The Waiting Game

Time is the ultimate equalizer. The wonders of nature and man will be ground to dust, and that dust will fade into the universal uniformity of heat death over trillions of years, according to the current eschatological theories. Time wipes everything clean.

The boughts of anxiety I have been experiencing for the past few weeks have largely subsided. Some of this is due to coping techniques I learned, but I think that most of it can be traced to confronting some of the social circumstances causing the anxiety and working through my feelings.

Left in the fading trail of anxiety is minor depression. The fact is, even once you accept a shitty situation, it still sucks. I am more hopeful than frightened, however. Depression is something familiar to me, and I can more accurately assess it. This seems to be more situational (like the anxiety), rather than the chronic variety that has plagued me in the past (and probably in the future).

What gives me hope? The passage of time.

If you sit back and do nothing, most problems will not solve themselves; however, when you actually put effort into working on yourself and dealing with the problems, time has a nice way of helping you out. It may be difficult to find anything beyond temporary relief from a single therapy session, but when you add up several weeks, the culmilative effect can be surprising.

Like all things, my current state will pass. For that, I am thankful, even if I sometimes look upon my works and despair.

On Shitty First Drafts

Last night I shared the beginning of my current (and longest) piece at the university's writing club. The response was overwhelmingly positive and it was great ego boost. But in a way, it the experience highlighted my issue with the piece.

The first passage of the story flows very well and has imagery strong enough that people commented that they felt like they were really there, looking just over my protagonist's shoulder at the scene. I think it's one of the best things I have written. But there is a sharp decline in quality immediately following it.

Why? Because the first part has been meticulously edited and rewritten multiple times. Most of the remaining story has only had the initial pass of writing it, and as a result lacks any sort of rich details or particularities that establish a sense of the place and action.

It gets worse, though. The story suddenly hinges on a series of coincidences and characters become pawns for the plot rather than entities with the illusion of agency. It has become especially hard to continue to slog through writing it, knowing that not only does it suffer from the roughness of a typical first draft, but the story itself is rapidly unraveling as I reach parts I have planned out less.

One tactic that may help is to try detailed outlining. As it stands, my outline is vague, with events separated by undefined distances—I discovery write between the points. I think that if I treat the outline as discovery writing, with a beat-by-beat breakdown of the action, I might find more success.

So, that's the plan, I guess?

Feels

It normally takes me a while to discuss my mental issues out in the open.

When I was younger, I was diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease and immediately began telling everyone I knew about it in all the gory details (including showing people pictures of the inside of my small intestine). Part of me actually thought it was cool, but in retrospect it is clear that this oversharing was a defense mechanism that made me feel better about something that was very scary at the time.

The thing about mental illness is that there is a stigma attached to it. People tend to view depression as something you can “pull yourself out of,” despite the fact that if someone died from cancer, no one in their right mind would argue that “they just did not fight hard enough.” (Maria Bamford demonstrates this much better than I ever could.)

So, despite a part of me wanting to be open about my depression, I tend to hold back until I know someone better. There is something inappropriate about explaining the time I entered acute group therapy on a first date, for example. Additionally, most people on the street do not need to know about my late nights listening to Coldplay’s “The Scientist” on repeat.

But sometimes, not being open about struggles can cause problems. Keeping things bottled up and suppressing emotions is not healthy. And so, I find myself writing a far too revealing blog post.

When my mental illness was officially diagnosed at the end of high school, the prognosis was depression and anxiety; however, almost all of the symptoms I have been able to consciously notice have been depression related. While anxiety was a problem, it usually manifested itself as clenching my jaw, rather than my heart racing. The only time I have ever had a panic attack was when I tried to get on a (small) rollercoaster and collapsed in the queue. That probably deserves an entire post of its own, though.

Recently, however, I have been experiencing bouts of anxiousness that I only can only compare to how it felt to live away from home for the first time. Those went away eventually, and I came to view the college I was attending as a genuine second home that I miss to this day.

It is entirely possible that the main culprit this time around is the same as before; I recently enrolled in a four-year university for the first time in five years and there is a lot riding on my academic performance. To say that it is the only source of anxiety would be short-sighted, though.

I am not very skilled at making friends. I have always been introverted and shy and self-conscious (some of which was the result of mental illness rather than an inciting factor). Moving to a city for the first time, I naively expected things to be easier this time around. While there are more like-minded folks around Pittsburgh than in the wilds of Pennsyltucky, my social skills have not improved much in a half a decade. Yes, I am more confident in who I am, but I am still very much a loner at times and just plain do not mesh that well with most people.

I am completely okay with that, provided I can find a close-knit group of people to take the place of the dozens of friends a more social person would acquire. And you know what? I have found some of them, already.

So what is the problem? Not to play coy, but I am only comfortable divulging a certain amount publically. But the heart of the matter may be that I am afraid of easily losing that which I gained.

I used to always get the impression that people disliked me. To be fair, I can be very annoying, as so many people in elementary school explained by creating clubs at recess with the sole purpose of excluding me. As my sense of self has matured in the past decade, and as I received treatment for my mental health issues, this has been reduced greatly. But now, it seems that somewhere in the deep recesses of my heart, that fear is alive and well.

This past week, I have been feeling anxiety come over me at an unprecedented rate. At its worst, I was feeling it every few minutes. This has since subsided, thanks in large part to the help of the campus counseling center (those people are doing God’s work). But even as I write this, I wonder what the people I have come to know will think of this confession, and if it will lower their view of me. It is a silly concern, but at the moment, an unshakable one.

I feel guilty whining about it. I know people that struggle with anxiety issues far worse than this. To them, I fear, this rambling post may seem trivial. But it is all very unfamiliar to me and as a result, scary.

I will probably regret posting something this revealing for so many people to read, but I am a firm believer that you regret the things you do not do more than the things you do. Plus, this is super cathartic. And maybe it will make someone else going through something feel less alone.

Or maybe this is just me oversharing again to feel a little less scared.

Outing

A while ago there was some buzz in ye olde gay blogosphere about a conservative politician who may have been involved romantically with another man in his past. These rumors are a dime a dozen, but it provoked discussion over the ethics of outing someone.

The consensus (among blog commenters, at least) seems to be that you should not out someone closeted. The big exception to this is if the person in question is actively harming lgbt people through their actions. There are also plenty of people who believe there is no harm in outing someone in the “transparent closet.” That is, people who are “obviously” queer in some way but have not acknowledged it publicly. I disagree with this vemiantly—the closet may not be a dignified thing, but for many people it is viewed as a necessity to maintain their life. “Transparent” or not, that person has their reasons.

As for those who harm people, like anti-gay conservative politicians, I am more open to the concept. In my mind, if I choose to view it as acceptable, it is a negative act that benefits the greater good. The thing is, I am very uncomfortable with this. A bigoted hypocrite may “deserve” to be outed, but there is something unsettling about weaponizing someone’s sexuality. In a way, it is reinforcing that to be openly lgbt is a negative thing that should avoided except when employed as punishment. By punishing people with something that most open minded people would claim is a positive thing (coming out), you are affirming that it is a bad thing to be feared.

On the other hand, some people may deserve it. I really am not sure how I feel about it, except that the only situation in which I am even open to outing someone is if they are a menace to the lgbt community.

"The State" of Alternative Comedy (See what I did there?)

Alternative Comedy is, in its simplest form, an intentional departure from the mainstream sensibilities and styles of comedy. It is known for a more casual demeanor and a general sort of weirdness that permeates it from the core outward. Displaying a grand level of self-awareness, it is meta, with performers at times commenting on their jokes as they are still telling them. Instead of appealing to the lowest common denominator, jokes are crafted to be a unique representation of the comedian’s personality.

The beginning of the Alt. comedy movement is difficult to pinpoint. The term itself was coined in the 80s, but it has been expanded to retroactively include older comedians like Mel Brooks and Steve Martin. Though it has existed for decades, only recently has it grown in popularity, infusing itself in the popular comedy culture.

Arguably the single biggest reason for this expansion is the advent of podcasting. In the last decade, podcasts have proven themselves to be popular forms of entertainment. They emerged as digital radio shows and have blossomed into a many-formed means of self-expression. There are many aspects of podcasting that make it ideal for the dissemination of comedy: most shows are prerecorded, allowing for carefully constructed set-ups and sketches; they are cheap to produce and distribute; they can reach any market with reliable internet; and most importantly, anyone can make one. Podcasts, with their laissez-faire attitude and ease of production, proved the perfect medium for comedians—especially those with lulls in their careers.

Chris Hardwick started his Nerdist podcast by recording himself and his friends having freeform discussions about comedy and their lives. What began as a small way to kill some time constructively grew into one of the major podcast empires of the internet. The Nerdist podcast is consistently one of the most popular podcasts on iTunes and is now the flagship show of a network of dozens of podcasts. The network has been so successful, that in 2012 it became a property of film studio Legendary Entertainment.

Another success story is Marc Maron’s WTF. Shortly after his terrestrial radio show was cancelled, Maron began recording interviews with other comedians. Due to his openness about personal issues and his occasionally confrontational nature, the show found a broad, loyal fan base and is one of the most respected podcasts on the scene.

Comedy Central has also contributed to the rise of Alt. Comedy. In the past few years, they have green lit several shows that cater to the Alternative crowd. Broad City, which has its roots in a web series is produced by Amy Poehler and swims in the kind of weirdness Alt. comedy has become known for. Episodes feature seemingly innocuous events like waiting for a package and spin plots that involve treks across New York and encounters with strange characters. @midnight uses a game show format as an excuse to feature Alternative comics. Through internet-inspired games, contestants get to show their comedic chops.

When a genre of something becomes labeled “alternative,” it is because it offers some sort of other option to the mainstream. The ironic thing is that alternative genres, as is the case with music, grow and develop into popular categories in their own rights. Coldplay is hardly an unknown band, but they are one of the key acts of the alternative music genre. In a similar way, alt. comedy is becoming increasingly what people think of when they hear the term “comedy.”

Arguably, the increased popularity is a good thing. More exposure means more album and ticket sales for previously unknown performers. There is always the risk of “selling out,” but as the corporate forces supporting comedy become increasingly open to alternative acts and sensibilities, is that really that bad of a thing?

If you are looking to get into alt. comedy, the best advice I can offer is to find someone whose voice speaks to you by listening to various podcasts. Pandora is also a great way to sample many comedians in one sitting and Spotify is the simplest way to listen to an entire album.

A Relic

"We oppose the teaching of Higher Order Thinking Skills"-- Texas GOP platform statement (p. 12 -- seriously):bit.ly/XFGfct
— Patton Oswalt (@pattonoswalt) February 16, 2013

Comedian Patton Oswalt tweeted this a while ago to draw attention to the Texas GOP’s educational policies. That is certainly something to ponder, but what caught my eye while scrolling through the pdf was this gem:

Homosexuality ― We affirm that the practice of homosexuality tears at the fabric of society and contributes to the breakdown of the family unit. Homosexual behavior is contrary to the fundamental, unchanging truths that have been ordained by God, recognized by our country’s founders, and shared by the majority of Texans. Homosexuality must not be presented as an acceptable “alternative” lifestyle, in public policy, nor should “family” be redefined to include homosexual “couples.”

I am astounded by the sheer level of animus present in a statement; if written by any other anti-gay group, they would at least try to hide the hate. Normally they portray themselves as satisfied with simply denying marriage equality to gay people—the Republican Party of Texas actually professes umbrage with the homosexual “lifestyle.” They take offense to gay people being gay.

In this day and age, it is difficult to find people with such brashly archaic opinions. It is—to put it mildly—not a future-proof statement; it will come back to bite them in their asses. There may still be a (shrinking) portion of people who oppose gay marriage, but you would have a harder time finding people who openly dislike homosexuality itself. It is puzzling that they chose to take such a position in such a time of change.

I would say I can only hope that people will look back on this in the future the same way we look back on statements condemning racial equality, but it is a very likely possibility and will probably happen in the near future.

On Why I Have Not Been Writing Blog Posts Very Often

It’s difficult to pinpoint the exact reason(s) why. This will be a short, muse-y post wherein I prattle on about the topic in an attempt to coax some understanding from myself.

I have gone through creatively stagnant periods before—that is nothing new. While suffering from a bout of depression, I not only found it difficult to write, but I even stopped doodling (which I normally do compulsively while in a class). I got over it, thanks in large part to therapy, and am actually being somewhat productive now when it comes to writing. But somehow I lost interest in my blog for a while.

I periodically come across things that I could blog about, but never get around to actually writing about them. I suspect laziness combined with procrastination (caused by perfectionism?).

Maybe I will tackle some of those topics in the near future.

Something about blog posts this short makes me feel bad(ly?).

Oh, and in good news, I have been published online by the fine people at Apparent Mag!

A Weighty Issue

Hey bloggity blog-blogs! Long time, no see.

Turns out my blogging duties were not the only thing I have neglected. Previously, I gained thirty pounds due to a medication, but successfully lost it by counting calories using an app called My Fitness Pal. Over the last few months, I gained that weight back—I got lazy with watching my diet, and I really, really enjoy food. I know I'm not obese or anything, but going by bmi, I am overweight.

The solution is, of course, to resume dieting. But there something else that might help: getting back to the gym.

There are a number of excuses not to go to the gym: my friends will not be joining me this time (and I have yet to work up the nerve to ask a stranger to spot me), it costs a lot, and there is the intimidation factor when anyone reasonably in shape happens to be there.

But those excuses are just that, excuses. There are tons of physical and mental health benefits and it is enjoyable.

Now I just have to keep at it.

(Pardon the horrible pun title.)

‘Tis the Season

Because I apparently cannot stand to see myself genuinely happy, I have become worried that I am too materialistic this Christmas. The thing that excites me most is the gifts I will be receiving, not the prospect of seeing family members, not the religious elements. This troubles me. I would like to think of myself as someone who values the intangible, the abstract, and the qualitative in people and things. Instead, I feel like a spoiled child waiting for their pony. (Only my pony has a ten inch touchscreen.)

There are, of course, a few reasons why I should not feel this way. I think I am actually looking forward to giving gifts, for example.

But is that still a focus on the material aspects of the celebration?

Another contributing factor is that I have not personally given any money to charities this year. There will be donations as part of my Christmas gifts, but I have yet to actually take cash out of my own pocket. Part of this is due to my mixed feelings about the Salvation Army, to which I would usually toss my pocket change.

I do not really know where I am going with this post, but writing it was a useful exercise to make myself feel better about my desire for MOAR PRESENTS this year.

Potpourri III

Cap’n Crunch is known infamously as the cereal that cuts up the roof of your mouth. But I cannot stop eating it tonight. It reminds me of the CD-ROM that came in boxes of the cereal for a few months in the 90s: Cap’n Crunch’s Crunchling Adventure. It was a surprisingly awesome promotional game in which you trained a creature called a Crunchling to defeat the evil Crunchium Theives. Crunchtastic! As a bonus, you could insert the CD into a CD player and listen to a story about the Crunchlings narrated by the good captain himself. It was probably the best prize to ever be included inside of a cereal box.

Another delicacy that I am sampling tonight is the “apple pear” which is apparently actually an Asian pear that has apple-like qualities. It is delicious.

I went into BigLots! looking to see if they had any wireless keyboards. They did, and I bought one, but a wireless Bluetooth speaker also caught my eye. This is somewhat frivolous as I already have wired speakers, but the allure of transmitting sound across the room proved too much. So far I really like it. I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that this Christmas season, I am spending an awful lot on myself. Pros: joy. Cons: it makes me more materialistic.

Speaking of materialism, I think I am finally okay with idea of receiving a tablet. We are donating to charities already, and I need to give myself a break. Not buying a Nexus 10 is not going to save someone’s life.

Tonight I plan on watching Another Earth. Brit Marling gave a sharp performance in Sound of My Voice, so I am expecting good things from her here.

Two of my friends have worn cardigans around me. I have jumped on the bandwagon.

Just like the Lochtepus.

I had a one dollar credit towards mp3 purchases at Amazon. I purchased My Head is an Animal by Of Monsters and Men, since it was on sale for $3.99. I am not crazy about the album, but I figure that if I can find three songs on it that I really enjoy, it will be worth the money. Their sound reminds me very much of The Head and the Heart and songs like “Little Talks” include sweeping soundscapes, but I have not found the lyrics to be anything to write home about.

Of Monsters and Men - My Head is an Animal: Amazon | Google Play | iTunes

The Fortress

While looking for something to do, I browsed the app Untappd for local bars. I came across a most curious place in the list of nearby establishments: "The Fortress". Armed only with the address, C/K and I decided to go on a trek to check the place out.

What time is it?

The listing designates the place a “speakeasy,” which I can only assume is a category for modern day bars that are trendy and secretive—the kind with no sign above the door. The address was in a residential area, but not far from IUP’s campus.

On our first pass by, we spotted a house with a back patio lit up by Christmas lights. The house itself was dark and seemingly empty. Clearly this bar was so hipster-y that it was disguised as a quiet house to fool the legions of uncool people who must prowl the area looking for the underground venue.

Trepidation gripped me by the time we had worked up the courage to pull into a gravel parking lot behind the house. We noticed that there were multiple entrances. Apparently, the structure was home to several apartments, also explaining the ample parking. We got out of the car and walked around the building. Seeing no signs of life, we abandoned our quest and retired to watch Scott Pilgrim airing on MTV2.

Further investigation online revealed that there were several spots on Foursquare (where Untappd gets its listings) that were private residences, but given nicknames. Other examples included “B*tch Palace” and “The Cave.” The Fortress’ Foursquare page even listed it as such (while the Untappd page indicated it only as a bar).

In the end, we were gypped. We were duped by college kids “cleverly” naming their (likely uncool) liars. But hey, it was still sort of an adventure.

All Mind, No Matter

I mentioned a while back that I was working on a new venture with some friends. Tonight I am proud to say that episode one of our podcast has been published. It is not on iTunes (yet), but you can download it directly from the link at the bottom of the entry.

It is a little rough, considering how green we are at the whole process, but it will improve in the coming weeks.

Linkage: allmind-nomatter.blogspot.com

Reasons to be Thankful

I meant to get this out by Thanksgiving, but the fantastic thing about blogging is that there are no deadlines. Random things I am thankful for this year, in no particular order:

• My friends and family
• My right to publicly disagree with my government
• Being a white 18-34 year old male in America

While I am sure that there are many other specific things I should be mindful of, these things came to mind the quickest. Mainly, I kept coming back to the privileges I have compared to most other people in the world.

This year, my big ticket item to receive for Christmas may be a tablet. But I am on the fence about it. On the one hand, it would be a pleasure to receive something that can so frivolously be used purely for my delight; on the other, I feel a little guilty about receiving something like that when money spent on me could be used to help other people instead.

My family normally makes donations to charities around Christmas. My favorite is a catalog in which you can order animals for families that depend on sustenance farming. I know that even if I receive my shiny, expensive gizmo, we will donate, but what haunts me is the idea that I alone could be preventing us from doing more.

This probably one of those times when my assessment of the situation is skewed. I have a nasty tendency to create obstacles when I have a chance to be happy. The fact is that I am normally okay with getting presents. It is difficult to determine where the line is between what is reasonable and what is selfish, between what is a sensible concern and what is overkill.

I should be thankful that my livelihood does not depend on the outcome, but what if someone else’s does? Why is it so difficult for me to just be thankful that we can afford such luxuries?

In Memoriam

My neighbor died this morning. She was 89.

She was truly like a third grandmother to my sister and me. Whenever we would have family gatherings for holidays or birthdays, we would invite her. She was a part of our lives. But it was not just us who were impacted by her—she was a great-grandmother with a large family.

I am happy that she never had to be placed in assisted living. She defiantly continued to go shopping and carry laundry up and down steep cement stairs on her own. She drove, too—probably better than me. She was fiercely independent.

Her husband died some time ago, but she kept his memory alive in her heart. One time, while I was visiting, she showed me poetry that she wrote every year for him. I wish I could remember it—it was quite beautiful.

She was definitely a feisty one, loving to watch Judge Judy give the smackdown to miscreants and deadbeat parents. One time, a brush-trimming vehicle cleared the banks against the road, but missed the weeds and mowed down her flowers instead. The next day, she put a large sign in place of her garden which read: “THE STATE DID THIS.”

Despite these memories, I do not feel like someone has just died. I did not feel much emotion over my own grandmother’s passing until my cousins and I were up at the coffin, crying together as the grouchy funeral director tried to get us out of the building (it was near the end of business hours). Another reason why I am not overwhelmed may be that this was not a surprise. From the time I heard reports of how she was doing in the hospital, I knew that she might not be long for this world.

My religious sensibilities are often ill-defined, but I sincerely hope that she is in a better place. I take comfort in the thought that whether there is something after death or not, she is no longer suffering.

The Time I Met My Spirit Animal

I have been hypnotized on a handful of occasions by one of my previous psychiatrists. The experience is difficult to explain without a common frame of reference. Perhaps the easiest way to give you a feel for the general sensation is to compare it to dreaming or very being very involved in reading something. I may go into further detail in the future.

                                              

On one of the most vivid occasions, I was instructed to imagine myself at a certain location on the local university campus. (I was nervous about taking college courses as part of a dual enrollment program in my senior year of high school; by picturing myself on the campus, I was to familiarize myself and become calmer in the situation.) I did so, but instead of sticking to the reality of the place, I quickly wandered into a realm of fantasy. I vaguely remember a hippogriff walking between trees in the distance, for example.

The key event that occurred was that I was approached by a serpentine Lindword. Imagine a dragon with a snake-like body, two legs, and no wings. It also had frills on its neck so that it reminded me of an extremely large version of those salamanders with prominent gills. The body was as thick as one of the trees surrounding us, and it moved swiftly. When it was near me, it turned its head to the side so that one large eye was facing me. We gazed into each other for a time, and a strange, deep feeling came over me.

I do not necessarily believe in supernatural spirit guides, but I do believe in psychological archetypes, and spirit animal shows up throughout history. A contemporary example would be the daemons from His Dark Materials—external manifestations of a person’s soul that take the form of an animal which represents them in some way.

What a Lindworm (or a salamander) would say about me, I do not know. Any heraldic significance, while interesting, would not mean as much in this context as my personal feelings towards the creature. Perhaps it is just a fluke of free association in visual form. I know it is ingrained in my subconscious to some degree, as it was a common feature of my doodles at the time, but I do not have any more insight than that.

One (Thousand) More Thing(s)

This happened. Suck it, C/K!

Has Children’s Entertainment become too Adult-Oriented?

Tonight, Cartoon Network airs the half-hour season premiere of Adventure Time. I love this show, especially in light of the crazy bananas they pulled a few weeks ago in the previous season’s finale. But I find myself wondering sometimes, how much do kids enjoy it?

I know it is a success, but I do not know how those numbers break down in terms of demographics—how much of its viewership is made up of teenagers and adults? I know in the case of Spongebob Squarepants, a significant chunk of viewers are adults—and not just parents watching with their children. The same was the case with Avatar: The Last Airbender and its sequel series, The Legend of Korra.

In fact, a quick perusal of the internet will reveal legions of children’s show fans who are able to vote. (Off the top of my head, TVTropes and Tumblr are hubs of fandom activity.)

Why do we, the older audience, love these shows? In the case of Adventure Time, I would argue the very adult elements are one of the key attractions. This leaves me wondering how much kids really get out of it. It is difficult for me to imagine anyone under the age of 14 or 15 finding Regular Show entertaining.

To an extent, I have to ignore a large component of most of children’s entertainment to ask these questions: the sense of fun and wonder. To watch Adventure Time is to be transported to a world of bright pallets and problems that at their worst can still often be dealt with by a little boy kicking and punching them. And this I think is universally enjoyable to all ages.

I also think that I should consider the appeal of layered entertainment. Pixar films and Harry Potter have demonstrated that it is possible to tell a story that is enjoyable on a base, surface level, while providing more thought-provoking entertainment upon closer inspection.

So the answer is no, then? I mean, the wonderment and the layers must invalidate my rhetorical, click-bait title, right? I do not know; I still cannot imagine children finding the episode of Regular Show revolving around a VHS tape humorous. For one, they might ask, what the hell is a VHS?

What do kids love more than hipster video store clerks?

I do not know exactly what I am trying to say in this post. Something about children’s entertainment no longer being entertaining for its intended audience as it caters ever more to grown-ups. Not that that is a bad thing.

A Clean Slate

My room is now clean for the first time in a few months. It may be cluttered and unorganized, but I can see the floor. It is amazing the difference a change in your surroundings can make to your mental state. I now feel so relaxed in my room that I was content to literally curl up on my bed like a cat and take a nap today. I squandered a few hours, but it felt nice. So I guess the time is not totally wasted.

Cute cats seem to be driving traffic to C/K's blog. And I steal everything from him. EVERYTHING!

I now also have a space to work. My desk previously held a pillow, a pile of loose papers, and a tube of toothpaste; those items are still stacked haphazardly in the vicinity, but I can use my desk. It is a sort of architect/artist’s desk with a surface that can be adjusted at an angle. I have it at what my eyeball estimates to be 20-30 degrees. This way, my laptop can be arranged at what is theoretically a more ergonomic position and it will be more difficult to pile things on the desk. Then again, I compensated before by placing things on that pillow to create a level area.

I have sort of failed NaNoWriMo, but I am okay with that. After all, I can go for it at any time. I am still stuck between stories to write, though, which is frustrating. However, I know I still have the passion to write: while having coffee with a friend, I launched into synopses and explanations for my current rotation of stories, enthusiastically sharing details and proudly displaying a map I created in GIMP. I just need to give my one story some direction to continue it. I have also tried immersing myself in my materials for an older story. While I know what I want out of that one, I have a couple of issues with the plot. Either way, the solution, as always, is to power through.

Potpourri II

The person I talked about in my previous post does not, in fact support gay marriage. But she nearly does. Or does not. Her’s is a complicated viewpoint.

I did not carve any pumpkins this year. Partly this was laziness, but another contributing factor was that several houses have been vandalized in my neighborhood. Our mailbox was smashed and the reprobates even broke into our neighbors’ house. As such, I feared for the safety of any jack-o-lanterns I might painstakingly carve.

Also, a third thing.

Puzzling Opposition

I am currently working on a persuasive speech on gay marriage for my Effective Speech class, and I am reminded of a bizarre argument I heard in that class.

(Since I shared my blog in class, there is a chance that the person I am writing about is reading this. In this case, know that I am not trying to make fun of you or be mean spirited.)

The argument was made by a woman who, despite being a political conservative, is okay with gay marriage. She confessed that she believes gay people are born that way, so to discriminate against them does not make sense.

But then she admitted that she is against gay couples adopting children. And her reason was… well, here it is: children of gay couples face ridicule; therefore, to spare them from this mistreatment, gay people should not be allowed to adopt at all.

To me, there is an inherent flaw in the logic of this argument. The source of this discrimination is not the actual adoption; it is society’s reaction to it. The thing to do is not prevent adoption, but teach tolerance.

Let me put it this way: before racial integration was common, it was a fair bet that any black student attending a previously whites-only school would face much difficulty and hardship. Using the logic of this person’s argument, the solution is to never integrate schools.

(I actually kind of hope she is reading this, as I wanted to explain this to her, but I do not know how to broach the topic without being a sanctimonious asshole.)