There are certain personality traits that I just can't seem to find a purpose behind. These are personality traits like being excessively needy, always feeling the need to talk loudly (have you ever been around someone who just can't seem to figure out how to whisper? Imagine being in a physics class and having someone say, "Man, I was sweaty.") , and, in all reality, I can't quite see the need for sarcasm. I'm not talking about the types of comments people often make that others deem as "sarcasm," but I'm talking more specifically about genuine sarcasm. As defined, sarcasm has to have an element of scorn, and that "sarcasm" term that people tend to throw around definitely does not encompass the true meaning of the word.
In complete reality, what is the point of sarcasm? I mean, sure it serves its purpose of allowing those of us passive-aggressive individuals (yes, I fall into that category...hence the usage of the word "us".) to discharge our backed-up rage, and possibly affords the occasional laugh at another person's expense, but aside from that, I see about as much of a point to sarcasm as I do to it's counter-part, the sarcasm detector.
I don't intend to make this post dedicated to my feelings towards sarcasm. I'm sure that some of you reading this are currently labeling me as a hypocrite, as some would use the word sarcastic to describe my personality (However, I have discovered that generally speaking it's the social definition of sarcasm that tends to be applied the most liberally and not that of the proper sarcasm.) These first few paragraphs I have written to provide an overly-extensive introduction into how if sarcasm shouldn't have a genuine place in today's society, how much less of a place should it have as a super-power (how many of you saw THAT coming?)
As a general rule, super heroes/villains are born out of some tragedy or science experiment gone wrong. How would one with Super-Sarcasm be created? Perhaps they were raised in an always-happy society, and one of these always-happy people killed his/her parents, and so to exact his vengeance, his/her ability to use sarcasm reached such a level as to be deemed "super." I just can't imagine an ability like this being caused by exposure to some toxic chemical. Rich people tend to be sarcastic...perhaps SUPER rich people are SUPER sarcastic. The world may never know.
I think that one of the determining factors that places a power in its proper place in the hierarchy of awesome powers is what would be needed to counteract it. For example, Spiderman had an enemy called Scorpion whose acid could melt Spiderman's webs. What would you use to battle super sarcasm? Really high self-esteem? I just don't think a villain could reach the levels of super villain if all that's needed to battle him is a guy that feels really good about himself.
So, like it should have no place in common society, sarcasm definitely doesn't belong in the super-hero realm. If it doesn't belong in either of those, I don't really know where it would go. Maybe Denver?
Monday, January 31, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The Numerical Caste System
I'm going to be up front with all you people: I don't have a definite topic for today's post. Instead, I'm going to be discussing a couple different topics of which I've been thinking. I'm not going to write some overly-lengthy post at the beginning here, so let's get right down to it.
First off, I've been strangely addicted to another individual's blog. Those who know me know that one of my more visible qualities is my nerdiness. The blog falls in line with what I love. If you're interested, check it out: vihart.com. I love it. I love the number games. I love the elegance that is evidenced by all of it. It's another signal to me that there is a higher power behind it all, organizing the beauty behind it. With that in mind, I started thinking about prime numbers. More specifically, do you think prime numbers get lonely? Or possibly do they get jealous of all the other numbers? I mean, all those other numbers are constantly mixing and mingling with all the other numbers, but the prime numbers are destined to only be with them and the number 1, who we all know is the loneliest of all numbers. Maybe the number 1 is kind of like Eor from Winnie the Pooh. He's kind of annoying to be around because you feel obligated to constantly remind him that he's not as bad off as he tends to think he is. I mean, we all have an obligation to strengthen those around us, but we all have our limits.
On the other hand, perhaps prime numbers have a certain sense of elitism. They're the Brahman of all numbers, which makes me wonder which numbers would be the pariahs, but that's another topic for another day. I mean, after all, the prime numbers can only be divisible by themselves and one. If they're not being divided by anything but themselves, while all other numbers are being divided by who knows how many other numbers, these primes hold strong. After all, there is a race of superior robotic life forms who claim the "Primes" to be their chiefs and leaders. Maybe we could learn a thing or two from them.
And what's up with that number Zero. I mean, he both exists but is unquantifiable. It's like he's there but not there at the same time. He's like the creepy guy that sits in the corner who is all mysterious, but for some reason he gets all the girls. I would also imagine him to be kind of emo. Tight jeans, long-ish dark hair. Maybe even weird, dark make-up. There's no way to be sure. I also would imagine him saying stuff like, "We don't even know who we are, man!" or "What IS reality?!" And then he has some melancholic look come across his face as all the women swoon.
The number Two would be the dirty rag. I don't feel like I need to explain that any further.
Sometimes I just wish I could show those dang prime numbers how difficult they are sometimes.
First off, I've been strangely addicted to another individual's blog. Those who know me know that one of my more visible qualities is my nerdiness. The blog falls in line with what I love. If you're interested, check it out: vihart.com. I love it. I love the number games. I love the elegance that is evidenced by all of it. It's another signal to me that there is a higher power behind it all, organizing the beauty behind it. With that in mind, I started thinking about prime numbers. More specifically, do you think prime numbers get lonely? Or possibly do they get jealous of all the other numbers? I mean, all those other numbers are constantly mixing and mingling with all the other numbers, but the prime numbers are destined to only be with them and the number 1, who we all know is the loneliest of all numbers. Maybe the number 1 is kind of like Eor from Winnie the Pooh. He's kind of annoying to be around because you feel obligated to constantly remind him that he's not as bad off as he tends to think he is. I mean, we all have an obligation to strengthen those around us, but we all have our limits.
On the other hand, perhaps prime numbers have a certain sense of elitism. They're the Brahman of all numbers, which makes me wonder which numbers would be the pariahs, but that's another topic for another day. I mean, after all, the prime numbers can only be divisible by themselves and one. If they're not being divided by anything but themselves, while all other numbers are being divided by who knows how many other numbers, these primes hold strong. After all, there is a race of superior robotic life forms who claim the "Primes" to be their chiefs and leaders. Maybe we could learn a thing or two from them.
And what's up with that number Zero. I mean, he both exists but is unquantifiable. It's like he's there but not there at the same time. He's like the creepy guy that sits in the corner who is all mysterious, but for some reason he gets all the girls. I would also imagine him to be kind of emo. Tight jeans, long-ish dark hair. Maybe even weird, dark make-up. There's no way to be sure. I also would imagine him saying stuff like, "We don't even know who we are, man!" or "What IS reality?!" And then he has some melancholic look come across his face as all the women swoon.
The number Two would be the dirty rag. I don't feel like I need to explain that any further.
Sometimes I just wish I could show those dang prime numbers how difficult they are sometimes.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
'Tis Time to be Thankful
Today is definitely one of my favorite days of the year. Thanksgiving. Perusing Facebook posts yields public affirmations of what people truly appreciate...at least for this one day. I feel like I have a lot to be thankful for, but I never think that Facebook is the best place for me to discuss them, as the things I tend to focus on aren't on the macro scale. Sure, I'm thankful for the things like family, shelter, food, a good job, school, etc., but I tend to try to think of the frequently overlooked commodities in life. In this post I'm going to discuss just a couple things I'm thankful for and why I appreciate their existence.
First, I would like to express my gratitude for new socks. Sure, clothes in general are a wonderful thing, and I love socks, but I don't feel like there is anything more luxurious than the feel of new socks (sure, some of you may argue that living in a mansion with maids and butlers and gold door knobs and ivory...bathtubs and drinking fountains that can read your mind would be more luxurious, but for us normal folk, I would say new socks is definitely up there.) Let me ask you this question: have you ever been on a camping trip where it gets bleeding cold at night? Have you ever changed into a new pair of socks right before going to bed? Well, if you haven't, I would HIGHLY recommend that you do so, because it is heaven. Serious. Like, when I think of heaven, I think of new socks...and possibly all-you-can-eat pudding... preferably not out of the socks, but I'm not entirely opposed to that idea. So, socks = good.
Second, I want to express my gratitude for the concept of tolerance. No, I'm not talking about tolerance as it's most frequently used in the media these days. I'm talking more about the concept of tolerance for bad humor, and how much of it I make my friends put up with. Seriously. Let me give you an example: I was at a friends house, and someone said to someone else (not me) "looks like you're on the hot-seat," and I added, "literally, you're on the hot seat...because you're sitting in front of the fireplace." Awful, although it was followed by a weird arm-shake dance thing. I mean, in a world where people didn't tolerate bad humor, I likely would have been shot on the spot, even though there's little to no chance that I would have made it past my 9th birthday. So people, thank you for tolerating.
Third, I want to say how grateful I am for the fact that my car hasn't exploded. Sure, it's not TECHNICALLY my car, but the meaning is the same. Let me let you in on a little routine that goes through my head when I'm leaving for work. I get my badge, car keys, and then think "Gee, I really hope my car doesn't explode while I'm in it today." And it has yet to do that. I have to admit, however, that I would probably just laugh hysterically if it were to explode. I mean, I've been telling people it's going to happen for years now, and it hasn't yet. Hopefully by writing this I'm not jinxing myself. Keep your fingers crossed, people.
Lastly, and on a lot more serious note, I want to thank the people that help make my life worthwhile. I've been richly blessed with talents and abilities, but in my eyes, all of that would be worthless if I didn't have people around me to give me opportunities to use those talents for a greater good. So, if you're one of the people who has allowed me to be a part of your life, I wish to offer you my sincerest and most humble thanks. I can pretty much guarantee that I have gained far more as a result of it than I possibly could have given back. Also, I want to thank all you people for putting up with my sometimes less-than-welcoming nature (by that, I mean the rude comments I make betimes. It's never intended maliciously; I can guarantee that.) So if you've been the recipient of one of those types of comments, thank you for not murdering me. I genuinely appreciate it.
I wish everyone the happiest of Thanksgivings possible. Let's have today be the beginning of a year full of thanksgiving and not allow it to be limited to a single day.
Oh yeah, and Go Utes!
First, I would like to express my gratitude for new socks. Sure, clothes in general are a wonderful thing, and I love socks, but I don't feel like there is anything more luxurious than the feel of new socks (sure, some of you may argue that living in a mansion with maids and butlers and gold door knobs and ivory...bathtubs and drinking fountains that can read your mind would be more luxurious, but for us normal folk, I would say new socks is definitely up there.) Let me ask you this question: have you ever been on a camping trip where it gets bleeding cold at night? Have you ever changed into a new pair of socks right before going to bed? Well, if you haven't, I would HIGHLY recommend that you do so, because it is heaven. Serious. Like, when I think of heaven, I think of new socks...and possibly all-you-can-eat pudding... preferably not out of the socks, but I'm not entirely opposed to that idea. So, socks = good.
Second, I want to express my gratitude for the concept of tolerance. No, I'm not talking about tolerance as it's most frequently used in the media these days. I'm talking more about the concept of tolerance for bad humor, and how much of it I make my friends put up with. Seriously. Let me give you an example: I was at a friends house, and someone said to someone else (not me) "looks like you're on the hot-seat," and I added, "literally, you're on the hot seat...because you're sitting in front of the fireplace." Awful, although it was followed by a weird arm-shake dance thing. I mean, in a world where people didn't tolerate bad humor, I likely would have been shot on the spot, even though there's little to no chance that I would have made it past my 9th birthday. So people, thank you for tolerating.
Third, I want to say how grateful I am for the fact that my car hasn't exploded. Sure, it's not TECHNICALLY my car, but the meaning is the same. Let me let you in on a little routine that goes through my head when I'm leaving for work. I get my badge, car keys, and then think "Gee, I really hope my car doesn't explode while I'm in it today." And it has yet to do that. I have to admit, however, that I would probably just laugh hysterically if it were to explode. I mean, I've been telling people it's going to happen for years now, and it hasn't yet. Hopefully by writing this I'm not jinxing myself. Keep your fingers crossed, people.
Lastly, and on a lot more serious note, I want to thank the people that help make my life worthwhile. I've been richly blessed with talents and abilities, but in my eyes, all of that would be worthless if I didn't have people around me to give me opportunities to use those talents for a greater good. So, if you're one of the people who has allowed me to be a part of your life, I wish to offer you my sincerest and most humble thanks. I can pretty much guarantee that I have gained far more as a result of it than I possibly could have given back. Also, I want to thank all you people for putting up with my sometimes less-than-welcoming nature (by that, I mean the rude comments I make betimes. It's never intended maliciously; I can guarantee that.) So if you've been the recipient of one of those types of comments, thank you for not murdering me. I genuinely appreciate it.
I wish everyone the happiest of Thanksgivings possible. Let's have today be the beginning of a year full of thanksgiving and not allow it to be limited to a single day.
Oh yeah, and Go Utes!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Creaky Joints? Here's the Solution.
There are few things in this life as predictable as weather: gas prices, thoroughbred horse racing, women, hot pockets (what?), but I do not intend to dwell upon the more finicky aspects of life and chance. With the cold season (weather, not disease) approaching, and because there seems to be so much discussion about the bad elements thereof, I want to discuss briefly some of the more favorable qualities of the winter season.
First, everyone is always giving me a hard time about how much time I spend in front of the computer. "You're so lazy," they say. "Why are you on your computer so much? Go outside." Well, during the winter season, all I have to do is give one excuse, and one excuse alone: it's cold. And from 90% of my critics the response is, "yes, that's true. It is cold, but what does that have to do with you not going outside?" Usually, at this time I just storm off in a fit and start throwing things, not because I'm mad, but to make a point. What point is that? The fact that things break. I'm simply trying to educate here, people. We can't go about thinking that objects are indestructible...because they're not (unless you're throwing around an indestructible metal rod, in which case it won't break).
Anyway, the second thing I love about the weather is the benefit to the economy. Sure, a lot of travel agencies may suffer, like those giving trips to Yellowstone, but think of it this way: there is a definite boon for the chocolate industry. Sure, times like Valentine's Day and...other holidays may help them out quite a bit, but the increased demand for hot chocolate (maybe this is just my excessively Utahn paradigm coming out) surely must be something the chocolate accountants (don't be fooled: this means they're accountants for the chocolate company, not accountants made out of chocolate. Trust me, this is not a mistake you want to make) are grateful for. Also, I think that was the most broken up and hard to follow sentence I've written in a while. Just remember, parenthetical statements aren't planned, they just happen...kind of like some pregnancies.
The third thing I love about the winter is that I daily get to do battle with my nemesis: the wind. Sure, some of you may say "how can you have a nemesis that you can't see, grasp, or even fight?" Well, to you I say, Learn Newton's Laws, jerk. I will refute your comment thusly: I may not be able to see the wind, but it's not like the wind can see me. I mean, it doesn't even have eyes. So looks like we're on equal ground there. Also, you say I can't grasp the wind? Well, I guess that depends on whether you are referring to the concept of physically or intellectually grasping the wind. Because I understand it, so eat those words. And I fight the wind all the time, but most of the time I just do it by playing Starcraft. Trust me, it works. Or at least that's what I'll keep telling myself.
So there it is. Just like I said. Three things I like about winter. Sure, they may not "make sense," but they do, so there. If you have anything you also love about winter, feel free to comment it. In the mean time, I'm going to go do battle. ROCK!
Oh, one last thing, as promised, the solution to creaky joints is just putting a splint on every joint you have. They can't creak if they can't bend, right?
First, everyone is always giving me a hard time about how much time I spend in front of the computer. "You're so lazy," they say. "Why are you on your computer so much? Go outside." Well, during the winter season, all I have to do is give one excuse, and one excuse alone: it's cold. And from 90% of my critics the response is, "yes, that's true. It is cold, but what does that have to do with you not going outside?" Usually, at this time I just storm off in a fit and start throwing things, not because I'm mad, but to make a point. What point is that? The fact that things break. I'm simply trying to educate here, people. We can't go about thinking that objects are indestructible...because they're not (unless you're throwing around an indestructible metal rod, in which case it won't break).
Anyway, the second thing I love about the weather is the benefit to the economy. Sure, a lot of travel agencies may suffer, like those giving trips to Yellowstone, but think of it this way: there is a definite boon for the chocolate industry. Sure, times like Valentine's Day and...other holidays may help them out quite a bit, but the increased demand for hot chocolate (maybe this is just my excessively Utahn paradigm coming out) surely must be something the chocolate accountants (don't be fooled: this means they're accountants for the chocolate company, not accountants made out of chocolate. Trust me, this is not a mistake you want to make) are grateful for. Also, I think that was the most broken up and hard to follow sentence I've written in a while. Just remember, parenthetical statements aren't planned, they just happen...kind of like some pregnancies.
The third thing I love about the winter is that I daily get to do battle with my nemesis: the wind. Sure, some of you may say "how can you have a nemesis that you can't see, grasp, or even fight?" Well, to you I say, Learn Newton's Laws, jerk. I will refute your comment thusly: I may not be able to see the wind, but it's not like the wind can see me. I mean, it doesn't even have eyes. So looks like we're on equal ground there. Also, you say I can't grasp the wind? Well, I guess that depends on whether you are referring to the concept of physically or intellectually grasping the wind. Because I understand it, so eat those words. And I fight the wind all the time, but most of the time I just do it by playing Starcraft. Trust me, it works. Or at least that's what I'll keep telling myself.
So there it is. Just like I said. Three things I like about winter. Sure, they may not "make sense," but they do, so there. If you have anything you also love about winter, feel free to comment it. In the mean time, I'm going to go do battle. ROCK!
Oh, one last thing, as promised, the solution to creaky joints is just putting a splint on every joint you have. They can't creak if they can't bend, right?
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
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!!!
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!!!
Saturday, September 11, 2010
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...
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...
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