I’m having a pretty harsh morning. My alarm didn’t go off, so I had to rush before class. I was a bit hasty in making my coffee, so now I have to deal with grinds in my mug. I have emails that need to be answered, and a research paper that needs to be written. Guh.
I’m late to class and I’m getting dirty looks. All of these minor tragedies are making me want to scream. I open my notebook to vent, and of course it falls to the floor. I pick it up, and I find this note from my friend Kelly. It was in the middle of the book, in a random spot with a hundred blank pages on either side. It read “Outlook is KEY”. This note must have been written a few weeks back. I have no idea her motivation in writing it, nor when she expected me to find this nugget of inspiration. For the last few weeks, I have observed many things that have lead me to believe that the entire universe is connected. This is just another in a series of small revelations. The person who wrote said note once told me, “There is no such thing as random”. I’m starting to believe that. Imagine everything that had to take place in order for me to see this note at the time I that I did.
This happened last week. I would not be the person I am at this moment if things happened any other way. I would have walked away from the spot in which I was sitting at a later time. I would not have gotten to my next class a few minutes early, as I did. In those few minutes I had a conversation with a friend, and we made plans to get together during the weekend. I wouldn’t have had the time to speak to her had I not walked in when I did. While we hung out, we watched a movie I had never heard of before. I really enjoyed the movie, and it made an impression on me. It was definitely something that I will consider as an influence from this point on. Maybe these are minor things. Maybe my life would be exactly the same if I never saw Kelly’s note. Maybe I would have seen the note at another time when I would need it even more. Maybe I would have gotten hit by a car If I walked away any later. What if I’ll get hit by a car tomorrow because of the path I have taken?
Now ask yourself, now that you have read this, what will be different for you? Maybe you won’t get hit by a car, maybe you will. Maybe you will ask me what movie it was, watch it, and be equally as influenced by it. Maybe it would offend you, or introduce you to an actor you were previously unaware of. Maybe you will be on a game show one day, and the million dollar question will be about that actor. Either way, you will have my friend Kelly to thank….
If something in the water was making you sick, and you were aware of this, logic would kick in and you would stop drinking the water. That’s what you would think anyway. This would not be the case if you were, let’s say, the American educational system. You would just keep on drinking, without a care or worry in the world. Ignore that cramp in your stomach. Don’t mind the vomiting.
What i’m trying to say is that education in this country is broken. We are teaching our children how to be weak followers. Whether this is by neglect or design is open to debate. Our children aren’t being taught how to make any real money. They aren’t being taught how to start a business, or build a house , or much of anything besides how to follow directions. We aren’t teaching them how to make informed, thought out, intelligent decisions. We just equip them with a standard set of actions and responses. Say no to drugs. Don’t touch me there. You know what I mean.
So what can we all do to fix this? It doesn’t seem so tough to me. Let’s listen to the kids. Let’s stop punishing them for being creative and asking questions. Encourage them. Reward them for outside of the box thinking. I’m almost positive that engaging children in this way would be innumerably more beneficial to them than negative reinforcement. Like they say, what goes around comes around. Teaching our children to be curious and caring can only make this a better world to be in.
/end rant
ok, so I have a final in my English comp class in eight hours.
Check out my friend ShawnMac. I’ve known him for years. He is an excellent photographer and a stone cold gangsta. If you live in the New York metro area and need work, check him out. He is fair and his work is remarkable.As a sidenote, I was present when this picture was taken. That night was as wierd as this picture implies. Do yourself a favor and take a look a the rest of his work because it is all wonderful.
I don’t have much to say at the moment. Maybe you will learn something by reading this essay by John-paul Sartre. It was written in 1947 and it’s worth the three minutes. Maybe if you have a little more time, you could even head on over to Project Gutenberg and read this novella by Ayn Rand. Its called ‘Anthem’. Even though she is wrong, it is very good. If you haven’t heard of it,or her, you should probably kill yourself.
The other evening, I happened upon the latest episode of NBC’s “Deal or no Deal” game show. One of the contestants was the sweetest, most vibrant women I had ever seen. She was just so nice. The kind of person you would want winning on one of these shows. She deserved it. She was middle aged, grandmotherly even. She moved and shook with all the excitemnt of an agitated terrier. For those who don’t know, the game is pretty simple. You start with a sum of money, something around $2 million as I recall. You pick from a series of numbered cases, each containing a dollar amount. That is the amount you lose. So this woman had with her a coffee can full of family photos. Each photo had a number on the back of it. This was to be her winning strategy.
As the game progressed, she won a bit, and she lost a bit. Nothing seemed to phase her. She knew that God was watching out for her. “This is my baby niece” she said as she called out for case number five. Ten thousand. Ouch. This is it. Down to the wire. This is the moment of truth. She reaches into the can. “This is my nephew, Daniel. He is serving our country over in Iraq.”. America’s collective hearts all get a bit warmer. At this moment, at least to her, there was a merciful and caring God up in the sky. To her, sinners still went to hell and bad guys get what they deserved. She called out number 7. Drumroll please. Oh my Lord, this is it. Rags to riches. Howie’s eyes, in what seemed to be an eternity, moved to embrace hers. “I’m sorry. So close, but not close enough”. I watched her faith run dry. I watched her soul become a heavy burden. To her, at this moment, there is no caring, loving God watching over our perfect little souls. I watched a soul become lost. No deal.
I’m having a pretty harsh morning. My alarm didn’t go off, so I had to rush before class. I was a bit hasty in making my coffee, so now I have to deal with grinds in my mug. I have emails that need to be answered, and a research paper that needs to be written. Guh.
The other evening, I happened upon the latest episode of NBC’s “Deal or no Deal” game show. One of the contestants was the sweetest, most vibrant women I had ever seen. She was just so nice. The kind of person you would want winning on one of these shows. She deserved it. She was middle aged, grandmotherly even. She moved and shook with all the excitemnt of an agitated terrier. For those who don’t know, the game is pretty simple. You start with a sum of money, something around $2 million as I recall. You pick from a series of numbered cases, each containing a dollar amount. That is the amount you lose. So this woman had with her a coffee can full of family photos. Each photo had a number on the back of it. This was to be her winning strategy.
