Just Words

So, the commenter is up on full steam now but it seems that some people still aren't sure if they can post more than 1000 characters. Well, I guess everyone's just going to have to discover it for themselves. Meanwhile, back at the ranch. I had an incredibly shitty day at work today. No details worth cluttering this space with. Just something about my mood.

Yesterday I went to Liquidation World. One of these places where you can buy all the stuff that no one else would buy in a real store so you can get it for supercheap. I saw little cans of "Jolt espresso - coffee-cola flavour drink" for 83 cents a piece. So I bought 6 of them just in case I liked them. I ended up drinking all 6 of them in about 2 hours. I then spent the next five hours in a nauseated haze while keeping a clear route to the bathroom at all times. Considering they have 120 mg of caffeine per 250 mL serving I kind of expected more. For anyone who ever wondered, this is why I don't do drugs.

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Arklahomboy has commented on my same-sex marriage rant from two weeks ago (I know, I meant to get to this sooner). Now, before you go charging off to his site with an attitude and no place to put it just read the comment. It's polite and meaningful and actually brings up another topic entirely. Homogeneity.

Just to throw everyone off course a little, I'm going to talk about the 4th Dune novel, God Emperor of Dune. What I like most about the Dune novels is that, while the plots are very exciting, the environment for each book makes an individual point. And, most important for any successful series, each novel makes a separate point. In the 4th book, there is a god-like creature who has lived for several thousand years controlling all the planets in the known universe. He has taken away all weapons and mechanical transportation from the people. He has also limited interplanetary travel to basic functions only. He said that peace was essential and to make the people peaceful he had to take away many of their freedoms. He changed everyone into rural, stale and god-fearing people. He made them homogeneous.

Take into account the fact that this novel was published in 1981. Could Frank Herbert have seen something then that made him believe it was possible for society to turn out this way? Logically, it is easier to lead a nation of people if they all have the same standpoint on moral values. The more fractured and divided a society is the more open-minded and forgiving they have to be of other people's views. In order to have peace with their neighbours each person will have to understand that everyone in the world doesn't think or act like them. And not everyone considers the same things to be "wrong".

I find it most interesting that it's not just the government that has been putting pressure on people to be homogeneous. People will try to convert you to their religion or try to get you to feel the same way they do on some political issue. This is wrong. But it must be kept in mind that voicing your own opinion is not wrong. There's a very fine line there and it's difficult not to cross when you feel strongly about something. Conversely, it's difficult to not feel threatened by someone who has a strong political view. When a person shows a lot of confidence in their opinion it can seem a bit overbearing. And to a person who is, perhaps, not as confident in what they know it can have a powerful effect.

What's the compromise here? The key is to inform, not sway or persuade. Everyone should have the same information and judge something for themselves from their own perspective. It's perfectly okay to have a different opinion as long as it's an opinion formed from knowledge rather than a lack of it. We are on the verge of something very big here. Can humans live together without having exactly the same moral boundaries? Without worshipping the same god? We don't know yet. But we've never been closer to finding out than right now.

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I'm back. And not just for intermittent posts about my mediocre internet experience, either. This time I'm back permanently on a temporary basis. I haven't switched to Linux yet but the wheels are in motion. For now I'm running XP SP 2 Beta. The firewall seems pretty solid so hopefully this will be much better. Something that you can't tell from where you're sitting is that I'm running Netscape 7.2 now instead of IE. Seems like a minor change but hopefully it makes a difference. After all, the definition of insanity is to do the same thing repeatedly and expect different results. But then again, what does "the same thing" mean exactly. I mean, I'm back on the internet, aren't I? Isn't that technically the same thing as what I was doing before all this de-railed me?

Another thing you can't tell from where you are is that my whole house is now rearranged because Kristy's little sister Shannon is moving in tomorrow. The extra room I once had to store (ignore) all my nifty little electronic projects is now gone. It's good though because it's forced me to throw out a bunch of stuff I was likely never going to find time for anyways. And here's a quick FAQ about Shannon because I'm sick of everyone always asking me the same questions as soon as I mention that she's moving in.

How old is she? -21.

Is she cute? -Yes. Very.

Is she single? -No, and the details are not mine to tell.

Are you sure you're okay with a cute 21 year old who may be no longer single at any moment moving in with you for the next 4 months? -For the last time, yes. I'm fine. Everyone else has wilder ideas about the "possibilities" here than I do. Now cut it out.

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This is a response to Dustin's comments from the previous post. Please don't take any of this the wrong way, Dustin. I totally respect your opinion. Mine just appears to differ slightly.

The internet should be for everybody to enjoy, that's why its creators have tried to keep it as free as possible all these years. Should my mom be forced to live in reckless hermitude because she's not savvy enough to keep apace of the latest Adaware-Spybot-Antivirus-Porndialer? I'd rather the internet be free and safe. Is it not possible to have both? Wouldn't it be nice to live in a neighbourhood without having bars on your windows? Where you don't have to lock the children inside because the playgrounds are dangerous? The internet should be a virtual reflection of the real world. Your conduct in one place should have a conjugate in the other. If people don't believe in randomly entering other people's homes and snooping through their stuff then what makes people think it's okay on the internet? People should keep their doors locked but other people should also not be trying to break in. And door manufacturers should make doors that will stand up to at least the most moderate attack. Having viruses and spyware and back-door trojans roam freely on the internet is akin to having people randomly throw rocks into the windows of houses as they walk down the street. It can be argued that spyware is coming from larger businesses and not from random hackers but it still doesn't make it right. It may be a big, bad, dangerous world but when you see someone getting beat down in the street just for walking at a certain place and time do you think to yourself "dumbfuck deserved it because this is downtown after 10 o'clock"? Or do you think "what a bunch of punks"?

For me, my PC isn't really like my home. My mind is my home and my PC is my outlet to the world. It's like all my five senses combined with my voice for feedback. I'll do what I can to protect my own right to freedom. But I also think that access to the internet should be a universal right, not a luxury that only the technically superior deserve. Before the internet, computer networking was for the clever people only. And the people who weren't clever felt inferior so they called the clever people geeks and nerds. But now the geeks and nerds have worked together like little doozers (anyone remember Fraggle Rock?) to build something potentially beautiful. Only to have a bunch of other geeks and nerds threaten it with senselessly malicious code. It's like vandalism. Nobody gains anything. One can only wonder what's in the minds of the vandals.

And hell, I wouldn't even care about spyware if all it did was spy on me. If anyone wants to know what porn sites I visit all they have to do is ask and I'll send them a copy of my History folder. I'd make the most boring stalking victim ever. It's almost flattering to think that someone in the world cares enough to spy on me.

ps - Dustin, just for you and your great (not to mention enthusiastic) comments I'm going to take the plunge and donate to Haloscan to break past the 1000 character limit. Expect this within the next week.

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I spent all last night cleaning viruses off my home PC. Here's the details.

Total number of files scanned: 95,474 (Do I really have this many files?)

Viruses Found: 3403 (This is a record for me. Can anyone beat it?)

Files Cleaned: 2948 (86.6%. Frankly, I expected more from Symantec Corporate.)

Files Quarantined: 451

Elapsed Time: 278:13

Infected files left untouched after more than 4 and a half hours of scanning: 4

Most of the infected files were from one worm virus that spread very rapidly yesterday morning shortly after my foray into Linux. There were a few back-door files though which could have been how this whole thing started. When I was online my connection would bog right down and the Send/Receive lights on my cable modem would be lit up like a Christmas display when I wasn't doing anything at all. I suspect that something was trying to use my PC for some unknown purpose. I just wish I knew what the hell was being sent/received that could bog everything down like that.

But something's still messing with XP. I can't find my copy of Windows XP for repair either. Of course, if Windows didn't have so many security flaws in general this would never have happened. Not that I can't shoulder any blame here. After all, I could have switched to Linux sooner.

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I got my first taste of Linux this morning. First impression: Windows 3.1 but much, much, much better. Very old school. I think I will like it a lot once I'm using it full-time. And now, here's a little bit I wrote about Microsoft. Enjoy. Oh yeah, and I found the time yesterday to write up a new post for the Science and Tech blog called Butterfly Effect. Go check it out.

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Hello, we're the Microsoft home finishing, renovation and security specialists. We're going to put the finishing touches on your house and make it livable. We will charge a fortune and our service will come pre-packaged with all kinds of extras you won't necessarily want or need. We're also going to install a security system to keep out any troublemakers. How does it work? Well I'm glad you asked. Sit right down there and let me tell you.

First we're going to wire up everything. We'll bug all the doors and windows and rig the whole thing up so there's never going to be any need for worry. Then we'll doubly re-assure you so that you let your guard down. Now pay attention because this next part is very important. The windows of your house will open from both the inside and the outside but they will only be large enough to fit small children and reptiles through so there's no worry there. All the doors will have locks except for the back door. Instead, we will string security alarm wires to it but not connect them. That way if we find that there is anything we forgot we can just come back sometime when you're not busy (i.e. not home) and fix it without you ever having to know about it. Yes, that's quite common. In order to keep costs down it's easier to finish as fast as possible with only a few mistakes which we can easily correct at some future date. What's that? You're worried about your back door not being locked? Oh don't worry about that. No one's going to go back there unless they're a thief.

You'd like to see a quote from our competitor? Well, our competitor is free or at the very most a quarter of our price but they don't have a team of professional technicians ready to give you useless advice when your system crashes. Look where your money is going. Yes, I realize that our executives are the highest paid in the world and that even after paying their salaries we are making more than a billion dollars in profit each month but we still believe that our service is essential to the future dysfunction of this industry so you needn't bother switching.

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I haven't posted all weekend because I am experiencing technical difficulties. Dustin, I may be calling you soon for your Linux technical expertise. Windows must die.

Please stand by.

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Warning: This post is going to be a little vulgar because that's the kind of mood I'm in. We can't plan for this stuff. It just happens.

Now, to answer the most important question about the whole thing. Why am I so angry about this? Because I want to be judged by the quality of my brain instead of my dick. I've worked very hard on my brain and I want it to be appreciated. Not just by the women I date but also by women I don't date. I want a woman I have no chance with in this world to at least make that judgment after she's heard me speak. I hate the thought that it might just be about my body. Yes, I know. I'm coming up on the Big Double Standard here. But whatever. Women don't like it but they're doing it too.

I value my brain ahead of my dick. I hate guys that think the other way around. Guys that try to judge each other on the size of their dicks. Each one trying to show each of the other ones why his dick is better. Guys who try to judge each other on how many times they've been laid or by whom. These are the same guys who think that the only way they can relate to women is with their dicks.

So for any ladies who have ever complained about men behaving this way or felt disgusted that a guy could think like this, I want you to think about the fact that you (or someone you know) might actually be unknowingly encouraging it. If there's any women out there who wonder why guys want to bed them as fast as possible before getting to know them, this might be a contributing factor. Why should a guy talk at all if the woman's already made up her mind? Better to see which way the woman is leaning first before you get your heart all in a knot about it. Maybe some guys have it figured out. I know I don't.

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Okay. I want to re-hash this thing. This is an addendum to the previous post.

I define the word chicks (in the derogatory connotation) as being females who have little or no identity themselves and therefore borrow the identity of other people, typically their boyfriends. When a group of chicks get together they will tend to talk (brag) about whatever it is that their boyfriends are up to. They absorb the identity of whoever they're hanging out with because that's the only way they can have an identity. This seems a little harsh, but take a look around.

Raise your hand if you've ever seen a girl "go goth" when she starts dating (or merely liking) a goth guy. How many people have seen a girl drastically change their style of music (occasionally even suddenly liking a band like Marilyn Manson that they had previously thought was the devil's work) when they started liking a new guy who happened to listen to that band as well? How many of these girls changed back when they were no longer dating that particular guy?

There's been a lot of talk in the comments about what I described happening with the roles reversed but this stuff rarely ever happens the opposite way. Rarely ever will you see some guy start wearing Jewel concert shirts (if such a thing even exists) when he starts dating some woman who likes Jewel. Hardly ever will it happen that a preppie guy will dress in gothic to impress a woman. Guys will do a lot of other things to impress women but they don't tend do that. Don't see how these two things relate? Relax. I'm about to tell you.

These chicks had made up their minds about whatever guy it was at the time (and these are just a few examples, I'm sure if you look you can find many more) before the guy ever said anything. The fact that he happened to be very interested in something was just extra. Chicks make up their mind and unless the guy strongly dissuades them (I've had to do this once or twice and they tend to get very angry and resentful) they start doing whatever it takes to make that match work. They compromise themselves and their own images. The reasons for this are numerous and so deep-rooted in our society that I care not to recall them here. The fact is that they looked, made up their minds, and made the whole thing up before they even talked to they guy in question.

In the situations I described yesterday, the women I was talking about were making up their minds about me before I had even opened my mouth. Some had decided that I was impressive to them and unless I severely screwed up then they were going to have me. If I was a Pulitzer Prize winner then that would be just a bonus. In other situations, women had looked at me and decided that I wasn't altogether that impressive and that nothing was going to happen between us, again, before I even opened my mouth. In these situations they would labour through the conversation, trying to be polite, laughing at the correct moments. Not being necessarily in a hurry to leave but certainly not changing their opinion of me based on what I was talking about.

Now, one may wonder why I should be so down on women who are acting of their own free will and perhaps being what appears to be assertive. Chick behaviour is not assertion. If these women were really assertive they would have chosen their own identities (and music, and lifestyles) in the first place instead of trying to absorb them from others. If a woman is going to like a guy for being intelligent and/or witty then she should at least find out that he's intelligent and/or witty before she decides that she likes him.

I'm going to post this now. I have one more section to put up before I'm done on this issue.

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Guys. Have you ever noticed that women only seem to truly listen to what you have to say when they're attracted to you? And when they get to a point where they're no longer attracted to you (or they merely realize that nothing's going to happen between you) they don't pay as much attention to what you say anymore? I can't stress enough that this is only in real life (IRL™) situations, not on the dreamernet. Have you ever been in a situation where no matter how funny or witty you were the girl you were trying to impress just walks away like you made no impression at all? Or have you ever found that there was some girl who couldn't get over how insanely clever you were even though you were pretty sure you were having an off day? I have been in all these situations. And I think I might know what's going on.

Hypothesis: In real life (IRL™) situations (again, not on the internet) women have been listening/paying attention to only the men they find attractive and/or think they have a chance with.

I have observed that the women who really paid attention to what I was saying (that is, enough to understand it and regurgitate it on demand) were also the women that I ended up having some kind of sexual or romantic contact with. And after the "contact" was over and done with they pretty much stopped listening/paying attention unless there was more to be had. This sounds like a spoof on men doing the same thing to women but I assure you, it's not.

I have also observed that the female friends who I happened to have had casual sex with (or ex's that I still talk to) have been far more likely to want to keep in touch with me over the years as opposed to female friends that I didn't sleep with. The ones I didn't sleep with have been more likely to brush me off in the supermarket and not call back when I call out of the blue. The ones who weren't interested in me sexually could probably tell you that I'm smart but would be far less likely to know what makes me smart.

I like to think of myself as an intelligent person with something to say (occasionally). And if I happen to be talking to a female I'd like to think that what I'm saying is being taken seriously not just being shrugged at and given lip service to. Do I have to sleep with every woman I know (or at least lead them on to think that I'll sleep with them) before they listen to me as a person?

I happen to know that most women are at least reasonably intelligent. They think differently than men and they do things differently but they are, on average, just as intelligent as men. My mom and my sisters get props for drilling this into my head (and that includes you, Kisa). When a guy is talking to girl about something and she's (obviously) just nodding and saying mm-hm at the appropriate intervals it makes it look like the girl doesn't understand what the guy is talking about. And she might not understand but it has nothing to do with her intellect. It has to do with her interest.

What kind of women are guys most often trying to impress? Easy, right? Attractive women. But attractive women are like anybody in this world. They want to get the best guy they can. They tend to raise their standards higher than other women. Therefore, by this theory that I've laid out above, they tend to tune out and not listen to the majority of men, making these attractive women look like they don't understand what's being said. This, I think, leads to a lot of attractive women getting cast in the stereotype of being none too bright. The other question is that if attractive women are really ignorant of what most people are telling them are they making themselves less intelligent?

Let's try to stay objective. Could this possibly be true? I'm just one observer. I only have my own point of view. And is the same thing happening on the other side of the coin? Am I tuning out women I'm not attracted to? I don't think so but it might be better to get a second opinion on that too. But if it is true the implications are staggering. How many times have I been at a party and some dumb-but-attractive guy is getting his every word tripped over like it should be written on gold sheafs? How is that supposed to make me feel? And somehow even worse, how does it make me feel to know that the only reason any women were listening to me in the first place had little or nothing to do with my brain? And does anybody out there have any idea how many different women asked me if we could "just be friends"? This makes my head spin as I try to re-analyze every failed romantic overture I've ever made all at once. It must be true that there are no truly platonic friendships between men and women. Every interaction between them must either lead to the bedroom or drift them apart as one neglects the other.

Or maybe I'm on crack. It could go either way.

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I totally had something to say tonight. I was pumped up about it all day, working myself into a frenzy to just blurt it all over the screen as soon as I got home. But work lasted longer than I expected and my bike fell apart on the way home and needed to be fixed. My house is way too hot to even consider doing anything energetic in, especially after eating two large plates of spaghetti. So I'm just going to get the main points down in notepad so that I don't forget and you'll all just have to wait for tomorrow.

I will tell you that it has to do with male-female relationships and I'm somehow going to work in something about why most people think that attractive women are stupid.
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I'm going to tell you all about my wonderful links. The most important ones to me are the blogs so I'll do those last. In my sidebar (as of Aug 15, 2004) I have "Useful Links". Somehow the title has magically transformed itself into a rather useful link to my Haloscan commenting service. Everytime I look at my template I try to figure out how this has happened. If anyone out there knows HTML and can view the source code on my blog then maybe they could explain?

Google Search is obvious. Ice Rocket is a new search engine that found my blog right away when searching with only my name (something Google has yet to do) and I was so happy that I immediately linked to it. I have yet to use it for anything else, however. I have an Urban Legends link here because I hate it when people insist that stuff they read on the internet is true when it absolutely cannot be (like a duck's quack not echoing). Gmail is a link to the place where the gifted few who have Gmail can access their accounts. This is probably the biggest reason why my roommate Kristy visits my blog. Wikipedia is a very large online encyclopedia. It's most useful function is the fact that each entry is a separate page so you can link to a specific entry, unlike Dictionary.com where you'll need to type in (and spell correctly) the word you want each time. Google Information for Webmasters is an article on how to make Google find your website on its search engine. And I placed a link to Blogger here because my "I Power Blogger" logo-link is at the bottom of my page and I'm lazy.

I like to change up my Random Links section quite often so I won't say much about it. Origins of Dune is an essay written by Frank Herbert about the symbolism and the intent of Dune (my favourite novel of all time). The Online Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is a Real-Life version of the fictitious HHGTTG. Seemingly random search entries typically produce hilarious results. Here is the article on Arizona.

I currently have a separate section for the Scientific Inquiry blog. It's new and very much different from my other links because it's the only other place that I have editorial input (comments don't count). Patrick started it but he's been very busy with the new gerbil and Chloe and everything and as a result it was pretty lame. So now I'm going to be shunting my more strictly scientific thoughts over there thus leaving this space for more personal expression. I won't be updating there as much as here but go over there anyways. I'll try to keep it as interesting and relevant as possible.

Blogs of people I know. I make this distinction because I don't want there to be any confusion about who my real life friends are and who my online friends are. Not that it would be impossible to cross that line but it would be very rare. Ken updates his blog about once a week only but his expression is fantastic. Tracy (I finally linked you and sorry it took so long) lives with Ken and they have a newborn baby girl, Celia, together. I have yet to find a spelling mistake anywhere on Tracy's blog. Melanie is my sister. I don't know what else to say about her other than that she sometimes goes by her middle name Rachel. Bluego = Patrick. There is nothing I could say about Patrick that he couldn't more adequately say about himself. Dustin puts very abstract thoughts on his blog but they are all true expressions of the way he feels. He prefers music to words so I think that's why he keeps his words clipped and indistinct. Thomson is the guy I would be with if I were a woman. He drinks a lot and he takes pills but he's the most genuinely good person I know. Krista is a woman that I graduated with but never knew in high school. We met recently at our 10-year reuinon. Nearly every interaction we've had since then is on one of our blogs.

Blogs of people I don't know. Notes From Above the Ground is currently called Nausea Above the Garage. It is written by a very talented person using the peudonym Gregor Samsa. He typically writes about his misfortunes in love but the real feature is how he writes. The metaphors he uses hit me like a concussion. I usually don't even know what's happening until it's all over. Car Alarms Are Really Sensitive is maintained by Julia Shih (as far as I can tell this is her real name). She switches from incredibly funny to introspectively personal in seconds. She seems very in tune with who she is as a person and where she wants to go with her life. Don't feel wierded out by this Julia, but if I lived in LA I would definitely want to date you. Life Through The Eyes Of Me is run by a random from Ottawa who (as far as I can tell) doesn't read this blog. He finds the coolest links to seemingly everything. I don't have time to surf for these kinds of things so I'm very thankful that he finds them for me. Arklahomboy is a person that I had a political war of words with about a month ago. As a recogniton of our truce we placed links to each other's blogs on our sites. His political view is so extreme you'd almost think he was making it up. But he's not.

At the bottom of the sidebar is a new section of links. Don't follow any of these links. They're only for me.

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Went to a party last night with Kristy. We didn't get there until about 11:30 because Kristy had to work late. It was at an expensive house on the beach in Vernon. They had an entire band setup there with microphones and a mixing board but, presumably, none of the regular musicians were there. People just played mp3's from the PC and sang over the existing words in a welfare version of karaoke.

Met a lot of cool people there. The whole night I had this vague idea that I had met everyone many years ago and that they merely didn't recognize me. Everybody had a slight familiarity to them. I get this feeling once in a while when I'm about to meet people that I will eventually come to know quite well. There was one person there that I wasn't looking forward to seeing. Luckily, she seemed just as eager to avoid having to speak to me as I was to her. There was nothing good that could have come from an exchange of words between us. And it's better that she be left behind.

Got to sleep around 4:30 AM. It was a backyard sleepover party so I ended up crashing on this couch-swing in the backyard next to an artificial pond with a trickling waterfall. Had a beautiful view looking up at the stars as I was drifting off. And then I was woken up at 7:30 with the sun rising directly into me. So, aside from the lack of sleep, I feel terrific about the whole escapade.

This morning I found myself unexpectedly needing to kill a day in Vernon due to a miscommunication about when Kristy will be heading back to Kelowna. Breakfast. Coffee with Chloe & Patrick. A random encounter or two with people I hadn't seen in more than 6 months. And I decided to do something that I probably shouldn't have.

~~~Switching to first person mode~~~ (This is a fancy way of saying that I wrote the next bit first in a separate tense and now I can't imagine changing either part to match them up.)

I dial the number and push the phone to my ear in one motion. I'm not in a hurry. Why does it feel like I want to get this moment over with as fast as possible? Random emotions spew into my chest. Confusion. Anger. Helplessness. Concern. My breath catches a little and I have to consciously continue to breathe. My heart is racing faster than the situation really requires. Why am I so nervous? She's the one who's been avoiding me.

The ring sounds one and a half times before she picks up.

"Hello?"

"Hello."

I feel proud that none of the unsteadiness in my lungs shows in my voice. No cracks. No catches. Just like a steady even breathing. Just like nothing in the world could be wrong.

"Oh. How are you?"

"I'm fine. How are you?"

"Actually, could I call you back in about an hour?"

"Sure."

"Bye."

"Bye."

I know that if she calls back at all it will be a lot longer than an hour. Maybe a day or even a week. But I have to leave her an out. After all, I did call her unannounced. And I was probably the last person she thought would call her today. She needs time to get her bearings in her head (and possibly in her life, I don't know) before she talks to me. I can accept that. I will give her however much time she needs. Real friendships don't come with ultimatums or expiry dates. And she's been a real enough friend that I would give her a lifetime.

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Would somebody please explain the whole gay marriage problem to me. Maybe I'm slow, I don't know. I just don't get it. What exactly does a statement like "battle to preserve traditional marriage" mean? How exactly is "traditional marriage" threatened by allowing same-sex couples to be married? I'm not married and I never have been, but I'm pretty sure that gay people getting married isn't going to affect who I marry or what the wedding looks like. Or, for that matter, the way I will (hopefully, eventually) feel about my wife or the time we'll (again, hopefully) spend together.

If any particular religion feels that same-sex marriages are contrary to their doctrine then the gay people who belong to that sect, church, or faction have a moral obligation only to that faith to abstain from participating in such ceremonies. And, for that matter, the only thing stopping them should be their faith. The same way that the Pope can declare condoms to be bad news and expect all Catholics the world over to dutifully go in unsheathed. A church has the authority to deny same-sex marriages within its jurisdiction only, which pretty much ends at the fence-line.

It doesn't matter whether or not the majority of people feel uncomfortable with it. Very few people practice witchcraft. And if everyone got to vote on whether or not it should be illegal it probably would be. But the fact is that as long as wiccans (witchcraftspeople) don't harm anybody or break any other laws during the course of their activities then those activities are perfectly legal. Yes, we (we as in "we in Canada and the USA") live in a democratic society. But we also live in a free society. This means that everybody should have freedom to do as they please as long as those freedoms don't remove or diminish the freedoms of anyone else. It would be difficult to prove that same-sex marriages diminish the freedom for straight couples to express their intent to never separate. But it's pretty easy to see that limiting the definition of marriage to "a union between one man and one woman" will severely diminish the freedom for same-sex couples to do the same.

I'm not entirely certain how allowing same-sex couples to get married would encourage polygamy. But I do think that allowing gay people to marry would encourage monogamy in the gay community. In this world where AIDS is not going away we could use a little more monogamy. Everywhere. Not just in same-sex relationships but also in same-sex relationships.

But let's get to the heart of this thing, shall we? This is about homophobia. Clothe it in religion all you want but it won't really change it. I'm a straight white male. I know all about not being a minority. Seeing two men kiss at a party was strange at first but I got over it. You realise that gay people are just people. Just like anybody else. If I'm going to be a straight guy kissing women at parties then I can expect gay people to be kissing each other there too.

Stopping same-sex couples from marrying will not stop them from loving each other. It will not stop them from feeling the way they do about each other. It will not change the world in a positive manner. It will allow the straight white male population to feel a lot better about itself but that's only because of the insecurity the straight white male population is immersed in. Denying same-sex marriages is a selfish use of power and that's the worst kind.

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I soak inside my sweaty self. Music traces a path along the outside of my bubble. I analyse its shape and timing and compare it to songs I've heard before. Recognition douses my anxiety in gasoline and holds up a match. I hold my breath waiting for the chorus. The music slides away before any damage can be done. Escaped again.

It's dark in here. I've found that lights distract me from my purpose. They interrupt the visions in my head. The memories that force themselves to the forefront. My damage centers try to distort them and remember my past differently. Forget. Evade. Ignore. When was the last time I felt anything? I know the answer to that. It was also the last time I felt pain.

These days I only come out for air in the dead of night. Anyone who might be around to see has their own things to hide and they don't want to get close. Is this why I'm uncomfortable around pushy people? Salespeople. Selling themselves. Selling their ideas. People who have incredible vision but only for personal profit. How far can this go? Why should I try? Why should I put myself through that again? I'm safe in here. No one can touch me. Everyone slides off like those few notes of music did.

But music is everywhere. It's in everything. It's loud. Quiet. Slow. Fast. Steady. Erratic. Kind. Cruel. There are as many kinds of music as there are people in the world. I may have defended myself against the music I've already heard. The music I know. But what about the music I don't know? How am I going to stay prepared for new things if I stay locked inside? Surely it's only a matter of time before something seriously threatens my peace. If it's not this song it will be the next. Or perhaps the one after that.

I want the music. I want it to seep through my shell and graze me just a little. I want to feel what everyone else has been talking about. I guess that's just it. I'm not afraid of the music that seeps. Only the music that cuts. The music that slices through my outer sphere while I'm sleeping and holds its blade to my throat demanding my surrender.

I did surrender once. I had no idea what I was doing. It mistreated me and held me in contempt. It betrayed me and made it look like I betrayed myself. It turned me against myself. My vengeance nerve twitches violently at the memory of it. And my brain tries to ease the pain with pleasant thoughts and distracting activities. But deep down inside I can't help but promise that I will never surrender completely again.

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As it turns out, Kristy likes Jalapeno bagels. Who knew? So the errant bag is firmly in her jurisdiction now. Apparently Jalapeno bagels require cream cheese, something which I was previously unaware. No wonder I hated them. Anyways, crisis averted. Situation normal(?).

On another topic, as of this moment there are 18 comments on the immediately previous post about bagels. Somehow the conversation swerved from merely my own displeasure at eating one to me taking a road trip to have hot sex with Krista. Quite an interesting read. I'm not willing to make a statement on this at this time because I haven't decided what I want to do yet. And when I do decide something one way or the other I probably won't be blogging about it because I typically don't talk about those kinds of things.

Went for drinks with Kisa and a few of her friends last night. She's on her way to Victoria to leave on a sailboat to San Diego. Should take them almost a month to get there. Talking to Kisa always reminds me of how I'm tied to wherever I live. Anchored might be a better word. Someday I hope to drift more freely through life but it certainly won't happen until long after I'm out of debt.

I talked Patrick into giving me editorial status on his mostly-lifeless Science and Tech blog. I hope to expound my own ideas and thoughts on science while simultaneously bringing a good idea back from the brink of poor management. Then this blog will just be about religion, politics, and personal stuff. Me minus the robot.

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So I'm sitting in front of my computer typing this post one-handed because I'm eating breakfast. Last night when I went shopping I had no idea there was such a thing as a Jalapeno bagel. I foolishly thought that all bagel flavours were "safe" like "whole wheat" and "sesame". Next time I'll be more careful. It totally destroyed the minty toothpaste sensation I had earlier and I'm not certain that brushing again will do any good. Seriously, who ever requested that they make Jalapeno bagels in the first place?

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Walking home. The rain is coming heavier now. Starting to drip down my head. I pass a store window and I notice the mannequins in their short skirts. I can't seem to bridge the gap between the representation of reality and actual reality. I try to picture what real women look like when they wear the mannequin-gear and my brain falls apart a little. I wonder how long it's been since those mannequins actually helped to sell anything.

I like nights like this. The wind and rain push against me and I push back. I like my mood because growling feels natural. A soft, uneven purr escaping my throat whenever I breathe out. It reminds of an engine idling inside me waiting for its chance to wind up and take the rest of me somewhere. Away from all this.

I walk past a pub downtown. The people inside try not to notice me through the window but they can't help it. Alone, shoulders hunched, and dripping wet from the eyebrows. The word "forlorn" drifts vacantly through their heads in search of something to connect with. To them I'm a subliminal effect. I happen on the outside of their lives and they truly believe that nothing I do affects them so they try not to notice me whenever possible. I watch them as I walk past each window and notice that any difference between them is minimal at best. They're warm, paired off, and sipping expensive drinks for the esthetic value rather than the alcoholic effect. The words "useless waste" scream in my head hoping that someone else can hear.

Getting away from downtown and into the residential. My shoulders are now soaked and the cold is affecting me. The wet is starting to run down my front and back making my t-shirt cling to me. As I turn to face people I feel like a cornered animal threatening with my eyes to lash out if they get any closer. There's a reason why no one else I pass is walking alone. At night, people can't be trusted.

The street lights are casting multiple shadows in front of me. I see a shadow of another person approaching me from the rear on my left. The new person is suddenly very close and moving too quickly to be just another walker. Their movement forward is too smooth to be a runner. Must be someone on a bicycle. My terror alert level lowers from orange to yellow. People who ride bikes in the rain aren't looking for any trouble. They just want to get home.

The position of the shadows tells me that he's about to pass me on my right side. I turn suddenly as he comes into view as if he startled me. As if I hadn't known he was coming. As if I hadn't calculated his mode of transport, intent, path trajectory and time of possible interception within a millisecond. As if I was more human than machine. I wonder if I ever fool anyone. I wonder if anyone believes I'm normal. I've stopped talking to people about normal because they all say the same thing. No one is normal. But that's just another catch-phrase of the times that everyone says but no one really believes.

As I approach my house I have to actively suppress a shiver. No one is watching. No one can see me or would care if they could. But I still feel that I should not show any sign of weakness. I step inside and peel off my shirt to feel the warm air. This is the reason why there will never be a story told about my life. It would be all character and no plot.

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I have a friend named Jaime who lives in California. We met on ICQ back in 1999 through the strangest of flukes. It all started with Thomson's little brother Chris. He didn't used to talk very much or use any facial expression so we started calling him Deadguy. Jaime's favourite comic book character is an undead little girl zombie named Lenore. She started using the ICQ name lildeadgir1 and one day sent a message to Deadguy. Deadguy was wierded out by people he didn't know on the internet sending him messages so he asked Patrick who it could possibly be. Patrick, looking for some point of reference, asked me about it. I, for my part, decided to simply ask her about it. This was followed by a great deal of time wasted at work on ICQ and eventually to where I am now. You really never know where or when you're going to meet someone who you'll come to know for years and years.

Jaime's favourite trick is to call me out of the blue and then hand the phone off to other people who are in the room/car/bed with her (just kidding about the bed thing, Jaime). Then I have to talk to complete strangers for upwards of ten minutes while trying to not sound bored so I can talk to Jaime again. It was great fun until I started doing it to her.

I went to visit Jaime and her family in December of 2000. The visit was timed to coincide with my Christmas vacation and her 21st birthday. I saw many incredible things during my 6 days in California. I always knew that the "little" cities in the US were quite a bit larger than the "little" cities in Canada but it was different to see it firsthand. One of the most amazing things I remember was the freeways. I can't even describe it. So many people, all with such an aggressive mindset. I'm surprised there aren't even more shootings down there. From what I saw the people down there are showing surprising restraint.

Oh yes, and there was also Mount Diablo which I wasn't very impressed with at all. I thought that the Rockies extended down through California but those little mounds they have down there can't be part of the same mountain range we have here in BC. Rocky Mountains are supposed to look like a row of jagged teeth. Preferably on all parts of the horizon as if you're inside the mouth of some gigantic shark.

But anyways, back to Jaime. She's getting married this October and I'm very sad that I can't attend. I've never met Josh but I know how happy Jaime gets when she tells me about him and I know they'll be happy together. Jaime told me just last night that she will be taking her honeymoon in Vancouver! I hope I can talk her into going someplace a little less like California and a little more like the rest of BC. Particularly from the mountainous scenery perspective. Vancouver is really cool, I just hope they don't spend their whole week there and think that all of Canada is like it. So, Jaime, come to Canada. See firsthand what I've been telling you about for 5 years now. You'll probably still prefer California but you'll never forget BC.

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No reply. That's what I was afraid of when I started this whole thing. That you would turn me away again when things got uncomfortable for you. Why did you email me on my birthday? Why did you tell me that you don't want our friendship to go down the drain? Why do you say these things and then neglect to respond to my emails? Are there things you can't face me about? Things you can't talk to me about? You told me I was your best friend. So talk to me. I'm here. Ready to listen. Start talking. I'll listen to everything you have to say without judging you. I only want to know you. I only want to know what's going on with you.

You can ignore me for a long, long time. But you also want to know me. You also want to know what's going on with me. You also want to be my friend. You want the same things from me that I want from you. This is what friendships are about. The true measure of a friend is in what they do when things aren't all about happy-happy good times. You'll really know who your friends are when life kicks you in the teeth. I'm trying to be that kind of friend to you. But I'm also asking you to be that kind of friend to me. Please?

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Just finished having dinner with an engineer from San Diego. This is a different engineer than the one we had visiting us last week, who was also from San Diego. There is a specific reason why we get so many engineers who visit us from San Diego but it would just sound like jargonjargon to anyone who isn't interested in the economics of the cell phone industry so I won't bore you. I like going to dinner with engineers from out of town because I get to bring in the receipt and the company will reimburse me for it (eventually).

Talked to my long-lost Jiu Jitsu instructor tonight. I'm going to start that up again when I can make it there on time (probably Saturday). He seemed happy to have me back and didn't seem bitter at all about my being away for so long. Good news.

My hand has been forced in something and I hate blogging about anything before I'm ready but the truth must be known. Late last week, my roommates Dan and Kristy broke up. The details are richer and fuller in their heads than in mine so if you're priveleged enough to know either of them you can kindly ask them about it. I talked it over with both of them and I expressed that they had to work out a solution between the two of them. Several solutions to the problem were proposed by the interested parties (that's Dan and Kristy for those who haven't been paying attention) and the immediate result is that Dan has moved out.

Now, it has been said that Dan has been forcefully ejected from the place I call home by both myself and Kristy. The person who has voiced this opinion is clearly a troublemaker. The opinions of the mentally infirm cannot be trusted or validated by real world facts.

Just talked to Thomson about the upcoming glacier hike. Last year we made it to Pinnacle Lake and flirted with the option of continuing on to the peak. We were halted in our tracks when I stupidly neglected to think about the temperature at that elevation after hiking for so long (and sweating) and I fell victim to the first degree/level of hypothermia. This year will be different, though. I'm older and wiser now and as long as Thomson can keep up then we're heading straight to the top without stopping to even think about the cold. Will report more on Sunday night when we return.

The much anticipated email conversation with my estranged friend has yet to form very much coherence. So far the issues she didn't completely ignore she simply denied or blamed on other people. I'm far more tricky and persistent than that, however. Tomorrow will make a full week since my last email. It looks like I may have to step this up a notch. Or drop the whole thing for good. But I hate to give up on people I was once close to.

And lastly, I graduated with a woman named Krista. We talked quite a bit at the reunion. She started a blog just today. She seems far more wordy than me. Check it out.

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Close your eyes. Feel yourself breathing. Thinking. Feeling. The part of you that feels emotions is like a geyser. Chemicals spring forth from glands that make your body react in funny ways and your brain tries to categorize each one. These reactions are so intense and complex that you can only create simple words for each one like "love" or "hate" or "fear". Once in a while you get "nervous" or "cheery". Your thoughts come from your brain like carefully excavated artifacts or maybe painstakingly constructed ships-in-a-bottle.

Both parts are essential to your being. They don't mix in their natural habitat. But they each have a distinct origin. Imagine connecting the two. Building a pathway from one to the other. Popping the cork off of your bottled up emotions. Pushing them through the finely tuned word-filter in your head. Scream them out to the world. Don't worry about making any sense. Within very little time your brain will stop trying to understand and categorize and will switch to building and shaping the feelings into legible thoughts.

Rush the feelings out like there's no time left to lose. Pour them out and hit "send" (or "post") and never look back. Never look twice. Don't give your mind a chance to censor. Pour the emotions through your head like water through a sieve. Pick a beat in your head and time your words with it. Force the words out. Keep talking. Don't stop. It doesn't matter if it rhymes or not. This is true poetry in motion. Poetry because it comes from the place where you feel things and motion because you can't stop the flow coming from your head.

At first you'll feel like you're going to run out of emotions to feel. But then you realize that your soul is deeper than you had previously known. Once you're addicted to the expression, you start thinking that you're going to run out of words to express all the things that keep pouring out of you. Lose originality and start repeating everything you've said before. But then you forget all that and just close your eyes again to see the wellspring of feeling coming from your soul like an uncorked champagne bottle and you hear yourself still speaking words in your head even after your voice grows too hoarse to speak and you wonder if you're going to even be able to sleep tonight with the wheel in your head still churning like this.

You wonder how you ever thought you had lived before this day. When you pretend that things don't affect you for long enough it starts to become real. That's when the slow inner death starts. The geyser becomes merely a frothing stream and then slows to a trickle. Fear the inner peace. Tear down the barriers inside yourself. Find your pulpit and scream your beliefs from it. Dare the world to stop you. Become the self on the outside that you dared to dream about inside.

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My dreams are strange. Mostly I don't remember them at all and I blame it on the few hours I allow myself to sleep. But other times I think that there's another reason. Every morning when I wake up I have this confused sensation that I was just dreaming about something important and even moments after I wake up I can't remember a thing about it. I think I'm dreaming a lot of things simultaneously.

Picture this. You have ten movies that you want to watch (that are all roughly the same length) and you only have time to watch one of them. So, for some crazy and unexplained reason, you watch all ten of them overlayed on top of one another. All ten picture sequences are overlapped on the screen to the point where it looks more like random white noise than anything you could recognize as a movie. All ten soundtracks are playing simultaneously on your stereo and it sounds like the first day of grade 8 band class where everybody just plays whatever they want at the loudest volume to get accustomed to the instruments.

There is no way at all for you to figure out what's going on in any one movie. Your brain is assaulted by a blitzkrieg of imagery and you can't understand anything. But if you knew what the plot was and who the characters were you might stand a chance of picking one movie out from the rest. If your brain knew the general shape that one particular movie was supposed to have then it could pull that image with that sound out of the rest of the noise and piece it together. This is what is happening with my dreams.

Whenever I have deja vu it's a strange sequence of events that gives me the feeling that I've either been there before or somehow had some image from a dream of it happening. Nothing new for anyone I'm sure. But for the past three years or so whenever I get deja vu I also get image-fragments of other events that either also happened previous to that moment (during which I also had deja vu) or perhaps were yet to happen and, in hindsight, did eventually happen with a deja vu. Thus I will have 5 or 6 unique events that will happen between 6 months of each other that are all linked because, not only did I have deja vu at each event, but at each event I had deju vu of all 5 or 6 events simultaneously.

The only explanation I have for this is the simultaneous dream theory. For some reason my brain feels that it doesn't have time to dream one thing at a time. It seems like it's grouping events that are all likely to happen if the first one occurs and then displaying them all at once. And each time I see one of them, all of them surface in my memory because I dreamed them all simultaneously. The only problem is that it doesn't help me to see the future at all because I need to be in the situation before I know enough about it to "pick it out" of the dream and remember that I had a deja vu about it.

What do you think? Am I onto something here? Has anyone else experienced the same kind of thing? Or am I totally cracked out on too much science fiction?

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I recently bought a pair of sunglasses. I have never worn sunglasses before because of an irrational belief that there were none that looked good on me. But now I'm satisfied with this pair and I wear them every chance I get. They really are nice sunglasses. They are only slightly tinted. Occasionally the sun's light will cast a certain way to make the inside part of the lens reflective. This means that not only is my vision obscured but it's obscured by an extreme closeup view of my own eyes. At first it was a little creepy but now I'm getting used to it. And, of course, it gives a whole new meaning to the word "introspection".

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