Soul Mates

In my youth, I used to lay in bed and imagine epic movie-like scenarios in which I would suddenly encounter The One. The stunning, beautiful, intellectual, creative and perfect vision of a women who would make everything in my life meaningful and amazing.

For years I kept hanging on to that fleeting, seductive notion, only to find myself in an ocean of disappointment and heartache.

But the idea lives on in many of us to this day.

What causes us to become so fixated on one person? To feel for someone so intensely that even the most beautiful person imaginable could walk by, and you would not notice.

What better way to illustrate the way people feel regarding this topic than to share my own personal story, by getting uncomfortably naked, vulnerable and open about one particular girl from my history.

Are you ready?

Let the awkwardness begin.

A CHANCE ENCOUNTER

I first met January while registering for 9th grade. She was absolutely beautiful and seemed to radiate an intangible aura of mind perfume, to which my olfactories were perfectly tuned for. I did not know it yet, but from meeting her that first day, I was already in love. (I know. "Love" at age 14. How profound).

During a few classes together, I finally got up the courage to begin chatting with her, found out we had some things in common, and soon I had her number and was talking with her almost every night. (A bit much you might say. Correct. At this point I had not learned the adage, "absence makes the heart grow fonder.").

My own interpersonal experience was barely even nil (if that), and my immaturity only matched (at least I was coordinated). Through a series of stupid (or maybe just pathetic and inexperienced) words and actions (which I'll probably make a separate blog about, so as to dwell on my embarrassing moments forever), I made inadvertently sure that there would be no chance for romance between us.

Why?

In essence, I was young, naive, and had no concept of the word "subtle". I'll just leave it there for now.

Time passed, and she began dating a guy who she would eventually spend almost a decade with. They seemed happy, and were joined at the hip. (Strangely, the very spot I wanted to place reservations for). Needless to say, I was pretty disgruntled, confused, hurt and depressed.

There she goes, the most beautiful, amazing, intriguing girl I'd ever known, and... there goes the guy she's dating. I had a secret almost-hatred for him. I say "almost" because I really did not hate him. I hated myself for being a fucking pathetic unlovable, socially-awful relationship-miscreant.

My last ditch effort was to write a song for her (typical huh?). However, I never got to know what she thought of it, because just as she was about to tell me in class, I chose to be an idiot (yet again) and ignore her out of jealousy and spite (yeah, that will make her like you! Good one Niko. You're a genius).

What a dumbass. I want to fucking punch myself in the nuts.

A NEW OPPORTUNITY?

After high school, I had a run-in with her at a company party for a local recoding studio. She was apparently single (one of the numerous times she broke up with, then later got back together with her high school boyfriend). For some reason, she displayed strange verbal, and even body language signs that she was possibly a little bit interested in me.

What? Why? I don't understand.

I was intrigued and confused by her behavior, and I did manage to grab her cell phone number just in case.

As it turns out, she was going to college in Boulder at the time, and coincidentally, so was my high school chum-dude-pal-bro Brian. Well, what a perfect opportunity to go down to Boulder and see her right? I'll grab Brian, and that way it will feel super casual. Man I'm smart!

I picked up Brian and found the house she was staying at. Unfortunately the conversations this time were hard fought and awkward.

During the conversation I found out that she was indeed dating someone else, which crushed my little pointless heart, and put it in an air-tight tin can with its own juice/blood.

I left disappointed.

Nothing more became of it.

Until...

WHAT ARE THE ODDS?

A few years later I got an email for my band promoting some local online radio station that wanted me (the band) to send or upload music to their site.

I read the email with only vague interest, as there was probably a fee involved, but then happened to glance at what name was listed as the reply contact.

Yes.

It was her.

There could be no question, as she has a very memorable, and somewhat unique full name, which I doubt I'll see anywhere else. (unless I write it on my computer screen, in which case I'll see it quite frequently).

I replied to the business email asking if it was indeed her, and what do you know.

What a strange coincidence don't you think? What are the odds that a random online radio company would send my band an email, and it would re-connect me to my high school love. (Me being in love with her, remember. Not us being sweethearts).

There must me something to that, right? Or so we'd all like to feel.

THE ALMOST DATE

Once I had begun emailing her, we decided to get together (probably more like me asking her). She seemed interested again, somehow, so I looked forward to my first opportunity to have a legitimate date with her (an opportunity I did not fuck up ahead of time by being an immature socially-inept romantic moron).

Overall the date was fun. We went out on the town seeing some live music and checking a few of her favorite bars. Just being with her felt wonderful. Most of the time I'd imagine what it would be like to look at her and know she was mine.

*sigh*

I'm a loser.

So...

At the end of the night, I was going to drop her off at her apartment, and maybe talk some more there, but before I can suggest that, she asks me to drop her off at her old high school boyfriend's apartment.

Huh?

I looked at her strangely, not understanding the situation.

But being the good little boy, I do, though thoroughly confused, as I thought we were on a date, and she was single. (recap. No, and no).

I can remember dropping her off, with a sad look of "you lied to me" all over my face. She looked at me with a hint of compassion and realization, and quietly said, "I'm sorry."

Boy am I a delusional dumbass. So much for that positive evening, Niko.

For better or worse, after our hanging out, she got a job offer and moved to New York. She called me a bit during the move, then we both got busy and conact again fell away.

But...

COMING THIS CLOSE

Years later, after breaking up with my last girlfriend, I received a comment on Myspace from her saying happy birthday, (yes it actually was. Birthday I mean, not happy) and a few more pleasantries. Nothing over the top, but still it was nice to hear from her.

We began sending long involved emails to each other both detailing our recent breakups and the lessons we were learning about ourselves and people. Strangely similar. Uh oh, you know what that means...

Soul mate.

Soon we were talking on the phone, at first once a week, then slowly more frequently. We would have wonderful three hour conversations about relationships in general, our ex's, and our personal views and growth from it all.

I did my best not to repeat the behavior of the immature child from high school and tried to act more casual and nonchalant. And it seemed to be working.

Maybe too well.

As happens all too often for me, I found myself drifting into advice counselor mode, on all manners of subjects for her. Don't get me wrong, I love teaching and sharing my knowledge with others if I feel like I'm benefiting them, but the danger of this is that this kind of social interaction immediately puts me into the dreaded "good friend" category.

Fuck. I always do that to myself.

Finally realizing that I was already far into the "advice buddy" realm, I tried to help the situation by sending her a nostalgic memento she could keep on her desk at work, reminding her of me. It was actually pretty clever, if you ask me, referencing something between only us from high school, and tying it into the present. I was happy with it. And according the voicemail she left me after receiving it, so was she.

Very much so it seemed.

It seemed indeed.

She began calling me more spontaneously, which of course, made me feel quite nice in my tummy, and our conversations were still very enjoyable. But also very friendly. And only friendly. No flirty comments, or little hints of attraction anywhere.

Then I found out that she had just recently met someone (like really recently) and she was curious to see where it would go.

Heart.

Shattered.

For.

Billionth.

Time.

I did not want to hear that, but I tried to stay calm and cool. Yet I could not keep it up. Talking to her was now too painful for me. I had to make a decision.

So I wrote her an email laying it all out.

I explained that I'd felt something very strong for her since I met her, and have no desire to be just the good friend who only counsels her on her new relationships. It was unfair to me and how I felt. I explained to her that I could not keep up the contact anymore, due to my emotions.

If she ever felt like giving something a try between the two of us, by all means. But until then, I felt it was best for me not to not talk to her anymore.

So I ended it.

It took everything I had.

MORE THEN COINCIDENCE

I had someone tell me, upon hearing this whole back story, that they thought there was something to our "connection". He told me that he "felt" that there was "something there" and, because our encounters become closer and closer to materializing in something concrete, he figured that in a few years our paths would cross again. But this time for real.

Boy that sure sounds nice doesn't it? And why would you not want to believe something that makes you feel like there is something wiser than you at work underneath it all? Something that could magically connect you with your ideal person in life. That you are destined for love.

I want to believe it with all my heart (the parts of my heart that are not jaded, bitter, broken and canned by Del Monte). But I can't. And I won't.

It's just not true folks. Believing something because it sounds great does not make something real. And above all, it makes no sense if you try to base it in logical reality. And that, as you may have gathered, is the way I want to live my life. As close to what reality actually is as possible. I'll save imagination and fantasy for my art, where it belongs.

THE REALITY OF SOUL MATES

So is January my soul mate?

Nope.

To this day I feel something very strong for her, this much is true. But I have no idea why, still, after years have passed, if I see her photo in an old yearbook or online, the feelings return. It makes no sense. And it pisses me off. I don't want to be in love with her anymore. It's a useless feeling that will never come to fruition.

As much as I wanted to believe it in my younger years, the concept of a soul mate holds little water.

We base all of this on our intangible and random emotions, equating what we feel to be representative of what is real.

Take small towns for example. People can spend their whole lives in one small town, fall in love, marry and have a family, only with the selection of people in that small town. What are odds? If there is only one true person for you, than shouldn't they be dispersed randomly over the whole world? Most people would never find theirs, as he (or she) would be living in Australia, and she (or he) would be in Japan, India, or Iceland.

Think of how many times you've formed a strong bond, romance or connection with someone in your life. Is each of those people a soul mate? Just one? How could you tell?

By and large, the seductive yet nearsighted concept of a soul mate implies far too much new age spirituality for my tastes (any is too much for me). It implies fate, destiny, divine intervention and probably even an afterlife where you may have even known each other (a beforelife?). Again, makes no logical sense.

As much as we would want to believe that there is that one true amazing love out there for each of us, in reality there are likely thousands of people we could be compatible with all over the world, just based on percentages. And to me, those odds are far better for personality compatibility, than the almost futile, yet romantic prospect of searching six billion people for The One.



Related blogs:
A Spoonful Of Relationships Will Cure What Ails Ya!
Run-in With The Beautiful People
The Lust Complex

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Tags: love relationships soul soul mates fate destiny meant to be philosophy psychology

Artistic Integrity And The Dichotomy Of Success

I've been dealing with the concept of art and music a lot lately and I'm feeling compelled to share some of my thoughts, as they actually pertain to my current situation.

Let me know what you think (in cursive only).

A CAREER IN MUSIC

I recently met up with an old elementary school friend of mine for drinks and coffee. We had, what I considered to be, great conversations and I thoroughly enjoyed the get together.

As we are both musicians, it's only logical that music would be a topic. And it was. (See, told ya).

My opinions on music, and music as a career have evolved quite a bit since I was the rapscalion of yesteryear, so it's always interesting for me to see where others are in their personal perspectives.

Well, my elementary school friend wants to make an album that will really sell and appeal to a lot of people.

Understandable from a particular point of view, sure.

He said that he does not want to write a bunch of crap, he still wants the music to be good, and represent him and his voice, but he wants people to like it right away.

If you're curious, this would be his very first album.

Unlike me, he believes that he can be successful in music, still, in this economy, and with the business crumbling all around us. Obviously he is much more of an optimistic than I.

So that is, or seems to be, his current philosophy. And more power to him.

But it has not been mine, at least so far.

PHILOSOPHIES ON ARTISTIC EXPRESSION

I said already that I do not agree with him on this point. So what do I think?

(You can stop holding your breath now, here comes your full release of opinion).

My perspective is this: If I'm going to make the choice to put effort into a project, it might as well be the thing that I personally would want to hear, and not compromise what I feel is the core of the art.

There are already an abundance of sub-par to shitty albums out in the world put out by bands who don't give two shits about creating actual art. Why would I possibly want to contribute to the ever growing waste pile by putting out pandering to mediocrity?

Art, and purity of art has been important to me for quite a while. Some say it's bullshit, which is no skin off my back (fuck! My back skin just came off!!!). That's just what I care about.

To me putting out something into the world that has the potential to be emotionally impactful, intellectually stimulating, does not condescend to people, has purpose or a cause or message, and speaks something personal is much more worth creating (and worth listening to), than something that is designed purely to make money.

Is there really a difference between the two?

I definitely think so.

I've heard people say that if your art does not piss some people off, you're doing something wrong.

Or that art that everyone likes must be garbage.

That's a fairly extreme view, and very similar to the artist character from my house party blog. But is there some truth to that?

Again, I think so. If the goal is communication of a feeling, thought, or concept to an audience, the impactful, most creative, most cutting edge ideas will never appeal to everyone on a large scale. And that's okay.

THE DICHOTOMOUS CAREER IN ART

A career in music is quite different than a career in art I would argue. And just so we're clear, I'm using the word art in a broad sense meaning an all-encompassing creative project, not literally, as in a painting of Elvis.

Here is the flaw, and where money and art collide.

Generally, when people speak about art in the big picture sense, they are considering qualifications like the purity of the art, freedom from compromise, and the ability to create whatever is in their imagination, not beholden to traditional restrictions of contemporary styles, tastes, or conventions. Literally the freedom to create what you want because you believe in it.

Take that philosophy to heart when considering a career in music.

Let's say you have a successful debut album, and many people enjoy what you've done. Great. (Unless it was shitty, then not so good). Now it's time to make album numero dos.

Let's pretend that you care about artistic expression, and want to diversify and do something more experimental on your next record, because that's where your heart is. (Some say it's at home. But that's where you hang your hat).

If you release that new, different record to the fans, the ones that wanted more of what you've done before, you run a very high risk of alienating your fan base, and not making any money from the album. Sure it could be a hit, but the odds are against you.

Since your career path is music, and only music, that is where you need to make your money, so being overly artistic and pioneering is actually a bad choice from a business perspective, yes?

In order to make money, you need to run your music like any other product and try to directly appeal to the consumer by making what you know they already want, not showing them something they did not know existed.

Therefore to have your financial well-being directly and solely tied to your art, you have to, by definition, compromise your art so that it will sell to as many people as possible to sustain the career, thereby negating the entire philosophy of art being pure personal expression.

Sadly art as a career rarely happens. And when it does, it's luck my friends. Pure Luck. (But thankfully, not that shitty movie with Martin Short).

SELLING OUT

When I embarked on this long complicated journey five years ago that would culminate in my soon to be released (as of 8/09) 3rd album, I was working with a friend of mine, and great musician to bounce early ideas off of, or to help in developing some guitar riffs and melodies to complement my initial piano progressions.

In the beginning, I explained to him my loose road map of what I wanted to do with this album. I wanted to challenge myself from nearly every aspect this time: longer songs, more changes per song, more complex instrumentation, more unexpected chord changes and melodies, and something that really told a cohesive story musically from beginning to end.

Those are big shoes to fill for sure (I'm size 11), and whether or not I accomplished that goal for the album is not up to me.

The point being that from the outset, my musician friend was all gung-ho about the direction and style. It left him ample room to throw out suggestions that may have seemed to avant-garde in the past, but were completely valid in this new territory. At least that is how I felt when composing.

Half a year later things had changed. Not for me, mind you. (Are you minded yet?)

I could tell he seemed less and less interested in working on the style and direction of the album I was developing, and soon he began suggesting an entirely different idea.

I'll have to paraphrase as I don't recall exactly what was said. But it went something like this:

"Hey man, I've been listening to a lot of more simple music these days like [band name] and [other band name] and that's really the kind of thing that I feel like I want to be doing right now."

I conceded that I also liked one or both of the bands he mentioned, and had no problem with more simplistic music in general (assuming it's still melodic and subjectively good), but that this current album of mine was designed to be a particular style and feel. Simplicity would have to wait for another project, as this one was supposed to be the antithesis of that.

He appeared to accept my defense of the current project, but immediately tried to convince me to do something he knew I had argued against in the past.

"Yeah, I'm just not into the really progressive stuff right now though. I was thinking about this a lot lately and if you wanted to do another band that was just really simple, really super catchy music, I'd be all for working on that."

I raised an eyebrow, as this was coming from the same person who was so enthralled and excited with pushing and expanding our musical preconceptions just a few months ago. But I kept listening to his idea.

"I just feel that you could write some really good poppy stuff if you wanted to, and we could totally make money off of that. People like the really commercial-sounding music. Just look at what's going on. All that complex, musically progressive stuff just won't sell, save for music students. You have to please the people. You can't just write whatever artsy thing you want for yourself."

I can't write what I want for myself? What happened to you my friend? What happened to the guy that made emotional, artistic music an important pillar in his life? The one who wrote songs for himself, because he was moved to do so? The guy who cared about the beauty and integrity of music, regardless of the style or genre it was written in?

Looking back I know that some of his shift in priorities stemmed from his frustration of getting close to thirty and feeling like has not done anything with himself. (I'm in a similar boat right now, in some ways). He was feeling that if we simply gave into the current musical trends, and fucked our previous notions of music as genuine art, that we could instantly have a successful career path in the business.

Is it possible?

Perhaps.

But it is not in any way, shape, or form what I want.

A MATTER OF PRIORITIES

As you may already see, it all depends on what your goals are with that particular project.

Is your goal to create the thing that most reflects your personal perspectives, no holds barred?

Or is it to be tranditionally successful?

I can tell you that while being successful doing what my old guitarist advocated might initially be exciting and/or monetarily fulfilling, I would soon come to regret my choice of direction, and would become bitter (sorry, more bitter) and dissatisfied with it.

It all comes down to what your priorities are. Is traditional success (money and fame) your top priority? Great. Go get it. Write a bunch of songs with the aim of pandering to a mass audience and enjoy it. Honestly, best of luck to you.

However those are not my priorities, and have never been.

In my mind, most paramount of all, is the creation of music that is personal, emotionally expressive, and imaginative. If it does not fulfill those basic criteria for me, then I see no reason to do it (unless it is a specific project like a comedy skit, or a song about making fun of goth kids).

I will say the downside of focusing on art over accessiblity, is that you run the high risk of only appealing to a small group of people, or even no groups of people.

But if that does not conflict with your priorities, so be it. I'd rather look back and be proud of what I offered unto the world, than be embarrassed for something I did on purpose.

CONDESCENDING MUSIC AND CHALLENGING ART

One of the comments I received from my elementary school friend about the music on my new album, is that it is rather challenging. Basically, it's not one of those albums that you like instantly on a first pass listen, due to the fact that thre are so many parts per song, and way too much to absorb right away.

I acknowledged his observation, saying that most people who have given it a few listens have ended up really connecting with it on a personal and emotional level. But it took some time.

So is that bad? Is that good? Let's get some more opinions stat!

I have always enjoyed music that did not assume I was an idiot. I have developed a hatred of music that talks down to me, using overly-simplistic, tried and true, run of the mill melodies and chord patterns that have been used for half a century, and lyrics that were written by a thirteen year old who is new to concept of poetry.

That is what I call condescending music. It assumes your audience has the IQ of recent road kill, and the depth of a rotting beet field. Sure, many people embody those traits, but not everyone does.

I don't like being treated like a child wearing a helmet, so I choose to give people the benefit of the doubt (when it comes to appreciating new music and art that is).

I believe that it's okay to challenge people. It's okay to ask something of your listeners. It's okay to make people actually think about something for a while.

What you put into it, is what you get out of it.

Some of my favorite albums of all time, I did not really care for upon a first listen. "Hmm, I don't know," I remember thinking. "I liked a few parts here and there, but I'm not really loving this album. Maybe I'll try it again later."

And luckily, I did try it again later. And eventually, with each successive listen, I discovered more and more that I had not heard before, and also more and more that I really liked. Now I love them, and put them on a list of best albums of all time.

It was because I put effort into understanding and absorbing those initially challenging albums that I ended up feeling more connected to them in the long run. I was rewarded for my effort with a deeper intellectual and emotional connection to a piece of art.

THE FINAL THOUGHT

So that's how I feel. I care about music as a form of artistic expression, even when many do not, and would rather put out something that I truly believe in, that may never sell, than make money off of something that is only contributing to the continual dumbing down of popular culture.

Too extreme? Do these opinions hold any weight?

Weigh in.


Related blogs:
Existentialist Artist And Drunk Evangelist part 1
The Death Of The Album And The Death Of Music

Enjoy reading this blog? Please socially bookmark this page, or post it on your Facebook, and most of all comment with your personal stories, observations, or violent objections.

Visit the all new DeprecationWear online store! Sarcastic, self-deprecating and elitist merchandise. Click HERE to see my wares!



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Tags: art artistic integrity music philosophy selling out perspective priorities beauty pure

The National Anthem. Music, Politics And Pride.

This little ditty takes place just a few days ago at the restaurant in which I get yelled at.

We had changed many of the televisions to the football (futbol) game between USA and Mexico, which all of the kitchen staff was very excited about.

Again, I'm not a sports fan, but since it's something a bit different from what is normally on, I tried to watch a bit of it. Before the game started, they played both national anthems. (When is someone going to write The International Anthem? I'll let composer extraordinaire George Thorogood tackle that nuanced, multi-cultural melodic theme).

As the American National Anthem played, I mentioned to one of the kitchen staff that I thought our anthem sucked, from a musical perspective (because it does). He nodded, and did not seem to care one way or the other. Being from Mexico City, the American Anthem probably mattered not to him.

It just so happens that one of my managers was standing nearby and had overheard my comment.

When I asked that manager a bit later if I could take a break, he replied with:

"No, because you hate the national anthem."

He said this with a smile, intending to convey his comment as simply sarcastic, but he said it with such conviction, that one could tell there was a good amount of truth mixed in there as well.

I tried to clarify my comment by explaining that it was the musical content I objected to.

"It's just not a very good song." I said, as if that would make everything alright.

"What are you, a fucking terrorist?" According to him, I was now equivalent to a terrorist. And I'm sure you can easily see why.

You know terrorists, the kinds that commit violent acts of destruction and violence for religious or political reasons?

That's me.

Obviously.

I smiled at his silly comment, but again, as before, I could tell there was some truth in his comment. Part of him actually felt that I was on par with al-Qa'ida for my opinion on a song.

Again, with no luck, I tried to say that what I was really objecting to was the melodic content. I tried to tell him that I thought the song was uninteresting in its chord structure, rather predictable and bland.

My clarification appeared to work, as I was now upgraded from terrorist to Commy.

"Dude, you can't not like the national anthem," he stated.

When I asked him why, he said that the reason I cannot not like it is because it is about pride.

"Really?" I thought to myself. "I thought I was able to like or not like anything I so choose, and If I actually could not dislike the anthem then I would be living under a tyranny."

Of course, I did not say that. Actually, I only thought of it right now, so I was lying to you.

As he took a quick phone call, he said he was determined to win the argument.

Once he was off the phone, I decided to take his example to the extreme and apply that theory to everything. Maybe I could make a point.

"Let's say I don't like The Candy Man Can from Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory. Does that mean I don't like candy?"

He raised an eyebrow at me as if what I was saying was really stupid. And perhaps it was, but it made sense to me.

"No man, that's not the same..."

I continued with another example.

"Or if I don't like the Beatles' "All You Need Is Love", does that mean I hate love, or just the song?

Again, he said that my examples were totally off. The anthem was different.

I disagree.

"Different how?" I prodded.

"If you don't like it you are a Commy, a Nazi, or a terrorist. Grow your mustache back Hitler!". He thought this was hilarious. (By the way I did actually sport a Hitler/Chaplin 'stache for a day at work, for a fun social experiment, and because I was bored).

I denied his insult-based-evidence and told him that if my other song examples do not apply to his theory that 'not liking a song about America instantly means I hate America', then he is being inconsistent and hypocritical with these arbitrary rules he wants to apply to only one song.

That is called special pleading. When you apply a rule to everything else but the thing you are arguing, or apply a rule to only the thing you are arguing, and ignore everything else. Sorry buddy, it does not work that way.

Imagine going to a retail store flying a large banner out side proclaiming that "Everything is on sale!" So you enter, and browse the aisles until you find the item you want. At the checkout the item rings up at full price. You stop the clerk and say, "Wait, that is supposed to be on sale." He says, "No, sorry, this is regular price." Confused you restate the rule of the sign, "I thought that everything was on sale?" He shakes his head, "Everything but this thing."

I'm guessing you might want to get rid of, or possibly change that sign that says everything is on sale, eh?

Sorry, I got sidetracked. I believe he was defending his reasons.

"No way!" he retorted. "You can't judge the anthem the way you can judge other songs."

"Bullshit!" I said, getting heated about this discussion, matching his intensity. "The national anthem is just a song, like any other song, therefore I can judge it as a song. And I think that it sucks... AS A SONG."

Obviously this conversation was going nowhere, as I saw the topic as one based upon music, and he did not make that distinction. There was no way I could see us coming to any sort of agreement.

I can't defend his point of view, but I sure can defend mine.

Music and message do not have to be synonymous. There are very political bands out there that have a strong liberal or conservative slant, yet not everyone who likes their music subscribes to the bands' views. It's possible that people can just like the music.

I've listened to a lot of black and death metal over the years, both with crazy lyrics talking about Satan, demons and disemboweling women through their Va-jay-jays.

Does that mean I agree wholeheartedly with those ideas?

Fuck no.

(Though I am a card-carrying member of the Satanic Vaginal Intestine Rippers Of Colorado (SVIROC))

Those lyrics are retarded, silly, childish, and absurd. But that doesn't change the fact that some of the music is super badass.

As I was ordering food through the bartender, the manager made sure to change my name on the ticket to "America hater", which he printed out with a laugh, and handed me his clever creation.

I laughed a bit, but really, I was thinking how much of a soar spot this topic had dredged up for him, even if part of it was a joke.

What I was starting to understand from him, whether partly in jest or not, was the lesson that pride in your country, based on simply being a citizen of the country, is, I'm guessing, quite important. Not really sure why, but it seems to be.

Let me ask you this: Are you proud of your local sports teams when they lose terribly? Are you happy with your favorite band when they finally put out a disappointing album? Are you proud of your child when he gets in trouble at school for showing his "pee pee" to the class?

Pride has its place, but as I see it, should be based upon accomplishment.

I am not pro-America, nor am I anti-America. There are times when I support my country, and times when I don't. And I don't have to agree with everything this giant country does as a collective. It's really pretty silly.

I owe this country nothing (beyond taxes), and it owes me nothing (beyond my tax refund). At no time am I required to like or not like something about it.

What almost scares me about this little, somewhat humorous exchange, is the notion that blatantly subscribing to nationalism via its self-promotional pride-for-the-sake-of-pride songs, is mandatory.

What were those last lines of the anthem again?

Something about home of the brave and land of the... of the... I guess that part does not apply to people with a different opinion eh?

I still stand by my initial opinion. The national anthem is not a good song from a (subjective) musical standpoint and has nothing to do with my political opinions.

What do you think? Does not liking a song about America make me into a terrorist-Nazi-Commy-traitor-socialist? And can I be redeemed if I enjoy America's "Horse With No Name?"


Enjoy reading this blog? Please leave some comments, or I'll cry into a half-eaten ice cream tub for weeks.

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Tags: national anthem america nationalism music politics pride nazi terrorist commy socialist

New DeprecationWear T-Shirt: Prayer

Just in time for my recently published essay on the efficacy of prayer, comes a T-shirt on the... efficacy of prayer. Man, that's a bit too redundant.

Read the essay, wear the shirt. They both contain a dcent amount of awesomeness (I do not say how much awesomeness mind you)

 

 

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The Inefficacy Of Prayer

Prayer is damn near everywhere ( I should have said "god damn". That would have been funnier). It has become second nature, even within our modern culture. From the inauguration ceremony for our nation's presidents, to a softball team before a game, to a get well card informing the sick person that they are in the card-giver's prayers.

It is seen as something positive, helpful, and, by many, extremely essential.

So what is the deal with prayer? Does prayer have a "deal"? And more importantly, do I have an opinion on it?

My title gives the last part away, which makes me think I should re-title this blog, "Prayer: You Won't Believe Niko's Unexpected Opinions!"

But they are expected. I don't like a lot of things, and this is a thing.

Well, what do you say? Should we do some dissection into the concept of prayer?

No?

Whoops, too late.

THAT'S WHY WE PRAY

Before we can throw poop on something, we need to know what it is we are hurling our feces upon (finely compacted as it might be).

So what is prayer?

Prayer is defined as "a solemn request or thanksgiving to God or an object of worship".

A pretty familiar concept for most of us I'd assume. (I can't think of anything funny to say here beyond the word 'trousers'. It's just a funny sounding word).

So why do people pray?

People pray for things they want, and things they don't want. They ask for things to change, and for things to stay exactly the same. They pray for courage, and because of fear. They ask for healing, and they pray for death (literally, people pray for others to die... as in the president. Nice folks, those).

It just so happens that we are generally fearful, needy, lazy creatures, and the idea of asking an almighty being for guidance, assistance, and intervention, in place of dealing with the big, scary world on our own is comforting and relieving, even when we don't get what we want.

If you haven't yet, check out QualiaSoup's excellent video on this subject called "The Superstitious Pigeon". It's very entertaining and has many great points that will poke you in the eyes, as they are decently sharp (but wait until you finish this blog or you'll ruin my flow, and I've been chugging ex-lax all morning).

GO ASK YOUR GUIDES

I did not grow up in a traditional religious household, but to add my own experience to this essay, I had a strange version of prayer instilled into me vicariously through my mother and her metaphysical tofu trappings.

Instead of praying to God, Jesus, Allah, Vishnu, or other gods, I was told on many, many occasions that if I wanted something, had questions about my life, or wanted help dealing with something, that I should ask my "guides".

You heard me.

Supposedly, my "guides" were kind of like guardian angels that would look out for me, and help me out (assuming I asked them, waited, then solved the problem myself).

So there I was as a youngster having conversations with my "guides" on a frequent basis. And when the "guides" were unhelpful, or put me on hold while out to lunch (happened a lot for some reason), I was to ask my "higher self". (Now I know that it's tempting to make some drug jokes with that, but since I do no drugs myself, I'll leave that to you, my stoned, coked-out readers).

My higher self was, I guess, another version of me that was smarter, wiser, perhaps more aware, and maybe (since there really is no clear answer to anything in the entirety of New Age beliefs) lived my life already and therefore could answer my questions about it.

Confused yet?

So am I.

I should ask my guides about my higher self.

THE WINNING PRAYER

Yes, yes. I don't like sports. I should write a blog about that.

But I also find it extra ridiculoid-stupid-ass when professional athletes pray.

And pray they do.

So I'm genuinely curious, why do they pray?

Obviously there are at least two teams involved in any competition (the ones that make money at least), and both sides are likely praying as well. And probably the same god (if statistics can be trusted).

Both teams want to win right? Therefore both teams ask their God for help, so they can overcome the odds in slow-motion to the underscore of Vangellis. Seems pretty cut and dried.

So here's what's bothering me.

Why would He (or It, she, they, he/she) give two shits about a stupid little game that you get to play? A game that affects hardly anyone's lives, involves no life-or-death consequences (except in European football riots), will not add to the greater knowledge or advancement of mankind, and in the grand scheme, is really pretty trivial.

Would a God, a supernatural, magical, transcendent being who has the ability to create consciousness and fiery, nuclear-powered suns care about that?

Apparently, if you ask the athletes (never ask them things, you'll only be disappointed), He gives a strong hovering fuck about them and their specific team.

...Therefore any team.

...Therefore every team.

...And in every sport.

...Throughout time.

But only one team is victorious in the end, which says to me that God likes one sports team over another. So I ask you...

Why would a God pick favorites?

If one side wins (and one usually does), then what does that say about the team that lost? Did they not pray enough? Did they pray the wrong way? Did they pray too much, thereby irritating their temperamental invisi-king? Have they been forsaken? Were they, by chance, just a crappier team?

So many questions.

And if God does favor you to win, as we are lead to "believe", why try at all right? After all, you're the CHOSEN TEAM. You cannot lose. Even if you decide not to show up to the game. Somehow your God will see fit to humiliate the other unfavored shit-hole team (who also prays to that God).

Do these questions bother anyone else?

GOD AND TRIVIAL PURSUIT

Speaking of things that bother me about prayer (say, what a convenient segue), how about the really petty and trivial side of praying? (Indeed, how?)

I understand that many times when people pray, it's for something significant or dramatic. They get sick, and want to feel like they have a way out of it. Or a family member dies, and they want the strength to get through a trying time.

But many people pray for ridiculous and meaningless things. And they do this a lot. (Remember?)

Do you really think that God, the supposed creator of the universe, who is all powerful and all wise, created all life and the underlying psychics that make it work (just go with me here) personally cares about, and wants to help you with:

-winning a video game?
-finding your keys?
-getting through traffic?
-not messing up your lines in a school play?
-getting that email you were waiting for?
-finding a great deal on detergent?
-choosing the home loan that's right for you?
-your dandruff problem?
-getting the goddamn washing machine to work?
-having your DVR not cut off the last few minutes of the season finale of House?
-making the girl at the cash register smile at you?
-being the final bidder for that awesome Betamax machine on eBay?
-your awful smelling vaginal discharge?

"Well, I know I should be designing that new solar system I've been meaning to get to, but I think I should go help Jeff Henderson of Westminster, Colorado on planet Earth get that 50-cents-an-hour pay-raise at Wal-mart he's been so deserving of! Trivial God AWAY!!!!!!"

Stop praying for these things. In fact stop praying. Go do something about it if it matters so much to you.

A PLAN FOR EACH OF US

Another thing, in the slightly more philosophical side of things is how pointless prayer is, in the confines of the typical christianity-based ideological system. Let the contradictions begin! (Spoken in Mortal Kombat voice).

So, God has a plan for you right? I guess he has one for everyone. Most people believe in an omniscient God, meaning everything that is ever going to happen to you is known to this God, or more specifically, also planned out by Him directly (since He interferes in your personal life, so say believers). So if it is predecided what will, and will not happen to you across the entire course of your life, why are you praying for anything at all?

Remember, as stated above, god has already planned everything out. So are you trying to change the creator's mind? God is supposedly unchanging (except for all that stuff in the bible). Are you asking It for things you are not "supposed to have", or things that were not in your cards? How dare you! You're not supposed to question your God, right? The nerve!

If your God is truly all-knowing, then he would have already known that you wanted something and would have factored that into his divine plan beforehand right? After all, he created you.

Does your God not know what you want and need, is that it? Is He not all-knowing after all? Does He simply have a lot on his mind and forgets your little needs from time to time? Does He just need a little reminder?

Then he's not all knowing, again.

Sometimes people say that God already knows what they want, but are just praying to give a boost (of what I don't know. Maybe placebo power). So now God works on a pay-per-prayer system?

The prayers with the most pray-ers gets paid out first, and the ones with not so many hits have to wait to accumulate prayer points? I did not realize God looked favorably on bribes, and numbers. So much for the meek.

"Um... excuse me, sir?" *cough cough* "May I have some food for my family?"

Dear Wretched Poor Person Whom I Love With All My Heart,

Thank you for your continued support in my existence and your desperate prayers for basic survival.

Unfortunately according to my records, I have not received the allotted amount of prayer hits or group percentage points necessary to review your case. Please increase these numbers, submit them to the Cleveland office with the proper prayer forms, and try again.

Sincerely,

Your all-loving benevolent God.

PRAYER STUDIES

I had an argument a while back with my mother, and my dad's wife about the power of prayer. Yes both of them at the same time, long story.

It started that we all had heard that several prayer studies had been conducted, yet we all heard different results. And by "heard" I mean "wanted to believe".

The study in question was one that was even mentioned in The God Delusion. A few years ago, a "study to end all studies" (meaning there will be more studies) was conducted, in which many patients at a hospital who were about to undergo surgery were prayed for by several church congregations.

The patients were divided into three groups. The first was a group that was prayed for (no complications and a fast recovery), and was unaware that anyone was praying for them. The second group was prayed for as well, but told about it. The third group was the control group who were not prayed for at all.

So far, we all agreed on these facts.

But here is where my mother (who still retains much of her New Age beliefs), and my dad's wife (who is probably a liberal, moderate, nice christian), both told me that the study had proved the power of prayer.

Interesting.

Since I had just come off from researching this very thing, I had to step in and correct them. (By the way it's not often that I actually have the facts to back something like this up, it just happened to work out this time).

According to the data, the prayed-for patients and the ones not prayed-for recovered at almost the same rate. Basically, no real differences.

What becomes humorous to me is the remaining group who were prayed-for and told about it. They actually did significantly worse then the others!

It turns out that simply knowing that others were praying for them, in large numbers, made many of them feel guilty and anxiety ridden about the pace of their healing, and thus ended up slowing their recovery process.

It was too much pressure.

Despite having the information right there, my mother and my dad's wife still refused to concede that this study helped to show that prayer was largely ineffective, and probably did not hold the supernatural power they both so wanted to believe in.

Such is the power of belief. All the facts in the world will have little power to sway it, so I've learned (slowly).

WHAT'S THE HARM?

"Okay so prayer is nothing more than a placebo. Fine, fine. So then why make a big deal about nothing?"

This is a position held by many progressive light christians regarding religion. They ignore the fundamentalist portion of their own group, as if they did not exist, and say "even if it is not entirely true, what is the harm?"

All right...

There have been many cases in the last few years of children dying from fully-treatable illnesses, because their parents refused any medical attention. What did these parents do instead? Well, since the theme of this blog is pretty obvious, you know what they did.

They prayed.

A lot.

And the poor neglected children all passed away. One couple from a 2008 case stated that they thought their daughter's body was a spiritual war zone between Jesus Christ and the forces of Hell. Only by refusing "worldly medicine" could their daughter be saved (/dead). And dead she was.

Another terrible case involved a 16 year old boy who suffered inflammation of the urethra, which made him unable to urinate. Again, his parents refused medical attention and substituted the "power of prayer", resulting in the boy dying in one of the most unpleasant ways I could imagine. Basically, his "filled up with urine", and killed his bladder, kidneys and heart.

No thank you, sir.

I'm guessing that even losing their children had no effect on these negligent parents' belief in prayer-only-miracle-cures.

Fucking aggravating, isn't it? (Agree with me)

THE EFFICACY OF PRAYER

Wait. That is the opposite of the title. Is this more of that 'start one way and then throw in a dichotomy thing' again? Not this time pal.

What can be measured or studied about the positive effects of a prayer-like state of mind is that of meditation.

Meditating has been shown (notice my lack of citing evidence) to be good for calming and focusing the mind on problems at hand. It is a healthy way of dealing with stress and Samurai fatigue (that's when a samurai is tired from a long day at the office).

Be that as it may (and it does), this deals purely with the physical aspects of meditation, and has absolutely nothing to do with prayer's supposed supernatural connection in any way. Sorry.

And I know that won't change your mind.

But hey, you don't have to believe me. Go ask your guides about it.

 

 

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Tags: prayer praying religion religious god spiritual placebo social psychology effective study belief believe philosophy newage


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Existentialist Artist and Drunk Evangelist part 2

Please read the first part of this story by clicking HERE. Seriously. It will make a lot more sense if you do. (Not that much of this conversation makes sense).

Last time I talked about the drunk older guy, a self-proclaimed artist and poet who cornered me for some not-so-philosophical conversation at a house party.

And now the exciting conclusion! (No one should miss the terrifying butter scene!!!)

******************************
Continued from part 1...

Moving through thickly detailed topics like The Universe, as if they were snotty tissues, he quickly landed on the topic of chaos.

Chaos. Could be pretty interesting right? Maybe? (I see you're not going with me on this one).

"Humans, man, they have no control, you know? We have no control. Everything just keeps moving and moving"

*He makes circles with his hands again*

Trying to throw him a bone I nodded. "I agree. I don't think anything within the universe has this "control" you speak of. Just actions and reactions".

I actually had no idea what he was talking about anymore. Perhaps I just could not grasp it, or maybe he was just embracing more artistic-sounding vague concepts and spouting them out at me so I would say, "yeah man. Totally. That's so true," then stare into the speakers of the stereo playing some Pink Floyd album on repeat.

He shook his head slightly and replied, "well, I don't think everything is out of control."

*Car tires screeching to a halt* Wait, what? Didn't he just say humans have no control? Did I just hear him wrong?

I had to confirm. "So you think some form of control exists then?" I asked him curiously. Curiously confused.

"Yeah, I do. I think it does."

"Oh? And how does one find this elusive control?" I questioned.

By this time I was far beyond the fact that we had not in any way established what this "control" was in any sort of specifics, but I was still amused by his drunk pontificating, and wanted to egg him on through his pseudo-philosophical rambling.

"Well, my belief is that mankind can get control through Christianity."

And you lost me. If I had not shut down my normal reactions, ideas, and replies enough as it was, now any bullshit philosophical trip I felt like taking with this drunk, non-conformi-poet would be right out, since they would not match the confines of his good ol' Christy Hannity.

And don't forget this guy has muscles, if I say something that blatantly criticizes religion, he may beat the shit out of me. Who knows how religious he is.

"Hmmm." I pondered patronizingly, as if his idea was very intriguing to me. "How so?"

"Well, through belief and faith I can get control." He stated.

I had a feeling something like this would be coming during my humoring of him. Many artists seem to think that being into a bunch of airy-fairy spirituality makes them really fascinating and intriguing.

Guess how I know that? C'mon guess. Yep. Used to be into it too. Well, not christianity, but the airy-fairy new age bullshit. Boy I sure was interesting being all vaguely spiritual. I feel depressed just thinking about that.

Digression. Back from commercial.

I continued my restating of his contradiction. "So you feel that, though mankind has no control, there actually is control, as you say, through the means of Christianity, via the "tools" of belief and faith? Is that correct?"

"Yeah." He said almost confidently.

I decided to test that theory with a simple question.

"So do you feel that you have more control in your life because of your faith and belief?"

"Well, me? No. I don't have more control."

Whu whu WHA? *spit take*

"Wait, I thought you said that faith and belief through Christianity gives you control?"

"No, that's not what I said..."

Sorry, I took your words out of context, didn't I? Nope, I did not.

With a pleasant smile that was concealing a pent-up laugh, I 'humbly' backed down.

"All right, sorry. Tell me then."

He proceeded to slowly amble through some spontaneous back peddling.

"Well I think that people can get more control of their own lives, not everything else..."

I jumped on his sentence. "Sure, sure. That's what I figured you meant."

He nodded and tried to finish his thought. "...yeah, well, that's what I believe, that through faith..."

I jumped on his line again. "That you have more personal control over you own life right?"

"Well no, not for me though..."

ARRGGG!! What the hell do you mean man! Either faith and belief gives you control over your life, or they work but you personally have no faith or belief, or they do not work at all. What is it guy?!

Yes I was a bit irritated by this, but not so much that I couldn't also find it wonderfully amusing.

Overhearing the word 'Christianity' a young man, dressed in loose-fitting, slightly hip hop attire, and slam-hammered-drunk, came stumbling over to join the rousing chorus.

"Are you guys talking about Christianity?"

The older guy looked annoyed at having someone else break his 'deep' artist to artist connection, as we really had something special going.

"Well, not exactly..." He started.

I decided to jump in again and try to derail any conversations dealing with religion before they started. After all, it was the word 'christianity' which brought this gentleman over in the first place, and my evangelical radar was lighting up like a flaming pagan solstice icon (I mean Christmas tree).

"We're talking about all kinds of things. Art, life, existence..." I said, playing nice, as if I was really enjoying the dialog. (Well, I actually kinda was, but for different reasons).

He looked at me a bit confused, trying desperately to find his place to jump into the discussion and begin preaching. "And you said you did not believe in god, or.... what?. . "

I really did not feel like spending this kind of energy on this topic, so I avoided saying anything about myself and what I really think, by directing the attention back to the tan, white-haired gentleman (he's hard to miss).

"He was simply telling me what he believed and I was simply asking him why." That seemed soft enough, didn't it?

The youngin' looked to be gathering his wits about him. Uh oh. He wanted to do battle, didn't he? Crap. I did not feel like dealing with this right now. The easy-going conversation on non-conformity and arty things was just fine (and quite amusing to me), but now I'm about to get sold a subscription to something. I just know it.

"Well, like. . .do you , I mean, do you think that you've. . .sinned, like in your life?"

Ah HA! I knew it! So you're going to do this tactic are you? Well, friends, have you heard this one before? He's going to ask if I have ever stolen anything, lied, cheated and such to make me feel that I am a guilty "sinner" in need of redemption. Yes, heard it before.

So how to handle this?

At this point I could just go into full-on argument mode where I whip out all the goods from errors in scripture, to the weird illogical loophole of God sacrificing himself to himself to appease himself, to philosophical arguments and logic with Occam's razor. After all, I read and research this stuff all the time, and this would be my first real discussion now that I have some knowledge on my side. Could be a great opportunity right?

But no. Were I to take the attack path, I would likely spend the rest of the party vilified as the 'evil' atheist (since I doubt they would know what atheism really means), and it would make the rest of the night uncomfortable and unpleasant for me.

In other words, to attack him would make for a poor situation in the long run for me selfishly.

Plus it would not even be worth it, as the guy was really, and I mean REALLY drunk, and would never remember any of my points, nor would he likely be able to continue a good topic if we got one started.

Damn you alcohol!!

So I decided to avoid the skeptic, atheist, anti-theist route and just try and disarm his pre-planned thought train.

I thought for a second about something I could say without coming off as too 'atheist'.

"I don't believe in the concept of sin." I said calmly.

Which seemed to work wonderfully, as he was not prepared for that answer.

You see, the technique he was going to use on me relies heavily on pre-planned steps, and anticipated responses from their "victims". If you can get them off of the track they try to stick you on, you can sometimes make it through the gauntlet unscathed.

He stood, unsure of what to say. "Well, I mean. .. oh. . . but. . . uh. . . I mean. . . ok, ok. . . like you've done wrong, something bad, right?"

"Of course." I said with a smugness that only Calvin could replicate.

"So. . .ok. . .so you don't think that like. . . that would be like a sin?"

"I suppose if I gave the concept of sin any validity whatsoever, you could call it that. But I don't. It's all so subjective."

He quickly tried (though his reactions were slowed) to get me back to where he could make me feel guilty for being a human, therefore instilling the need to ask for forgiveness from... I forgot his name. Some guy. Was it W.C. Fields? I like him.

"Well, but. . .you have done wrong, so does that not make you a bad person?"

"Nope." I think I was supposed to say yes here. This is fun.

"uh. . .wha? . ..um how, how come?" He obviously did not see that coming, which just made me smile.

I did my best to explain my position, still trying to appear as spiritually ambiguous as possible.

"Because I usually know when I've done wrong, through my own interpretations of my feelings and the situation at hand, and I choose, more often then not, to make the situation better, and resolve it with those I've done wrong to, on a direct and individual basis."

He paused to think about that. My aim was to use a lot of words and phrases that purposefully made my statement lean to a strong secular-humanistic approach regarding morality, as opposed to a spiritual one, just in case he had some stronger arguments about that, or wanted to use some of my own word choices against me.

"But just 'cause you ...resolve stuff with someone, does it now make that right?"

"Yep."

Again, he was not expecting that answer. This was actually really enjoyable, even though he was drunk. It was like a much more dull version of a Dan Brown novel, "Breaking The Christian Guilt Code".

Keep 'em comin' buddy!

He continued to press me in hopes that he would regain his rehearsed foothold. "...but...I mean...how?"

"Because I've taken responsibility for my own actions, then directly worked to make that situation right with the very person, or people that were involved in the subjective wrong doing in the first place. I've learned from a mistake, and corrected a negative action with a positive one."

This ended his guilt-trip and moral-break-down approach, and he then moved into a stranger, miracle-based approach, still in the conversational, pre-supposed-question-form that he had begun earlier.

See if these win you over.

"If you saw someone actually walk on water," (which he acted out), "wouldn't you be pretty amazed?"

Sure, but I'd first be skeptical and see if there were any natural explanations for the events in question. All I ever want to ask him was "how do you know that actually happened?" And, "even if he did walk on water, how does that prove he is God?" I didn't of course. I just smiled and nodded.

How about the ever popular, jesus went through a lot of pain, therefore the entire story must be true argument?

"Just imagine that all his friends helped to get him there, you know, crucified, and he was betrayed, can you imagine that?"

Yep. Can. Pretty Neat. Totally convinced. Good one.

For being drunk he was pretty tenacious, I'll give him that. Were he sober, he might give me a bit of a challenge. But this was fine for now.

At this point the girl I knew at the party came outside just in time to hear the word 'Jesus', and, being someone who is not a fan of religion herself, yet not well-versed in any serious arguments or information yet, looked at me with a knowing smile and tried to interrupt my drunk preaching friend.

My eyes darted over to her with a look of anger and caution. I knew exactly what was going on in her mind. She knew I was a strong atheist, and was reading a lot about this subject matter, and wanted me to basically "rip him a new one" for her.

So I quickly leaned in towards her and whispered, "don't say a thing. Let him talk."

She looked confused, but ended up saying nothing. (That was close).

Later I informed her that you need to pick your battles, and a drunk older guy who is a self-proclaimed non-conformist artist and poet with hybrid newage-christian leanings, and a ridiculously-smashed young kid barely making sense about Jesus is not the battle to fight. Not even worth it. I would rather have people not hate me the rest of the night, thank you very much.

Soon after I shushed my friend who seemed hell bent on getting everyone upset with me, another young girl, who was friends with my christian beer buddy, came out and began to lecture the young gentlemen after she heard him trying to preach to me.

"How can you tell this guy [me] about how to act if you can't even do it yourself!?" She prodded.

He tried to defend himself against her. "Well, nobody's perfect. I try to do my best to act right, and yeah, I don't always do it. But if I tried to I would be a hypocrite, you know?"

"You haven't changed at all! You're still doing all the things you used to do!!" She accused.

I had no idea what he used to be like, or what he is like now, but I had a lot of trouble suppressing my laughter at this newly developing drama.

"Yeah, but that's who I am. I can still talk about how to be right with Jesus, without doing everything right all the time! It's what's in my heart that counts!"

Say, isn't that actually an argument in my favor?

With that I walked back into the house, seeing my opportunity to dodge the rest of his preaching.

All I could think of afterwards was how interesting it was to me that I had two very memorable encounters with random people, back to back, in the same night. I guess I just get lucky sometimes (in an ironic sort of way).

Though I know I would have likely not have gotten the conversation I wanted out of either of these two strange and funny characters, I can still take away from it a constant fascination, surprise and humor of how ridiculous and deluded we all can be. How some of us never grow out of our teen years, and some of us never take the chance to critically examine ourselves and our own beliefs.

We don't always get what we want, but sometimes what we get is way more worthwhile. You just have to know how to appreciate it. (Which I don't).



Enjoy reading this blog? Please favorite, rate or bookmark this page, and most of all comment with your personal stories, observations, or violent objections.

Visit the all new DeprecationWear online store! Sarcastic, self-deprecating and elitist merchandise. Click HERE to see my wares!


Tags: art artist philosophy psychology party sarcasm humor funny atheist atheism christianity religion spirituality drunk


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