Log in

11 April 2011 @ 05:02 pm
 Here’s a thought:

Many Christians, in my experience, have said that Satan is constantly trying to tempt God’s people. He does this through popular culture, entertainment, and peers. They say that this temptation is anything that tries to lead God’s followers (them) from the teachings of the Bible and the gospel.

But here’s my thought: where is the logic in the way Christianity controls every perception and opinion of the people who follow it? How can Christians experience their world objectively if there is a constant film of religious teachings that coat what they experience with the “right” way of seeing it? (My personal answer is: “They can’t.” That’s why there are so many angry Christians and so many angry “seculars” butting heads over the “truth.”) Those who argue that Christianity is not a cult seem to believe that cults are only for “evil” people who do bad things, like abuse children or murder people.

But in reality, some definitions of cult n. are: “a misplaced or excessive admiration for a particular person or thing; a relatively small group of people having religious beliefs or practices regarded by others as strange or sinister; a system of religious veneration and devotion directed toward a particular figure or object.” So how is Christianity not a cult when it controls everything that its members believe and do, while those members are wholly and completely reverent of the idea of Jesus/God and his/their teachings and others see them as misguided radicals?

That “Christian lens” that they have over their eyes seems to be what makes them so outraged over what seems to go against the Bible’s teachings. This outrage leads them to public protest, where they push their beliefs on others.

[Some examples that come to mind are: 1. Harry Potter is bad because it deals with witchcraft (and wizardry), and the Bible says those who deal with the black arts are wayward and not of God.

2. Or the gays are evil and fallen because they do not uphold the Adam & Eve/marital relationship that the Bible propones.

3. Or every life is sacred, so the beginnings of a baby must not be killed.

4. Or someone not of the Christian religion is a sinner and not a fit leader because they couldn’t possibly know the difference between right and wrong (I see this in the huge sway that religion has in positions of power, like the President or those running for office; if these individuals don’t express an interest or adherence to Christianity, suspicion arises as to their motives or abilities to lead).]

From an outside perspective, I feel like Christians are pressing their religious doctrine on others who have chosen to lead lives for themselves; that they have no right to preach the “right” way to live when others have been living fulfilling, happy lives without religion. Some people need that structure, I get that, but not everyone does. I know the pressure to proselytize comes from the Bible and their belief that without Jesus, one will not go to heaven, but still. I find it rude. I find it wrong when Christians start bickering with “seculars” about the rightness or wrongness of something when it’s political. For the sake of an example, I’ll choose gay marriage. Christians oppose gay marriage because the Bible (supposedly) says that marriage is only for a man and a woman (my theory on that point is that man/woman union was taught with reverence because it’s the primary way to prolong the species. Biologically, that’s a good thing to teach). That man/woman union has become so ingrained in their religious morality bar that anything that opposes it sends the bar into a shrieking fit.

They seem to ignore the fact that most modern marriage ends in divorce (and the primary type of marriage in that statistic is heterosexual marriage), that marriage is now a thing of convenience and status, that there is a surplus of humans on the earth and we don’t need to prolong the species so aggressively, and that love is more than image. Love, which is the thing their God supposedly has in unconditional abundance, is beyond sex (I mean male and female here). You can love your grandmother, your father, your sister, or your best friend and it’s accepted. But as soon as that love takes on a romantic origin, suddenly it’s policed.

I just think that’s wrong.

Marriage today, from a political point of view, is a situation that involves two people who live together in the same house, with (usually) the same bank account, and shared tax information. That’s it. Marriage today is just a living arrangement recognized by the government. So why are the individuals in that arrangement policed so aggressively by religion/Christianity?

Once again, where is the right for people to tell other people how to live their personal lives?

So as a recap: Christianity is an all-encompassing way of life that controls the way individuals within it see their world. My confusion: where does that personal choice bleed into the lives of other people and be justified?

I don’t get it.

Current Mood: annoyed
22 November 2008 @ 02:47 pm

After work on Thursday I went to the local bookstore and picked up Twilight.

I have to say that I was fairly bored for the first two hundred pages, the majority of what occurred being very soft and sugary. This is the condensed version: Bella moves, she meets Edward, she thinks of Edward, she sees Edward, she talks to Edward, she thinks Edward hates her, she ignores Edward, she finds herself liking Edward, Edward finally talks to her, OMG NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE WHERE EDWARD SAVES HER, she and Edward fight, she ignores Edward, Edward acts like he likes her . . . . . . .

Dear God.

And THEN, after two hundred-something pages of this, THEN they decide that they're in love with each other, because apparently Bella is the ONLY HUMAN ON THE FACE OF THE PLANET who isn't like the rest. She intrigues Edward. Edward can't listen to her thoughts, so of course he falls in love with her and takes it upon himself to protect her every move because she's a hopeless clutz.

After that, cue a hundred pages of fluff. Meadows and dark bedrooms and kisses and ignoring every other student at school ... oh yes, such bliss and such stimulating reading.

It was only at the end, the last hundred pages or so that the action finally kicks in. Enter rogue band of vampires - one is a hunter, and he wants Bella because he can't have Bella. Edward's vampire family tries to protect her but she eventually takes the high road and turns herself in to save her scatter-brained mother, finding out at the last minute that - OH! such a surprise - the evil vampire tricked her and doesn't have her mother. She gets beaten to a bloody pulp, Edward swoops in to save her right at the nick of time, evil vampire is vanquished and she is nursed back to health. Yaaay!

It's a pretty standard and boring plot to me. Not to mention all of the emotional rollercoastering that's involved. Edward alternates between loving Bella to a painful (not to mention unrealistic) degree to loathing himself and wanting to leave her to save her the trouble. Bella's got a head on her shoulders at least (unlike some female main characters I can mention), but COMPLETELY succumbs to her emotions with this first boyfriend interest, practically throwing her soul at him to make sure he won't leave her. Can we be less desperate please?

Now don't get me wrong. It was a very well-written book. The author - minus some lacking stimulus for the plot - wrote the story well. I can see why it's so outrageously popular, and why so many little girls are swooning all over the United States; because what female doesn't like the thought of someone beautiful, caring, brave, and hopelessly besotted with you? It's a romance so sweet that it gives cavities. More power to the people who are hopelessly addicted to this story.

I've been assured countless times that the story gets better in the rest of the books, but I suppose that remains to be seen. I might give them a chance.

But since I've already agreed to seeing the movie, there is a chance that the story will take on a new light with the visuals and some (hopefully) good acting. We shall see. I'm sure that another post with my response to it will be spamming my page soon.
- - -
On another note, I finally saw Hellboy II last night and I was visually tittilated. The characters, costumes, and environments were fantastic, and after doing a quick web search I discovered the existence of an art book for the movie which is now on my wish list. THIS site in particular tipped me off to the gorgeous art.

But Abe was just as cool as usual, Hellboy's and Elizabeth's relationship was funny and cute, Nuala's wardrobe was to die for, the storyline was intriguing and gorgeous, and Prince Nuada totally gave me a hard on. All in all, I would say it was a good experience.

18 November 2008 @ 08:16 pm
I blame the big guys upstairs for my bumbling idiocy today, because I most certainly DID NOT GET THE MEMO that would have warned me of the possible repercussions to my leaving the house this morning. Thanks guys, really.

From awkward speech patterns to awkward eating (Public Service Announcement says that eating a Chipotle burrito on Awkward Day is not advisable), from awkward stomach aches to awkward hair, today was generally and frustratingly awkward.

I ran into things and I couldn't pick things up. I fumbled, bumbled, and scrabbled. I accidentally marked myself with pens, and my hair tried to eat me at least ten times. I received strange looks from the receptionist at my work (whether because of my attire, which consisted of comfortable street wear of jeans and a jacket, or because her sandwich was distracting her, I know not), and I drove in such a manner that I could have been pulled over for reckless driving.

As you can imagine, it's been quite a day.

But I was able to eat udon, the weather was cold, and I'm about to watch Fur. That about makes up for all of the emotional trauma.

* * *
On a side note, I think I unintentionally made plans to go see Twilight next week. Now, being an individual who did not jump the bandwagon when the first few little girls went screaming into the night to find their own sexy vampire boyfriend, I know very little about the series that has swept across America with a force to rival Harry Potter. But, seeing as I have received some good reviews from people whose opinions matter to me, I decided to cave and give it a try, reading the novel before going to see the movie. We shall see what the verdict is hopefully by the weekend's end (since I plan on hitting up the bookstore and robbing a book and a chair for multiple hours), though I have to say at this point that I doubt there is little that can rival Laurell K. Hamilton's Anita Blake. That series is the most realistic adaptation I have ever read, and is brimming with action, sex, and other goodies like wereanimals, zombies, and a delicious French vampire.

I'm pretty much expecting a cotton candy ride with idealized vampires and true love tales, but there's nothing wrong with having that occasionally, right?

Even so, things like this are both laughable and frightening: LINK

I once again leave you with the word of the day:

Oblivion, n.
1. The state or condition in which the wicked cease from struggling and the dreary are at rest. 2. Fame's eternal dumping ground. 3. Cold storage for high hopes. 4. A place where ambitious authors meet their works without pride and their betters without envy. 5. A dormitory without an alarm clock.

                The Devil's Dictionary

18 November 2008 @ 12:40 am
The weather continues to dabble in its obnoxious temperature see-sawing, and it's NOVEMBER for Christ's sake.

Thankfully, today was blissfully cold after experiencing weather in the eighties (F) only two days prior, and my body was basking in it. This afternoon I ate lunch outside on a stone bench that was nestled in the shade, where it was coldest. The air was crisp, the iciness of the stone easily passing through my jeans to trail cool kisses along my skin, pleasuring it and doing nothing other than make my day. Even after getting through a schedule filled with work, sketching and getting my blood drawn I hadn't had enough of the cold, and upon arriving home I stripped down to boxers and a t-shirt and let my toes freeze. Even now my toes are still little ice cubes as I sit on the stairs where the internet connection can't play at being daft. Ah, bliss.

Over the past few days I've realized something crucial for nearly the two hundredth time: that time is an obstinate and wiley creature. No matter how much I bribe it with tasty treats and sweet endearments it pays me no mind, sweeping away with my daily dreams and leaving me to choke on its dusty wake. I've been struggling with balancing schoolwork, my job(s) and my sanity, the sacrificing that is going into it bringing me to look at winter break with a new and passionate desire. Only three weeks away!

But even though I've been struggling with what little time I have, I've made sure to set aside a little bit each day to dedicate to my current project: writing a book. Hire the hallelujah choir, flag down the newspapers, write up eyewitnesses! For I am making good on an old personal promise to myself. After writing short stories and roleplaying (not to mention being an avid and voracious reader) for my entire life, I'm finally taking that next step to becoming an author.

With 27,000 words backing me up, I think it's safe to say that I'm on on a roll and with no losing steam in sight.

(Knock on wood)

In other news, I've been playing with my camera:

- Pictures! -Collapse )

I still have an addiction to Mango Tazo tea, and my car is slowly turning into something relating to the vehicle of an unlawful ruffian with alcoholic tendencies. I need to get around to recycling those bottles.

Snowflakes and love, LJ community.


23 October 2008 @ 06:27 pm
Love, n.
A temporary insanity curable by marriage or by removal of the patient from the influences under which he incurred the disorder. This disease, like caries and many other ailments, is prevalent only among civilized races living under artificial conditions; barbarous nations breathing pure air and eating simple food enjoy immunity from its ravages. It is sometimes fatal, but more frequently to the physician than to the patient.

                         - The Devil's Dictionary

-     -    -    -    -
I'm sick-but-not-sick yet again. My head is throbbing and my world is shifting in a blatant and hateful attempt to knock me off my feet, but I think I'll survive. It's only been two weeks. Even still, I left my doctor a message just in case. We'll see if I'm actually dying shortly.

I spent most of today sprawled on the bed reading up on triplesix's entries and feeling pointlessly inspired. So much for being productive when house-ridden, huh? But I'm going to have to get my act back together within the week if I want to make the NaNoWriMo deadline. Yay for masochistic tendencies.

Woooooooo neasea.
I want my ice cream nowz <3

04 October 2008 @ 10:33 am
Good morning children.
I think I'm going to learn this for amusement.
Animal personification to portray criminal human behavior is so fun, isn't it?

A Flea, A Louse
A flea, a louse,
On a stool were sitting,
They were playing cards, 
The flea was losing.
The flea went out of its mind,
Caught the louse, louse, louse,
Threw it on the ground
And twisted its neck, neck, neck.
Mistress Flea,
What did you do there, there, there?
I committed a crime,
A murder-der-der.
You'll be judged
By a spider
And sent to jail
By a hedgehog
And hung
By a turtle.
04 October 2008 @ 01:11 am
The weather has been getting cooler at such a painfully slow rate here. I don't know how much longer I can stand the heat; I want my favorite seasons to get here already. The breezes on some recent days are merely taunting me, holding promises of cool-winded inspiration that is just out of my reach. I want to break out my jackets and warmer clothes, damnit.

Thursday was beautiful, though. After coming out of class I couldn't help but stand at the railing of the second floor, looking out over a large grassy field in the middle of the campus. The breeze was delicious, the music I selected perfect for the mood. The fifteen minutes I spent there was a time that revitalized my emotional state from the past month. It was luscious.

I saw a girl I had met in a past art class walking across the field, wearing her usual ensemble of funky bandana, ripped jeans, and big headphones. Her presence on the field was pretty much against the norm, since kids usually stick to the walkways that border it. But I enjoyed watching her dance to her music and gesture animatedly when she got on the phone, though some snotty girl standing at the rail some ways off imitated her mockingly. I find it disgusting to come across such close-minded people.

The energy I mentioned two days ago has strangely stuck with me. I'm beginning to think it has something to do with my diet (the technical term for what someone habitually eats - not the weight loss kind). I've been eating like a ravenous tortoise - which means, if you didn't pick up my analogous sarcasm, that I haven't been eating much - and have undoubtedly  been losing some weight. Maybe I'm returning to a state of being that's similar to a child, where their limitless energy spawns from the fact that their bodies are so small and compact. Maybe my body is using the energy that would have gone to regulating daily performance for giving me an energy-drink-reaction without the toxic hyper liquid.

Or not.

Just theorizing. Badly, I'm sure.

Have you ever noticed how the world appears when you have headphones on? It's as if you have your own, personalized theme music playing in the empty spaces around your body, feeling so obvious and loud when compared with the visuals of the world around you, yet so personal since no one else can hear it. I like the concept.

Speaking of strange noticings ... One of the most amazing feelings in the world is the sensation of newly-shaven legs against bed sheets or jeans or water ... I'll give you two guesses what I did this morning.

I leave you with the word of the day:

A mysterious form of matter secreted by the brain. Its chief activity consists in the endeavor to ascertain its own nature, the futility of the attempt being due to the fact it has nothing but itself to know itself with.

- The devil's dictionary

03 October 2008 @ 11:30 pm
"I read once about a woman whose secret fantasy was to have an affair with an artist. She thought that he would really see her; he would see every curve, every line, every indentation and love them because they made part of the beauty that made her unique."

"Once upon a time I wanted to know what love was. Love is there if you want it to be. You just have to see that its wrapped in beauty and hidden away in between the seconds of your life. If you don't stop for a minute, you might miss it."

- Cashback
03 October 2008 @ 03:28 pm
This song is to me as blood is to my veins.

Experience here

01 October 2008 @ 09:33 pm
FINALLY, my week-and-a-half-long sprint is over and done with. I've taken my two tests, written my one essay, and done the 20"x28" self portrait for my art class. UGH.

When looking back, I do have to say that this art experience has been absolutely ridiculous - perhaps the most ridiculous I've come across to date. Even after working on the damned thing for two weeks fairly consistently, I still had a large amount of work to do before turning it in this afternoon; I was up till 4-something this morning working my poor drawing hand into the ground in an attempt to get the blasted thing done. But, even after all of my hours of blood, sweat, and tears, I essentially failed ... I still have a portion of it to do before it's time to ship it off to the next art event this weekend. God help me.

But upon arriving home from a class filled with a definitive lack of drawing due to a throbbing hand, I decided to give my fingery appendage a WELL DESERVED rest after the crippling amount of work that was done without too much complaint. Even after working it for 12 hours straight yesterday, it merely puffed out gradually, eventually coming to the point where it was unable to move the colored pencil any more. I cradled the poor thing to my chest and promptly went to sleep for an hour, hoping that some miracle-working REM would be able to heal it a bit. But alas - upon waking, only a mere fifteen minutes of additional work could be dedicated to this new artistic bane of my existence before the clock pressed me to journey to the shower.

However, surprising as it may be, I've been particularly zesty today for having survived on a mere hour+ of sleep. From springing up and down stairs to having an unusually insatiable appetite for drawing, I exhibited symptoms of something drastically different from sleep exhaustion. Go figure.

I bet you the coffee brewed in the studio was spiked with something today.

You know how them crazy artist people can be.

By the way, TAZO is love.