What If We Aren't Alone?

Okay, let's say hypothetically that there really is advanced life in the universe. And let's also say that they've found us and have a way to travel millions of light years to get here. To me, it makes sense that the only thing they seem to be doing is flying around looking at things. They seem to only be observing. They seem to only be studying us and our culture. We do this too when we observe animals or fish. Just imagine fish, at the bottom of the ocean and then one of our subs that is sent to explore passes by them. They would probably be really confused. "Did you see those lights?" they would ask each other. "Yeah, that was weird." But then when they tell their friends, the friends would just think they're crazy or making stuff up. My point is, maybe we're the fishes to some alien submarine. Maybe there are creatures out there that are so smart, so advanced, so much better than us that they come to observe us the same way we observe the animals on our planet. Maybe we're someone else's animals.

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Macbeth, Act III part i

I know no one's reading this, but I thought I'd finish it up, so I'll keep posting until it's done.

III.

A year passed; Macbeth had changed, and Banquo knew it. Life on Olympus was different. No longer did everyone have the great freedoms to which they were once accustomed. Their new leader was not the kind man they once knew; no longer was he the man who had saved them from countless Lednarian attacks. He was a heartless fool. The stabilization computers were frequently out of commission, and he did little to help the people dying from lack of oxygen or excess atmospheric contaminants. People died of diseases left unchecked by the waste-management systems. No computer workers were half as skilled as the master Macbeth. Misery struck all: freedoms were revoked, disease and hunger were rampant. Macbeth no longer evenly distributed food, but instead sent much of it to the rich and powerful, while little was left to the poor. Olympus was falling.

During the previous year, President Jason Macbeth had not yet slept a full night's sleep and his state of mind—ever cautious and paranoid—showed it. He felt that even his best friend was preparing to rebel. Without their knowing it, Macbeth hired spies to keep track of his subordinates' activities and sectors. The spy in Banquo's offices retrieved and submitted a document that Banquo wrote one late night, similar to Macbeth's own distress-writing. The document said:

Thou hast it now: hero, leader, power, all, as the Velda promised, and I fear thou playedst most foully for it. Yet it was said that thou shalt not have any leaders after thee, but that succeeding presidents will be of my bloodline. As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine—their prophecies came to pass—may they not be my oracles as well and set me up in hope?

Macbeth, being the power-corrupt, paranoid man he had become, believed these writings implied that his dearest friend was planning a coup d'etat to claim the throne for his own family. But he had been left in charge of Olympus, the citizens voted for him as leader! All was rightfully his!

Macbeth made his own plans for Banquo.

The two friends met in the president's private office where Macbeth personally invited Banquo to the large banquet he was preparing as a celebration of the prosperous year. Banquo almost laughed at the concept of a “prosperous year” but knew better. Macbeth may have noticed the restrained chuckle, or simply changed his mind, but he elevated his invitation to an order. Whereafter, Banquo assured Macbeth that he would perform every order with exactness, and would attend the dinner, no matter the circumstances.

Banquo left the office, and, as he exited, met two gruff-looking men who appeared to be waiting for an opportunity to speak with the president. The three exchanged pleasantries and Banquo, noticing their poorly-hidden malice for him, excused himself to tend to his duties with exactness.

The unshaven and, poor-looking men entered the office and Macbeth greeted them with a question.

Macbeth skipped greetings, “Have you considered what I have told you? Do you realize that it was Steeva Banquo who has caused these misfortunes upon you and your families? The environmental and biological regulation systems are down, and he has done nothing. Have you realized that he is to blame for your troubles and you have been deceived and hurt by him?”

“You made it known to us.” The first man replied.

“Yes, I did. Are you ready to perform the necessary deeds to help all of us? Are you man enough to kill for your families?

“We are men, my liege.” The second answered, slightly offended.

“Banquo is both your enemy and mine, and you must cleanse Olympus of the taint that is the Banquo family name. I know that on this day of every week, the Steeva and his son sit in the third ring commons, where they are generally alone. They to speak with one another and have family time—used to plan a rebellion and the commoners' and Olympus's destruction. You must murder them then.”

They tried.

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Classic Doebler: May 1, 2006

Procrastination: Great Idea or The Greatest Idea

I was working on my English research paper, so I could turn it in and get a ridiculously large amount of extra credit...And by working I mean I was playing Bejeweled. Anyway, I started thinking that maybe procrastination isn't such a good idea. You see, there's a point that you reach when you've put all your work off for so long that you don't have any choice but to spend an entire day working on it to make up for all the Bejeweled you've been playing. And right off the bat, what is it about big projects that makes all the due dates always line up on the same day? Every time, that's the way it is no matter what.

But then I started thinking, "Hey wait a minute. Procrastination rocks" (Doebler 12). As far as I'm concerned, it doesn't matter when you do your homework as long as it gets done. I'm going to spend twenty minutes on my chemistry whether I do it on Tuesday after school or on Friday morning before class starts or on Friday morning during English class or on Friday morning in the passing periods.

Also, working against a deadline is when some of the greatest inventions in history happened. Think about World War II. More inventions were invented by inventors during World War II than during any other time in human history. Look it up. Some of you might say, "I looked that up, and....it's wrong" (Douche 4) No, it isn't. You're wrong. In fact, you're retarded.

During the Cold War, we were competing against communists in the Space Race. We won that race. Come to think of it, we clobbered them. You know why? It's because we totally were spacing off during the fifties (probably playing Bejeweled) while the commies were developing Sputnik and shooting it into orbit. When we realized they did that we were like: "OH F***!" (America 1957). And then we tried really hard to made up for it and look what happened. We are the only remaining super power in the world. We the greatest economy, the greatest military, and we are the only country to ever visit the moon and play golf. All because we procrastinated.

One other thing, I’m really getting tired of pennies. Every time I say this someone has to chime in and say something to the effect of: “Oh yeah, well…my cousin had a jar of pennies and he cashed it in and it was like twenty bucks!” (Douche 9). Okay. But I have a one dollar bill that’s worth twenty dollars, and it doesn’t weigh thirty pounds.

Work Cited

America, United States of. A History of Pwning N00bs: Fascists, Communists, and Terrorists. New York: Where Else Do They Publish Books Publishing Company, 1989.

Doebler. Yesterday’s Thoughts: Volume 2. Valparaiso: Awesome Publishing Company, 2006.

Bag, Douche. Annoying Things People Shouldn’t Say But Do. New York: Humor Ruiner Publishing Inc., 2001.

Original Post

The Bus Ride Home

I just want to tell you a little story about my bus ride home. I ride the bus because I don't have a car. I'm the only senior on the bus, and I'm also the only one who isn't mentally retarded. Well anyway, there was a substitute bus driver today. I have a problem with bus drivers. I wrote about it on my ancient blog from long ago. Mostly, it's that they think they have power, but they don't. So if real bus drivers don't have any power, substitute bus drivers have even less.

The kids behind me are loudly swearing and talking about blow jobs and getting in fights with people, and I guess that is perfectly acceptable to this particular sub. Then when we get to my stop, he starts slowing down and I stood up to get off the bus. There were like five girls in seats in front of me, and I would stop and let them go out of their seats before me because I'm chivalric like that. I'm the last one to get off at this stop, but before I can cross that yellow line, the sub bus driver puts his arm across the aisle, so I can't pass and says (and I quote), "Sir, for your own safety, please remain seated until the bus has come to a complete stop."

I wish I could have seen my face. It would have been funny. It was probably a combination of "what are you doing" and "f*** you". I said, "Okay..." and got off the bus. And then I walked extra slow across the street just so the guy would have to sit and wait for me just a few seconds longer. If I want to endanger my own safety, I think that's my right. Smokers get to do it. How come I can't? I'm eighteen.

Well, that's my story. I wish I could have said something cooler than okay. That's so lame. If you can think of something really cool I could have said, you should leave a comment, so I will be better prepared next time.

The Yearbook Is the Ultimate Book of Shame

Toilet Paper

I think it's strange that to clean off the most disgusting, bacteria-laden material that comes out of our bodies, we use toilet paper. That's just tissue paper. It's tissue paper for your butt. I think it's weird though. I mean, we wouldn't clean our hands with tissue paper, and we wouldn't clean our faces with tissue paper. But we clean our butts with tissue paper? That's kind of gross.

You can't spell toilet with toil! I'm just going to throw that out there.

This started as a comment on Scott's post about Government class... but it kept getting longer and longer and earned itself a post.

I love it when teachers pause after I ask, "what's the point?" or "why do we need to know this?"

I think it's funny and ironic when people think I'm so smart. Especially when it's people whose grades are higher than mine and they value their grades so much. They care so much. Too much. My grades seriously aren't as high as theirs. But they think I'm smart because I ask questions. So, because I ask questions they automatically think I am "so smart." Why? They don't ask questions. But they don't miss points on tests. I think it's not that I'm smart. It's that I'm curious. The rest of the world needs to be curious. Don't invest your entire life and all your energy into perfect grades.
Learn a skill, enjoy something. Find something you care about.
Research something you care about.
Research something you don't care about.
Go spend an hour reading about the presidential candidates, discover whose policies you most agree with. I don't care who.
Form your own opinion, don't repeat your parents' or friends' opinions.
Go learn an instrument. Learn to read music, while you're at it.
Learn about a country's culture. If you like the culture, learn its language. Find a way to get there.
Explore.
Go walk around a park.
Get lost.
Drive to nowhere, and don't be in a hurry to get there.
Stop at stop signs for a few seconds. It shows you're not in a hurry like the rest of humanity.
Slow down.
Listen to a band you've never heard, and don't turn it off after 15 seconds. Give them a whole album's worth of listening.
Listen to your favorite band's whole discography.
Go camping. It's snowing? So what?
Read a book in a genre you never thought you'd ever approach.
Actually read the Bible--don't just accept it's right cause you're parents probably accepted it was right because theirs probably did. You don't have to read the whole thing, but flip through it. Or maybe you won't like what it says. That's ok, too.
Spend a week off the computer except for homework. (It's hard.)
Write. You don't have to write about anything. Write about nothing. I do it all the time. I'm doing it now!
Be curious. Ask "why?" Why do you like this band? Why do you dislike a certain food? Why does your mom say you can't do something you want to do? Why does she want you to do something hard? Why don't you want to do it? Why do we do what we do? Why is "everyone else is doing it" a good excuse? Why do we act as we do? Why aren't we friends anymore? Why not be friends? Why am I here? Why don't I say hi to that cool girl I met once? Why don't I say hi to everyone? Why don't I like dances? Why don't you and I just watch a movie and relax? Why is everyone in such a rush? Why does it matter if someone disagrees with you?
Why?
Why not?

Driving.

OK, So you approach a stop sign. Normal.

But WAIT! There are 3 other cars there! All at the same time! What do you do?! You all stop.

Nervous glances are exchanged across the intersection as 4 cars sit, unmoving. The rule is "the guy on your right goes first." Who goes?! Everyone's on someone's right! How do you know what to do?!

I hate this predicament. Fortunately for me, there are those A-type personality-having selfish people who will take charge and go first.





Oh, and another driving woe. Have you ever noticed that every time there is something slow moving on your side of the road--be it a walker or a biker or just a big slow-moving vehicle with its flashers on--there will inevitably be a car coming toward you just as you want to pass him/her/it. Always. Without fail. And in the case of walkers and bikers, that is incredibly obnoxious. There is enough room to go, and there will almost always be someone behind you, so stopping to let the oncoming car pass is silly. There is just enough room to make it between the biker/walker and the oncoming car. But it's scary and nerve-wracking.

You probably don't understand what I'm describing, so here's an impossible-to-decipher psuedo-3-d drawing to clarify... or make it harder to understand.

Those Stupid Little Pockets On Jeans

Okay, question. Has anyone ever used the little pocket on your jeans before? It's too small for anything but coins, and even when you put your coins in the pocket, you can't get them back out again. I think the edges of these pockets are made of reinforced concrete. They don't stretch at all, so pretty much everything you put into it is gone forever. These pockets are a lot like me on a pro football team....just waaaaaay too small to do any good.

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How My Government Class Is Destroying America

It's weird to think that a government class is destroying America, since there is not a more American class than American government. The problem isn't what is being taught, but how it is being taught. And that is, it's turning me into a blind, submissive, mindless slave. People wonder why Americans routinely score less on tests than their European or Asian counterparts. It's not that we're not as smart, and it's not that we haven't had the same opportunities. No, it's that in our effort to make our schools better, we've made them worse.

It is in my government class that I see this degradation most prevalently. We're learning a huge amount of information really fast. And not all this information is exceedingly important to know. It doesn't really matter that it is an implied power for the states to regulate the sale of alcohol. The only reason I would need to know that is because it's going to be on a test someday. I don't need to know it in real life. As soon as the test is over, I will forget it. And that's how our education system works. We memorize facts, take a test, and forget them. And since we're memorizing so many minuscule details, we fail to see the big picture. In the hustle and bustle of learning so many things, we fail to understand the most basic ideas. We fail to see that the states have the power to regulate most things in within their state.

At the same time in government class, I am amazed the the staggering amount of copying there is. I copy the homework from the book. I copy my notes from the overhead. My teacher copied the notes from the book. I copy my study guide from the book. I copy my test answers from the study guide.

That's not learning. That's just transferring information.

I'm not enrolled in copying class; I'm enrolled in government. I already know how to copy things.

But, Scott, how is copying destroying America?

When you copy something, you accept it as true. You don't check it to make sure it's right. You don't think about it. You don't question it. You just accept it. If our society stops questioning things and just accepts them as necessary or true, then we lose what America is all about.

Our government was created by some of the most free-thinking, intelligent people in history. They questioned everything, risked everything, and are remembered as some of the greatest men in history. Today, we are taught not to think for ourselves. We are encouraged not to question. People who raise their hand and ask "why do we have to learn this" are automatically assumed to be disturbing class. I see these comments as a good thing. They are reality checks.

I find it ironic that in an effort to make ourselves better Americans, we are sowing the seeds of our own failure. If the youngest don't leave school with the ability to think for ourselves, we will not be better off. If the next generation is not critical of the old system, there will never be change. If the liberals are indifferent, no progress will be made. The advancement of our society stops, and we are surpassed.

So the next time you wonder why we have to learn this, ask. The next time you don't want to copy something, don't. Be yourself. Think for yourself. Do it your way. It'll be better.

Men's Secret Greatest Fear

There is no fear like the fear a man temporarily feels when he reaches to his back pocket for his wallet, and it isn't there. Our stomach will lurch. We will ask ourselves where it is. We won't show that we're afraid, but we are. Men's ability to carry all the stuff we need for a entire day in our pockets is what sets us apart from women. The loss of our wallet makes us feel degraded and naked. Secretly of course. We never show our feelings, our emotions. That makes us feel less manly too.

Don't Count Your Snow Before They Hatch