Saturday, November 24, 2012

Inspired by an Intrusive Thought.

     I can't be the only one who believes that there are certain points in life when people, innocent people, are lying down somewhere or innocently doing things innocent people do, and get hit by a metaphoric ton of inspiration that tells them something they weren't previously ready to face about the world. This Intrusive Thought inspires these people to become scientists and explorers, working men, idealists, and people of grandeur. It isn't that we were necessarily different then the people around us, but that we happened to be in the right environment at the right time in the right circumstances to view the world differently than what it could be, and every since that moment, the paradigm we saw stuck in our heads like a dart on a dart board, sharply poking our gray matter in it's contented arse. There is another way to look at it.
     It is because of this intrusively inspirational perspective that we become driven to excell, we see everyone else going on with their lives as if no other way is possible, sheep, lemmings, voters, and believe that if we become better than they are, they will pay attention to us. They will believe us, and they, too, will change.
     I went through a brief stage of my life when I wanted to be a preacher, strange as it sounds, I personally felt like I was being called by God to the ministry. I could work a crowd into a frenzy about Jesus, I could be the energetic fun loving yet philosophical pastor and I could whip a story that would make your heart shatter and lift your soul higher than, well, heaven. I was a good Christian boy, into apologetics and it was at a youth retreat concert when it happened. They asked if anyone felt they were being called by God into the ministry to hang back afterwards for a counseling. For those of you hoping that this will end in a little boy vs Catholic priest story, shame. I was in my teens and there were about thirty of us "chosen" who stayed behind. I can describe my exact feelings:
I was impressed at myself for staying behind, for letting my friends know that I felt chosen to be a preacher.
I was slightly apprehensive that they were going to call me out on it and make me take a test, asking: "What does the voice of God sound like? How do you KNOW he was talking to you, I mean really?"
I was in awe that at the concert, there were so many people that felt like they were being called to the preaching profession and really surprised at the balls of all of them, and the energy that filled the room. Thinking back, that energy might have been all of the mountain dew and free cookies.
     We all gathered around these two ministers and they prayed over us and told us that God had chosen us for a higher calling, call your families and let them know, and choose a mentor. Then they prayed again and let us go back to our cabins.
     Let me just say that at the time, it felt right. It didn't feel normal, in fact, because there were near 1000 people there, being one of the 30 people called felt downright revolutionary. I wanted to be able to change people's lives from a pulpit. Little did I realize that the pulpit could be anywhere, so long as the voice was heard and the channel could be opened to as many people as possible.
     The saddest thing, I think, is the dilution of a message for anybody to be able to understand it, and that often times, the scientist comes last because if you let the idiots come last, they'll wander off somewhere, not pay attention when it comes there time, and there goes at least 90 percent of your viewership. (That's not an arbitrary number, only 10 percent of people ever do things in this world, and the top 10 percent of them get recognized.) The idiots have to be addressed first, that way you can get everyone involved. Everyone can do something, even the dumb deaf mute blind bastard child of Ephialtes has something to contribute, and if you don't think they do then you have some severe lessons to learn from Leonidas of Sparta and the modern economic policies of India.
     There's always something to do, always a new corner to turn in the History pages. There's a way forward, there's an idea out there that you can grab onto, latch yourself into and get inspired by. Take a good hard look at the world. If you don't see something wrong, something that can be improved, something that everyone needs to know, something that you personally can do to make a difference, you aren't looking hard enough. Even God has evolved over time. Religions have changed since old days, bettered themselves in an effort to clean up their act, not that they ever can be pure, there's too much red in the books of religion if you ask me. Religion is dying, diseased and it's tumor in modern thought and society will be cut out before the century is over. People will still be spiritual, religious, even, but modern religion will disappear into the gutter.
     I hope I've been entertaining.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

On Blogger, The Grass Is Greener

Sorry for not posting yesterday, life gave me a booty called and I had to get screwed. That's my excuse. I dropped from exhaustion and slept to give thanks for my bed yesterday, which was about the only thought I emitted. No dreams. Just bliss. I love my pillow.

Anyway, I'm back now and have a 96 to share with you all the updates on my story and hopefully write a lot more of it. I have all the free time in the world! Muahahaa! At least, that's what it feels like. I'm conditioned even worse than I already know, I'm doing MCI's and writing this and exercising and getting my haircut and making sure my uniforms look good for next week and all of that is happening on my "free time." I have no free time. There is no free time. Henry David Thoreau once said that you can't kill time without injuring eternity, and I took that very much to heart. I don't kill time. I teach it, manage it, throw it around, spin in at my whimsy and look it straight in the eye and say: No. I will not bow to your rules. I will be the master here, you will like it, there is no buts, no excuses, and no arguments. At least I tried to, but it just kept marching. I think my point was made, though.
So what I'm up to: I went to the USO today, and I have a volunteer event at the beach signed up for and ready to go. I'm helping to clean it, I feel as if it might help public image of the Marine Corps.
I'm finally getting down to this book. It took a whole new turn on me today, I have no idea where the plot twist came from but I'm going with it, hopefully I can think myself out of it and moved my main character onto bigger things, more important things. I don't know why, but I haven't even introduced his family to the story yet. I'm thinking about a brother... and a pet, but I don't know what the pet will be. Dogs are cliche. New breeds are too weird to bring into the story without first introducing the concept. Maybe there will just be a communal pet that everyone takes care of... I like that idea.

For the record, I'm slightly insane. I want to point that out before you read any more. Only slightly, it's enough to make people think that I'm mysterious and have this whole other side to me, but just to little to go out of control and start killing people randomly. Not that I haven't considered it, I know how to pretty much get away with anything now, but I won't do that. Terrorist regimes are to hard to set up for a shorter life span and cheap thrills. I'm looking to better the entire human condition, and I can't do that from in prison. Well, I can do that from within prison, but I won't be taken as seriously and I probably won't be introduced at scientific seminars in quite the same manner.
"So right in the middle of the shower, I dropped the soap. That's when I really started thinking about studying the effects of gravity, from there, physics, well, long story short Soap led to Science and here I am today."

That's the dream, anyway. Be a world-famous, quite humble scientist that looks completely ripped, work at a thinking institution and be generally the best person I can be. I owe that to myself, and my parents. Everyone else doesn't get free crap, but I love enough of you to give a pass on the rest for now. Future content will be remarked on with great admiration, though, so be warned...
Anywho, I was humbled today. I took a semblance of the Wonderlic test. That's the test that NFL players have to take before they can be considered for picking, anyway, it kicked my little but.

Apparently a 20 was about the average IQ (about 100) and I got a 6. That's barely passing. Harvard graduates get 48's and 50's. There are some pretty intellectual Football players out there, let me tell you. I'm just not one of them right now. I've been away from the college scene for a while, actually, and let most of the skills it asked for go to waste. I need to get back on Khanacademy. So there's a tip for you: if you ever start thinking that too many professional football players are overpaid, there's at least a couple of them who can beat your ass while quoting today's stock exchange rate. And they went to Harvard, too, so they were rich before they joined the ranks of football professionals.
That's it for today, unless you want to come to my room and chat up until midnight. Which I'm fine with, just make sure you smell nice. People keep on stumbling in here drunk off their minds, and they smell horrible.
I detest alcohol. As a vice, it's probably only second to smoking on the list of vices that are way to expensive as they kill you.


Monday, November 19, 2012


     Drive me up a while, take a left and dump me out of the passenger seat onto my head. I'm going crazy over here, my to-do list is sky high and the only thing I have to cope with is this writing task I'm assigning myself. It relaxes me, or it used to. Let me explain.
     I have promised to write this, and I will. I will. I will. I will. Also, I have to write a 10 paragraph biography for my commander by tomorrow morning to sum up my reasons for being in the Marine Corps. I want to write a novel. (THAT's going dismally slowly. I can't wait for this weekend. I'm just going to freewrite it, I think.)
     I want also to write out book reports for my Commandant's reading list books that I've already read and want to go back over. The only problem with that one is that I can't remember half of the stuff the book goes over, so it feels like I'm cheating as I'm refreshing myself with SparkNotes because I can't find the books at the local library and/or don't want to re-read... it wouldn't be bad for me to re-read the books, just to gain some perspective again, which is what I'm doing for First To Fight. THAT is an awesome book. Worth reading twice. However, books like Starship Troopers, Blink, 1984 and A Message to Garcia? Well, A Message To Garcia is a grand total of 3 pages and actually online for free to read, so that one will probably be easy, but all of the others are a days read. (I say a day, but it would only take a few hours, which practically sums up all of my free time, WHICH IS MY DAY, so chill with the illiterate comments. All of you. Chill.)
     Yeah. That about sums it up.
     ALSO, My bloody cammies ripped. I hate the dryers here. I'm going to have to find a seamstress.


Sunday, November 18, 2012

Subject to Scheduling

I have decided once again to attempt at writing a new post every week. This may be done on weekends, and in turn you may submit it to me for further editing and a subsequent posting. Accepting offers range in topic from this to that, and may be turned in as early as Monday and as late as whenever I stop snoring. This concludes the discussion, now time for Q&A.

Stephen: Seriously, what will the topics be?
Stephen: I don't care. I'm just writing for the sake of using my intelligence again. I missed my brain too much, and now I realize that it's constant usage may just save me from the inexplicable boredom that has obnubilated my existence. They might be about writing. Gaming. Videos. Pictures. Thoughts, topics, sexuality, atheism, religion, culture, language, dragons, dungeons, pretty girls and the lion, the witch, and a ring called precocious.

Stephen: When will you write these?
Stephen: Whenever I darn well feel like it. Under the parameters, of course, those being once a week at the least. So it might be 3 weeks from now when I write my next one, what ho!

No, I'll try to keep it at once a week. If my body doesn't give out before then I don't know what I'll do. I shall attempt, I think, to find a convenient time to kill a man and then use the remainder of my time in prison to work out a schedule for completing a novel, as well.

Stephen: What inspired you to do this?
Stephen: Well, I thought to myself a way to be creative with this newfound energy for writing and looked to my love for guidance. She writes. Constantly. Actually, she's writing a novel right now for NaNoWriMo (she also inspired me to do that as well, although I'm having much worse luck at it.) You could say that she was my inspiration, but really it's been a combination of new freedom, boredom, interest in her, and my own personal dream of writing a novel. I think that sums it about up.

Stephen: Does the internal monologue stop when you stop writing it out?
Stephen: ...

FUCK no.

On that note, good night, all. I miss you. I love you. Hold me. Kiss me tenderly on the neck... GAAAH! Stop it! Seriously, f***ing good night. Go to sleep already, why are you still here?

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