I spotted these
two trees standing tall in the green grass. I thought, hey! this could be
just like in Narnia. All I have to do is walk between those trees and
*poof* I will no longer be of this world. I'll be magically transported to
another realm! I closed my eyes, walked between the trees, and when I
opened them, nothing appeared any different. But I knew, yes, I
knew things were different.
But what was different? I wondered. Maybe I have secret powers. I bet I
can go to my Spanish class and I'll be super intelligent, incredibly
bright, and my good looks will radiate like stars in the heavens.
But wait...that's not any different from how things were before... ;)
I found this
deformed green M&M in my bag of Peanut Butter M&Ms. I examined it
for a moment and suddenly, it dawned on me. This M&M appeared to have
been previously sucked. I bet some kid went with their dad to the M&M
making factory for "Bring Your Daughter to Work" day. Then
little Margaret picked up the delicious candy and popped it in her mouth
hoping Dad wouldn't notice. But he did notice. Eating candy was
strictly against the rules, of course, so he yelled, "Maggie! Spit
that out!" Startled, she did - right back onto the conveyor belt
where it proceeded down the line to get stamped by the white M machine.
I'll bet her daddy got in trouble for letting that slobbery M&M go
down the conveyor belt. Maybe his supervisor even fired him. Poor Harold.
But how could he rescue the one slobbery M&M among the millions? He
couldn't. Which is why the previously sucked on M&M wound up in my
bag. Well, I ate it and I think it tasted fine. I mean, it had clearly
already been in someone's mouth, but besides that, no big deal.
So, Harold and Maggie, if you're reading this: I forgive you and I'm so
terribly sorry for all the trouble.
My
homeschool-school has way ridiculous dress codes. The most silly thing
they enforce is a conspiracy-hidden-in-a-dress-code. It's a conspiracy to
make all the homeschoolers look alike. At my homeschool-school, the boys
are not allowed to spike their hair. According to the authority, this rule
is intended to make us "adhere" to Romans 12:2 which says we
shouldn't conform to the patterns of this world. Crikes, I guess we should
all dress like Jesus did - maybe we even shouldn't own cars, lest we
conform. Two letters: B.S.
I got to thinking...suppose I shaved my head. I really have no intentions
of doing this because I don't actually have a desire to. But let's
supposed I wanted to. And then my self said, "Don't do that!
What would people think?" Now there's a worldly
thought. So I decided to shave my head because was attitude was sinful and
vain. Supposing all this occurred, I would have a shaved head and I would
almost certainly not be allowed to teach debate at class day - just
because I "looked different" and "rebellious."
Because I wouldn't be rebelling, I think I would write a respectful
essay which outlined why I shaved my head. I would address how
their judgment of my intention was wrong and how it had saddened me
that I was forbidden to teach debate. I would talk about how God has
called us as Christians to be like Himself and not to judge men on their
outward appearance, but look to the heart. I would talk about how there is
no Biblical model of dress and that good Christian homeschoolers don't
have to all look the same.
I would disperse this letter in the mailboxes of all the families and I
feel and my mom agrees that my letter would be seen as another
action done out of rebellion. It would "disrespect authority"
and they would almost certainly disregard it and get defensive about the
things I had said. It would be disrespect because: I am young and I must
submit to authorities because they are old. So what? Are they right by
virtue of their old age?
If we were to grant that they are right because they are old, then what
happens when I am old? I get to be automatically right all the
time? No. A person is right because they are and this reason must be made
known.
Just because someone is old does not mean they are right. Just because
someone young disagrees with an adult does not mean they are
disrespecting. Just because someone is young does not mean they cannot
speak truth and wisdom into the hearts and minds of their elders. ~
1
Timothy 4:12
So... I'm back
to pondering the same damn things I ponder every couple of months. Looks
like I've run through all my normal ponderings and am recycling thoughts
now. Oh, goody.
Today I realized, again for the first time, how massive the world is. It's
a shame that our minds are so sickeningly small and pathetic, because we say
all this stuff about how, "Oh my gosh. Just think. Six billion plus
people and everyone of them has an intricate life and family and concerns
and blah blah blah" and that's what it all reduces to. The blah blah
blah, I mean. That's where it leaves off.
Everyone. With a reality as real and distinguishing as our own. Who is
that stranger in love with right now? Is he lonely? In the middle of a
fight with someone? Did he enjoy his dinner last night? When's the last
time he laughed like a hyena and why? It's a lovely
"let-me-utilize-my-pathetic-brain-for-a- moment" thought.
But I mean, schnikes, it is insane to ponder for a moment, anyway.
How can I be so self-absorbed when just outside this building, there are
literally five thousand people with at least 1,000 thoughts and concerns
and... yeah, that really adds up. But after I add it up, it loses its
personality. It's just a stupid math problem now. And that's why I
can be self-absorbed. I can't handle the reality. I can only handle the
concept.
And if I could, if I could actually see myself in relation to the rest of
the matter in creation, well... please refer to The Hitchhiker's Guide
to the Galaxy. You see, theoretically, since every piece of matter is
connected in some way to all other matter, it is possible to extract the
whole of creation from say, one piece of fairy cake. And so a man built
the Total Perspective Vortex. He hooked it up, plugged one end into the
fairy cake and one end to his wife. For one instant she saw the whole
infinity of creation and herself in relation to it.
"To Trin Tragula's horror, the shock completely annihilated her
brain; but to his satisfaction he realized that he had proved conclusively
that if life is going to exist in a Universe of this size, then the one
thing it cannot afford to have is a sense of proportion." - The
Restaurant at the End of the Universe, Chapter 12
I think it's
entirely unfair that we have to experience foods for the first time when
we're too young to really appreciate the experience. Imagine
tasting a steak for the very first time when you're old enough to
appreciate the delectability of steak. Imagine tasting an apple for the
very first time when you're old enough to appreciate the delectability
of an apple! It would be perfectly exquisite!
Instead, we grow up eating these things. We have always eaten apples, and
so we are so familiar with the apple taste and texture that we forget to
realize how truly wonderful they are. Today I made a point to notice. I
bit into the crisp apple slowly, admiring the soft crunch. I let the
sweetness of the flesh dissolve and dissipate on my tongue. The juice of
the apple filled my mouth and delighted my taste buds with natural sugars.
There is a reason they call them "Red Delicious", you
know. For one thing, well, they're red. And for another thing, they're delicious.
Oh, sweet rapture. Food. How glorious.
I am consuming
pretzels. They are quite scrumptious. I'm enjoying them immensely.
Right now I am examining the delectable treat, and now I'm examining the
blue bag from which they came. I find that these "pretzels" are
made up of (among other things): flour, salt, corn syrup, vegetable oil,
yeast, and artificial flavor.
If someone were to look at me and declare, "Kirsten, you are eating flour
and salt," they'd be right... partially. They'd also be pretty
darn stupid (and very wrong) to not accept that I'm eating much more than
that. Why, yes, I am eating flour and salt, but those are only the ingredients.
I'm really eating pretzels.
In the same way, if someone were to look at me and declare, "Kirsten,
you are outgoing and talkative," they'd be right...
partially. Likewise, they'd be pretty darn stupid (and very wrong) to not
accept that I am much more than that. I'm outgoing and talkative, but
those are only the ingredients. The things that make up the whole.
The whole that is, in a word, Kirsten.
Which is why I have said, and I'll say it again: I am everything you think
I am. And more.
Don't be surprised when you find that pretzels contain more than flour and
salt.
On mornings
when I have to wake up early, I get up exactly 20 minutes before I need to
leave. I have just enough time to get dressed, brush my teeth, wash my
face, slap on some eyeliner, and fumble with my contacts. I am as plain as
a bagel without cream cheese.
On the first day of school this semester, I spotted this girl with
beautifully layered blond hair, delicately curled into a Masterpiece of
Hair. Her face was blemish-free, softly powdered and highlighted with
pink. In less than split second, I compared myself to her. Me: Ratty jeans
and effortless hair. Her: The cover girl for some popular teen magazine.
And then I laughed. Gosh, I bet she had to wake up a whole hour (or
more!) before I did to get herself looking like that.
So it comes down to this: I don't wear makeup because I value sleep over
beauty.
But it comes down to a little more than that: Makeup is a sham. If a girl
is pretty, she doesn't need it. If a girl isn't pretty, it probably won't
help too much. Makeup just tends to make girls feel better about
themselves - but why? I attribute this to society. Without makeup, the
pretty women would still be pretty and the not-so-pretty women would still
be not-so-pretty. The difference? Well, they'd have a little more pocket
money, I guess.
I also consider makeup to be a measure of deceit. What's behind the layer
of foundation, concealer, blush, eyeliner, eye shadow, mascara, lip liner,
lipstick, and whatever else... Women apply makeup to make
themselves seem more attractive to the world. Most females only
bother to disguise their faces when they're going out.
And that is why I can justify my recent decision to wear dark
eyeliner. Last night as I was going through the pains of scraping that
stuff off my eyes, I said to myself, Kîrsten, you didn't even leave
the house today. Why do you even bother to put this on? And I answered
myself quite reasonably, Kîrsten, dear, I don't wear eyeliner for
other people. I wear it because I like the way it looks. To which I
responded, Oh.
"don't
think of an elephant with a purple trunk
to consciously try is to fail" - via a wise friend of mine
Another peculiar thing about Life: The more you want something, the harder
it is to get it.
Take this parable about the Zen Monk who went to the Teacher and said,
"O teacher, if I work very hard, how soon can I be enlightened?"
"10 years." "No, you don't understand, I mean if I really
work at it, how long-?" "I'm sorry, I misjudged. 20 years."
"No! I don't think you understand! If-" "30 years."
It is impossible to achieve enlightenment about identity, the universe,
and life in general when you are consumed with doing so. It's like trying not
to think of an elephant. No matter how hard you try, in the end, at
best, you're thinking about not thinking about an elephant. You cannot try
to stop your mind from leaning because then you're just leaning harder in
the opposite direction... you cannot achieve the goal with an obsessed
mind.
Life's irony, I suppose. "I know how much you want this, so ha, screw
you."
Reminds me of the Chinese finger trap toys I used to get at carnivals or
nickel arcades. It took me a long time to figure out that toy. You
stick your index fingers into the ends of the woven tube. If you pull
apart, the loosely woven toy contracts and your fingers are trapped. But
if you push your fingers inward, and relax, it's very simple to pull your
fingers out.
Working backwards to achieve the goal... Pushing your fingers further in
the trap to get them out. Or as C.S. Lewis wrote in his essay
"Obstinacy of Belief".. something like, that which is painful
will relieve the pain, and what looks dangerous is your only safety. Like
in removing a splinter from a child's finger, you ask the child to believe
that only by hurting their finger very much more can you stop the finger
from hurting.
Back to the paradox of not thinking about an elephant... If you try
to not think about an elephant, you are thinking about not thinking about
an elephant. But if you let it go... soon you will be thinking about your
stomach and what you're going to have for dinner. I feel like chicken
tonight.
You've heard it
before. I know you have. Are you ready for this: Got milk? And how about
this… you've heard that slogan manipulated in a not-very-witty way to
say "Got Jesus?" "Got love?" "Got cheese?"
You name the noun, it's more than likely been thrown into the "Got
milk?" slogan at one point or another.
Do you know what this says to me? It says that the advertising genius of
one man (or group of individuals) has changed the world. I aspire to say
things or write things that become what "Got milk?" has become -
ecumenical.
When I was younger, I thought it would be neat to take over the world (or
at least, think about taking over the world). I wrote an enormous
manifesto detailing my plans for world domination. I scrawled out my New
World Order. It was, in a word, art. But now I no longer wish to rule the
world. I only wish to manipulate it.
In reality, the manipulators are the ones who have real power. A world
dictator has support, that is true… but a world dictator also has
detractors. Contrast this with manipulators. They sit behind the scenes
brewing schemes that change popular opinion and/or individual's
mentalities. No one gives them credit (or blame) for these changes, but
the changes occur nonetheless. The power is had, and cannot be taken away.
And that power, my pretties, will be mine. Buwhahahah!
Hey diddle
diddle
The cat and the fiddle
The cow jumped over the moon
The little dog laughed, to see such a sport
And the dish ran away with the spoon.
This verse is the clearest representation of a fallen society, as I ever
saw it.
The cat, of course, the symbol of evil incarnate (for what characteristic
better describes a cat but EVIL?), is the precursor to the entire poem
insinuating the establishment of evil in society. In addition, the cat is
playing the fiddle. The fiddle literally stands for music and music is of
the devil (as, of course, it is), permeating society and corrupting it.
In the third line we read that "the cow jumped over the moon."
Clearly we can see here that the cow embodies human nature. To jump over
the moon is an impossible feat, so in this we can see that human nature,
notwithstanding the "cat" and the demon music, achieves the
impossible by putting forth all our effort and utilizing all that is
intrinsically good within us.
However, while in the third line, the human race seemingly accomplishes
the unthinkable, in the fourth line we see that this human achievement was
but a hoax. The little dog laughed because <censored>! We
will never jump over the moon! We are too few. Our nature too weak and
insubstantial. In our fallen society, such an achievement is laughable,
ridiculous, and out of the question.
As an addendum, the dish ran away with the spoon denoting the promiscuity
of our nation. Where the spoon really should have been running away
with another eating utensil, it runs away with the dish thus further
inflating the count of broken families in our country, in our fallen
society.
What a grim picture of the world today. I'll think twice next time I read
this poem to little ears.