It's Kind of Like...Cheese

Sometimes it's the time off of school that gets my brain jump-started. I don't think that's necessarily a good thing. With that in mind, I remembered a topic that I've been approached with on several occasions. If you have hitherto read any of my entries, you can probably tell I'm a fairly opinionated person. I would like to stress the fact, however, that my opinions aren't something I create just for kicks. I mean, I don't sit around and think, "You know, I really hate mallard ducks. yeah, that sounds right." That doesn't happen (just in case you, for some reason, thought that it did.) My opinions, just like anyone else's, are based largely on personal experiences revolving around that given topic. That being said, I would like to introduce you to my newest topic of discussion (and by discussion, I mean ranting, considering the fact that in a blog of this nature, very little discussion actually occurs.) That topic is: age.

There is a commonly held belief that after high school, age doesn't matter that much. And I would, to an extent agree. At the age of 18, it doesn't really matter, and perhaps the reason is because there is no legal ramification for a 18-year-old girl to be hit on by a man of age 27. Note: I made the distinction of LEGAL ramification, as that given scenario would probably have some social consequences...like....disgustingness (if anyone reading this is married to someone who is either 9 years older or younger, note that I'm speaking my personal opinion, and if it works for you...good on ya.)

The thing that brings this up is an experience I had the other weekend. I was hanging with friends, and I invited someone, who invited someone, who invited someone. The third someone happened to be in high school, and at the moment we found out, almost simultaneously, we took a big step backwards...like, physically. Her own words stated "it's no big deal," but I guess that's because she may not have had a grasp on the legal aspect of things. There's something wrong with 24-year-old guys hitting on high school girls. If you disagree, well, I would advise counseling.

Being 18 can be a rough time for a person. So much changes in an individual's life; I like to call it "second puberty." A magical transformation occurs when a person is forced to experience college life for a year or two. It's almost like when a pokemon gains enough experience and evolves. Yeah, I just dropped that reference. You know what, it would probably be better for everyone if you just forgot that I dropped that reference. Sports (I'm just hoping that bringing up that word makes you forget.) If you don't know the change that occurs, there's a good chance you haven't gone through it...or are going through it...or need to just grow up. Seriously.

Anyway, I can't really think of anything else to write right now. Call it writer's block, if you want. Call it a ham sandwich if you really want. I really need to stop writing, so that's what I'm going to do.

I yu cn re thi yu ne a lf

Alright, here's the deal. There are certain things in life which I enjoy, there are things I can tolerate, there are things that I stand, and there are things which I despise. Today, I'm going to take advantage of this...blog...thing...and explain about something that I despise. Hopefully I will also give a reason why I despise it, but I can never be too sure what's going to be written here.

I'm not exactly known for being someone who is "with it," in reference to pop culture. I get into social settings, and people throw around celebrities names like they're dirty rags (come to think of it, I'm pretty sure that some people are basically the same as dirty rags, but that's another discussion for another day), and all I can think to say is "So there's this new theory..." which will be followed by some excessively nerdy, most likely socially frowned upon theory (like the one where some people are beginning to believe that our universe is actually contained within a black hole that lies in another universe. Talk about WHOA.) Now, I don't mean to say that those who are more in touch with pop culture aggravate me. I don't mean that by any means. In fact, I don't mean that. What I DO mean is that there are certain things that have become popular, mostly with the younger people (by definition, those who graduated 2008 or later). Maybe someone can explain it to me, but why on earth do some people feel the need to abbreviate everything? I'll let you think on that for a minute.

Seeing as how I cannot govern the time that it'll take you to finish that sentence and start this one, I'll just trust that you took a moment to think of an answer to that question. Personally, I don't have an answer. It just boggles my mind. I mean, seriously. The other day I saw someone (on Facebook, but still) abbreviate the word "scooter." I tend to think of myself as one who can be particularly lazy when it comes to certain aspects of life. I don't like talking if I don't need to talk, partially because I'm afraid I'll say something stupid, but also partly because I'm lazy. But seriously, you can't say "er"? Is that one going to strain you to the point where you may question if you can go on? I mean, it's barely even a syllable. In fact, I daresay it's half a syllable (yes, English majors, I know you can't TECHNICALLY have half a syllable. It's for effect. You should know about that.)

There are any number of examples I could use...unfortunately I've been so scarred by them that I have subconsciously blocked those memories and cannot recall them at the present time. If you have any other examples of awful and unnecessarily abbreviated words, share. Seriously.

I'm calling out to those of you who cherish language. Call those who abbreviate out. Also, throw in some derogatory words. That's okay too (Caution: there may be some backlash when it comes to that. Hopefully you know that by know, but I'm just covering my bases.......All your base...)

It's entirely possible that this post is going to get amended as I am made aware of abbreviations. So feel free to check back. If you haven't noticed, I'm someone passionate about this topic. Let me finish by saying this: if you're abbreviating to be funny, or should I say "funny," go ahead and continue, but if you are abbreviating to try and sound cool, I just have one thing to tell you (on top of everything else I've written here), It's NOT working. Seriously.

That's my rant. I'm done....for now (duhn duhn duhn) that was supposed to be intense music or whatever. STOP LOOKING AT ME!!!

Wait...what?

Today I wanted to discuss something that has come up for me on quite the regular basis. It is a trait I possess which, in my opinion, can often come off in a way that is not intended. Those who know me well know about it, but it's often the people who I don't know with whom I get in trouble for it. This is the trait of memory. I'm going to be discussing how this trait affects me in both a social and an academic level.

I have some friends who said that they can, in the future, see me working as the guy who stands by a high-ranking politician, telling them the name of the individual who they are about to speak. You know, the guy that stands next to (insert politician's name), and when some weird looking lady walks up to him, just before he whispers "this is Lady Henrity von Hamstead, son of the famous Duke von Hamstead of northern Belgium. He invented the waffle iron." And then the politician can then address the person specifically, and the lady feels good because the politician "remembered" her. Now, I have to say, if I were to ever do that, I probably wouldn't be able to keep the job long, and this is why: the lady would walk up, and I'd say "This is Lady (blah blah blah), she's the daughter of (blah blah blah) and she's currently having intimate relations with your son." And then the politician would be all mad and start blowin' stuff up...like in the movies, and then I'd get blamed for some sort of international incident. At least it would give me another item to throw on my resume. "Causes international incidents." I hear a lot of employers are looking for that these days.

Anyway, let's get back to my original intentions. Here's how this affects me on a social level. I overhear someone talking about someone else. I quickly put some pieces of a puzzle together in my head and am able to associate a  name with a face. I see this person at a social event, say something to her (yes, let's be honest, 90% of the time it'll be a her. I don't see a ton of value, in my current setting, in remembering a bunch of dudes' names), and then she'll be like "what's your name?" I'll respond, and I'll say "You're ______, right?" And she'll get all creeped out and file a restraining order. All because I remember things and make connections quickly. Is there justice in the world? No. Well, sometimes. I think you'd be surprised how often this happens, except I've learned. If I know the person's name in any other way than from direct, personal contact, dont' tell the person I know the name. The situation above would be more like this: "what's your name?" "Ben, what's yours? Because...I....totally...don't know it...already." And then an awkward silence follows, and I ride off into the sunset. Don't believe me? Well, it's science.

Moving on to academics: I'm fairly confident that most academics are not necessarily designed to gauge someone's pure intellect, but they're more specifically designed to test the memory. Some might argue that they're directly connected. To that, I would respond "You're a witch!" and then burn you at the stake. Let that be a lesson to you. Don't connect unconnected scientific principles.
I'm firmly convinced that the only reason I do remotely well in my classes is because of my memory. I don't read text books. Period. Sure, I look at them, but that's about it. I gain as much information doing that as a bank teller would from cashing a check. Don't worry, the analogy didn't make sense to me either, but the meaning is still the same (Ben, you numskull, how can you relate something to an analogy that you don't even know the meaning of and say it means the same thing as something else? -- See what I did there? I took away your argument and made it myself. That's just good poetry. No, that's not poetry at all. Get a job.) But seriously, people, memory - good.

In closing, I just want to say a few things. First off, I'm crazy tired, so I'll probably read this entry another day and be firmly convinced I was on some sort of...drug. But I'm not, other than the drug of too much sun exposure, which isn't a drug (I hope.) Secondly, here's my advice: if you want to improve your memory, get a brain implant. I hear they're doing those these days. If that doesn't work, literally stare at any box of food and start memorizing nutrition facts. Sure, it may not be directly applicable to anything you'll ever need to recall, but then again, it might. That's all I'm trying to say.

If you're still reading this, well, I just don't know what to say to you...

Dancing the night away...literally.

With the coming of a new school year, there also comes a few additional, unavoidable activities. We have Utah Football (probably one of the greatest things ever), an influx in fraternity oriented activities, and so on. There is something ominously looming in the future...if you're careful, you can smell it in the wind. It's something in which I have participated at least twice the last 3 years (and before the mission). It's something that will absolutely happen at least once per year. At the risk of many ramifications, I'm going to admit what this is: the series of Lambda Delta Sigma barn dances. Now, I'm not going to spend an entire blog post relating my experiences with these, but there's something of and relating to these barn dances that I wish to discuss; it's something contained in the name, and that is dancing.

Over my few years in existence, I have received much many flak for my inability and/or unwillingness to participate in dance related activities. I'm going to take the opportunity to explain why.

Some of the comments I've heard are along the lines of  "you don't need to know how to do it! You just go in and start moving with the music!" Well, my friends, I can guarantee that I am moving in a different direction than the crowd, i.e. towards the door, but my motivation might not be what you think. As far as dancing goes, I place people in four categories:
1) Those who know how to dance (either because of formal lessons or just a state of being at one with the music)
2) Those who don't really know how to dance but can fake it.
3) Those who can't dance.
4) Those who can't dance but do any way.
I have noticed that a lot of people who would willingly put themselves in the fourth category, but, in reality, they belong in the second. In fact, experience has taught me that the majority of people fall in this category. Personally, I fall in the third category (unless it's car dancing, in which case all preconceived notions go out the window.) What I don't want to happen is the following: if people were to somehow force me to dance, I would suddenly find myself slipping from the third to the fourth category. If you notice, I've carefully structured the list to form a sort of hierarchy on dancing. Obviously, the higher you are, the better you are. However, no one is born in the fourth category. Through a series of their personal decisions, the place themselves in it.

I understand that some might argue that the people who fall into the fourth category just don't care what others think. To that I would respond: Well, how about I just stop showering. In fact, I will daily bathe myself in things like vinegar, lemon juice, and other strange-odored substances, and then I just "won't care" what people think. You say they're difference circumstances? Oh yeah? Well, YOU'RE a difference circumstance. Put that on your hand-crafted sandwich and eat it.

As far as my personal circumstances go, I choose not to dance for several reasons. I've discussed one of them (the fact that I can't do it, and I've accepted that fact, and I'm okay with it). Another reason why I don't dance is because I thrive off of structure. In dancing, especially dancing at stomps, there is no set structure. To me, it's like throwing me in the middle of a group of girls and yelling "Okay, now talk!" It's not something I do. In fact, I would probably just start making a series of unintelligible mumblings and periodic shouting, and then I would run out with my arms waving above me in the air. Now, on the other hand, if you put me in the same situation and said, "Okay, now talk....about (insert topic here)" I would be fine. In a similar vein, if you wrote down a bunch of numbers and said, "Okay, now math!" First off, I would say "What the crap are you talking about?" but after a brief period of confusion related to..strange...commands, I would probably start laughing because what ARE THOSE THINGS!? Whereas, if you throw a differential equation on a sheet of paper and tell me the same thing, I would be somewhat okay. (I think I'm going to start telling people to math a little more. And then while they're looking at me all confused-like, I'll run away with my arms flailing in the air and yelling.) So when there's music a-blaring, and people a-dancing, I stand there awkwardly, mumble stuff under my breath and then run out with my arms waving in the air. In certain situations, I may move a little, but I have been told that every time I dance, an orphan in Eastern Europe dies. Now, you wouldn't want to have that on your conscience, would you? Don't believe that that actually happens? Well, i just pray you will never have to experience it. It's not a pretty sight, especially for children (you know, since adults aren't really considered orphans). In the event that there is some structure to the dance, I am okay with it (unless it's the chicken dance. I will FREAK out any time I hear that.)

So this brings me back to the barn dance. I have discovered there are two types of barn dance. There's the square dance style, and the there's the country swing dance style. A word of advice: if you want to have fun at a country swing dance style event, don't invite me. I can make stupid comments and all that, as I usually do, but I refuse to dance. Bad things will happen. Like....bad...things.

In closing, let me just say this: if you are a fourth category dancer (you know who you are), please keep the arm flailing and leg kicking to a minimum. I'm sure you could figure out why. That is all.

Babies and Such

This post is going to seem a little scatter-brained, and so let me apologize in advance for that. I'm going to be covering two topics, one of which bothers me VERY much. Like, when I found out about this thing, I almost threw up in my mouth. I wish I were exaggerating when I say that, but I'm not. Yes, most of you may be thinking that this blog is generally devoted to less serious matters (well, I mean, if you can consider being held captive by cyborgs less serious), but I do say that I must spend some time discussing this..because...ew.

REALLY?! Bella is pregnant? I mean, consider my ignorant, but that's just...wow. I mean, it's beyond words, but considering that mockery is above regular words, I suppose it will have to suffice in my attempt to convey my thoughts on the matter. Yes, I must admit that I just discovered this faux pas in the plot yesterday. I don't think that makes me a bad person. I'm firmly convinced that what's her bucket writer of the Twilight Series didn't even intentionally have it happen. I know that in writing, there tends to be word vomit. You write something just real fast-like, and you don't even know what you read, but it just happens. I think that's what happened there. I sincerely hope that's what happened there. I mean, if you really think about it, the whole concept is severely disturbing. I'm not ignorant. I know how babies are made. They're delivered on a ray of sunshine that penetrates the home at first light, and suddenly a baby is lying on the floor, or some other equally capable baby carrying device. Sometimes it happens when it's planned, sometimes by mistake. There's no real way to tell.

But seriously, if what's her bucket bad acting, twitch lady (the one you call "Bella") and bad actor glitter boy, were...you know...I think we have a term for that. Yes, it's called necrophilia. Sure, some may say that he's "undead," and I just say "tomatoes, tomatoes" (if you could hear me saying that, it would be pronounced significantly differently. Undead = dead, in the same way that inflammable = flammable. She may as well exhume a corpse from the local cemetery, revive it, and have at it. Gross. Yeah. I'm not the one who initially wrote it. GROSS.

Okay, on a lighter topic, someone requested that I write my theory on where zombies came from. Trust me, the origins of zombies is a far lighter topic than doing the nasty dance with an undead (= dead) body. One of my good friends recently posted the following on Facebook:
          

Thanks to Wikipedia, I now know that Pope Formosus was exhumed and tried by Pope Stephen VI within a year of his death.

In response to that, I wrote the following:

 It was at that exact moment that the Zombies vowed their revenge on all humankind, except they can't really talk intelligibly, so it just sounded like a series of grumbles, and no one understood the threat

I suppose it would be more appropriate if I corrected myself and said that I will be talking about the feud between zombies and humans. So I'll elaborate a little. As my friend stated, Pope Forsomus was exhumed. Now, there are few things that zombies like less than having one of their friends brought back into the world of the living. Trust me, I asked. They like it even less when you bring one of their own back to the land of the living to be put on trial (it doesn't matter the form the trial takes.) They like it EVEN LESS if you bring one of their own back to the land of the living, try him, and it just so happens that while he was alive he was a major religious figure! Even the dead respect religion (which doesn't speak a lot about the people alive nowadays who have no tolerance for religion in general. You heard it here first folks, they're worse than zombies.) So, once the zombie nation (not the Rob Zombie nation. The real zombies look at Rob as a bit of a poser) heard of this treachery, they vowed revenge. It was only after that that they discovered their insatiable love for brains.

I mean, I don't mean to point fingers or anything, but we all know who to blame for the zombie epidemics of '78 and '93 (it's been proposed that the one in '93 was linked directly to the popularity of Nirvana, but we can't be too sure). So next time you have a brain thirsty zombie chasing after you, think back to this post. Just take a minute, reflect, and then get eaten, because we know it'll happen eventually. May as well get it over with, right? Right.

Well, there you have it (I've kind of noticed that I tend to finish most of my posts with that phrase.) Zombies. Mutant vampire babies. None of it really makes sense anyway.

Psychology at its Finest

In the universe, there are forces at work which exceed the understanding of mankind. There are the forces that compel the tectonic plates in their motion. There are the forces which make women avoid men who stare nightly into their windows, and there are even the forces that persuaded Martin Cohan and Blake Hunter to create "Who's the Boss?" Like I said. Some things just don't make sense, but I'm going to be discussing something I've recently spent time considering regarding forces in the world of psychology (that probably has nothing to do with what I'll write about, but the shoe fits...)

In the fear of having to forfeit a man card, I recently purchased a salad for the first time. And I'm not talking about a side-salad at Tony Roma's. I mean a full on salad. First time (I didn't actually purchase it. It was gifted to me, but the intent is the same.) Now, what is it about a salad that women are naturally drawn to? Sure, it's healthy and all that jazz, but I think there's something that's naturally ingrained within a woman's mind that subconsciously attracts them to the color green. I know that there are types of spinach or cabbage or whatever that aren't green, but I consider those non-green leaf based vegetables as enemies of the state (the state of being awesome, to be more specific.)

This got me thinking a little more. I know there is a force that drives two particles of matter together...or draws them together, not drives, because if it were to drive them together that would change the location of the force vector, which would be misleading at best . Why can't there be a force that drives women to salad? I mean, I don't know! And you don't know, so don't go off dismissing the claim just because I have no empirical evidence. If you do that, I'm going to adopt the standpoint that YOU don't exist. Yeah. Take that.

Along those similar lines, I had to start wondering if it were just green salads that women are drawn to, so I started wearing green shirts more often to try my luck...and much to my surprise, it WORKED! Or I thought it did...until I realized my friend had been telling people I like dudes (you know, because girls sometimes feel safer around guys who like other guys. You should have seen their faces when I started coming on to them.) (As a side note, those who know me can know the truth of that last statement....or lack of truth.)

One of the keys to a good theory is experimentation, so I'm going to need your help. If you happen to be female, I want you to get a piece of green construction paper, tape it to the wall, sit on a computer chair (or any other chair that has wheels) and make sure you're on like a wood or tile floor too, and then lift up your legs while staring intently at the piece of paper. Sit there for like 3 hours and check if you've moved any closer to the paper. It's for science, people. Take a hit. In fact, if you do this, I will personally reward you (I may or may not show up with a green shirt on.)

There you have it, folks. My latest scientific hypothesis. Prove me wrong, I dare you.

Onomatpoeiaeiuouieaopum

In life, there are many things that separate men from women. Many hours have been spent in the process of discovering them, and, in some cases, neutralizing them. I'm of the opinion that it's the differences in the roles of men and women that make the whole system work. Sure, this opinion is largely influenced by religion, but I can't help but apply some of the most logical resources and examples to influence that as well (I'm not going to go into any detail about which resources and examples I'm refering to, partly because that would be a waste of words, and secondly because if I don't cite sources it's a lot easi...harder to prove it wrong.) Now, I'm not intending to offend any, as I understand that certain aspects of the men v. women argument have been known to get a wee bit heated. My purpose in writing this is to simply raise awareness of a lesser known, although not any less important, difference between the two: the ability to make sound effects.

One of the my favorite party games, I have found, goes a little something like this:

Me: Hey, (girl's name), do your best impression of an explosion.
Girl: No, I'm nervous. (After some pushing). Ok. pkhhhhhh. (or boom). (Now, if you've never done this, you won't know how it sounds, so I advise you go out and perform this little experiment. In the rare occurrence that a girl does make a legitmate explosion sound, either marry her on the spot or begin running far, far away. Your choice.)
Naturally, the woman will want to make the guy do the same sound effect, in which he'll say something like this: pchhhewehhehheheeh. Something like that. Just start making the 'kh' sound and include a lot of back-throated phlegm and you should be good.

Now, I don't know if there's any sure-fire scientific explanation as to why males can typically make sound effects better than women. Perhaps it stems largely from the upbringing, given that males tend to gravitate towards a certain type of video game (or video games at all), while the girls are developing social skills or some other useless personality trait. I don't know if it has anything to do with a level of imagination which a young'un develops. I don't know if it has anything to do with how influenced a child is by "the streets." Perhaps it's just one of the anomalies in life (like how they get those BUBBLES INTO SODA!)

Personally, I'm inclined to believe it's simply a matter of exposure and mimicry. It's fairly obvious that if you know what a gun shot sounds like, your chances of recreating it increase dramatically. So, if you have been somewhere where gun shots abound, you could recreate them. Now, I'm not saying that if you're around a lot of gunfire, you, too, should fire guns...especially not at other people. Murder is bad. I just need to get that out of my system.

So if you, or anyone you know, has a desire to expand their ability to recreate certain noises, exposure is the best option. Put gun shot noises on your iPod and listen to them while at work. Heck, even practice a little. Sure, people might think you're going crazy, but it's entirely possible that they thought that anyway. Science says that the most fundamental sound effect for one to learn is the gun shot. Everything else stems from there. Just remember me in thirty years when you're doing it for a living...because I'll probably still be sitting...right here...writing about sound effects again.