Why did I ever make this thing? It's embarassing in hindsight. Who was ever going to read this crap?
Oh well.
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
Friday, June 26, 2015
Closure
Obviously, this isn't a daily thing anymore. It was fun while it lasted - a nice little experiment. Maybe I'll still update it if I decide to turn it into a real blog (read: not a journal), but it's served its purpose.
Monday, June 22, 2015
The Faceless Are All Ok
Some people have an immense amount of talent, and find venues for this talent within the society that they live in, creating something fruitful out of it and becoming well known and loved by many for doing what they do well. Some people are in the right place at the right time, and manage to find success simply because they were able to take advantage of their circumstances.
I'm not talking about people who make a lot of money, although that usually ends up being the case anyway. I'm talking about people who find a way to live that other people can appreciate, and that are able to live their lives in an immediately apparent and fulfilling way. Steve Jobs built a corporate empire that continues to improve the lives of many and has directly affected the evolution of modern society. Jerry Seinfeld is an extremely talented and unique comedian that created a sitcom that's almost universally beloved, and is one of the most widely referenced pieces of pop culture. Martin Luther King Jr. used his experience with suffering and his skill in rhetoric to make the world a genuinely better and more accepting place. As you can see, there's a wide range of ways to cement yourself in history as someone who's done something "good" with their life.
But there's also a lot of people who don't get known for what they do. The faceless worker bees of society, the lost soul who can't seem to find their place in life, those who are sick and unable to live their lives the way that they want to. They're people, with thoughts and talents and work that they complete just like people that everybody knows and sees as successful. But unlike celebrities and public figures, nobody can see what they do or who they are at first glance. Their public identity doesn't reflect who they are. Does this make them lesser people? I really don't think so.
Struggling with who you are and what you can do is all too common. A lot of people worry that they aren't successful or famous or loved or perceived as important. But I don't think anyone has to be. Everyone has a different purpose in life, and nobody is worth less because their purpose is "smaller" than someone else. Every piece of the puzzle is important. Jerry Seinfeld and the barista who filled your coffee at Starbucks and your middle school math teacher are all human beings, living their own lives with their own philosophies and thoughts and talents and ideas. And not everyone gets to use their talent - sometimes people are robbed of this chance by illness, or don't have the support that they need to cultivate their particular talent. An unfortunate truth, yes, but not one that diminishes the intrinsic worth of the human soul.
Mother Teresa once said, “It is not the magnitude of our actions, but the amount of love that is put into them that matters.” Wise words to live by. "Success" is less about how many people see and acknowledge what you do, or even benefit from what you do, and a lot more about the intention that goes into what you do and doing the best that you can do with what you're given.
I'm not talking about people who make a lot of money, although that usually ends up being the case anyway. I'm talking about people who find a way to live that other people can appreciate, and that are able to live their lives in an immediately apparent and fulfilling way. Steve Jobs built a corporate empire that continues to improve the lives of many and has directly affected the evolution of modern society. Jerry Seinfeld is an extremely talented and unique comedian that created a sitcom that's almost universally beloved, and is one of the most widely referenced pieces of pop culture. Martin Luther King Jr. used his experience with suffering and his skill in rhetoric to make the world a genuinely better and more accepting place. As you can see, there's a wide range of ways to cement yourself in history as someone who's done something "good" with their life.
But there's also a lot of people who don't get known for what they do. The faceless worker bees of society, the lost soul who can't seem to find their place in life, those who are sick and unable to live their lives the way that they want to. They're people, with thoughts and talents and work that they complete just like people that everybody knows and sees as successful. But unlike celebrities and public figures, nobody can see what they do or who they are at first glance. Their public identity doesn't reflect who they are. Does this make them lesser people? I really don't think so.
Struggling with who you are and what you can do is all too common. A lot of people worry that they aren't successful or famous or loved or perceived as important. But I don't think anyone has to be. Everyone has a different purpose in life, and nobody is worth less because their purpose is "smaller" than someone else. Every piece of the puzzle is important. Jerry Seinfeld and the barista who filled your coffee at Starbucks and your middle school math teacher are all human beings, living their own lives with their own philosophies and thoughts and talents and ideas. And not everyone gets to use their talent - sometimes people are robbed of this chance by illness, or don't have the support that they need to cultivate their particular talent. An unfortunate truth, yes, but not one that diminishes the intrinsic worth of the human soul.
Mother Teresa once said, “It is not the magnitude of our actions, but the amount of love that is put into them that matters.” Wise words to live by. "Success" is less about how many people see and acknowledge what you do, or even benefit from what you do, and a lot more about the intention that goes into what you do and doing the best that you can do with what you're given.
Saturday, June 20, 2015
Framework of Creation
It's amazing how the pieces of things come together to create something so much larger than their individual parts.
This has always been fascinating. I first realized how amazing it is when I was very little, watching the construction of a bridge or a part of a highway or something similar. I would see it every time I was on that highway, which was often. Over time, what was originally a bunch of pillars and iron bars and randomly placed cranes and irate workers became something that had a definite form and shape to it, and was not only aesthetically appealing but also useful - a far cry from its skeletal beginnings.
The three instances I find this to be most apparently amazing in are:
Art,
Language,
And music.
Art by itself is lines and shapes. Every piece of art begins with a single stroke, and then another, and then another, and then you add some color, you move onto another set of lines and strokes and shapes, and before you know it you have something that doesn't look anything like a bunch of lines and shapes, but like something with substance, a real piece of art. Look at this, for example:
It's quite nice to look at. Yet it began with lines and shapes. In fact, it still is lines and shapes and splashes of color. But we don't see that - the finished product is something entirely beyond its individual parts, the sum of those parts creating something absolutely impossible to see when those parts are perceived on their own.
Words are the same way. I've spent a good amount of my life studying Japanese - 日本語. The reason it interests me is that it's a logographic language - to most Americans it looks like a bunch of random shapes. Yet, if you can decipher and interpret those shapes and symbols, they cease to become shapes and they become a means of communication and expression. Some people can't read the Arabic alphabet that we use in western culture. Since we learn how to read at such an early age, it becomes something that's totally second nature to us, like breathing. Yet, looking at a language you once could not understand and then being able to read it really opens your eyes as to how beautifully complex words and letters and written language are. Learning Japanese, learning an entire system of writing, you realize how you have to take it step by step, and it at first seems impossible. し and シ are different ways of expressing the syllable "shi", which blows the mind of the ordinary English speaker. "They're just pictures," you think. But no, they're so much more than that - you just can't see their purpose or worth because you're used to seeing the complete picture of written language, its individual pieces lost long ago, when you first learned to read. Written language is truly an amazing thing, its depth and complexity and intrinsic worth and beauty often unappreciated. It's almost like magic, watching seemingly random symbols gain meaning when placed together in a certain way.
Then there's music. Music is a bunch of sounds. Blow on a trumpet without any experience with playing a trumpet before, or pluck the string on a guitar, and you have the beginnings of music. A meaningless noise, hardly anything worth mentioning. Yet you put all the noises that individual instruments make, change the intonation of the sound at specific times, and piece them together, and - voila - you suddenly have an orchestra, a song, a performance. Music is especially interesting in that you can add people's voices to it, something meant for communication, and turn them into something musical. Poetry suddenly has a voice and a means of expression beyond simple words. And, going even further, and coming off of discussing the beauty of written language, it's even more amazing how music has its own language.
That's Mozart. That looks like total and complete gibberish to anyone who can't read sheet music. It's amazing how that represents sounds, and how the sheet music translates to audible music when performed. In a way, music is another form of language and communication, sometimes of an even higher form than spoken language, and the ability to write and read it only cements this fact.
This could go on all day. Everything has pieces to it that aren't even a shadow of the completed product. There's a universal meaning to this, too. The lives we live are a lot like these individual pieces, where we can't see their greater purpose when viewed on their own. We're part of a society, a world, and a universe, something much bigger and more beautiful and more grand than we can possibly comprehend or imagine.
In my perfect view of an afterlife, we get to see the grand plan, the finished product, the big picture, the final culmination of the sum of each of our lives. I say this because I'm sure it's impossible to see with the limited perspective that we have. I'm sure it's a hell of a product, too. The grand scheme of creation. What could be more amazing than that?
This has always been fascinating. I first realized how amazing it is when I was very little, watching the construction of a bridge or a part of a highway or something similar. I would see it every time I was on that highway, which was often. Over time, what was originally a bunch of pillars and iron bars and randomly placed cranes and irate workers became something that had a definite form and shape to it, and was not only aesthetically appealing but also useful - a far cry from its skeletal beginnings.
The three instances I find this to be most apparently amazing in are:
Art,
Language,
And music.
Art by itself is lines and shapes. Every piece of art begins with a single stroke, and then another, and then another, and then you add some color, you move onto another set of lines and strokes and shapes, and before you know it you have something that doesn't look anything like a bunch of lines and shapes, but like something with substance, a real piece of art. Look at this, for example:
It's quite nice to look at. Yet it began with lines and shapes. In fact, it still is lines and shapes and splashes of color. But we don't see that - the finished product is something entirely beyond its individual parts, the sum of those parts creating something absolutely impossible to see when those parts are perceived on their own.
Words are the same way. I've spent a good amount of my life studying Japanese - 日本語. The reason it interests me is that it's a logographic language - to most Americans it looks like a bunch of random shapes. Yet, if you can decipher and interpret those shapes and symbols, they cease to become shapes and they become a means of communication and expression. Some people can't read the Arabic alphabet that we use in western culture. Since we learn how to read at such an early age, it becomes something that's totally second nature to us, like breathing. Yet, looking at a language you once could not understand and then being able to read it really opens your eyes as to how beautifully complex words and letters and written language are. Learning Japanese, learning an entire system of writing, you realize how you have to take it step by step, and it at first seems impossible. し and シ are different ways of expressing the syllable "shi", which blows the mind of the ordinary English speaker. "They're just pictures," you think. But no, they're so much more than that - you just can't see their purpose or worth because you're used to seeing the complete picture of written language, its individual pieces lost long ago, when you first learned to read. Written language is truly an amazing thing, its depth and complexity and intrinsic worth and beauty often unappreciated. It's almost like magic, watching seemingly random symbols gain meaning when placed together in a certain way.
Then there's music. Music is a bunch of sounds. Blow on a trumpet without any experience with playing a trumpet before, or pluck the string on a guitar, and you have the beginnings of music. A meaningless noise, hardly anything worth mentioning. Yet you put all the noises that individual instruments make, change the intonation of the sound at specific times, and piece them together, and - voila - you suddenly have an orchestra, a song, a performance. Music is especially interesting in that you can add people's voices to it, something meant for communication, and turn them into something musical. Poetry suddenly has a voice and a means of expression beyond simple words. And, going even further, and coming off of discussing the beauty of written language, it's even more amazing how music has its own language.
That's Mozart. That looks like total and complete gibberish to anyone who can't read sheet music. It's amazing how that represents sounds, and how the sheet music translates to audible music when performed. In a way, music is another form of language and communication, sometimes of an even higher form than spoken language, and the ability to write and read it only cements this fact.
This could go on all day. Everything has pieces to it that aren't even a shadow of the completed product. There's a universal meaning to this, too. The lives we live are a lot like these individual pieces, where we can't see their greater purpose when viewed on their own. We're part of a society, a world, and a universe, something much bigger and more beautiful and more grand than we can possibly comprehend or imagine.
In my perfect view of an afterlife, we get to see the grand plan, the finished product, the big picture, the final culmination of the sum of each of our lives. I say this because I'm sure it's impossible to see with the limited perspective that we have. I'm sure it's a hell of a product, too. The grand scheme of creation. What could be more amazing than that?
Thursday, June 18, 2015
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
Hello, Dante Aligheri
I am convinced that all paperwork comes from one of the circles of Hell.
Writing? Cool. Essays? Also cool. Letters and e-mails? They're alright!
But enter the world of job applications, appeal forms, score reports, tax forms, account books, lesson planning, grading, and any other exercise in pure tedium...
No wonder so many bankers quit their jobs, despite them paying so well. Insane amounts of time spent doing insanity inducing work.
On that note, this little guy popped up on my social media feed this morning - the tentatively named Opisthoteuthis Adorabilis.
Sometimes, especially in the midst of a string of stressful experiences, it's the little things that make your day. Sometimes those little things are an adorable octopus. That's life, I guess.
Writing? Cool. Essays? Also cool. Letters and e-mails? They're alright!
But enter the world of job applications, appeal forms, score reports, tax forms, account books, lesson planning, grading, and any other exercise in pure tedium...
No wonder so many bankers quit their jobs, despite them paying so well. Insane amounts of time spent doing insanity inducing work.
On that note, this little guy popped up on my social media feed this morning - the tentatively named Opisthoteuthis Adorabilis.
Sometimes, especially in the midst of a string of stressful experiences, it's the little things that make your day. Sometimes those little things are an adorable octopus. That's life, I guess.
Monday, June 15, 2015
Soul Unison
I just got back from my first wedding experience.
It was very nice. I have never seen two people look happier in my entire life. The ceremony was short but sweet (Protestants don't have a mass) and the reception was something out of this world. At the Boston Museum of Science, of all places! Creative, interesting, and fun. The food was great! Never before have I had a bite sized hamburger, and possibly never again will I have one.
Weddings are truly a beautiful thing. A marriage of two souls, a unison of being, a lifetime of commitment through thick and thin, a true declaration of love.
Now, the realist in me: I have no doubts about my cousin's love for his recent wife, but the ceremony brought to mind a terrible realization that these supposed-to-be lifelong bonds are broken all too often in our society and in our generation. After witnessing the process firsthand, I can't help but feel broken by the fact that divorce is so commonplace these days. In A Man for All Seasons, Thomas Moore is utterly appalled that King Henry would ask to break these sacred bonds. What would he think of our society today?
Love is not a concept to be trifled with or taken lightly. It's a lifelong commitment - you stick with it for good, through good times and bad, you forgive, you love wholly and truly. My train of thought is not outdated or idealistic, as some may argue, as love and the sanctity of marriage are timeless and meant to remain unbroken, even in hardship. I have seen so many people take marriage with a grain of salt, or even denounce it entirely; truly, we have lost our way as a society if this is how people see the world, and how they view the concept of love and commitment to one another.
Here I am, speaking about such depressing things in the aftermath of a wedding. The sheer joy I witnessed led me to think that such a sacred experience should never, ever be treated with anything less than the utmost reverence. So, back to happy thoughts. I am extremely happy for and proud of my cousin for achieving this monumental milestone in his life, and I wish him the absolute best going forward.
It was very nice. I have never seen two people look happier in my entire life. The ceremony was short but sweet (Protestants don't have a mass) and the reception was something out of this world. At the Boston Museum of Science, of all places! Creative, interesting, and fun. The food was great! Never before have I had a bite sized hamburger, and possibly never again will I have one.
Weddings are truly a beautiful thing. A marriage of two souls, a unison of being, a lifetime of commitment through thick and thin, a true declaration of love.
Now, the realist in me: I have no doubts about my cousin's love for his recent wife, but the ceremony brought to mind a terrible realization that these supposed-to-be lifelong bonds are broken all too often in our society and in our generation. After witnessing the process firsthand, I can't help but feel broken by the fact that divorce is so commonplace these days. In A Man for All Seasons, Thomas Moore is utterly appalled that King Henry would ask to break these sacred bonds. What would he think of our society today?
Love is not a concept to be trifled with or taken lightly. It's a lifelong commitment - you stick with it for good, through good times and bad, you forgive, you love wholly and truly. My train of thought is not outdated or idealistic, as some may argue, as love and the sanctity of marriage are timeless and meant to remain unbroken, even in hardship. I have seen so many people take marriage with a grain of salt, or even denounce it entirely; truly, we have lost our way as a society if this is how people see the world, and how they view the concept of love and commitment to one another.
Here I am, speaking about such depressing things in the aftermath of a wedding. The sheer joy I witnessed led me to think that such a sacred experience should never, ever be treated with anything less than the utmost reverence. So, back to happy thoughts. I am extremely happy for and proud of my cousin for achieving this monumental milestone in his life, and I wish him the absolute best going forward.
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