowing that if breast milk were to catch on, PETA would have to give it a push out the door by using the catchphrase, "the breast is best."

PETA was bold enough to argue that cow milk is a not good for you. In PETA’s letter to Ben & Jerry, they state that, “Dairy products have been linked to juvenile diabetes, allergies, constipation, obesity, and prostate and ovarian cancer.” That’s scary. What is even scarier is that the common household drug, Ibuprofen (Advil) has some similar side effects. Keep in mind that food, in general, causes obesity and diabetes. It’s not that I’m too stubborn to change, but they’re going to have to present a little more evidence that makes dairy products unhealthy.

I also wonder the effects of cutting dairy products out of my diet. I wonder if I could function just as well without having calcium or vitamin d.

I can’t imagine Ben & Jerry’s continuing to place their dangerous products on the shelves for their unenlightened costumers' consumption. In the case that Ben & Jerry’s did not immediately convert to breast milk, PETA had to be relentless.

PETA pointed out the lives of torment endured by cows. Cows are impregnated every nine months in order to continue producing milk. I guess the farmers don’t consider the cows feelings and if they even wanted to start a family. Those dang insensitive farmers! After a few years of this torture, they are butchered. Male cows are utterly(haha) useless on milk farms, so they are sold to veal farms where they are on death row, without parole! How can those farmers sleep at night.

Ben & Jerry’s has over 580 stores. That’s a lot of ice cream. That’s a lot of milk. If Ben & Jerry’s switches to breast milk, they would by providing a lot of women with jobs. But think of the work conditions. They would be forcefully impregnated every nine months. And the males would be shipped off away from their mothers. After a few years of this torture, they would be let go because Ben & Jerry’s would go out of business spending all of their money these women’s milk. Not to mention, no one would buy ice cream made from breast milk over cow milk. That’s just nasty.

I if wonder feminists would end up writing a letter to Ben & Jerry’s urging them to use milk from animals.

PETA, I appreciate your passion and concern, but how about you be realistic. Maybe the day will come when breast milk will be as common and as accepted at cow milk. If that day comes,women would be couped up in warehouses selling milk, while cows would be roaming the country side, enjoying their newfound freedom. PETA, is that your utopia?