Let's all take a step back and take a deep breath. Ahhh, how does that feel? Better? It should, because the Eagles are still going to make the playoffs. Yes, I know, they should have beaten the Cowboys last night, and that should have basically solidified their playoff berth. They choked. A lot of people are blaming the loss on Mark Sanchez, and he can definitely be blamed, but our main problem was our secondary defense.
On Thanksgiving the Eagles beat the Cowboys 33-10. We scored 27 points last night (and definitely could have/should have scored more), which means if we performed the same as Thanksgiving, all else remaining the same, we would have won 27-10, right? Even if we scored another touchdown (plus an extra point or likely two-point conversion if we were able to get one) we still would have lost by 3 or 4 scoring 1 to 2 more points than the previous time we played the Cowboys.
No one is ever going to figure out why the Eagles kept putting Fletcher on Dez Bryant. Moreover, no one will ever know why the Eagles didn't decide to double-team Dez Bryant, a super-star receiver who ended the game with 3 TDs and countless yards, and pick different poisons such as Beasley and Witten. As my dad said to me, especially after we roared all the way back from 21-0 to be winning at one point 24-21, a slow-bleed would have been easier to contain than allowing for big plays against the two stars on their team--namely WR Bryant and RB Murray, who, bee tee dubs, accounted for 5 of their 5 touchdowns.
Ok, so, to recap, we made a lot of mistakes. I think coaching played a role in the poor performance just as much as some poor play did. Especially since we practically gave the Cowboys their first 7 points by forgetting that a kick-off needs to be returned--I'm not saying that was a coaching issue specifically, but how could that happen professionally ever? I'm not sure, but again, it was a collaboratively crappy effort.
Now for the good news. The good news is that we play our two other crappy division rivals, the Washington Redskins this weekend (Saturday), and then we finish the season against the New York Giants in two weeks. I'm not saying these are definite wins. They're not. But they should be. Somehow either of those teams could wake up from their slumber and decide to play great ball. It could happen. If it happened at all, it's probably most likely to happen against the Giants because Eli Manning was good once. With all that being said, I think it's a lot easier to see the Eagles going 2-0 against this competition than anything else. Let's say that happens.
The Cowboys finish the season against the Colts this weekend (Sunday) and the Redskins next weekend. For the Cowboys, both of those games are lose-able. At this point in the season, the Colts are a considerably better contender than the Redskins, but the Redskins beat the Cowboys earlier in the season, so I think anything is possible on those fronts. At the very least, we need to root for the Colts this weekend. I don't think it'll be as close as most will suggest, but either way I see the Colts winning that game. If we go 2 and 0 while the Cowboys go 1 and 1, we win the division--even though we'd be tied in wins and losses--because we'll have more division wins, which counts as the tiebreaker.
So, yippy, we make the playoffs. What? That doesn't make you happy, yet? Good. That brings us back to the bad news.
The REAL bad news, and it should come as no surprise to Eagles fans and fans around the league, is that the Eagles are not ready to be Super Bowl Champions. It's a shame. It really is. But I don't think they have it yet. They're really close. They are. But it's clear that they need some loose chains switched with new, stronger ones. Seeing how Sanchez has been playing, everyone already wants Nick Foles back, as if his playing was all that much better before he got injured. Stop. Fooling. Yourselves. As always, I'd love to be wrong about this, but I don't tend to be when history is on my side--we've never won a Super Bowl.
2013 Nick Foles was way better than 2014 Nick Foles. If 2014 Nick Foles started playing like 2013 Nick Foles, then I'd want Nick Foles back under center weeks ago. That's not really true, though. Mark Sanchez is playing better than he did with the Jets. The system that Chip Kelly runs IS better for him. And Sanchez does something better than Nick Foles within the scheme: He steps up in the pocket. Sanchez did that the very first game he jumped in under center after Foles got injured and he hasn't stopped doing that unlike Nick Foles, who did that in 2013, but stopped doing that in 2014.
Of course we want to see our city's team have a chance. And although I like ice hockey considerably more than football, I think the city's general consensus, after shitty Sixers and Phillies seasons, and a potential shitty Flyers season in the making, is that we want to see one of our effing teams reach the playoffs so we can oggle at them with false hope.
That's fine. I understand. Here's hoping?
- PatInTheHat
Editor's note: I have a huge project that is due for my accounting masters this Friday, and then I graduate! (Woo!) Therefore, you won't be seeing much of me until this weekend or at the beginning of next week, which is also why I decided to make two posts for today =)
Monday, December 15, 2014
BREAKING NEWS
WAYNE, PA - Firefighter families were still decently apathetic today when they learned that 36-year-old Philadelphia native Ken Kendrick was never saved by firefighters from his house located just outside King of Prussia mall that triggered a two-alarm fire earlier this morning. At approx. 3am officials said Kendrick called to alert the town firemen that his house was "practically engulfed" and there was no way he could survive without help.
We caught up with the first fireman, Jim Henson of Ladder 19, who made it on the scene with his crew of 2 others.
"It really wasn't all that bad," Henson said, "I just really wasn't feeling it. I definitely could have saved the guy, but I was out really late last night. Me and the guys only had about 3 hours of sleep when the alarm to come to this fire went off inside the station. About 20 minutes later, ya know, after we arrived and after a cup of coffee, we felt good enough to go inside the nearly-incinerated house to see if Mr. Kendrick was still alive. When we found Mr. Kendrick, he was unconscious--likely from smoke inhalation. We weren't too sure if he was dead at that point, so we figured it might be best to push him closer to the fire and let the high temperatures do the rest." The other firemen were not available for comment.
"It really wasn't all that bad," Henson said, "I just really wasn't feeling it. I definitely could have saved the guy, but I was out really late last night. Me and the guys only had about 3 hours of sleep when the alarm to come to this fire went off inside the station. About 20 minutes later, ya know, after we arrived and after a cup of coffee, we felt good enough to go inside the nearly-incinerated house to see if Mr. Kendrick was still alive. When we found Mr. Kendrick, he was unconscious--likely from smoke inhalation. We weren't too sure if he was dead at that point, so we figured it might be best to push him closer to the fire and let the high temperatures do the rest." The other firemen were not available for comment.
This happening only two and a half weeks after the fire-debacle in Richmond, VA where two--a mother and father--in a family of five, died while three surviving members: two sons and a daughter, were left battered and bruised. Fire-Captain Harvey Killmawr was video-recorded by the children beating their parents to death--a video that has since been uploaded to the internet--while they thought the fireman was there to save them.
In an interview late last week with a CBS affiliate, Renee Jenkins, daughter of the parents that were deemed "killed by fire" in the Richmond 3-alarm house-fire, told reporters, "It was horrifying!"
"I can only imagine! Fires are very dangerous!" the reporter, Diane Fox, interjected vehemently.
"I can only imagine! Fires are very dangerous!" the reporter, Diane Fox, interjected vehemently.
"No, no, not the fire, the firefighter who(m) was beating our parents to death! After them (my parents), he found a way to get to us, a room over, through the flames. My brothers, Dillon and Joey, noticed that one of our side-windows was beginning to crack from the fire, so right before the fireman got to us they went to save themselves and broke through the glass. I was with them but wasn't as swift, so the fireman caught me, but instead of hurting me he brought me through more flames and to safety outside. I had no idea what was going on!"
As Renee began to cry hysterically, the CBS affiliate blacked-out the rest of the interview.
Since then, protests began in big cities around the country in support of the deaths of Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins. People from Seattle, WA to Jacksonville, FL showed up with signs outside of their city halls demanding that firemen be held to higher standards.
"This is unbelievable," Vince Gallifrey, a Richmond protester announced, "I had no idea firemen, hired to fight fires and save lives, could waltz into someone's house and (allegedly) kill people for no reason!"
"Otha' then these protestas being really inconvenient to the rest of us hard working people, I don' see what the big problem is," Boston native and wife of a fireman, Leah Bartoli, remarked, "Listen, fiafightas should be respected no matta' what happens. These protestas are absolutely pathetic, if'ya ask me. They betta' not call my Johnny the next time 'dey gotta fia. 'Dey can burn in hell f'all I care."
"Otha' then these protestas being really inconvenient to the rest of us hard working people, I don' see what the big problem is," Boston native and wife of a fireman, Leah Bartoli, remarked, "Listen, fiafightas should be respected no matta' what happens. These protestas are absolutely pathetic, if'ya ask me. They betta' not call my Johnny the next time 'dey gotta fia. 'Dey can burn in hell f'all I care."
Harvey Killmawr has yet to be indicted for his alleged heinous acts, but after talking with Richmond Fire Chief Henry Dumbourne there seems to be no worry of that potential.
"Oh, this is a slam-dunk case," Dumbourne told reporters last Thursday, "Fire-Captain Killmawr entered the emblazoned home and did whatever he could to get everyone in the house to safety. I thank God that he was able to save Renee."
There's no telling what will happen to fireman Jim Henson and his crew after what seems to be yet another fire-catastrophe. On-lookers have provided mixed emotions over this developing story as it looks like Jim and his crew are the only surviving members and witnesses of this story.
"Wow," neighbor Pete O'Leary empathetically resounded, "when something like this happens so close to home it really opens your eyes. If what they are saying is true about this fire and the fire down in Virginia, then this country may have a serious problem on it's hands."
"Oh, here we go," retired fire-captain Keith Hunter angrily stated with beer-in-hand, "Now, I'm going to have to hear about how awful firefighters are for the next who-knows-how-long. There is NO WAY these allegations are true--and that video from a couple weeks ago was edited to make it LOOK like the firefighter was beating people senseless. Firefighters never act outside of proper conduct, and, frankly anyone who thinks otherwise is just stupid."
No firefighters have yet to be arrested for these events. The Jenkins' siblings are in the beginning processes of taking their case to court against Harvey Killmawr. No word, yet, from the family members of Ken Kendrick on whether they will file a lawsuit against Ladder 19 or Jim Henson with the local authority.
More on this as it develops.
- PatInTheFireHat
Thursday, December 11, 2014
Shhh, I'm Reading
Who doesn't love a good book? When I was younger, I hated reading books. It was never because I couldn't read. In fact, at a very young age, I was reading better than most of the kids in my grade. Well, I can't prove that as true, but, at the very least, I could read out loud better than most. I really hated reading books that were given to us as students for assignments. "Here," the teacher would start out saying--this next part is paraphrased, "read this terrible book that you'll hate so we can talk about it in class next week." Because I hated these books, my reading comprehension was sub-par. Most times I'd fall asleep while reading, or lose so much concentration while reading that I'd get through ten pages and not remember a single thing. When I'd come to from my haze, I'd realize I was on page 80 even though I swear I was just on 70 of a book that has a title I had already forgotten about.
Aside from those books, I actually enjoyed reading. There are books like A Wrinkle in Time that I loved as a kid and still love to this day. I read books like Sidhartha, too. If I was really interested in a read, then I could read a book, or even a textbook, and remember almost every nook and cranny about it. In high school, I read a TON of books. We didn't have a choice. If I didn't have a 5 page paper on a book for some class--it didn't have to be English class--then it was a miracle. But most of the books we were told to read in high school, minus maybe Shakespearean text, I loved. I read Dante's Inferno, The Tipping Point,* Gulliver's Travels, Oedipus, etc. All of them were memorable, and all of them I loved.
I don't really read a lot of books now. There are books I WANT to read,** but I don't have a ton of time between all the things going on in my life. Instead, I read about everything else circulating on the interwebs. And that brings us to the reason for the title, and the reason I'm writing this post...
I'm an information gatherer. Not only do I gather information that I read, word-reading that is, but I also gather information about people. (Going back to the bonus game in my first post: I strictly love knowledge) No two people are the same. We all know that, but what's fascinating is that despite no two people being the same, those same people can share the same tendencies. As I've been told numerous times, it's not necessarily fair to guess how someone is thinking or feeling based on someone else we've come in contact with that exhibits similar body language, but the odds are in our favor if we do.
All of us humans like believing this one thing about ourselves: We're unique. We stand out. We are similar to no one. In a lot of ways that is definitely true, but in a lot more ways that is definitely not so true. That doesn't mean we're not unique in our own right. We are, definitely, our own self. However, humans are creatures of habit. That generally means that we watch other people do activities, and then we mimic their activities. This is sort of how smoking cigarettes, weed, and any other recreational drug became "cool." On the less potentially detrimental side of the spectrum, this is also how we became good people. We grew up watching our parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends, etc. behave in a certain way, and then we, along with our own unique touch, mimicked these activities, emotions, etc. to form our own personalities.
Knowing these things, it's not ridiculous to think that you, the reader reading this post, have a personality similar to your parents or whoever else raised you. It's also not ridiculous to think that you have molded that learned personality a bit through your friends, significant others, colleagues, etc. over the years. Hell, maybe you were even influenced by a favorite actor, favorite character, favorite musical artist and the like. I know I've been influenced by all of the above one way or another. This is actually one of the reasons why certain video games and movies have ratings like "R" or "Mature." A good majority of people believe that kids/people can be negatively (or positively, but positive influences aren't the problem) influenced. I think it's true. I'm not a psychologist or a psychiatrist, but human behavior is super fascinating to me.
I've seen people change in an instance (seriously). Are all people that unpredictable? No, absolutely not--though it should be noted that I had to re-learn that, and it took me quite some time. When I am sitting in silence, which I understand that is a rare occurrence for many of you, I'm reading. I'm reading situations. I'm reading people: Their body language. Every body speaks differently in given situations, but sometimes people speak the exact same language without saying a word. Yes, I pay attention. And a lot of times I can relate to someone's language. That's why on some occasions when you're at a party or a larger gathering and you see your friend behaving a certain way: like alienating themselves, getting rowdy, looking disengaged, you go up to them. Now, you first probably ask them if they're OK, but you already know the answer before they say it. You do these things--we do these things--because either you've seen it before, like learning from experience, or you've experienced a similar emotion and probably fancied similar body language to go along with it.
Assuming that everybody exhibits the same emotions in any given situation as you or even other friends that have been in similar situations is not necessarily the way to go, but the odds are definitely in your favor. Some people are different, though. REALLY different. I don't include these people in the sample space of people I've come in contact over the course of my life, because they ARE unpredictable. Truly unpredictable. People that you think you can trust at first, and then realize you can't over time. I'm not talking about the friendships that grow apart because of age, different jobs, different living circumstances, etc. I'm talking about people who buy you a cake for your birthday, but end up being a serial killer. That's a bit of an exaggerated scenario, but I think you get my point.
Ultimately, every single person you come in contact with is life lesson. They might be terrible people. they may also be amazing people. Either way, you learn from them, and then you use that knowledge to make decisions about people and situations later down the line. That's just human nature.
Sometimes relaxing and taking a second to read is important. No, you don't want to over-step, though it can happen on accident, but without giving it a try, you may come across disinterested.
*Shrugs* Generally, in my experience, people care more that you're giving the effort in getting to know them than whether you're right or wrong about how they're doing or feeling.
Thought for food.
- PatInTheHat
*If you have not read this book by Malcolm Gladwell, I highly recommend it. This was given to me as a read in my Junior-year English class, and it shows the progression, and in some cases the regression, of our economic system.
**Especially if it's anything from John Green's hands.
Aside from those books, I actually enjoyed reading. There are books like A Wrinkle in Time that I loved as a kid and still love to this day. I read books like Sidhartha, too. If I was really interested in a read, then I could read a book, or even a textbook, and remember almost every nook and cranny about it. In high school, I read a TON of books. We didn't have a choice. If I didn't have a 5 page paper on a book for some class--it didn't have to be English class--then it was a miracle. But most of the books we were told to read in high school, minus maybe Shakespearean text, I loved. I read Dante's Inferno, The Tipping Point,* Gulliver's Travels, Oedipus, etc. All of them were memorable, and all of them I loved.
I don't really read a lot of books now. There are books I WANT to read,** but I don't have a ton of time between all the things going on in my life. Instead, I read about everything else circulating on the interwebs. And that brings us to the reason for the title, and the reason I'm writing this post...
I'm an information gatherer. Not only do I gather information that I read, word-reading that is, but I also gather information about people. (Going back to the bonus game in my first post: I strictly love knowledge) No two people are the same. We all know that, but what's fascinating is that despite no two people being the same, those same people can share the same tendencies. As I've been told numerous times, it's not necessarily fair to guess how someone is thinking or feeling based on someone else we've come in contact with that exhibits similar body language, but the odds are in our favor if we do.
All of us humans like believing this one thing about ourselves: We're unique. We stand out. We are similar to no one. In a lot of ways that is definitely true, but in a lot more ways that is definitely not so true. That doesn't mean we're not unique in our own right. We are, definitely, our own self. However, humans are creatures of habit. That generally means that we watch other people do activities, and then we mimic their activities. This is sort of how smoking cigarettes, weed, and any other recreational drug became "cool." On the less potentially detrimental side of the spectrum, this is also how we became good people. We grew up watching our parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, friends, etc. behave in a certain way, and then we, along with our own unique touch, mimicked these activities, emotions, etc. to form our own personalities.
Knowing these things, it's not ridiculous to think that you, the reader reading this post, have a personality similar to your parents or whoever else raised you. It's also not ridiculous to think that you have molded that learned personality a bit through your friends, significant others, colleagues, etc. over the years. Hell, maybe you were even influenced by a favorite actor, favorite character, favorite musical artist and the like. I know I've been influenced by all of the above one way or another. This is actually one of the reasons why certain video games and movies have ratings like "R" or "Mature." A good majority of people believe that kids/people can be negatively (or positively, but positive influences aren't the problem) influenced. I think it's true. I'm not a psychologist or a psychiatrist, but human behavior is super fascinating to me.
I've seen people change in an instance (seriously). Are all people that unpredictable? No, absolutely not--though it should be noted that I had to re-learn that, and it took me quite some time. When I am sitting in silence, which I understand that is a rare occurrence for many of you, I'm reading. I'm reading situations. I'm reading people: Their body language. Every body speaks differently in given situations, but sometimes people speak the exact same language without saying a word. Yes, I pay attention. And a lot of times I can relate to someone's language. That's why on some occasions when you're at a party or a larger gathering and you see your friend behaving a certain way: like alienating themselves, getting rowdy, looking disengaged, you go up to them. Now, you first probably ask them if they're OK, but you already know the answer before they say it. You do these things--we do these things--because either you've seen it before, like learning from experience, or you've experienced a similar emotion and probably fancied similar body language to go along with it.
Assuming that everybody exhibits the same emotions in any given situation as you or even other friends that have been in similar situations is not necessarily the way to go, but the odds are definitely in your favor. Some people are different, though. REALLY different. I don't include these people in the sample space of people I've come in contact over the course of my life, because they ARE unpredictable. Truly unpredictable. People that you think you can trust at first, and then realize you can't over time. I'm not talking about the friendships that grow apart because of age, different jobs, different living circumstances, etc. I'm talking about people who buy you a cake for your birthday, but end up being a serial killer. That's a bit of an exaggerated scenario, but I think you get my point.
Ultimately, every single person you come in contact with is life lesson. They might be terrible people. they may also be amazing people. Either way, you learn from them, and then you use that knowledge to make decisions about people and situations later down the line. That's just human nature.
Sometimes relaxing and taking a second to read is important. No, you don't want to over-step, though it can happen on accident, but without giving it a try, you may come across disinterested.
*Shrugs* Generally, in my experience, people care more that you're giving the effort in getting to know them than whether you're right or wrong about how they're doing or feeling.
Thought for food.
- PatInTheHat
*If you have not read this book by Malcolm Gladwell, I highly recommend it. This was given to me as a read in my Junior-year English class, and it shows the progression, and in some cases the regression, of our economic system.
**Especially if it's anything from John Green's hands.
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
Ya Know What? Just Kill Everyone - Grumpy Pat Edition Pt. 2
After many arguments and debates about the recent killings of unarmed minorities, I think I've come up with a solution that'll make everyone happy: National genocide.
After all, who doesn't love the smell of napalm and dead carcass in the morning? Well, we'd all be dead, so it would be kinda hard to smell, but I'm sure Putin would agree that the smell rekindles a long-lost sense of victory and accomplishment that the rest of the world hasn't felt in 200 years. I mean, let's be honest,* the world would be filled with glee if us "wanks" were wiped out.
Neighboring nations and other "allies" are looking on as we slowly obliterate ourselves in the form of a terrible authoritative system and those filthy liberals who only care about stopping traffic and causing a ruckus! Don't those pathetic liberals realize that we have jobs to get to? I mean, come-on, can't they think of more convenient, less-newsworthy ways to protest? It's almost like they WANT to get recognized for their appalling behavior. Pleh, to them! Oh, and don't even get me started on emergency services! Don't those annoying, juvenile protesters understand there's only one way to get to a building or a house in a city?! They can't actually expect that ambulance drivers and firefighters know more than one route to get to the same place! THAT is just ABSOLUTELY ridiculous. And don't even get me STARTED (...again. Restarted?) on the inability to receive my large pepperoni pizza in under 30 minutes! THAT'S a REAL emergency!
*Takes deep breath*
I'm sorry, I, uhh, I lost my cool there. *Takes two Vicodin*
All of this behavior needs to be put to a resounding halt! Time for geno...
...Wait a sec. *reading newspaper quietly, but audibly...* Columbia law students...dadadah...are asking for their exams to be postponed and....and the professors are allowing it?!** What is this shit?! Oh, I see, a couple of black people die and then EVERYBODY JUST STOP TAKING TESTS!? Oh, and look, those stupid, repulsive kids from Harvard and Georgetown law are following in their footsteps. That's. Just. Great. Talk about a system failure, right? Those moronic "Ivy League"--more like Derderder League-- professors have to be out of their minds. You're teaching THE LAW! Don't you know what that means? It means you need to teach the law as is--no deviations! So what if the Grand Jury in NY and Ferguson was wrong. The law did what the law does!
*Turns on Fox News* Oh, there we go, see? These guys get it. They also think that the students and professors are acting stupid. Haha, I know, right? The one blonde-haired, female news anchor just talked about how ridiculous it is for professors to allow their students to postpone tests. These kids are IDIOTS! You only need like, what, a 2 point Oh or something like that in undergrad to get into Columbia Law OR Harvard Law. These kids aren't smart, that's why they went to Law school, people! They certainly didn't involve themselves in chess clubs or other brain-testing activities in undergrad. Those activities are left for smart people. Which they are not. It's not like they are making protest-like chess moves, people. They're just grieving. Give them a tissue already, and get their asses back in the classroom!
That's it: It's time for genocide. Get out the nukes, Obama, I can't take it anymore. It'll be the one good thing you do as president. I'll go down, too, but at least those vomit-inducing liberals will go down first--they're not as strong as conservatives, after all!
* Just a friendly reminder that this is another satire piece, which means I'm being aggressively sarcastic. Why? Because I'm a filthy, stupid, pathetic liberal. Duh.
**http://www.buzzfeed.com/tamerragriffin/columbia-law-school-students-seek-relief-over-trauma-of-gran -- Here's a link to the Columbia story I'm sarcastically belittling in this post.
Quick side note about the aforementioned: As a serious point, I'd like to note that these students and professors alike from the schools mentioned are very intelligent. I'm not saying they are necessarily rocket-scientists, but they are doing this, and the teachers are allowing it, FOR A REASON. It's another way of protesting, people. I honestly believe they have an ulterior motive with these kinds of actions, and I love seeing it.
- GrumpyPatInTheHat
After all, who doesn't love the smell of napalm and dead carcass in the morning? Well, we'd all be dead, so it would be kinda hard to smell, but I'm sure Putin would agree that the smell rekindles a long-lost sense of victory and accomplishment that the rest of the world hasn't felt in 200 years. I mean, let's be honest,* the world would be filled with glee if us "wanks" were wiped out.
Neighboring nations and other "allies" are looking on as we slowly obliterate ourselves in the form of a terrible authoritative system and those filthy liberals who only care about stopping traffic and causing a ruckus! Don't those pathetic liberals realize that we have jobs to get to? I mean, come-on, can't they think of more convenient, less-newsworthy ways to protest? It's almost like they WANT to get recognized for their appalling behavior. Pleh, to them! Oh, and don't even get me started on emergency services! Don't those annoying, juvenile protesters understand there's only one way to get to a building or a house in a city?! They can't actually expect that ambulance drivers and firefighters know more than one route to get to the same place! THAT is just ABSOLUTELY ridiculous. And don't even get me STARTED (...again. Restarted?) on the inability to receive my large pepperoni pizza in under 30 minutes! THAT'S a REAL emergency!
*Takes deep breath*
I'm sorry, I, uhh, I lost my cool there. *Takes two Vicodin*
All of this behavior needs to be put to a resounding halt! Time for geno...
...Wait a sec. *reading newspaper quietly, but audibly...* Columbia law students...dadadah...are asking for their exams to be postponed and....and the professors are allowing it?!** What is this shit?! Oh, I see, a couple of black people die and then EVERYBODY JUST STOP TAKING TESTS!? Oh, and look, those stupid, repulsive kids from Harvard and Georgetown law are following in their footsteps. That's. Just. Great. Talk about a system failure, right? Those moronic "Ivy League"--more like Derderder League-- professors have to be out of their minds. You're teaching THE LAW! Don't you know what that means? It means you need to teach the law as is--no deviations! So what if the Grand Jury in NY and Ferguson was wrong. The law did what the law does!
*Turns on Fox News* Oh, there we go, see? These guys get it. They also think that the students and professors are acting stupid. Haha, I know, right? The one blonde-haired, female news anchor just talked about how ridiculous it is for professors to allow their students to postpone tests. These kids are IDIOTS! You only need like, what, a 2 point Oh or something like that in undergrad to get into Columbia Law OR Harvard Law. These kids aren't smart, that's why they went to Law school, people! They certainly didn't involve themselves in chess clubs or other brain-testing activities in undergrad. Those activities are left for smart people. Which they are not. It's not like they are making protest-like chess moves, people. They're just grieving. Give them a tissue already, and get their asses back in the classroom!
That's it: It's time for genocide. Get out the nukes, Obama, I can't take it anymore. It'll be the one good thing you do as president. I'll go down, too, but at least those vomit-inducing liberals will go down first--they're not as strong as conservatives, after all!
* Just a friendly reminder that this is another satire piece, which means I'm being aggressively sarcastic. Why? Because I'm a filthy, stupid, pathetic liberal. Duh.
**http://www.buzzfeed.com/tamerragriffin/columbia-law-school-students-seek-relief-over-trauma-of-gran -- Here's a link to the Columbia story I'm sarcastically belittling in this post.
Quick side note about the aforementioned: As a serious point, I'd like to note that these students and professors alike from the schools mentioned are very intelligent. I'm not saying they are necessarily rocket-scientists, but they are doing this, and the teachers are allowing it, FOR A REASON. It's another way of protesting, people. I honestly believe they have an ulterior motive with these kinds of actions, and I love seeing it.
- GrumpyPatInTheHat
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
Did You Enjoy The Show?
I was such a good little kid before I was 19. Life changed for me a lot subsequent to turning 19, and that was mostly because the people I surrounded myself with helped me grow up and try new things--explore new places. And by new places I mean all those adult-y places. Those places you only hear about and imagine when you're a teenager; for instance, bars, clubs, raves, etc. As I got closer to 21, I became more curious of these places. Once I turned 21, it was time.
Curiosity killed this cat.
Bars? They were fine! Wanna drink? Let's drink! *Does "woo girl" impersonation* Certain clubs? Pfft, shut up, and dance with me, am-I-right?
But there were other places. Scary places. Places that you think you'd be OK with, but in actuality not so much. Places that you could probably go to if you wanted to, but you really needed that experienced friend to kinda nudge you, egg you on a bit to go. That was me, who needed to be nudged. Naive me. After the bars and the clubs I thought, "Pfft, I can do ANYthing!" But, then, one night--one dark, dreary, rainy summer night, when the wolves came out to prey on the weak--someone finally said it, "Wanna hit a strip club? *CRACK OF THUNDER!*"
"Pfft, sure, why not?" I inquired with confidence as my friend looked on.
"Let's hit Daydreams," he said with a wry smile, as if to signify that he's been to every strip club this side of the Mississip'.
"Yeah, I mean, whatever. I don't know these places, so if you think that's a good idea, let's do this!"
And there he went. Stupid two-years-younger me setting out on a journey that could only end in one of two ways: Me having an interesting evening--after all, new experiences could be good--or me being absolutely mortified. You can probably guess by my tone that it couldn't have been the former scenario. You'd be right.
"That'll be $25 for the guys, and $10 for the lady," said the bouncer looking on. We went with my then-girlfriend just to make things more awkward. She's not important to the story, but what's important is the $15 DISPARITY BETWEEN BEING A MAN AND A WOMAN GOING TO A STRIP CLUB. HOLY HELL!
"Yeah, here's my arm," I retorted sarcastically while in process of taking out my month's allowance.
At this point I look up at the sign and it says, "Daydreams. We wear nothing but a smile =D"
Was I excited? No, actually, at this point I was annoyed by the slogan. We walk inside.
____________________
It was like a porn wonderland for people who didn't have access to internet. There were naked girls as far as the eye could see thrusting their vaginas in the faces of their audiences. My buddy takes me and the gee eff to sit right by a "show." This show could have been called "gyrating vagina." It's got a nice ring, yeah? I was wearing a baseball-cap--it might as well have been a seat-belt. Side note: if you want your face thrust into the chest of a performer BY a performer, then don't wear a hat. At first, I regretted that decision, but after everything else I was witnessing, I was pretty content with my hat.
It think I was half-living a nightmare. I was a straight man inside of a place every straight man should be OK with being in (according to the majority of society), but this was too much for me. I was half in a daze. A performer comes up to our part of the railing that separates performers from the audience and she says, "Did you enjoy the show?" My friend and the giffle were quick to respond with a resounding, "Oh yeah!" But I was frozen. Frozen in time. Letting it go was not an option. I nodded with eyes like this: O.O
After the performer walked past, I whisper to my compatriots, "Can...can we go now?"
"But we've only been here for 15 minutes," my friend callously replies. I half-glare at him. We leave.
Needless to say, I won't be doing that again. It was a strange experience (for me, clearly). Looking around the room, there were so many strange men. And I say that, because these strange men were older, and, by their disheveled looks, seemed to forget that there's a life beyond strip-clubs. I felt like I was temporarily a part of a "MAN'S" club. If this is what it meant to be a man, then I never wanted any part of it. I respect the women who use the platform for employment. Their courage is greater than mine. But this place felt like the Twilight Zone to me.
But, hey, at least I experienced it, right?
Yeah...Positive thinking.
- PatInTheHat
Curiosity killed this cat.
Bars? They were fine! Wanna drink? Let's drink! *Does "woo girl" impersonation* Certain clubs? Pfft, shut up, and dance with me, am-I-right?
But there were other places. Scary places. Places that you think you'd be OK with, but in actuality not so much. Places that you could probably go to if you wanted to, but you really needed that experienced friend to kinda nudge you, egg you on a bit to go. That was me, who needed to be nudged. Naive me. After the bars and the clubs I thought, "Pfft, I can do ANYthing!" But, then, one night--one dark, dreary, rainy summer night, when the wolves came out to prey on the weak--someone finally said it, "Wanna hit a strip club? *CRACK OF THUNDER!*"
"Pfft, sure, why not?" I inquired with confidence as my friend looked on.
"Let's hit Daydreams," he said with a wry smile, as if to signify that he's been to every strip club this side of the Mississip'.
"Yeah, I mean, whatever. I don't know these places, so if you think that's a good idea, let's do this!"
And there he went. Stupid two-years-younger me setting out on a journey that could only end in one of two ways: Me having an interesting evening--after all, new experiences could be good--or me being absolutely mortified. You can probably guess by my tone that it couldn't have been the former scenario. You'd be right.
"That'll be $25 for the guys, and $10 for the lady," said the bouncer looking on. We went with my then-girlfriend just to make things more awkward. She's not important to the story, but what's important is the $15 DISPARITY BETWEEN BEING A MAN AND A WOMAN GOING TO A STRIP CLUB. HOLY HELL!
"Yeah, here's my arm," I retorted sarcastically while in process of taking out my month's allowance.
At this point I look up at the sign and it says, "Daydreams. We wear nothing but a smile =D"
Was I excited? No, actually, at this point I was annoyed by the slogan. We walk inside.
____________________
It was like a porn wonderland for people who didn't have access to internet. There were naked girls as far as the eye could see thrusting their vaginas in the faces of their audiences. My buddy takes me and the gee eff to sit right by a "show." This show could have been called "gyrating vagina." It's got a nice ring, yeah? I was wearing a baseball-cap--it might as well have been a seat-belt. Side note: if you want your face thrust into the chest of a performer BY a performer, then don't wear a hat. At first, I regretted that decision, but after everything else I was witnessing, I was pretty content with my hat.
It think I was half-living a nightmare. I was a straight man inside of a place every straight man should be OK with being in (according to the majority of society), but this was too much for me. I was half in a daze. A performer comes up to our part of the railing that separates performers from the audience and she says, "Did you enjoy the show?" My friend and the giffle were quick to respond with a resounding, "Oh yeah!" But I was frozen. Frozen in time. Letting it go was not an option. I nodded with eyes like this: O.O
After the performer walked past, I whisper to my compatriots, "Can...can we go now?"
"But we've only been here for 15 minutes," my friend callously replies. I half-glare at him. We leave.
Needless to say, I won't be doing that again. It was a strange experience (for me, clearly). Looking around the room, there were so many strange men. And I say that, because these strange men were older, and, by their disheveled looks, seemed to forget that there's a life beyond strip-clubs. I felt like I was temporarily a part of a "MAN'S" club. If this is what it meant to be a man, then I never wanted any part of it. I respect the women who use the platform for employment. Their courage is greater than mine. But this place felt like the Twilight Zone to me.
But, hey, at least I experienced it, right?
Yeah...Positive thinking.
- PatInTheHat
Monday, December 8, 2014
You Are Fine
This culture is getting exhausting. Don't you think? I feel like every time I blink someone, for whatever social construct they care to represent, is trying to one up someone else or others in a social construct that is adjacent or, at minimum, dissimilar to their own.
What the hell is going on?!
There's a lot of social issues going on right now, such as the Ferguson/Staten Island-related protests, and for good reason. But I'm not talking so much about the BIG topics. I'm talking more about the other, less talked about areas: big and small, tall and short, fat and skinny, strong and weak. The topics of which are still regarded one way or another and are used as a muse for musical artists. (I find that there's a stark contrast between a musical artist and a musician, and I'll decide later in this post whether or not I feel that's a relevant topic to discuss. For now, just understand why I didn't simply say "musician" to finish that last sentence.) And then what happens after one of these artists expresses their displeasure of another social construct? Yup. You guessed it. A member of a different social construct rebuts in a half-scathing kind of way.
This vicious circle keeps going until everyone's head explodes.
So, with that said, let's clear something up: You're fine. You're so perfectly fine in your perfect way. You are you. How you look is regarded as negative or positive in this society, but those judgments are all bullshit (more so the negative ones). The main reason people act this way is because there is something they hold self-consciously about themselves that they can't get over on their own. So, instead of having good friends to listen to them, or seeking some much-needed counseling, they just berate others to make themselves (temporarily) feel better. I feel for these people. They are the prototypical bully that we encounter in grade school and high school. They made us feel like shit growing up. So much so that we're either extreme introverts or we just hate people, mostly. They screwed around with us because there were deeper underlying issues going on in their lives i.e. they had abusive parents, they had dead/dying parents, their parents were alcoholics/druggies, etc.
Knowing these things, let them be abrasive. Let them throw those word-stones. You know you better than anyone knows you. When we were younger, we held on to every word as truth. We didn't know ourselves yet, because we were young and stupid. Any time someone called us a "stupid little doofus-head" before the age of, like, 10, we took those words seriously. Like, "Man, I HAVE to be a stupid little doofus-head, because someone told me I am!" When we were younger we probably were stupid little doofus-heads, but that's besides the point.
Today, we're all adults (if non-adults are reading this, then, sorry, you're not an adult. Also, finish reading this--because it'll help you, too--and then go do homework or something). If someone calls you a weak little shit as an adult, or implies that you're fat, or implies that you turn invisible when you turn sideways because of your skinny nature, let them! (Personally, I tend to laugh at these words, because life is absurd and so are people.) But don't let them GET to you. They're all stupid social constructs that society created to belittle or berate others anyway. Yeah, it's easier said than done seeing it this way, I know. It's especially hard when these words are hurled at us by loved ones i.e. parents, spouses, best friends, etc. But that vicious circle I mentioned needs to end.
Quit retaliating! It's silly! It's useless! It's silluselessy! And, plus, it spreads the one thing we're trying to vanquish ultimately: Hatred. Sometimes the best weapon against these emotionally less fortunate people is silence. Smile and nod at whatever negative bs they hurl towards you. If you do this, trust me, they'll stew in it. They won't get the fix of someone else's displeasure to make them feel (temporarily) better and then, once they realize that berating other people doesn't work for them, they'll soon figure out that they need help to fix their problems. Real help. It just takes one person at a time to help break that circle-- and this creates real, tangible change.
In conclusion, you are fine. You are so fine. You are you. What makes you what you are should make you happy. I'm sure you've heard stuff like this before, but it's not said enough! You are so perfectly you, and there's no one else in the world like you. You're different! You're weird! Love it!
"Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you"
- PatInTheHat
What the hell is going on?!
There's a lot of social issues going on right now, such as the Ferguson/Staten Island-related protests, and for good reason. But I'm not talking so much about the BIG topics. I'm talking more about the other, less talked about areas: big and small, tall and short, fat and skinny, strong and weak. The topics of which are still regarded one way or another and are used as a muse for musical artists. (I find that there's a stark contrast between a musical artist and a musician, and I'll decide later in this post whether or not I feel that's a relevant topic to discuss. For now, just understand why I didn't simply say "musician" to finish that last sentence.) And then what happens after one of these artists expresses their displeasure of another social construct? Yup. You guessed it. A member of a different social construct rebuts in a half-scathing kind of way.
This vicious circle keeps going until everyone's head explodes.
So, with that said, let's clear something up: You're fine. You're so perfectly fine in your perfect way. You are you. How you look is regarded as negative or positive in this society, but those judgments are all bullshit (more so the negative ones). The main reason people act this way is because there is something they hold self-consciously about themselves that they can't get over on their own. So, instead of having good friends to listen to them, or seeking some much-needed counseling, they just berate others to make themselves (temporarily) feel better. I feel for these people. They are the prototypical bully that we encounter in grade school and high school. They made us feel like shit growing up. So much so that we're either extreme introverts or we just hate people, mostly. They screwed around with us because there were deeper underlying issues going on in their lives i.e. they had abusive parents, they had dead/dying parents, their parents were alcoholics/druggies, etc.
Knowing these things, let them be abrasive. Let them throw those word-stones. You know you better than anyone knows you. When we were younger, we held on to every word as truth. We didn't know ourselves yet, because we were young and stupid. Any time someone called us a "stupid little doofus-head" before the age of, like, 10, we took those words seriously. Like, "Man, I HAVE to be a stupid little doofus-head, because someone told me I am!" When we were younger we probably were stupid little doofus-heads, but that's besides the point.
Today, we're all adults (if non-adults are reading this, then, sorry, you're not an adult. Also, finish reading this--because it'll help you, too--and then go do homework or something). If someone calls you a weak little shit as an adult, or implies that you're fat, or implies that you turn invisible when you turn sideways because of your skinny nature, let them! (Personally, I tend to laugh at these words, because life is absurd and so are people.) But don't let them GET to you. They're all stupid social constructs that society created to belittle or berate others anyway. Yeah, it's easier said than done seeing it this way, I know. It's especially hard when these words are hurled at us by loved ones i.e. parents, spouses, best friends, etc. But that vicious circle I mentioned needs to end.
Quit retaliating! It's silly! It's useless! It's silluselessy! And, plus, it spreads the one thing we're trying to vanquish ultimately: Hatred. Sometimes the best weapon against these emotionally less fortunate people is silence. Smile and nod at whatever negative bs they hurl towards you. If you do this, trust me, they'll stew in it. They won't get the fix of someone else's displeasure to make them feel (temporarily) better and then, once they realize that berating other people doesn't work for them, they'll soon figure out that they need help to fix their problems. Real help. It just takes one person at a time to help break that circle-- and this creates real, tangible change.
In conclusion, you are fine. You are so fine. You are you. What makes you what you are should make you happy. I'm sure you've heard stuff like this before, but it's not said enough! You are so perfectly you, and there's no one else in the world like you. You're different! You're weird! Love it!
"Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you"
- PatInTheHat
Thursday, December 4, 2014
Ferguson Again
Welp, ladies and gentlemen, I'm an asshole. Yup, I was the person a couple posts ago (the two-sided coin one about Ferguson if you're keeping track) that said after Ferguson, something LIKE Ferguson would likely not happen again.
How dumb was I?
Eric Garner was caught on tape being a citizen of the United States in New York state. He was then strangled to death by a cop--also on tape. That cop was not indicted by a not-from-Ferguson Grand Jury.
Here are the "facts that have come out so far"--I'm putting this in quotes for two reasons: 1. It's all on tape. You can pretty much judge it all yourself, because it's all right there on tape. 2. Because that's what people who are "on the fence" about the situation are saying--Fact 1. Eric Garner was selling loose cigarettes. 2. He was told not to, then told to go somewhere else. 3. He stood his ground and said that he wasn't doing anything (he WAS doing something) 4. He was not frisked. 5. Multiple cops came to the aid of the first cop. 6. One of the cops decided to put Eric Garner in the sleeper hold; however, he was not applying it right. Wanna know how I know? Because 7. Eric Garner was thrown to the ground and said he couldn't breathe, so, uhh, he wasn't sleeping. and 8. Eric Garner died.
My stance: this case is a SLAM DUNK--the cop from NY should be indicted. Unlike with the Michael Brown case, there was a lot of evidence that was tampered with. There was also evidence that was inconsistent with OTHER evidence. With the evidence that was PROVIDED, I understood the decision of the Grand Jury; however, I was seriously unhappy with the flaws in the system that allowed for this to happen. Unfortunately, there was no incriminating video evidence for either side.
I will not apologize for what I'm about to say: If you honestly believe that the Grand Jury made the right call, or that the video evidence was not enough to IDENTIFY that an unarmed/un-malicious black man was unjustifiably murdered by police AND that the cop in question was justifiably NOT indicted, then YOU are a part of the problem. YOU ARE a part of the reason that this country is not doing so well. YOU really need to THINK about what you're content with in this country. The people have every right to protest. I know everyone wants peaceful protests, I am an advocate of the same, but I'm not surprised if it gets ugly out there. There are CLEARLY fewer places in this country where the American people can trust their authoritative officials. You don't like that they're getting violent? Then make sure the police aren't unjustifiably killing its citizens.
That is all.
- Pat
How dumb was I?
Eric Garner was caught on tape being a citizen of the United States in New York state. He was then strangled to death by a cop--also on tape. That cop was not indicted by a not-from-Ferguson Grand Jury.
Here are the "facts that have come out so far"--I'm putting this in quotes for two reasons: 1. It's all on tape. You can pretty much judge it all yourself, because it's all right there on tape. 2. Because that's what people who are "on the fence" about the situation are saying--Fact 1. Eric Garner was selling loose cigarettes. 2. He was told not to, then told to go somewhere else. 3. He stood his ground and said that he wasn't doing anything (he WAS doing something) 4. He was not frisked. 5. Multiple cops came to the aid of the first cop. 6. One of the cops decided to put Eric Garner in the sleeper hold; however, he was not applying it right. Wanna know how I know? Because 7. Eric Garner was thrown to the ground and said he couldn't breathe, so, uhh, he wasn't sleeping. and 8. Eric Garner died.
My stance: this case is a SLAM DUNK--the cop from NY should be indicted. Unlike with the Michael Brown case, there was a lot of evidence that was tampered with. There was also evidence that was inconsistent with OTHER evidence. With the evidence that was PROVIDED, I understood the decision of the Grand Jury; however, I was seriously unhappy with the flaws in the system that allowed for this to happen. Unfortunately, there was no incriminating video evidence for either side.
I will not apologize for what I'm about to say: If you honestly believe that the Grand Jury made the right call, or that the video evidence was not enough to IDENTIFY that an unarmed/un-malicious black man was unjustifiably murdered by police AND that the cop in question was justifiably NOT indicted, then YOU are a part of the problem. YOU ARE a part of the reason that this country is not doing so well. YOU really need to THINK about what you're content with in this country. The people have every right to protest. I know everyone wants peaceful protests, I am an advocate of the same, but I'm not surprised if it gets ugly out there. There are CLEARLY fewer places in this country where the American people can trust their authoritative officials. You don't like that they're getting violent? Then make sure the police aren't unjustifiably killing its citizens.
That is all.
- Pat
Wednesday, December 3, 2014
Without A Trace
I have been pretty shaken up by the Shane Montgomery case; I can only imagine how shaken up those who actually knew him have been. For those living under a rock, Shane Montgomery is a 21-year-old West Chester student whom disappeared along Main Street in Manayunk (specifically right outside of Kildaire's) early Thanksgiving morning. The out-pouring of support has been awesome, and so, too, have the stories about him and/or his family since his disappearance.
For me, over the past week, this strange happenstance has been brought up in conversation at least a half-a-dozen times. "Did you hear about Shane?!"..."What do you think happened?!"..."Where could he be?!"..."Where were his friends?!"...etc. All great questions. All hard to answer. I'll get to some of those shortly.
I really fear for Shane. I mean, of course, who wouldn't? It's been 7 days. The possibilities are endless. If Shane was taken, which is a definite possibility, he could be anywhere IN THE COUNTRY (in the world, even) by now. It depressed me to see after the first couple days to see law-enforcement searching in the murky waters of the Schuylkill, because if they found him in there, then he's certainly not alive. At this point, I actually hope that he was taken, because if he WAS taken, the chances of him being alive increase. I don't know why anyone would have taken Shane, that part doesn't make any sense, but at least there is then the potential that he's alive. This whole thing sounds like an episode of Without A Trace. One moment, everything is fine with a person, and the next moment they're gone with no one having a clue as to the "why" or the "how."
This brings us to the questions previously posed. I am not sure what happened to Shane, but there's one thing we definitely know: Shane was drunk. No, we have no idea how drunk. We also have no idea why he was leaving the bar alone (at least, that's what has been reported), so the question I also had and still have is "Where were his friends?" This is a really difficult time, and by NO MEANS am I trying to put blame on the people he was with for this. (For those reading this that know Shane or was with Shane that night, PLEASE do not blame yourself for this. It's not your fault. We have no idea where he is, but whatever happened is NOT your fault.) That said, when we're drunk, whether we're driving a car or not, we can be a danger to ourselves and others. A buddy system is always encouraged. I know we know this, and I know this is a crazy situation, but no one should be outside alone and drunk. When someone you know is stumbling out of a packed bar by themselves, it's very hard to know where anyone you know is. But I do find it weird that he was alone right around closing time. No matter the outcome, let this be a lesson to all of us.
I will say that Manayunk is a pleasure to be around. I visited the Grape Room a few months ago for a birthday party (and enjoyed it so much that I'm about to have a show there with my band in a couple weeks), and I had TONS of fun down there. I also noticed how safe I felt leaving the bar at night, because the lights along Main Street are pretty bright, and cars, including a swath of law enforcement, are always driving up and down the block. THAT is why I am, and I'm sure many others are, baffled.
What do I think happened? Well, like I previously stated: I hope he was taken, and I believe he was, too. If Shane was as drunk as reported, someone in a car could have pulled up to him, asked if he needed a ride, and Shane may not have had the wherewithal to know what he was doing or who was in the car, and entered (Yes, he could have also just been completely abducted, too). If this is true, we need to start looking in the fridge, behind the sink, and on top of the ceiling fan...in other words, we can keep looking in places close by, but I think it would do the search well to extend far beyond close-by counties.
Shane needs all of us to start thinking like super-sleuths. Yes, we all want to paint a great picture of Shane, and I have no doubt he's a great guy, but we need to start thinking about who he knows and who he might have wronged in his past. Could have a past ex or someone else that he had a previous altercation with been at or by the bar during that night? Can anyone remember if they saw someone who looked like a threat, or someone who looked like they were stalking Shane throughout the night--waiting for him to be alone? These are crazy things to think about, but right now, they're very relevant to Shane and his family's lives.
I am worried, but my gut is telling me he's out there waiting to be found alive.
Wherever you are, Shane, don't quit. The cavalry is coming.
- PatInTheHat
For me, over the past week, this strange happenstance has been brought up in conversation at least a half-a-dozen times. "Did you hear about Shane?!"..."What do you think happened?!"..."Where could he be?!"..."Where were his friends?!"...etc. All great questions. All hard to answer. I'll get to some of those shortly.
I really fear for Shane. I mean, of course, who wouldn't? It's been 7 days. The possibilities are endless. If Shane was taken, which is a definite possibility, he could be anywhere IN THE COUNTRY (in the world, even) by now. It depressed me to see after the first couple days to see law-enforcement searching in the murky waters of the Schuylkill, because if they found him in there, then he's certainly not alive. At this point, I actually hope that he was taken, because if he WAS taken, the chances of him being alive increase. I don't know why anyone would have taken Shane, that part doesn't make any sense, but at least there is then the potential that he's alive. This whole thing sounds like an episode of Without A Trace. One moment, everything is fine with a person, and the next moment they're gone with no one having a clue as to the "why" or the "how."
This brings us to the questions previously posed. I am not sure what happened to Shane, but there's one thing we definitely know: Shane was drunk. No, we have no idea how drunk. We also have no idea why he was leaving the bar alone (at least, that's what has been reported), so the question I also had and still have is "Where were his friends?" This is a really difficult time, and by NO MEANS am I trying to put blame on the people he was with for this. (For those reading this that know Shane or was with Shane that night, PLEASE do not blame yourself for this. It's not your fault. We have no idea where he is, but whatever happened is NOT your fault.) That said, when we're drunk, whether we're driving a car or not, we can be a danger to ourselves and others. A buddy system is always encouraged. I know we know this, and I know this is a crazy situation, but no one should be outside alone and drunk. When someone you know is stumbling out of a packed bar by themselves, it's very hard to know where anyone you know is. But I do find it weird that he was alone right around closing time. No matter the outcome, let this be a lesson to all of us.
I will say that Manayunk is a pleasure to be around. I visited the Grape Room a few months ago for a birthday party (and enjoyed it so much that I'm about to have a show there with my band in a couple weeks), and I had TONS of fun down there. I also noticed how safe I felt leaving the bar at night, because the lights along Main Street are pretty bright, and cars, including a swath of law enforcement, are always driving up and down the block. THAT is why I am, and I'm sure many others are, baffled.
What do I think happened? Well, like I previously stated: I hope he was taken, and I believe he was, too. If Shane was as drunk as reported, someone in a car could have pulled up to him, asked if he needed a ride, and Shane may not have had the wherewithal to know what he was doing or who was in the car, and entered (Yes, he could have also just been completely abducted, too). If this is true, we need to start looking in the fridge, behind the sink, and on top of the ceiling fan...in other words, we can keep looking in places close by, but I think it would do the search well to extend far beyond close-by counties.
Shane needs all of us to start thinking like super-sleuths. Yes, we all want to paint a great picture of Shane, and I have no doubt he's a great guy, but we need to start thinking about who he knows and who he might have wronged in his past. Could have a past ex or someone else that he had a previous altercation with been at or by the bar during that night? Can anyone remember if they saw someone who looked like a threat, or someone who looked like they were stalking Shane throughout the night--waiting for him to be alone? These are crazy things to think about, but right now, they're very relevant to Shane and his family's lives.
I am worried, but my gut is telling me he's out there waiting to be found alive.
Wherever you are, Shane, don't quit. The cavalry is coming.
- PatInTheHat
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
If It Ain't Broke, Perform Surgery (Updated)
Oh, America. Land of the free, home of the intellectually sub-par. Most country-men and women love talking about how amazing America is, but they don't really like talking about how terrible it is.* We are made up of people whom, more often than not, cling to tradition. Tradition is another way of saying: Let's keep doing the same thing over and over again, and never change. There's a problem with that logic when we're a part of a country that is supposed to be the (current) greatest economical and militarily versed country in the world.
We cannot continue to be great if we don't want to change. There can be negative change, of course, but the change I'm referring to specifically is progress. Easier said than done, I know, but we have all of the tools. Certain things that worked before don't work anymore. A lot of people think that the changes we have made in certain systems, whether they are educational, authoritative, or labor systems are bad things, and that some negative repercussions to making these changes means that the old way was better. I'm here to tell you that this train of thought is a fallacy. The reason why change was being made at all is because enough people were noticing that things were starting to suck.
Updated section: One thing I meant to bring up before publishing was the similarity I see between the US and Sears as far as change goes. You've been living under a rock for quite a few years if you're not aware that Sears Holdings (SHLD) is going under. What did they do wrong? they took too long to innovate and change with the times. They realized after it was too late that a great way to sell merchandise is through this thing called the internet. Every other low-cost retail, including that of Wal-Mart, was way ahead of the curve! This country feels like that to me. It feels like we're trying to catch up while other countries are flying past us. I immediately think of Japan and Switzerland as countries that really seem to have their shit together. Let's just say that as a nation, I hope we have the ability to innovate better/quicker than Sears, or else we're in trouble.
Some of the changes that have been made, whether legislative or otherwise, have been progressive. Some changes have shown regressions, but that DOES NOT MEAN that the process of CHANGING the system was the problem. There's a quote from Teddy Roosevelt that I've been living by for quite some time. Personally, I think it's a fantastic concept. He says, "In any moment of decision, the best thing to do is the right thing, the next best thing is the wrong thing, and the worst thing you can do is nothing." Now, to put that into perspective, try, for just a moment, to put on the shoes of the last two president's when they had to make critical decisions to better/defend our country. For Bush, it was 9/11. For Obama, it HAS BEEN (that's the present-perfect, folks) what will likely be called the Great Recession.
I don't think Bush made the greatest decisions in the world to invade Pakistan. In hind sight, we now know that the attack on Sadam Hussein, though justifiable considering the man was a lunatic, had nothing to do with the attacks on our country. They had to do with a self-serving mission to end a fight that his father, Big George, never finished from the Gulf War. It could be argued that the fight against Sadam Hussein really helped Pakistan and other of the surrounding countries in the Middle East. The other side could be argued, too, that the fight against Sadam Hussein caused more problems than it solved. We don't really know these things yet, but it doesn't really matter. The point is the man took information that was given to him and he used it to make tough decisions. What more can you ask for when your country is being attacked?
I don't think Obama has made the greatest decisions in the world either. I've been on the fence about his constitutional dealings, and I absolutely hate that he gave bonuses to upper execs of failing companies. A lot of people mock him for going against the grain/re-writing rules/creating executive orders/etc. But I LOVE his tenacity. The guy gets his ass handed to him by Congress every five seconds, and he pretty much goes, "Oh, you don't want to change? Well, then let me do it for you." Now, you can disagree with this all you want, but you have to understand the pros to this kind of decision making: 1. If he's wrong THEN WE MAKE OTHER CHANGES. That's the beauty about being wrong. If it's proven that a new system/idea is wrong, then we stop acting on that idea and think of something else. Believe it or not, the simple act of decisions making AIDS IN PROGRESSING THE COUNTRY 2. If he's RIGHT, then we go, "Oh, well, didn't see that coming," and continue with our lives. Personally, I think our Constitution DOES need to be re-written. It's dated. Yes, the foundation of many of the principles should remain the same i.e. freedom, freedom of speech, etc. There are a lot of things that shouldn't change. BUT some things are definitely in need of some tweaking.
To conclude, let's be a little more aware of how progression works. Staying stagnant will only make us worse. The proof there lies with our educational statistics, mostly.** And, frankly, I don't care for complainers who do not have ideas themselves. I don't like the "I know it's wrong, but I have no idea how I'd fix it," approach and neither would any manager or supervisor you'd ever have in your life. As Jeff Daniel's character states in the opening scene of "The Newsroom," we are not the greatest country in the world anymore. The first step to change is admitting that we're not all that great. Yes, we do still have a lot of opportunities. And, yes, there is a lot of obtainable wealth, but we're still so far behind with social rights. We're still so far behind in making sure that the majority of the country isn't mostly impoverished. We built ourselves up on the principle that we will help each other get to the top, but lately we've become a country that is more concerned about getting above everyone else, that we forgot where we came from.
Keep thinking, people! Don't quit. Innovate!
*When they do, they hate holding themselves accountable, and generally enjoy jolly-old past-times such as: finger pointing, name calling, and blaming everything on a President.
**How we don't have standardized education yet is beyond me.
- PatInTheHat
We cannot continue to be great if we don't want to change. There can be negative change, of course, but the change I'm referring to specifically is progress. Easier said than done, I know, but we have all of the tools. Certain things that worked before don't work anymore. A lot of people think that the changes we have made in certain systems, whether they are educational, authoritative, or labor systems are bad things, and that some negative repercussions to making these changes means that the old way was better. I'm here to tell you that this train of thought is a fallacy. The reason why change was being made at all is because enough people were noticing that things were starting to suck.
Updated section: One thing I meant to bring up before publishing was the similarity I see between the US and Sears as far as change goes. You've been living under a rock for quite a few years if you're not aware that Sears Holdings (SHLD) is going under. What did they do wrong? they took too long to innovate and change with the times. They realized after it was too late that a great way to sell merchandise is through this thing called the internet. Every other low-cost retail, including that of Wal-Mart, was way ahead of the curve! This country feels like that to me. It feels like we're trying to catch up while other countries are flying past us. I immediately think of Japan and Switzerland as countries that really seem to have their shit together. Let's just say that as a nation, I hope we have the ability to innovate better/quicker than Sears, or else we're in trouble.
Some of the changes that have been made, whether legislative or otherwise, have been progressive. Some changes have shown regressions, but that DOES NOT MEAN that the process of CHANGING the system was the problem. There's a quote from Teddy Roosevelt that I've been living by for quite some time. Personally, I think it's a fantastic concept. He says, "In any moment of decision, the best thing to do is the right thing, the next best thing is the wrong thing, and the worst thing you can do is nothing." Now, to put that into perspective, try, for just a moment, to put on the shoes of the last two president's when they had to make critical decisions to better/defend our country. For Bush, it was 9/11. For Obama, it HAS BEEN (that's the present-perfect, folks) what will likely be called the Great Recession.
I don't think Bush made the greatest decisions in the world to invade Pakistan. In hind sight, we now know that the attack on Sadam Hussein, though justifiable considering the man was a lunatic, had nothing to do with the attacks on our country. They had to do with a self-serving mission to end a fight that his father, Big George, never finished from the Gulf War. It could be argued that the fight against Sadam Hussein really helped Pakistan and other of the surrounding countries in the Middle East. The other side could be argued, too, that the fight against Sadam Hussein caused more problems than it solved. We don't really know these things yet, but it doesn't really matter. The point is the man took information that was given to him and he used it to make tough decisions. What more can you ask for when your country is being attacked?
I don't think Obama has made the greatest decisions in the world either. I've been on the fence about his constitutional dealings, and I absolutely hate that he gave bonuses to upper execs of failing companies. A lot of people mock him for going against the grain/re-writing rules/creating executive orders/etc. But I LOVE his tenacity. The guy gets his ass handed to him by Congress every five seconds, and he pretty much goes, "Oh, you don't want to change? Well, then let me do it for you." Now, you can disagree with this all you want, but you have to understand the pros to this kind of decision making: 1. If he's wrong THEN WE MAKE OTHER CHANGES. That's the beauty about being wrong. If it's proven that a new system/idea is wrong, then we stop acting on that idea and think of something else. Believe it or not, the simple act of decisions making AIDS IN PROGRESSING THE COUNTRY 2. If he's RIGHT, then we go, "Oh, well, didn't see that coming," and continue with our lives. Personally, I think our Constitution DOES need to be re-written. It's dated. Yes, the foundation of many of the principles should remain the same i.e. freedom, freedom of speech, etc. There are a lot of things that shouldn't change. BUT some things are definitely in need of some tweaking.
To conclude, let's be a little more aware of how progression works. Staying stagnant will only make us worse. The proof there lies with our educational statistics, mostly.** And, frankly, I don't care for complainers who do not have ideas themselves. I don't like the "I know it's wrong, but I have no idea how I'd fix it," approach and neither would any manager or supervisor you'd ever have in your life. As Jeff Daniel's character states in the opening scene of "The Newsroom," we are not the greatest country in the world anymore. The first step to change is admitting that we're not all that great. Yes, we do still have a lot of opportunities. And, yes, there is a lot of obtainable wealth, but we're still so far behind with social rights. We're still so far behind in making sure that the majority of the country isn't mostly impoverished. We built ourselves up on the principle that we will help each other get to the top, but lately we've become a country that is more concerned about getting above everyone else, that we forgot where we came from.
Keep thinking, people! Don't quit. Innovate!
*When they do, they hate holding themselves accountable, and generally enjoy jolly-old past-times such as: finger pointing, name calling, and blaming everything on a President.
**How we don't have standardized education yet is beyond me.
- PatInTheHat
Monday, December 1, 2014
Ho, ho, NO - Grumpy Pat Edition Pt. 1
Ladies and gentlemen, it's that time of year again. That's right--it's that time of year when we nearly kill people to buy a not-as-cheap-as-those-tricky-stores-lead-you-to-believe gift for that special someone*. No, I'm not just talking about Black Friday. I'm talking about the whole month leading up to the pagan ritualized, overly commercialized celebration of the wrong date, by about 2 and a half months--scientifically speaking**--that our Lord and savior Cthulu was born from the loins of a virgin Kracken.***
That's right: I'm talking about Christmas. Do you remember how happy you were when you were stupid? Waking up early in the morning on Christmas? I certainly do. I would wake up in the middle of the night sometimes to listen for the footsteps of an imaginary man, who never actually came, to deliver gifts under a tree that I later learned had absolutely nothing to do with the religion that I was brought up on. Then, later that morning, I'd get out of bed when my parents told me "it's time to come downstairs now," and I would run downstairs to see a living room littered with pine needles and debt in the form of neatly wrapped presents as far as the eye could see.**** Soon after, I'd check on some half-eaten cookies--made by my mother for not-Santa--that a supposed bearded man came to eat.
New Nintendo games, new board games, new clothes--I received everything I ever wanted, and sometimes more. This event was a reassurance that, even if I was a little shit during the majority of the year, some fat guy in a red suit made a list--and checked it twice--of all the girls and boys he crept on during the year and chose me as a "good kid." To be honest, I was one of those "end of life" Christian types when it came to the "good kid" schpeel, i.e. if I did something wrong during the early parts of the year, I'd start to make sure I was making less mistakes, and doing less "wrongs," and overall being "good" by the end of the year, which for me, during the ages before 10, was whether I was annoying my parents or not. It worked every time like clockwork.
Now that I'm older, smarter, less-ignorant of the Christmas fable--I swear elf-on-a-shelf is real. That demon spawn of Tom Cruise's witchcraft moves on its own--I'm also grumpy. Now, I fully understand that MONEY is what puts the gifts under the tree. It's hard to believe that I'm only 13-14 years separated from this enlightenment, which means I've only been not-stupid for that long. And now that I'm not-stupid AND have money that means: It's time to accumulate some debt on my own accord. Having about 50 grand in student loan debt does not make being in more debt sound too thrilling. In fact, it sucks. For the next 6 to 7 months after Christmas, I'm trying to get all of that money back just so we can get back to the original 50 grand of student loan debt that still needs to be paid.
What's that? I've accumulated late fees? 60 thousand now? Well, merry-turduckin'-Christmas to me.*****
*Hopefully they ma-ma-ma-make you happy. (See Tropic Thunder for that reference)
**Yes, it's true. The birth of Jesus Christ--no, not Cthulu--was most likely in March given accurate astronomical data.
***This whole piece is strictly satire. I'M JOKING. (Except maybe that part about people killing people over Black Friday/The Holidays. Unfortunately, that is somehow NOT satire.)
****IT'S SATIRE!! CALM DOWN!
*****CHRISTMAS IN JULY! >:O
- PatInTheHat
That's right: I'm talking about Christmas. Do you remember how happy you were when you were stupid? Waking up early in the morning on Christmas? I certainly do. I would wake up in the middle of the night sometimes to listen for the footsteps of an imaginary man, who never actually came, to deliver gifts under a tree that I later learned had absolutely nothing to do with the religion that I was brought up on. Then, later that morning, I'd get out of bed when my parents told me "it's time to come downstairs now," and I would run downstairs to see a living room littered with pine needles and debt in the form of neatly wrapped presents as far as the eye could see.**** Soon after, I'd check on some half-eaten cookies--made by my mother for not-Santa--that a supposed bearded man came to eat.
New Nintendo games, new board games, new clothes--I received everything I ever wanted, and sometimes more. This event was a reassurance that, even if I was a little shit during the majority of the year, some fat guy in a red suit made a list--and checked it twice--of all the girls and boys he crept on during the year and chose me as a "good kid." To be honest, I was one of those "end of life" Christian types when it came to the "good kid" schpeel, i.e. if I did something wrong during the early parts of the year, I'd start to make sure I was making less mistakes, and doing less "wrongs," and overall being "good" by the end of the year, which for me, during the ages before 10, was whether I was annoying my parents or not. It worked every time like clockwork.
Now that I'm older, smarter, less-ignorant of the Christmas fable--I swear elf-on-a-shelf is real. That demon spawn of Tom Cruise's witchcraft moves on its own--I'm also grumpy. Now, I fully understand that MONEY is what puts the gifts under the tree. It's hard to believe that I'm only 13-14 years separated from this enlightenment, which means I've only been not-stupid for that long. And now that I'm not-stupid AND have money that means: It's time to accumulate some debt on my own accord. Having about 50 grand in student loan debt does not make being in more debt sound too thrilling. In fact, it sucks. For the next 6 to 7 months after Christmas, I'm trying to get all of that money back just so we can get back to the original 50 grand of student loan debt that still needs to be paid.
What's that? I've accumulated late fees? 60 thousand now? Well, merry-turduckin'-Christmas to me.*****
*Hopefully they ma-ma-ma-make you happy. (See Tropic Thunder for that reference)
**Yes, it's true. The birth of Jesus Christ--no, not Cthulu--was most likely in March given accurate astronomical data.
***This whole piece is strictly satire. I'M JOKING. (Except maybe that part about people killing people over Black Friday/The Holidays. Unfortunately, that is somehow NOT satire.)
****IT'S SATIRE!! CALM DOWN!
*****CHRISTMAS IN JULY! >:O
- PatInTheHat
Saturday, November 29, 2014
When Life Gives You Flowers, Preserve Them
Lemonade: You either drink it or you don't. It might taste good if and when you drink it, but the memory of the flavor only lasts a short amount of time until you stick something else in your mouth. I like lemons, and I like lemonade, but, the point is, our relationship with one another doesn't last all that long to matter.
A friend of mine lent me a book called "It's Kind of a Funny Story," by Ned Vizzini. In it, a determined teenager, Craig Gilner, will do whatever it takes to succeed at life. Along the way, the book takes a few dramatic, perhaps depressing turns of Craig's character and others around him. Around the point of Craig seeking help for his depression, a really interesting concept is brought up that is called "Anchors." I'm sure we all know what an anchor is in real life--it's that heavy gizmo that keeps big boats docked--and the concept mentioned is similar. An anchor is someone or something that we can rely on; someone or something that won't get up and walk away i.e. parents, hobbies, etc. These are generally things that you CAN have an emotional tie with, but they won't walk away unless you do--which theoretically strengthens your emotional capacity. I love this concept.
That brings us to the reason for the title.
Flowers die. Every living thing does. It's an unfortunate truth. Although parents can be an anchor, anchors are generally things that are NOT alive. In which case, these things or activities remain constant in your life until you die--If I died, up to this point, it would be a sad day for the bowling lanes.
Flowers are a beautiful thing. In our society, they're used in many beautiful ways. For example, we use them to send to someone we love or someone we're dating. But we also use them to place on a tombstone to honor someone who passed. Even the latter example is used for the living, although the flower is given TO the dead. We remember these flowers, whoever they are given to; wherever they are placed. When they are given to us, we remember them even more! We take care of them and nurture them to the best of our ability. Sometimes we put them inside of a vase. Sometimes we put them inside of a flower pot with soil. Sometimes we hang them upside down to forever preserve the flower's beautiful color, so that it can be kept and seen whenever you want to see it.
While flowers are alive, they give off a beautiful smell throughout your house that reminds you each day of the person who may have given you those flowers. All-in-all, when life gives you flowers, they remind you that you're loved. It's the most beautiful thing to be loved--to be REALLY loved. And what better way to be reminded that you're loved than with the awakening of a few of your senses! (One of which triggers dormant memories the best: the sense of smell).
Although flowers do die, they remind me of anchors. Since they are preservable, you can keep them forever. They'll always remind you of a time when you were loved, too. Not that you're not loved by someone now, but the flower or flowers were given to you as a token of appreciation. They were sent to you so that you KNOW, without a doubt, that you're appreciated. I know there are other ways to show appreciation (lulz, duh), but flowers aren't overbearing. They're the quintessential life-prize bestowed upon you by someone in your life that matters at THAT moment in time. If this person is family, then you've got yourself 2 great anchors. If this person is a lover, they might go away, but you'll always have the memory of getting those flowers from them.
Some flowers are metaphorical, of course. I feel like I've been receiving flowers for a few months now. Whether they are certain people, objects, or activities, anchors are being formed. These things of which I'll never forget. Take a minute to think about the anchors in your life. And take another minute to realize their importance for your sanity. If they were given to you, or even if you pursued them on your own, preserve them. You never really know how long they'll be important to you.
- PatInTheHat
A friend of mine lent me a book called "It's Kind of a Funny Story," by Ned Vizzini. In it, a determined teenager, Craig Gilner, will do whatever it takes to succeed at life. Along the way, the book takes a few dramatic, perhaps depressing turns of Craig's character and others around him. Around the point of Craig seeking help for his depression, a really interesting concept is brought up that is called "Anchors." I'm sure we all know what an anchor is in real life--it's that heavy gizmo that keeps big boats docked--and the concept mentioned is similar. An anchor is someone or something that we can rely on; someone or something that won't get up and walk away i.e. parents, hobbies, etc. These are generally things that you CAN have an emotional tie with, but they won't walk away unless you do--which theoretically strengthens your emotional capacity. I love this concept.
That brings us to the reason for the title.
Flowers die. Every living thing does. It's an unfortunate truth. Although parents can be an anchor, anchors are generally things that are NOT alive. In which case, these things or activities remain constant in your life until you die--If I died, up to this point, it would be a sad day for the bowling lanes.
Flowers are a beautiful thing. In our society, they're used in many beautiful ways. For example, we use them to send to someone we love or someone we're dating. But we also use them to place on a tombstone to honor someone who passed. Even the latter example is used for the living, although the flower is given TO the dead. We remember these flowers, whoever they are given to; wherever they are placed. When they are given to us, we remember them even more! We take care of them and nurture them to the best of our ability. Sometimes we put them inside of a vase. Sometimes we put them inside of a flower pot with soil. Sometimes we hang them upside down to forever preserve the flower's beautiful color, so that it can be kept and seen whenever you want to see it.
While flowers are alive, they give off a beautiful smell throughout your house that reminds you each day of the person who may have given you those flowers. All-in-all, when life gives you flowers, they remind you that you're loved. It's the most beautiful thing to be loved--to be REALLY loved. And what better way to be reminded that you're loved than with the awakening of a few of your senses! (One of which triggers dormant memories the best: the sense of smell).
Although flowers do die, they remind me of anchors. Since they are preservable, you can keep them forever. They'll always remind you of a time when you were loved, too. Not that you're not loved by someone now, but the flower or flowers were given to you as a token of appreciation. They were sent to you so that you KNOW, without a doubt, that you're appreciated. I know there are other ways to show appreciation (lulz, duh), but flowers aren't overbearing. They're the quintessential life-prize bestowed upon you by someone in your life that matters at THAT moment in time. If this person is family, then you've got yourself 2 great anchors. If this person is a lover, they might go away, but you'll always have the memory of getting those flowers from them.
Some flowers are metaphorical, of course. I feel like I've been receiving flowers for a few months now. Whether they are certain people, objects, or activities, anchors are being formed. These things of which I'll never forget. Take a minute to think about the anchors in your life. And take another minute to realize their importance for your sanity. If they were given to you, or even if you pursued them on your own, preserve them. You never really know how long they'll be important to you.
- PatInTheHat
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Two Sides to the Coin (w/ added section) *Last update*
Please read until the end if you want to make comments off of this post. This investigation was botched in so many ways. The original post was everything up to my signing, and the update follows. ________________
Well, here we go. The decision has been made by the grand jury of Missouri to not indict the cop, Darren Wilson, who shot and killed Michael Brown. Unlike Ferguson, I'm not shocked. The justice system doesn't always make the right decision, but in this case, with the evidence that was provided, I honestly believe they made the right call.
It was only a short time after the shooting that I had countless arguments with friends and friends of friends advocating for the side of Michael Brown. I also had a really interesting conversation with my father before all of the evidence came out. My father and I are devil's advocates--more in the way of looking at both sides of the situation, or literally putting ourselves in the shoes of both parties: Brown and Wilson in this case. I love these conversations, because it really gets the mind rolling. This post will describe most of that conversation, and then I'll conclude with my own thoughts on the issue. I'm using this conversation, because in order to make the most sense of it all, we threw out any of the witness testimony, which just so happens to be what the grand jury did, too. Funny, huh?
"There's NO WAY Michael Brown was killed justifiably!" I yelled at my father as he looked on from the kitchen. When it comes to these kinds of topics, yelling/charisma can sometimes provoke effectively even if, at the time, you have no idea what you're talking about. This was not one of those times.
"Take race out of the equation for a minute," my father retorts calmly, "Let's say that Michael Brown is a 300 pound white man who is lunging at you (I'm about 150). At this point, you know he could be dangerous since you just heard over the radio that a store was being robbed by said individual."
"BUT HE WASN'T WHITE!" I always loved shooting down my father's devil's advocate rhetoric, because he uses it all the time. That said, he really helped me see a different POV here.
"Just listen to me for a second: I don't think this is a race issue," he said. Then he re-explained his previous points. "If you legitimately feared for your life while someone was charging you, would you take the risk and not shoot a potential threat?"
"Well, yeah!" I exclaimed, "but why not shoot for the knees/legs? And if you're a cop that does the job right, you wouldn't have shot him 8 or so times!" As a side note, I later learned that cops are trained to shoot at the chest. I understand that's where the most mass is, but that doesn't tend to be an un-fatal area to shoot someone. Although they are trained that way, I'm still not thrilled with that answer, but the truth is the truth. I digress...
"He was too close to shoot at the legs!" my father rebutted, taking some of the potential evidence he did find--this evidence was used in the grand jury trial. "And apparently, Michael Brown was reaching for the officer's gun!"
"Aren't there other ways, though!? Couldn't the officer have used his taser?" To this argument, I also learned that not all officers carry tasers. Then I asked why, and was answered with "government funding," and then I subsequently hated everything. It's almost like, "Oh, we'd rather have a better chance of killing someone than subduing them, interesting."
"You keep talking about Wilson. I want YOU to try to be HIM for a minute. Answer as if it was happening to you." My dad is always such a smart ass with this shit. As you can probably tell, he's really good at it. He never lets you deflect or deviate. He tries to keep you on his train of thought. Is it annoying as all fucking hell? Yes, absolutely. But I definitely learn this way. It hurts admitting that, but it's true.
"I would've..." I paused. I remembered hearing that he may have been on drugs, too, so that started swirling through my head. "...well I did hear he was on drugs, but at the time I wouldn't have known that!" Coming to that mid-thought epiphany, I continued, "I still can't say I would have shot him 8 times!"
"But what if he punched you in the face, like one report said, disorienting you. What now?" My dad moved his Queen to E5. It wasn't checkmate yet, but I was drawing dead. Then my dad acted it out without me being ready. He quickly got out of his chair and lunged at me as if to punch/attack me. "Times up," he said. Checkmate. In that moment I would have thought to grab anything and use it. Your mind really gets stimulated when you're in the heat of a physical altercation, and many times we forget what that feeling is like until it happens. In almost an instant, your pupils dilate, your palms start to sweat, you shake from adrenaline, etc. Even the best cops feel this way sometimes. Not all cops are prepared for an attacker even if, as citizens, we feel like they should be.
"I...I may have shot him until he stopped." If Michael Brown was as close as they say, I might not have even had the chance to draw the gun unless I already had it drawn. It was said, even in the official reports, that after being shot, Brown didn't stop charging. I know there are some missing puzzle pieces, like the medical examiner not having batteries for his camera, and the officers leaving Michael Brown's dead body in the streets and uncovered for several hours. These things definitely seem incriminating for the Ferguson police dept., and perhaps that should have been dealt with; however, those are separate issues.
To conclude, even though I agree with the decision of the grand jury, I cannot rule out that this wasn't a race issue. I'm not saying that it was, but it's still hard to rule out that potential. The way everything was handled from top to bottom doesn't make any sense. It was handled so poorly that either the Ferguson police dept. is ridiculously ignorant or seriously racist. Honestly, the former would make me less uneasy. With that said, this does not give the citizens of Ferguson the right to ignorantly freak out. This is NOT how issues are solved. They need to understand that the justice system played out and worked the way it was supposed to. I know the decision is unfavorable for them and many of those who feel like there is a direct link to race with the killing of Michael Brown.
There was a famous quote given by Jon Stewart about race back about a week or so after the shooting. He said, "Race is there and it is a constant. You're tired of hearin' about it? Imagine how fucking exhausting it is living it." This HAS to be taken into consideration when things like this are happening. Those of white decent can never understand what it was like growing up as a minority of any kind. You can't. You might want to; you might try to; but you can't. In any given situation there are two sides to the coin. We, along with our justice system, do our best to determine every angle (at least I certainly hope so.) Sometimes that system fails, and we all get really angry about its failure, but things do change in failure. I hate that this happened, but think about how thorough that dept. is going to be from now on with every police-to-civilian altercation. Answer: super thorough. After things calm down, I very much doubt that Ferguson, and even many police depts around the country, will let anything like this happen again. At the very least, their protocols will change. That's my hope.
- PatInTheHat
After reading the autopsy reports, both public and private, firearm examiner, and a slew of other now-public documents, I'm even more conflicted than before. I'll post the link to them, and then you can decide for yourself, but there seems like there is practically NO way that Wilson could not be indicted. I mean, the evidence IS RIGHT THERE! The private autopsy report shows 12 BULLET WOUNDS, while the public one only shows FIVE!? Which is it?! If you're going to throw out the witness accounts for having varying stories, YOU MIGHT AS WELL THROW OUT THE AUTOPSY REPORTS, TOO!
It's really hard to comment on every aspect of the things that I'm reading. The witness journal is really strange, too.
I also just read Wilson's recorded interview the very next day. And although I'm ticked that he shot the gun so many times, it really seems like he may have been telling the truth, and he sounded scared shitless.
Please read some of these reports, at least:
http://apps.stlpublicradio.org/ferguson-project/evidence.html
I'm done trying to make sense of this. It's a fucking shit-storm.
Please give me your comments, I'd actually love to hear them. Everything written in this post is not to offend anyone. This whole case is full of conflicts, so please forgive my swaying, but this is how I learn. Thanks.
___________________________
I've really enjoyed hearing from multiple point of views about this issue, so everyone that has taken their time to message me or talk in person about this, I say "Thanks" to you.
One of the things that I definitely overlooked that was said to me last night is that no matter what the outcome of the Darren Wilson case, the system is MORBIDLY flawed. Whether Brown was black, white, asian, mexican, etc. if you're able to unload a whole clip into a person without any repercussions than that's a problem. I also think there needs to be better ways to subdue a suspect. The fact that certain police depts allow their police to carry guns but not a taser is beyond my comprehension. This stance, in and of itself, should incriminate the system. I'm not sure why the government would give authorities a weapon with better potential to kill than subdue other than the idea that they'd rather kill than subdue (or at least, rather give authorities that option).
Lastly, peaceful protests AGAINST THE SYSTEM I'm all in favor for. I will not advocate violence. I understand the struggle the oppressed have faced over the course of our nation's history, but violence is not the answer. Still hoping real positive change can occur in the wake of this unfortunate event.
Well, here we go. The decision has been made by the grand jury of Missouri to not indict the cop, Darren Wilson, who shot and killed Michael Brown. Unlike Ferguson, I'm not shocked. The justice system doesn't always make the right decision, but in this case, with the evidence that was provided, I honestly believe they made the right call.
It was only a short time after the shooting that I had countless arguments with friends and friends of friends advocating for the side of Michael Brown. I also had a really interesting conversation with my father before all of the evidence came out. My father and I are devil's advocates--more in the way of looking at both sides of the situation, or literally putting ourselves in the shoes of both parties: Brown and Wilson in this case. I love these conversations, because it really gets the mind rolling. This post will describe most of that conversation, and then I'll conclude with my own thoughts on the issue. I'm using this conversation, because in order to make the most sense of it all, we threw out any of the witness testimony, which just so happens to be what the grand jury did, too. Funny, huh?
"There's NO WAY Michael Brown was killed justifiably!" I yelled at my father as he looked on from the kitchen. When it comes to these kinds of topics, yelling/charisma can sometimes provoke effectively even if, at the time, you have no idea what you're talking about. This was not one of those times.
"Take race out of the equation for a minute," my father retorts calmly, "Let's say that Michael Brown is a 300 pound white man who is lunging at you (I'm about 150). At this point, you know he could be dangerous since you just heard over the radio that a store was being robbed by said individual."
"BUT HE WASN'T WHITE!" I always loved shooting down my father's devil's advocate rhetoric, because he uses it all the time. That said, he really helped me see a different POV here.
"Just listen to me for a second: I don't think this is a race issue," he said. Then he re-explained his previous points. "If you legitimately feared for your life while someone was charging you, would you take the risk and not shoot a potential threat?"
"Well, yeah!" I exclaimed, "but why not shoot for the knees/legs? And if you're a cop that does the job right, you wouldn't have shot him 8 or so times!" As a side note, I later learned that cops are trained to shoot at the chest. I understand that's where the most mass is, but that doesn't tend to be an un-fatal area to shoot someone. Although they are trained that way, I'm still not thrilled with that answer, but the truth is the truth. I digress...
"He was too close to shoot at the legs!" my father rebutted, taking some of the potential evidence he did find--this evidence was used in the grand jury trial. "And apparently, Michael Brown was reaching for the officer's gun!"
"Aren't there other ways, though!? Couldn't the officer have used his taser?" To this argument, I also learned that not all officers carry tasers. Then I asked why, and was answered with "government funding," and then I subsequently hated everything. It's almost like, "Oh, we'd rather have a better chance of killing someone than subduing them, interesting."
"You keep talking about Wilson. I want YOU to try to be HIM for a minute. Answer as if it was happening to you." My dad is always such a smart ass with this shit. As you can probably tell, he's really good at it. He never lets you deflect or deviate. He tries to keep you on his train of thought. Is it annoying as all fucking hell? Yes, absolutely. But I definitely learn this way. It hurts admitting that, but it's true.
"I would've..." I paused. I remembered hearing that he may have been on drugs, too, so that started swirling through my head. "...well I did hear he was on drugs, but at the time I wouldn't have known that!" Coming to that mid-thought epiphany, I continued, "I still can't say I would have shot him 8 times!"
"But what if he punched you in the face, like one report said, disorienting you. What now?" My dad moved his Queen to E5. It wasn't checkmate yet, but I was drawing dead. Then my dad acted it out without me being ready. He quickly got out of his chair and lunged at me as if to punch/attack me. "Times up," he said. Checkmate. In that moment I would have thought to grab anything and use it. Your mind really gets stimulated when you're in the heat of a physical altercation, and many times we forget what that feeling is like until it happens. In almost an instant, your pupils dilate, your palms start to sweat, you shake from adrenaline, etc. Even the best cops feel this way sometimes. Not all cops are prepared for an attacker even if, as citizens, we feel like they should be.
"I...I may have shot him until he stopped." If Michael Brown was as close as they say, I might not have even had the chance to draw the gun unless I already had it drawn. It was said, even in the official reports, that after being shot, Brown didn't stop charging. I know there are some missing puzzle pieces, like the medical examiner not having batteries for his camera, and the officers leaving Michael Brown's dead body in the streets and uncovered for several hours. These things definitely seem incriminating for the Ferguson police dept., and perhaps that should have been dealt with; however, those are separate issues.
To conclude, even though I agree with the decision of the grand jury, I cannot rule out that this wasn't a race issue. I'm not saying that it was, but it's still hard to rule out that potential. The way everything was handled from top to bottom doesn't make any sense. It was handled so poorly that either the Ferguson police dept. is ridiculously ignorant or seriously racist. Honestly, the former would make me less uneasy. With that said, this does not give the citizens of Ferguson the right to ignorantly freak out. This is NOT how issues are solved. They need to understand that the justice system played out and worked the way it was supposed to. I know the decision is unfavorable for them and many of those who feel like there is a direct link to race with the killing of Michael Brown.
There was a famous quote given by Jon Stewart about race back about a week or so after the shooting. He said, "Race is there and it is a constant. You're tired of hearin' about it? Imagine how fucking exhausting it is living it." This HAS to be taken into consideration when things like this are happening. Those of white decent can never understand what it was like growing up as a minority of any kind. You can't. You might want to; you might try to; but you can't. In any given situation there are two sides to the coin. We, along with our justice system, do our best to determine every angle (at least I certainly hope so.) Sometimes that system fails, and we all get really angry about its failure, but things do change in failure. I hate that this happened, but think about how thorough that dept. is going to be from now on with every police-to-civilian altercation. Answer: super thorough. After things calm down, I very much doubt that Ferguson, and even many police depts around the country, will let anything like this happen again. At the very least, their protocols will change. That's my hope.
- PatInTheHat
After reading the autopsy reports, both public and private, firearm examiner, and a slew of other now-public documents, I'm even more conflicted than before. I'll post the link to them, and then you can decide for yourself, but there seems like there is practically NO way that Wilson could not be indicted. I mean, the evidence IS RIGHT THERE! The private autopsy report shows 12 BULLET WOUNDS, while the public one only shows FIVE!? Which is it?! If you're going to throw out the witness accounts for having varying stories, YOU MIGHT AS WELL THROW OUT THE AUTOPSY REPORTS, TOO!
It's really hard to comment on every aspect of the things that I'm reading. The witness journal is really strange, too.
I also just read Wilson's recorded interview the very next day. And although I'm ticked that he shot the gun so many times, it really seems like he may have been telling the truth, and he sounded scared shitless.
Please read some of these reports, at least:
http://apps.stlpublicradio.org/ferguson-project/evidence.html
I'm done trying to make sense of this. It's a fucking shit-storm.
Please give me your comments, I'd actually love to hear them. Everything written in this post is not to offend anyone. This whole case is full of conflicts, so please forgive my swaying, but this is how I learn. Thanks.
___________________________
I've really enjoyed hearing from multiple point of views about this issue, so everyone that has taken their time to message me or talk in person about this, I say "Thanks" to you.
One of the things that I definitely overlooked that was said to me last night is that no matter what the outcome of the Darren Wilson case, the system is MORBIDLY flawed. Whether Brown was black, white, asian, mexican, etc. if you're able to unload a whole clip into a person without any repercussions than that's a problem. I also think there needs to be better ways to subdue a suspect. The fact that certain police depts allow their police to carry guns but not a taser is beyond my comprehension. This stance, in and of itself, should incriminate the system. I'm not sure why the government would give authorities a weapon with better potential to kill than subdue other than the idea that they'd rather kill than subdue (or at least, rather give authorities that option).
Lastly, peaceful protests AGAINST THE SYSTEM I'm all in favor for. I will not advocate violence. I understand the struggle the oppressed have faced over the course of our nation's history, but violence is not the answer. Still hoping real positive change can occur in the wake of this unfortunate event.
Monday, November 24, 2014
To My Friends
When I was around 10/11 years old, a family of South Koreans moved a couple houses down on the block I've lived on my entire life. By this point, most of the people on the block considered that house haunted, and for a while, so did I--more on that in a later post. What I didn't know is that two kids living in that house would turn out to be--with some semblance of legendary status--a couple of my best friends.
Danny and Tommy were whirlwinds. If any of you thought I was hyper-active, then with these two combined, in comparison, you could have practically created a tornado. Danny is two years older me, and at the time he towered over Tommy and my other childhood best friend Todd. Every single day, if we had the chance, we'd create some activity that involved half of the neighborhood. Whether it was football, soccer, wiffle ball/stick ball, basketball, hacky-sack, you name it, we did it.
Over the next couple years we all bonded and got really close. We even got into little nerdy games like Yu-Gi-Oh! One thing that impressed Todd and I the most about these two: their incredible ability to break dance. Tommy was only 9 years old, and Danny was between 12 and 13 years old, and these kids already looked like pros. I mean, I was 11ish so anything where anyone was performing acrobatics of any kind probably made my jaw drop in wonderment. Todd and I knew that they had really decent upper-body strength to do all of these fancy hand-stand style break dancing moves, so we had to ask them: How are you guys this strong already? Their answer: Karate.
Unbeknownst to us, Danny and Tommy's mother and father were both multi-degree black-belts. One of the awesome pieces of memorabilia that they showed us in their house subsequent to telling us these facts was a medal given to their father for performing 1,000 push-ups in a row. Once again, jaws were dropping everywhere. Todd and I knew that if we wanted to do what they did, and we DEFINITELY did, then we would have to start training. Who better to train us than some break dancing Korean kids, right? Exactly.
In a pretty short time, Todd and I could basically do everything Danny and Tommy could do. Not nearly as tight and impressive, but still, it took a lot for us to build up muscle strength we never had. Along the way, they also taught us what they knew about martial arts. Although they were never awarded belts, they were taught quite a lot from their parents, which was apparent by how disciplined they were. Sometimes we would spar. Danny would always win, as well he should. Sometimes, Todd or myself would beat/accidentally hurt Tommy, and then we had to run away from Danny--I've never run faster in my life, guaranteed.
Over the winter months, we still did the same sports activities. When it snowed, we stuck to football, sledding, and snow-ball fights. Unfortunately, we can't really do the latter two at any other point throughout the year, so that was definitely a little different. One day in January, Todd and I had a massive war-like snowball fight between Danny and Tommy. We were going at it for hours with strategy, snow forts, and slush buckets (for those unfamiliar with this term, it's when you fill a bucket with mostly water, and dip the snow in the water to give that extra explosion on connected throws). At some point it got too dark to continue; we called a "truce" and went inside expected to have more fun the next day.
That next day, I went over to Todd's. He lived right across the street from Danny and Tommy, and ever since we were even younger kids, we would make sure we were accounted for before doing anything with anyone else. Once he was ready, we went right over to knock for Danny and Tommy, but there was some strange things we noticed: their basketball net was gone, their cars were gone, and there was an eeriness as we went up to knock on their door. Even though we figured they weren't home, we knocked anyway. No one answered. We attempted the same thing for the next couple days until we noticed a new tenant was entering the house.
Danny and Tommy were gone.
( 12 years later; 2 months ago )
Well, it's about that time, again. Every other year my family takes a trek to Disney World, and this is that "other year," though, at 23 years old, it's likely my last. Although we just flew (some of us for the first time in a long time) for my brother's wedding down in the Virgin Islands, my mom and dad still wanted to drive down to Florida. Ugh. For those wondering: 18 straight hours in a car can sometimes feel like the equivalent of water-boarding. After the first 10 hours of the same road you feel like screaming, "I'LL TELL YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT, JUST DON'T DO THIS TO ME ANYMORE!!"
Before heading onto I-95, that seemingly limitless road I just mentioned, we decided to hit Wawa for dinner. (For those that are not from the Northeast quadrant of the US [or Kissimee, Florida]: 1. Why are you reading MY blog? You haven't figured out that I suck, yet? 2. Wawa is a convenient store recognized as the second best convenient store in the country next to some place in Tulsa. You can get gas, customize your own sandwiches, soups, panninis, etc. for someone else to make, get drinks, get fruit, get odds-and-ends, get cash from an ATM for free, be merry, etc. In other words, if you've never been to one, get yourself to this side of the country/world/wherever you are and try this stuff. And for low prices! Yes, I know I sound like a spokesman--I'm not--but you'll understand my enthusiasm once you give it a try.) My dad and I entered. He made sure to get the coffee for my mother, and I made sure to get the sandwiches. When I went back to the coffee counter to assist my dad, I noticed a familiar face that popped out of their back room. It was Danny. No mistaking him. He looked/looks exactly the same as 12 years ago. I say to my dad, "Please tell me I'm not out of my mind, that's Danny, right?" My dad looks over, and we both walk over to semi-creepily ask, "Are...are you Danny?" He looks right at me and goes, "PAT?!?! No way!" We talk briefly about how everything is going. I was so shocked to see him that I practically and spontaneously contracted PTSD. (Yes, I know what PTSD is, and I know that the following symptom doesn't necessarily correlate. I was attempting a joke. Please don't hurt me.) My dad and I left the wawa to start our trek down to DW, and I DIDN'T REMEMBER TO GET HIS NUMBER! While my dad started the drive, I frantically texted Todd--after all these years, we remained really close, and a lot of that had to do with not...mysteriously...vanishing... Todd let me know that he planned to go to that specific Wawa, since Danny clearly worked there, to see if he could see Danny, but at the very least, nab his number.
About a week later, I had just returned back from a very relaxing and eventful Disney trip (minus the driving), and Todd texts me to let me know that we plan to all meet at a bar not far away to meet as a group for the first time in 12 years--he got Danny's number, I couldn't believe it. Once we arrived, and after calming down from the nostalgia, Danny let us know--long-story short--that his parents spontaneously divorced and moved away. Danny and Tommy were forced to live with their grandparents for the better part of the next 7 or so years until Danny was able to provide for himself and his brother. Tommy, who we didn't get to see that night, turned out to be a phenomenal basketball player--he was terrible when we were little--who received scholarship to play for Syracuse! Unfortunately, he suffered an injury that kept him from playing, but the story itself was both sad and incredible. They literally rose from the ashes and made great things out of themselves. Tommy lives up in New York, and Danny lives in Northeast Philly, and is ready to enter bootcamp for the Army in late December.
Do you remember your first love? Perhaps, first crush of some kind? Remember how you felt when they went away, broke up with you, or disappeared? Did you ever wonder what it would be like to see them again, talk to them again, etc? You probably talked a lot about them like they were gods/goddesses, or maybe you kept those great memories to yourself. Although it wasn't a romantic tie, Danny and Tommy were those memorable best friends that Todd and I were lucky enough to have in our lives growing up. I won't speak for Todd, but I talked about Danny and Tommy to hundreds of subsequent friends of mine like they were the first known Pegasuses ever to be seen with the human eye. To me, they were legends. In the little time they were around before their disappearance, they aided in forming me.
So, why have I said all of this? Well, it's simple. A lot of people take the past for granted. A lot of people assume that we should never go back to the past and to always stay in the present. But, the fact is, the PAST you IS the PRESENT you. There is no present "you" without the past "you." I'm not saying to harp on all the bad events that have potentially plagued you for the rest of your life, I mean LEARN from them. Remember them always. Never forget they happened, because the lessons that you learned from the past will ultimately aid in your decision making for the future. Though it was sad to see them go when I was younger, I never forgot these friends. I never forgot the lessons I learned from having these friends. I never forgot how strange the time was after their disappearance and the certain things I learned about myself. I know this doesn't sound like anything new or profound. It's not meant to be. I just think this is a good reminder that just like bad things, there's an equal chance of good or great things coming back into your life. LIVE for those potentials, and the potential of meeting other great people and experiencing other great moments. I say this because I think as we all get older, THOSE MOMENTS are what keep us going. Yeah, that girl, guy, ex-friend/ex-best friend, ex-fiance, etc. might have been COMPLETE assholes at the end of your time together, but ask yourself this question: would you really take those times you spent with them away? I know I told an ultimately happier story, and that this kind of emotional depth is probably not what you expected, but it's related and important.
No matter what a person did to me in my life--whether they benefited me or harmed me--I won't forget any of them. I can't. If I do, then I feel like I lose. A lot of people have come up to me regarding my negative past to say, "If you let them affect you, then they've won." Wrong. I 100% disagree. If I DIDN'T let them affect me, then I've lost. I also don't think we should just remember the good things. Good things are phenomenal, but they can aid in our ignorance. When we get cut, our bodies create a stronger fold of skin called a scar. Key word: stronger. When we get hurt emotionally, yeah, the pain might linger, but once you're healed, you'll be stronger than ever. Sometimes that strength changes us a bit, but that's life. We shouldn't fear change. If your friends stop being your friends because of the change, then chances are they weren't much of friends to begin with.
This post kind of ended in a long tangent, but for those that continued reading: Thanks! It may have made you a bit introspective. If you're not used to that, a good night's sleep will do. You'll forget all of this by morning. =P
- PatInTheHat
Danny and Tommy were whirlwinds. If any of you thought I was hyper-active, then with these two combined, in comparison, you could have practically created a tornado. Danny is two years older me, and at the time he towered over Tommy and my other childhood best friend Todd. Every single day, if we had the chance, we'd create some activity that involved half of the neighborhood. Whether it was football, soccer, wiffle ball/stick ball, basketball, hacky-sack, you name it, we did it.
Over the next couple years we all bonded and got really close. We even got into little nerdy games like Yu-Gi-Oh! One thing that impressed Todd and I the most about these two: their incredible ability to break dance. Tommy was only 9 years old, and Danny was between 12 and 13 years old, and these kids already looked like pros. I mean, I was 11ish so anything where anyone was performing acrobatics of any kind probably made my jaw drop in wonderment. Todd and I knew that they had really decent upper-body strength to do all of these fancy hand-stand style break dancing moves, so we had to ask them: How are you guys this strong already? Their answer: Karate.
Unbeknownst to us, Danny and Tommy's mother and father were both multi-degree black-belts. One of the awesome pieces of memorabilia that they showed us in their house subsequent to telling us these facts was a medal given to their father for performing 1,000 push-ups in a row. Once again, jaws were dropping everywhere. Todd and I knew that if we wanted to do what they did, and we DEFINITELY did, then we would have to start training. Who better to train us than some break dancing Korean kids, right? Exactly.
In a pretty short time, Todd and I could basically do everything Danny and Tommy could do. Not nearly as tight and impressive, but still, it took a lot for us to build up muscle strength we never had. Along the way, they also taught us what they knew about martial arts. Although they were never awarded belts, they were taught quite a lot from their parents, which was apparent by how disciplined they were. Sometimes we would spar. Danny would always win, as well he should. Sometimes, Todd or myself would beat/accidentally hurt Tommy, and then we had to run away from Danny--I've never run faster in my life, guaranteed.
Over the winter months, we still did the same sports activities. When it snowed, we stuck to football, sledding, and snow-ball fights. Unfortunately, we can't really do the latter two at any other point throughout the year, so that was definitely a little different. One day in January, Todd and I had a massive war-like snowball fight between Danny and Tommy. We were going at it for hours with strategy, snow forts, and slush buckets (for those unfamiliar with this term, it's when you fill a bucket with mostly water, and dip the snow in the water to give that extra explosion on connected throws). At some point it got too dark to continue; we called a "truce" and went inside expected to have more fun the next day.
That next day, I went over to Todd's. He lived right across the street from Danny and Tommy, and ever since we were even younger kids, we would make sure we were accounted for before doing anything with anyone else. Once he was ready, we went right over to knock for Danny and Tommy, but there was some strange things we noticed: their basketball net was gone, their cars were gone, and there was an eeriness as we went up to knock on their door. Even though we figured they weren't home, we knocked anyway. No one answered. We attempted the same thing for the next couple days until we noticed a new tenant was entering the house.
Danny and Tommy were gone.
( 12 years later; 2 months ago )
Well, it's about that time, again. Every other year my family takes a trek to Disney World, and this is that "other year," though, at 23 years old, it's likely my last. Although we just flew (some of us for the first time in a long time) for my brother's wedding down in the Virgin Islands, my mom and dad still wanted to drive down to Florida. Ugh. For those wondering: 18 straight hours in a car can sometimes feel like the equivalent of water-boarding. After the first 10 hours of the same road you feel like screaming, "I'LL TELL YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT, JUST DON'T DO THIS TO ME ANYMORE!!"
Before heading onto I-95, that seemingly limitless road I just mentioned, we decided to hit Wawa for dinner. (For those that are not from the Northeast quadrant of the US [or Kissimee, Florida]: 1. Why are you reading MY blog? You haven't figured out that I suck, yet? 2. Wawa is a convenient store recognized as the second best convenient store in the country next to some place in Tulsa. You can get gas, customize your own sandwiches, soups, panninis, etc. for someone else to make, get drinks, get fruit, get odds-and-ends, get cash from an ATM for free, be merry, etc. In other words, if you've never been to one, get yourself to this side of the country/world/wherever you are and try this stuff. And for low prices! Yes, I know I sound like a spokesman--I'm not--but you'll understand my enthusiasm once you give it a try.) My dad and I entered. He made sure to get the coffee for my mother, and I made sure to get the sandwiches. When I went back to the coffee counter to assist my dad, I noticed a familiar face that popped out of their back room. It was Danny. No mistaking him. He looked/looks exactly the same as 12 years ago. I say to my dad, "Please tell me I'm not out of my mind, that's Danny, right?" My dad looks over, and we both walk over to semi-creepily ask, "Are...are you Danny?" He looks right at me and goes, "PAT?!?! No way!" We talk briefly about how everything is going. I was so shocked to see him that I practically and spontaneously contracted PTSD. (Yes, I know what PTSD is, and I know that the following symptom doesn't necessarily correlate. I was attempting a joke. Please don't hurt me.) My dad and I left the wawa to start our trek down to DW, and I DIDN'T REMEMBER TO GET HIS NUMBER! While my dad started the drive, I frantically texted Todd--after all these years, we remained really close, and a lot of that had to do with not...mysteriously...vanishing... Todd let me know that he planned to go to that specific Wawa, since Danny clearly worked there, to see if he could see Danny, but at the very least, nab his number.
About a week later, I had just returned back from a very relaxing and eventful Disney trip (minus the driving), and Todd texts me to let me know that we plan to all meet at a bar not far away to meet as a group for the first time in 12 years--he got Danny's number, I couldn't believe it. Once we arrived, and after calming down from the nostalgia, Danny let us know--long-story short--that his parents spontaneously divorced and moved away. Danny and Tommy were forced to live with their grandparents for the better part of the next 7 or so years until Danny was able to provide for himself and his brother. Tommy, who we didn't get to see that night, turned out to be a phenomenal basketball player--he was terrible when we were little--who received scholarship to play for Syracuse! Unfortunately, he suffered an injury that kept him from playing, but the story itself was both sad and incredible. They literally rose from the ashes and made great things out of themselves. Tommy lives up in New York, and Danny lives in Northeast Philly, and is ready to enter bootcamp for the Army in late December.
Do you remember your first love? Perhaps, first crush of some kind? Remember how you felt when they went away, broke up with you, or disappeared? Did you ever wonder what it would be like to see them again, talk to them again, etc? You probably talked a lot about them like they were gods/goddesses, or maybe you kept those great memories to yourself. Although it wasn't a romantic tie, Danny and Tommy were those memorable best friends that Todd and I were lucky enough to have in our lives growing up. I won't speak for Todd, but I talked about Danny and Tommy to hundreds of subsequent friends of mine like they were the first known Pegasuses ever to be seen with the human eye. To me, they were legends. In the little time they were around before their disappearance, they aided in forming me.
So, why have I said all of this? Well, it's simple. A lot of people take the past for granted. A lot of people assume that we should never go back to the past and to always stay in the present. But, the fact is, the PAST you IS the PRESENT you. There is no present "you" without the past "you." I'm not saying to harp on all the bad events that have potentially plagued you for the rest of your life, I mean LEARN from them. Remember them always. Never forget they happened, because the lessons that you learned from the past will ultimately aid in your decision making for the future. Though it was sad to see them go when I was younger, I never forgot these friends. I never forgot the lessons I learned from having these friends. I never forgot how strange the time was after their disappearance and the certain things I learned about myself. I know this doesn't sound like anything new or profound. It's not meant to be. I just think this is a good reminder that just like bad things, there's an equal chance of good or great things coming back into your life. LIVE for those potentials, and the potential of meeting other great people and experiencing other great moments. I say this because I think as we all get older, THOSE MOMENTS are what keep us going. Yeah, that girl, guy, ex-friend/ex-best friend, ex-fiance, etc. might have been COMPLETE assholes at the end of your time together, but ask yourself this question: would you really take those times you spent with them away? I know I told an ultimately happier story, and that this kind of emotional depth is probably not what you expected, but it's related and important.
No matter what a person did to me in my life--whether they benefited me or harmed me--I won't forget any of them. I can't. If I do, then I feel like I lose. A lot of people have come up to me regarding my negative past to say, "If you let them affect you, then they've won." Wrong. I 100% disagree. If I DIDN'T let them affect me, then I've lost. I also don't think we should just remember the good things. Good things are phenomenal, but they can aid in our ignorance. When we get cut, our bodies create a stronger fold of skin called a scar. Key word: stronger. When we get hurt emotionally, yeah, the pain might linger, but once you're healed, you'll be stronger than ever. Sometimes that strength changes us a bit, but that's life. We shouldn't fear change. If your friends stop being your friends because of the change, then chances are they weren't much of friends to begin with.
This post kind of ended in a long tangent, but for those that continued reading: Thanks! It may have made you a bit introspective. If you're not used to that, a good night's sleep will do. You'll forget all of this by morning. =P
- PatInTheHat
Friday, November 21, 2014
Immigrants Are People, Too
Like every time someone named "Mr. President" makes a decision--you'll notice Obama and Bush's speech on immigration is quite similar(link below)--I'm pretty flabbergasted by the reaction of the American people against the immigration policy that Obama is trying to pass. I know it might be tough for some of you to agree with, so I figured I'll go over some of the "problems" the American people are saying the policy causes, and then I'll explain why those people are absolutely out of their mind.
1. IMMIGRANTS TAKE OUR JOBS!
Those that make this argument: I love you. From the bat, you're already providing enough evidence to prove your incompetence; therefore, arguing with you is useless, because you're probably useless. See, the thing about this far-spread idea is that it doesn't hold anyone else accountable. For one, the immigrant taking your job is probably better than you at it. Ya know why? Because the immigrant doesn't like to take what this country offers for granted and works really hard. You, Mr. White-Privileged-Individual, probably thought to yourself: "Oh, no tan-skinned spick(I'm using this word for effect) would ever take my job!" So you'd slack off--enough so that your boss notices, then fires you. In this scenario, does the immigrant in question take your job or do you lose it?
For those that make the argument that immigrants are cheaper labor, I'm sick of that one, too. The main reason businesses take these guys in is because of their EFFICIENCY and WORK ETHIC. Being able to hire them for less is just a bonus for those businesses--trust me, those smart business owners crunch the numbers and realize what's most effective. Tangent: I'm not saying this is, in any way, a fair practice, but more often than not these immigrants are willing to work for anything, because anything they had before was worse. This is a BUSINESS decision made by people of all shapes, colors, and sizes. What do I mean by that? Say you work at a bank, we'll call it Bank, for $13/hour as a teller. Those at Bank think you're a fantastic hard worker, but you're kinda getting sick of your managers--it's time to move on. Another bank, we'll call them Fargo, has someone working as a teller for $17/hour, but Fargo is getting sick of how that worker is doing their job. One day, you apply to Fargo for a new teller position. Since they don't know you all that well, they offer you the job for $15/hour. For you, that's a $2/hr raise, and for Fargo that's a $2/hr decrease in wage expenses each month/quarter. You quit the Bank job and take the offer from Fargo. Fargo consequently fires the crappy teller. See how this works? That's what's happening with those terrible, nasty immigrants.
2. I can't BELIEVE so many immigrants will be allowed to live here ILLEGALLY!
Those that make this argument: I hate you. You are more incompetent than the previous group, in that you must have never taken a history course in your life or just chose not to pay attention, that you literally make this country's IQ lower--I'm talking about the US of A, of course. Stephen Colbert sarcastically said it best with his segment on immigration: "My father didn't come here from Ireland to see this country run by immigrants!" (I may not have quoted that perfectly, but it's a close-enough paraphrase.) Are you a Native American? If yes, you have every reason to be angry with every party around you. We took YOUR land. YOU should have been treated better. On behalf of the empathetic American people still left: We're sorry. If no and you've said something like #2, then you're an idiot. ALL of your ancestors came from across the seas. You think they all came LEGALLY!? Are you of Irish decent? You think everyone from the Potato Famine that floated across the Atlantic to be in the US was WELCOMED LEGALLY?! The answer is no. And I'm really sorry that you don't know the facts on this one, you're just wrong. Go read a history book. Hell, even talking to someone fluent in your family tree might suffice. In the words of many teenage girls around the country: SorryI'mNotSorry.
For those that know the aforementioned facts and still feel this way, what are you afraid of? If it's an increase in violence or burglaries, etc., then that is yet to be determined. There were tons of people doing that before there were ANY of these "immigrant issues." Stop kidding yourselves: We live in a violent world, and it sucks. How to quell that part of our world? My best guess: Love.
There have been other things said like "overpopulation" and thoughts of that nature, but I won't comment on that other than to say there's plenty of room here. Overpopulation is more of a global problem altogether, but there are states in the mid-west with miles of open/un-owned land. Plus, it's not that we don't have systems in place for allowing immigrants into our country, it's just that the system is flawed. There are people of MANY nationalities that are still waiting on Green cards and visas that were applied for YEARS ago. It's just that our bureaucratic government is so slow at making decisions that these people never get here. Oh, but if, ya know, some not-so-wealthy athlete comes over here from Mexico to make millions with a ball club our government is automatically right on it and makes sure that they AND their family find residency in America. In other words, if you're going to be rich and make others rich, you're fine. But if you're coming here to find opportunities without the guarantee that you'll be rich, THEN GET THE HELL OUT! If that's the case, I guess I shouldn't be here either since my wealth isn't guaranteed. Eff that, I'm staying--I'm a real badass, after all. Yeah, that obviously makes sense.
No wonder Obama is allowing this. Even the immigrants-to-be think the current US system is so flawed that they're just like, "I guess I'll just sneak in, then." Obama's address told us a couple things: 1. He wants children to be raised by their parents even if they're immigrants(legal or not) and 2. Our border patrol sucks and it needs to be better. He said we need more border patrol, but will give those immigrants who got in illegally a free pass. In other words: you found our weakness, so you get a gold star for helping us see that problem( a brief word on why it can be one in a moment). On top of that: We're going to fix the problem.
But, Pat. Now it sounds like you're straddling the fence. First, you say it's not a problem. Now, you're implying there is one!?! MAKE UP YOUR MIND!
The only reason this immigrant situation is a problem is because of ISIS. If ISIS gets in through weak border patrol, we could be fucked. THAT, ladies and gentleman, is a REAL problem. Less people seem to be concerned about that, though. We just like talking about remedial issues that nag us. Those people bore me. /rant
-PatInTheHat
http://cnn.it/14YoC2Z
1. IMMIGRANTS TAKE OUR JOBS!
Those that make this argument: I love you. From the bat, you're already providing enough evidence to prove your incompetence; therefore, arguing with you is useless, because you're probably useless. See, the thing about this far-spread idea is that it doesn't hold anyone else accountable. For one, the immigrant taking your job is probably better than you at it. Ya know why? Because the immigrant doesn't like to take what this country offers for granted and works really hard. You, Mr. White-Privileged-Individual, probably thought to yourself: "Oh, no tan-skinned spick(I'm using this word for effect) would ever take my job!" So you'd slack off--enough so that your boss notices, then fires you. In this scenario, does the immigrant in question take your job or do you lose it?
For those that make the argument that immigrants are cheaper labor, I'm sick of that one, too. The main reason businesses take these guys in is because of their EFFICIENCY and WORK ETHIC. Being able to hire them for less is just a bonus for those businesses--trust me, those smart business owners crunch the numbers and realize what's most effective. Tangent: I'm not saying this is, in any way, a fair practice, but more often than not these immigrants are willing to work for anything, because anything they had before was worse. This is a BUSINESS decision made by people of all shapes, colors, and sizes. What do I mean by that? Say you work at a bank, we'll call it Bank, for $13/hour as a teller. Those at Bank think you're a fantastic hard worker, but you're kinda getting sick of your managers--it's time to move on. Another bank, we'll call them Fargo, has someone working as a teller for $17/hour, but Fargo is getting sick of how that worker is doing their job. One day, you apply to Fargo for a new teller position. Since they don't know you all that well, they offer you the job for $15/hour. For you, that's a $2/hr raise, and for Fargo that's a $2/hr decrease in wage expenses each month/quarter. You quit the Bank job and take the offer from Fargo. Fargo consequently fires the crappy teller. See how this works? That's what's happening with those terrible, nasty immigrants.
2. I can't BELIEVE so many immigrants will be allowed to live here ILLEGALLY!
Those that make this argument: I hate you. You are more incompetent than the previous group, in that you must have never taken a history course in your life or just chose not to pay attention, that you literally make this country's IQ lower--I'm talking about the US of A, of course. Stephen Colbert sarcastically said it best with his segment on immigration: "My father didn't come here from Ireland to see this country run by immigrants!" (I may not have quoted that perfectly, but it's a close-enough paraphrase.) Are you a Native American? If yes, you have every reason to be angry with every party around you. We took YOUR land. YOU should have been treated better. On behalf of the empathetic American people still left: We're sorry. If no and you've said something like #2, then you're an idiot. ALL of your ancestors came from across the seas. You think they all came LEGALLY!? Are you of Irish decent? You think everyone from the Potato Famine that floated across the Atlantic to be in the US was WELCOMED LEGALLY?! The answer is no. And I'm really sorry that you don't know the facts on this one, you're just wrong. Go read a history book. Hell, even talking to someone fluent in your family tree might suffice. In the words of many teenage girls around the country: SorryI'mNotSorry.
For those that know the aforementioned facts and still feel this way, what are you afraid of? If it's an increase in violence or burglaries, etc., then that is yet to be determined. There were tons of people doing that before there were ANY of these "immigrant issues." Stop kidding yourselves: We live in a violent world, and it sucks. How to quell that part of our world? My best guess: Love.
There have been other things said like "overpopulation" and thoughts of that nature, but I won't comment on that other than to say there's plenty of room here. Overpopulation is more of a global problem altogether, but there are states in the mid-west with miles of open/un-owned land. Plus, it's not that we don't have systems in place for allowing immigrants into our country, it's just that the system is flawed. There are people of MANY nationalities that are still waiting on Green cards and visas that were applied for YEARS ago. It's just that our bureaucratic government is so slow at making decisions that these people never get here. Oh, but if, ya know, some not-so-wealthy athlete comes over here from Mexico to make millions with a ball club our government is automatically right on it and makes sure that they AND their family find residency in America. In other words, if you're going to be rich and make others rich, you're fine. But if you're coming here to find opportunities without the guarantee that you'll be rich, THEN GET THE HELL OUT! If that's the case, I guess I shouldn't be here either since my wealth isn't guaranteed. Eff that, I'm staying--I'm a real badass, after all. Yeah, that obviously makes sense.
No wonder Obama is allowing this. Even the immigrants-to-be think the current US system is so flawed that they're just like, "I guess I'll just sneak in, then." Obama's address told us a couple things: 1. He wants children to be raised by their parents even if they're immigrants(legal or not) and 2. Our border patrol sucks and it needs to be better. He said we need more border patrol, but will give those immigrants who got in illegally a free pass. In other words: you found our weakness, so you get a gold star for helping us see that problem( a brief word on why it can be one in a moment). On top of that: We're going to fix the problem.
But, Pat. Now it sounds like you're straddling the fence. First, you say it's not a problem. Now, you're implying there is one!?! MAKE UP YOUR MIND!
The only reason this immigrant situation is a problem is because of ISIS. If ISIS gets in through weak border patrol, we could be fucked. THAT, ladies and gentleman, is a REAL problem. Less people seem to be concerned about that, though. We just like talking about remedial issues that nag us. Those people bore me. /rant
-PatInTheHat
http://cnn.it/14YoC2Z
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Icy Pond (Greatest Medal)
When I was twelve years old, I played for a traveling ice hockey team out of Northeast Philadelphia. The team was called the Bristol Blazers, but we played out of the newly created Flyers Skate Zone--which only opened a short time before I started with the team.
Since I played in-house leagues prior to participating in this new travel league, I was pretty confident that I'd be a decent fit on the team. After all, I was automatically sanctioned to the team's B division, because I signed up after try-outs. Putting brand-new pads and skates on felt amazing. At this point, it was about a year since the last time I was on the ice, so my excitement, as every second ticked by before my first skate with the team, was a mini-adrenaline rush. The Zamboni from the previous skate finally comes off the ice, and it was time for us to go on.
Since I played in-house leagues prior to participating in this new travel league, I was pretty confident that I'd be a decent fit on the team. After all, I was automatically sanctioned to the team's B division, because I signed up after try-outs. Putting brand-new pads and skates on felt amazing. At this point, it was about a year since the last time I was on the ice, so my excitement, as every second ticked by before my first skate with the team, was a mini-adrenaline rush. The Zamboni from the previous skate finally comes off the ice, and it was time for us to go on.
I face plant. Luckily I had a helmet on or my first concussion probably would have happened in the first second on ice with the team. I was the worst. It was like I completely forgot how to skate in a year. I would have fit better on the non-existent D team.
I finally caught my bearings at some point and proceeded to do all of the drills with the team. Stopping was a nightmare. Especially with the left foot (pertaining to my hand-eye coordination, I'm left-brained). At the end of the practice, I saw my dad, who watched the disaster that was my skating ability unfold. Even though I sucked--and, man, did I suck--I loved hockey. So, my dad looked into other ways to strengthen my skating ability.
I skated, in some capacity, almost every day of the week. Practices with the team only happened twice a week (Tuesdays and Thursdays) with games on Saturday mornings. I went up to Grundy--where the Bristol Blazers used to play--and participated in super rigorous skating exercises with this Mr. Feany guy (Yes, Feheheheeeeanay). I would also participate in two-a-day practices on team practice days. The coach for the team's A Division was nice enough to let me practice with his team right after practicing with mine. I became good fast. Real fast. So fast that I was skating as well as the A team's best player, who went to the AA team the following year. The league started around October and ended in March, so it took me about 5 months to get to something-from-nothing.
I finally caught my bearings at some point and proceeded to do all of the drills with the team. Stopping was a nightmare. Especially with the left foot (pertaining to my hand-eye coordination, I'm left-brained). At the end of the practice, I saw my dad, who watched the disaster that was my skating ability unfold. Even though I sucked--and, man, did I suck--I loved hockey. So, my dad looked into other ways to strengthen my skating ability.
I skated, in some capacity, almost every day of the week. Practices with the team only happened twice a week (Tuesdays and Thursdays) with games on Saturday mornings. I went up to Grundy--where the Bristol Blazers used to play--and participated in super rigorous skating exercises with this Mr. Feany guy (Yes, Feheheheeeeanay). I would also participate in two-a-day practices on team practice days. The coach for the team's A Division was nice enough to let me practice with his team right after practicing with mine. I became good fast. Real fast. So fast that I was skating as well as the A team's best player, who went to the AA team the following year. The league started around October and ended in March, so it took me about 5 months to get to something-from-nothing.
In March, the team went to Lake Placid to participate in an East Coast inclusive tournament. Somehow, I was one of the top goal-scorers on my team for the tourny. To get into the elimination bracket of the tournament, we had to play, beat, or tie the best team in the league. We won 6-4. I had two goals and two assists for the game. By far the best I played all season. Apparently, I was very vocal about how terrible I was earlier in the season. One of our team mom's of noticeably one of the better players/goal scorers on the team came up to me after the game and said, "You do not!!"
"What?"
"You do not suck! Don't you ever say you suck again! That was amazing!"
"What?"
"You do not suck! Don't you ever say you suck again! That was amazing!"
Needless to say, I was on cloud 9. We still had some tough games ahead of us, but in that moment, I knew that we could win this thing and that maybe, just maybe, I could actually help.
We got to the championship game, but lost in triple overtime. Everyone on the bench was devastated, but for some reason, I was not. We played our absolute best and got so close. It was still an amazing experience to play on the 1980 Miracle on Ice rink. I'll never forget it. We received silver medals that day, and the rest of the team made sure to sport them as we left our hotels to head back home to Philadelphia--we all joked about how we were wearing "bling" and that we were going to walk back into town like we're big shit. We were so cute.
A week back in Philly and everything felt back to normal again. Going to school. Doing homework. The usual boring stuff twelve year old kids do. I believe it was a Tuesday, and I just got home from school. My dad said I had received a letter from my coach. (As an aside: I didn't talk about my coach much in the story up to this point, but he was an incredibly nice guy and he really helped with my game development. He saw, and heard about from the A coach, my work ethic come to fruition first-hand.) The letter was a hand-written two-page script of encouragement. He told me that I could be the best hockey player out of anyone on the team if I kept my work ethic going out of anyone else. Up to that point, I never cried from happiness, but in that moment I did. Though it wasn't a medal at all, it was to me--the greatest one I've ever received.
A couple years later (4 to be exact) I stopped playing hockey. It was far too expensive for my family. Though I was unable to pursue ice hockey any longer, that letter from my coach is a constant reminder to me that I can do anything I put my mind to. He made sure to let me know that my work ethic greatly impacted the rest of the team, and that if I kept that mentality through life, then the sky is the limit. Lesson learned.
For those reading this, know that you CAN do anything you put your mind to. Get fired? Get knocked down? Get back up! Afraid to try something new in fear of being terrible? Don't be! Remember this story of a kid who practically crawled onto the ice the first time he was on an ice hockey team, but worked hard to achieve near greatness. You are your greatest asset so long as you believe it. Yes, it'll be hard, and it'll take time, but who cares? The greatest things in life to have take time and hard work. Whether it's a career, a relationship/friendship, a sport, they all take hard work. Please, do yourself this favor: Never give up. don't do it. Especially if it's something or someone you love. Don't give up.
- PatInTheHat
For those reading this, know that you CAN do anything you put your mind to. Get fired? Get knocked down? Get back up! Afraid to try something new in fear of being terrible? Don't be! Remember this story of a kid who practically crawled onto the ice the first time he was on an ice hockey team, but worked hard to achieve near greatness. You are your greatest asset so long as you believe it. Yes, it'll be hard, and it'll take time, but who cares? The greatest things in life to have take time and hard work. Whether it's a career, a relationship/friendship, a sport, they all take hard work. Please, do yourself this favor: Never give up. don't do it. Especially if it's something or someone you love. Don't give up.
- PatInTheHat
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
The Beginning of...
So, I decided to start a blog. Yippy.
When I was younger, I had this thing called a Xanga, where emo(in this context meaning depressingly sad) little girls and boys like myself decided to be annoyingly, and over emotionally, expressive. I was one of those annoying, attention seeking children. It was a dark time.
This blog will not resemble that lifestyle in the least. It will instead focus on two things:
1. Events in my life that have impacted me positively or negatively. This will be the part of the blog, likely on an every-other-post basis, where readers, if there are any *shrugs,* will learn about me and how/why I tick/tick the way I do. Lucky you, right? This past year has been an emotional roller coaster of sorts in my life. I've practically shunned most of my friends for the better part of the year while swerving in and out of dates. So, maybe, at the very least, I can enlighten the reading public on why my sanity turned seemingly to insanity and why it has been a bit of struggle to recapture that sanity in one form or another.
2. This part of the blog will likely be more fun for readers--this will be the ranting portion. For those that know me, EYE am highly opinionated--and that might be the understatement of the century. However, my opinions are STRICTLY based on facts that I read and learn about. Sometimes, and I have firmly admitted this on multiple occasions, facts that I thought were right were wrong. In this vast informational world we live in, facts can be skewed. Figuring out what is right and what is wrong is part of the struggle. We all take part in that struggle. With that said, I am very open minded. I'm like a scientist in that I siphon out "facts" that I feel like are worth mentioning. If those "facts" are proven wrong, I admit my faults, and continue on. I LOVE learning. I have this inner passion to constantly obtain KNOWLEDGE. So, if any of my rants lack the correct facts, I'd very much appreciate people keeping me honest. Just try not to berate my potential ignorance =). This section won't always be about really important things. Sometimes they'll probably be a little silly--a curiosity blog of sorts. And other times I'll get a little serious and rattle some minds (maybe). Also, bonus points if you acknowledged the hidden message of this paragraph.
This blog's setting will be open to the public, but I will only post a hyperlink to this blog through social media once per week. I'll likely write something every day, though, or at least as close to every day as possible as I see fit. So, happy readings! And thanks for flying PatInTheHat Express!
When I was younger, I had this thing called a Xanga, where emo(in this context meaning depressingly sad) little girls and boys like myself decided to be annoyingly, and over emotionally, expressive. I was one of those annoying, attention seeking children. It was a dark time.
This blog will not resemble that lifestyle in the least. It will instead focus on two things:
1. Events in my life that have impacted me positively or negatively. This will be the part of the blog, likely on an every-other-post basis, where readers, if there are any *shrugs,* will learn about me and how/why I tick/tick the way I do. Lucky you, right? This past year has been an emotional roller coaster of sorts in my life. I've practically shunned most of my friends for the better part of the year while swerving in and out of dates. So, maybe, at the very least, I can enlighten the reading public on why my sanity turned seemingly to insanity and why it has been a bit of struggle to recapture that sanity in one form or another.
2. This part of the blog will likely be more fun for readers--this will be the ranting portion. For those that know me, EYE am highly opinionated--and that might be the understatement of the century. However, my opinions are STRICTLY based on facts that I read and learn about. Sometimes, and I have firmly admitted this on multiple occasions, facts that I thought were right were wrong. In this vast informational world we live in, facts can be skewed. Figuring out what is right and what is wrong is part of the struggle. We all take part in that struggle. With that said, I am very open minded. I'm like a scientist in that I siphon out "facts" that I feel like are worth mentioning. If those "facts" are proven wrong, I admit my faults, and continue on. I LOVE learning. I have this inner passion to constantly obtain KNOWLEDGE. So, if any of my rants lack the correct facts, I'd very much appreciate people keeping me honest. Just try not to berate my potential ignorance =). This section won't always be about really important things. Sometimes they'll probably be a little silly--a curiosity blog of sorts. And other times I'll get a little serious and rattle some minds (maybe). Also, bonus points if you acknowledged the hidden message of this paragraph.
This blog's setting will be open to the public, but I will only post a hyperlink to this blog through social media once per week. I'll likely write something every day, though, or at least as close to every day as possible as I see fit. So, happy readings! And thanks for flying PatInTheHat Express!
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