300

A lot of people are starting to talk about the End of Days. What do I think? I don't really believe it, mostly because of the fact that I think that its something that we can't predict. But at the same time I also believe that we all need to be prepared for what ever might come next.

With the way things are going with Iran right now I think that it is important to consider we might be at war with a country that has nuclear weapons. What the news won't tell you is that their first nuclear bombs won't be 1/100 the strength of our first tests. And that if we hit them just right, less than six bombs would destroy that whole country. I think its safe to say we can destroy one country to save countless others.

Hm, but I saw a documentary on how we could beat them...and it'll only take three hundred men.

Improvement

I don't have much to say right now. Just that I have been spending some time trying to get something done with the comic and the characters. Here is a drawing of one of them. It's not inked yet, but I think that the lines are pretty clean. What do you think?

Ockham's Razor

How many times have you witnessed someone telling you that they wanted to change things in their life? And then the next day they go right back to doing the same thing that they always do? If the thing that you are doing is not working and you have done it several times before, then the simple explanation is to do something different.

It's the principal of Ockham's Razor, the simplest explanation is often the right one.

Every girl that I know always says this, that this is the last time they are going to date 'a guy like that' and then they always run back to the same type of guy, sometimes the same guy. I know what you are all saying, that this is their own preference. But the problem is that by the time they are ready to try something new they are so put off by what they have been trying.

Women need to realize that they're just making themselves more bitter when they stay around with guys that mistreat them. And that there is usually at least one guy they know, who would date them, who they are ignoring. Now I am not going to tell you its fate or destiny. I don't believe in those things. I believe we do shit, sometimes we get it right, sometimes we get it wrong.

For any of you that believe in fate why do you do anything at all? I mean what's going to happen is going to happen...and it is much simpler to think that we are all effecting each other while the environment effects us than to think there is some grand plan and the placement of every molecule was planned out billions of years ago. Again Ockham's Razor.

And all of this goes back to what I started off saying, fate is not real, its not going to help you. If a guy treats you bad then you need to get off your ass and get out of there. What's more when you meet the person you fit with right, there might not be some spark or sign, you might not even take an immediate liking to each other. Instead of sticking what you know is wrong, why not try what very well might be right?

Don't Get Your Hopes Up

There's a school of thought that I have blatantly subscribed to since just about the time that I started Middle School. Many probably just call it a superstitious way to think, still others might think that its just a matter of our own perception, a watched pot never boils. But in my own mind I think it is safe to say that when you get your hopes up you almost undoubtedly get them crushed.

Hope is one of the things that keeps humans going, it keeps us from being down in the dumps all of the time. Even the pessimist sometimes has hope. But getting your hopes up is a different thing entirely. Its being so sure of something that you hope for that you rule out all other possibility, likewise, you prepare for only what you have hoped for. Setting yourself up for the panic disaster of the aftermath of what would be anything else.

Go figure that I would have actually gotten my hopes up a lot of times recently only to have them dashed. And while I don't believe in karma or fate, I do believe a little in probability. We as humans have a probability to hope for the least likely, or a less likely thing to happen.

When we get that hope up too high is when we have a problem. Now I am not saying that the best way to go through life is by becoming Descartes. I am trying to tell you that maybe if we didn't put our eggs all in one basket that things wouldn't be so bad. Life is a series of events, based on the choices we all make, and how they all play in together, but on top of that there are random events, freak accidents, unexpected surprises and such; that play into this equation every day. Maybe its a little much to get our hopes up that what we hope for is going to be just what we get. Hell, it might not even be what we need

Fame < Infamy

I think that much to the surprise of others my conversations with Prentiss don't involve video games, anime or things such as that. Last night was one such night, where we put aside our nerdy quandaries and discussed something that had to do with real life people and situations. This next part may not surprise you if you have read my posts for any length of time, the discussion came to women.

In regards to women, Prentiss and I are the same. We were never the type to think girls had cooties and most of our friends are female. I let out that I happen to detest most of the masculine population for various reasons. But we didn't try to dump all of the relationship problems off on men, although it would be the easy way out. I think that various problems are the doing of the women themselves. Like a girl who sticks around with a guy who is undoubtedly using her for sex or as his own personal skeet rag, is no better than the guy in the situation when she is told up front, by said guy what she is to him.

Much to her own accord, the warnings of friends, both female and male, go unnoticed and the girl in the end gets the raw end of the deal while the rawest end of the deal is passed on to us. Who is us? Well us is guys who are looking for something long term, who see no benefit in dating someone if there's no future in it. Anyone can get fucked, but what does it matter if you can't make love?

I know that this might be brash, this might sound to both men and women to be the pompous preachings of some little virgin who doesn't know the first thing about relationships...but I'm here to tell you that in that last regard, you're more than wrong. I have witnessed the down fall of relationships like the fall of angels from the blinding heights they once held. Angels who held more sway than Lucifer...and I can say this. No matter how good a relationship looks its not invincible if you think you're above knowing what to look out for.

Having mostly female friends has taught me a lot of about their side of things. And of course I know my side. Prentiss says we should write a book. I would actually be up for that. If gay guys can write books on dating women, why the Hell can't we?

Will I Ever Be Just A Memory?

There really hasn't been that much around me in the sense of encouragement as of late. I'm not sure what else I can say about it all. The thing about it is I have been doing better than I usually do with things like school, but then things with most of my friends aren't going so well. I think the only person that I am on really good terms with as far as my old friends go is Prentiss, and we've never been on bad terms.

Last night I talked to Tiffany, yes Tiffany...Prentiss' ex. She and I talked for a few hours actually and we shared a lot of what had gone on. I think she was shocked to hear how much some things had changed around here. And she let me in on a few secrets about girls, things I had thought but I wasn't sure if the girls actually noticed. Well, was I shocked to find out not only did they notice, they took it into consideration.

I started to think about Persephanie again, it's been two months since she and I haven't been able to talk. And people say it gets better with time. Everyday it seems to get worse, the dreams, the thoughts of her and just wishing we could talk. I think this whole thing is really fucked up because realistically she was the best source of emotional support I had. I remember I wrote those lyrics from the Something Corporate song, I've realized that I relied on you, like yellow does on blue. That's how I feel, that is how I felt back then even.

And maybe relying on a friend so much makes you weak, but it feels good. Just like ignorance is bliss; loving someone in whose eyes you never seem capable of doing any wrong is special. It's like being a hero. Sometimes I wonder, when we talk again in a few months will she still see that hero? Will she see me be so different that I won't matter anymore. In all those months will she even remember me. Her last words to me were, "I'll always love you". But I worry she won't even remember me. And that's my greatest fear.

What is Sexy?

What is sexy?

Purity is sexy.

Smiles are sexy, and two armed hugs.

Cuddling is sexy, so is the smell of a girls hair when she's fresh out of the shower.

Glasses are really sexy, nerds are sexy too, as are girls that snort when they laugh and girls who don't care enough about their hair.

Girls who liked to be tickled are sexy, so are small girls that drive big trucks, girlie girls who like to get dirty from time to time are sexy, and so are knee lenght skirts.

Hair wraps are sexy, artsy girls are sexy, high heels are sexy, and girls with a brain are sexy.

I guess that my point is some of the things that people don't think are sexy can be. As a matter of a fact sometimes innocent girls looking sexy doing something that a less innocent girl wouldn't look like anything doing. Does this mean that if a guy thinks these things are sexy they just want to sleep with you? No, I know that I care about girls and feeling someone is sexy doesn't mean you just want one thing. Sometimes a guy calls you sexy and he really does care about you as a whole person, just remember that.

Chicago Is So Two Years From Now

When we were in high school we all thought of Spring Break being something really magical, where you and your friends could get out alone and just be yourselves. Every time you saw a movie about college kids and Spring Break was involved you knew what they would be up to...drinking, partying, and other illicit activities. Now I am certainly not saying that these are the kinds of things that we should seek.

I'm no more a believer in getting drunk and random sexual acts than I ever was, but the point is that you would think if those people could do that, then maybe I would be able to do some lesser things, hang out with friends, not get hassled, go out of town for one or two days. Little things like that.

Well the reality is that the things you see in the movies are lies. No one parties like that on Spring Break, the majority of the people I know spent their break working, busting their ass at some job for the regular hours they are usually there. I spent most of mine stuck here at my parents house, nothing to do and no one to hang out with, the few times I did do something it was short lived, with the exception of hanging out with PJ Saturday and Friday.

But I wanted to go to San Antonio, I wanted to see my friends, hang out, I had pictures I needed to take for school, that got canceled. I really don't want to spend another moment with my family right now, any part of them. I don't want to be around them because they've been pretty rude to the fact that I am even supposed to be on break. I spent fifteen dollars this week, fifteen dollars of my own money and I heard nothing but complaining about it afterwards.

And that was because I bought a movie that I had wanted since I first saw it in theaters, (Casino Royal) but I think that this will be some of the last time I spend here at the house, I think already that I want to move further away from my family than I have ever been. Every choice I make gets questioned by them, even ones like who I choose to like or how late I sleep on my own break.

I know I only talked about it in passing with most people, and that most probably thought I wasn't serious, but now that I think about it moving to Chicago sounds better and better.

The Measure of a Man

How many people out there think that it is totally stupid for guys to cry at all? I had a long talk with some people earlier today and a lot of the men there seemed to hold this same sentiment. Many others said it was alright, as long as the guy did it in private.

I can tell you right now that its not unmanly to cry. Most of the thing that people consider manly are things that don't matter or are just flat out wrong. It doesn't make you a man if you've fucked a lot of girls, or if you can drink so much without passing out.

Another thing I find really odd is how women want a guy who has emotions, but someone I once used to be friends, let's just say I won't call her what I want to call her here and she will remain nameless, but she told me she didn't like it when a guy cried. Even at a funeral. It showed how much she knows and how much she was nothing more than a little girl. It never ceases to amaze me that so many of the things women say they want are not what they look for.

I'm not afraid to admit that I cried not too terribly long ago over a friend being gone, and I don't see any problem with it. I will probably cry when I have my first kid or maybe when proposing, when my real mom died, I cried then and also when my frist dog died; although that was a long time ago. Anyone who wants to call me a pussy or a sissy or whatever else for it, they can. I have emotions. At least I seem human...and being human can't make you any less of a man.

I'm Not Here For Your Entertainment

Did I miss something? When did it become alright to just ignore someone when you didn't want to deal with them? Because that's the standard practice for girls. And if some guy were do that to them they'd use that as an excuse to hate all of the guys in the entire fucking world. But we're supposed to not be bitter and just keep trying for them, because they think their princesses and the like, we wouldn't want to disappoint them.

Let me tell you this, because no one seems to ever listen when I tell them anything, most of the reasons girls have all these problems are their own doing a lot of the time. I can't remember how many times I have heard one of my friends tell me she wants to go back to her old boyfriend, the same one who did something horrible like cheat, lie, ignore or mistreat her; or some wacky combination of the above. If you're going to tell me some stupid shit like this, don't expect me to be there when you fall on your ass yet again.

I've got enough problems without you thinking I'm a free shrink for you to use and I'm done looking out for others in that regard. I have seen far too much and for all my helpfulness I have been shit on recently every time I did something. So I say why put in the effort?

Goddamned Arms Race

This is the climate of our society, I can't even turn on the television without coming across some news about some celebrity doing something outlandish and stupid. Yet we as a society never punish them, and when we do its only as much as we will allow ourselves to. We act like they have something hard on them because of the job they do when there are many jobs out there that are less in the lime light and when it comes right down to it those people get shit on.

A news story out of Britain has this fourteen year old girl talking about how it is stylish to be pregnant, and that's what she went and did got pregnant. So did some of her friends. I know what you're saying, "This doesn't sound right? Where are the parents?".

We can't hold the parents at liberty because we all know that since the television and radio are these kids real caretakers the people on there are the ones we should blame right? Entertainers? Let me tell you this right now, people need to teach their own children that Paris Hilton, Britney Spears and the Olsen Twins are not role models. Anna Nicole Smith has gotten more press coverage than all of the other important deaths that have happened recently. A President, the God Father of Soul Music, and many more have been dwarfed by the press' barrage of this one time playmate...she hasn't even done anything this millennium!

And in the case of Paris Hilton, do you remember when you had to be famous to get on television? Since Paris Hilton all it has taken is infamy. You fuck a guy, get on drugs, say or do something stupid and there you are, front page news. All the while we are fighting a war, electing a president in a year, people are starving all over the world. But you're more concerned which of these blonde bimbos ends up in rehab this week, or if the bald one had a reason the shave her head...

Stop giving a fuck about these people, they should learn that they don't have to keep being bad to be famous. I mean Jesus has been famous for 2000 years and he didn't flash his penis getting off that Donkey on Palm Sunday. As a matter of a fact the only time he ever got even remotely angry was when he flipped tables at that temple and even then he had good reason. The reason that they keep doing this shit is because we keep paying attention. And do you know who it is effecting? Little kids! When they see you can pose nude and still be on American Idol, that you can flash your vagina and its somehow okay, or that rehab is the way you fix every problem...they think they can act this way or should to be famous!

Being famous should depend on skill, talent or something of that measure. Not on how scandalous you can be. I was listening to that new Fall Out Boy CD today and I realized that one of the lyrics in one song applied to this, "This ain't a scene, its a goddamn arms race,". They are all just bidding for the most attention, because in show business no exposure is truly bad exposure if you spin it right. Well I say is high time we cut them off.

Harden

You know, I am really tired of going on dates now and getting lied to. I can't understand why you would tell someone to call you and then decide you don't want to answer. I am sick of getting treated so badly and getting used. And you know what. I am going to harden myself to others a little bit for it, I don't mean to, but you know what, its just going to happen.

I have bad luck with this. Just once I want to see someone actually want to go out and keep going out, and not lying about it. I'm not into liars, I am into certain things, and I don't really want anything to do with most people. I have no idea how to relate to people about things like this. So I'm forever stuck.

Conversations With A Priest

NOTE:This is a small excerpt from my story, it actually features people I know in real life (Brandon and Persephanie in this case) and this is the first time I have ever posted this story any where, hope you all enjoy.

Back when I was in high school there was usually one twenty four hour Starbucks in a major city. Now you could find five in Houston alone. It was cold out, still raining and just starting to get dark. The steam from my Cinnamon Dolce Latte warmed my face as I stretched my neck out over the cup.

My hands were clasped around the cup tight to keep them warm. A man in a black fedora was just on the other side of the glass gathering napkins from the small counter, he stepped back outside and came over and then sat down right across from me. He looked up at me through his ice blue eyes.

I inhaled the cinnamon smell of the latte and then spoke, "Father, I feel like all of this being cheerful is getting to me," I paused to sip my drink, it was still very hot, "I feel like I've lost faith or something," I said.

"Why do you feel that way?" he asked in a soft voice as he pushed the napkins over to my side of the table.

"Well because I feel like I haven't got anything righteous left in me, like all of this is taking a toll or something. And what does God want with the non-righteous?" I said.

"It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick...but go and learn what this means: 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice.' For I have not come to call the righteous, but the sinners," he rattled it off quickly and immediately I recognized it.

"Matthew?" I asked and he nodded.

"If God thought we could all be righteous on our own he wouldn't have sent the prophets, he wouldn't have sent his only son to us," said the man in fedora.

I sipped on my coffee and then smiled, "I guess that's right, but what do I do to get better?"

"Well what started you feeling like this?" asked the man in the fedora.

"Recently I've noticed Justin is treating this whole thing like its just part of his job…all of the demons he's killed, he used to say it was doing God's work, but I notice he's getting distant, spiritually and emotionally," I stopped.

The man in the fedora ran his hand down the side of his face, through his beard, "I don't understand, how are you coming to that conclusion?"

"Well he's not enthusiastic about doing the right thing, he told Megan what we did 'didn't make a difference' a little while ago, she nearly hit him," I sipped the coffee, it was the only way to keep warm. "With the girls he seems to be somewhere else, Ashley even asked me about it," I paused to clear my throat. "And with me…when we're alone he's not the same, he may try to act the same, but I can just tell something is different. He kisses me like it's a routine and not a sign of Love…"

Now I knew I had divulged too much, my cheeks filled with red heat, blushing.

"Are you afraid there might be another woman?" he asked.

I laughed, "I suppose that would be the concerns of a normal woman," but I was anything but normal, "I'm not worried about that in the least, I am worried that he's losing the capability to love, and by trying to pull him back from there, I'm going in too."

"It's true, this job isn't pretty, and there's little room left optimism when you spend your days looking at the latest escapee from Hell," he told me.

"How have you done this for so long?" I asked.

"When I first became a priest I was just trying to help people, but when I got into the Order of Saint Michael and started fighting I figured it would be my life's work…" he started.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I saved this woman one day, and I never told your husband or anyone else all of this, but she was the most gorgeous thing I'd ever seen, like I was looking at a small part of God himself. She had the bluest eyes, dark brown hair with white blonde streaks that somehow just seemed to fit, and her skin was flawless and white like snow…" he took a long pause here and pulled his trench coat up around himself. I was listening intently.

Then he started again, "Coincidentally her name was Mary, and after a year of writing each other, talking on the phone and sometimes meeting up with her when I was near I realized that I was in love. I was ready to put my vows aside for her, I was ready to quit the priesthood. But when I went to tell her of this, a demon attacked and it managed to skewer her through. It was a coincidence, your husband had chased the thing for a half a mile, and it just happened that where they fought happened to be the place where she lived, it also just happened that it used her to try and reason with Justin, I put it down quick, only to find out she had been mortally wounded by its barb tail…we shared one kiss before she was gone."

I glared down at the table, "Wow, I just…wow."

"Persephanie, I will tell you this," he started "Things will get dark, they will get very dark, but its when the world around us gets dark that we tend to shine the brightest…" he said.

"But you…you still quit the priesthood, that wasn't even that long after we met you," she said.

"I quit because I failed," he said, "But I still fight with the Order of Saint Michael," he stood up straightening his hat on his head. I could see the long brown hair flowing out from underneath the fedora now.

I glanced up at him, "But do you fight for Love, or because of revenge?" I asked.

"That is hard to tell," he paused and turned away, "I'll give you my answer when I pull the last demon kicking and screaming into Hell." He was gone off into the parking lot where our cars were parked next to each other.

Such a contrast, my Porsche, only three years old; then next to it was his car, a 1967 Chevy Impala, large and boxy with that heavy frame.

I gathered my napkins around the still warm cup and stood up to walk to my car.