in which i damn thinspo sites and offer some optimism

If you're my friend on facebook, you probably saw me post a status saying 'there are times when I just really hate the world.'

Here's an example of why. http://fromthintofatandbackagain.tumblr.com/
Thinspo sites. Seriously. what. the. f.
Every single one of these should be shut down.  


Look I get that you have the First Amendment on your side and it's your lifestyle choice. You're going to say 'you don't understand me' and 'you have no right to tell me how I get to live' and 'it's my body, I can do with it what I want' and all that crap.


You're right in one regard. I'll never understand you. I've never come to the point that I've wanted to restrict or purge as an emotional response to what's wrong in my life (or for whatever reason you choose to do it). Because quite frankly I love food. So maybe I'll never fully understand how you choose to act the way you do. But I've seen what it does.

Eating disorders nearly killed one of my friends...twice.
Eating disorders nearly tore my family apart.
Eating disorders ruined me for months.


AND YOU DEDICATE A SITE TO SUPPORTING THIS?! 
You tell the world that this is fine. You tell the world that your struggles against the forces of food are some sort of valiant martyrdom and your self-destruction is a victory.


You are wrong. Terribly, completely, utterly wrong.


You are succumbing to the darkest forces known to man with every restriction, every purge, every dark thought.


Your beauty is not tied to your weight. Your value is not tied to your weight. 


Your beauty lies in who you are. And who you are is not your figure. Who you are is who you love, what you do, your passions, your dreams. And if any of those involve your figure, these aren't you. These are sick perversions. Don't let them define you.


I realize that platitudes like these don't work most of the time. I'm holding out hope that they'll work for someone. I realize that thinspo sites aren't going to go away because an angry teenager told them to. I'm hoping that this will diminish their power to some slight degree. 

this song...

All of the following happen when I listen to this song.

1. If I'm on shuffle (which is about 75% of my listening), I say something to the effect of "aw, yes!" or "good song!"
2. I am rendered speechless for about three minutes and forty-two seconds. 
3. I find it nearly impossible to think of anything else besides how incomparably beautiful this song is. 
4. I marvel at the fact that this isn't the version they put on the actual album.
5. I repeat the song at least once. I'm in the midst of my third play in a row right now.

Thrice, you never cease to amaze me. 

marching band challenge

Stolen from tumblr, though I'm not posting this in one-day increments. Sorry non-band kids, just bear with me here.

Day 1 - Name, instrument, position, school, background

Michael Denison, alto sax/bass drum 5-6
Souderton Area High School (Big Red Marching Band, Mirage Indoor Drumline), University of Maryland College Park, Chesapeake Indoor Percussion (not really a school, but I'm marching there anyway)

Background: played sax since 4th grade, marched 4 years in a pretty...unsuccessful high school band, marched indoor '07-08 and '09-10 at Souderton on bass 5, fell in love with percussion, marched bass 6 at UMCP, marching bass 5 at Chesapeake, looking to play percussion as much as I can, even though I'll probably never be able to play anything more than bottom bass.

Day 2 - Favorite Corps

DCI: Phantom Regiment. Such brilliant show design, and consistently amazing percussion.
WGI: Riverside Community College. Best tenor lines almost every year, and I love that they focus more on chops than gimmicks. I love Pulse and Rhythm X's show designs, but RCC makes me gasp just by watching their tenors' hands. Also, they've been dominating for a DECADE whereas RX and Pulse have come onto the scene pretty late--they'll have to have a few more good years before they supplant RCC.

Can you tell I like WGI more than DCI?

Day 3 - Favorite Show You’ve Performed

Mirage Indoor Drumline '09-10: A Cognitive View of Psychology
After marching my sophomore year, I came back to a bassline that had improved incredibly in two years. We couldn't split 16ths in Symmetrics...suddenly we were locking 32nds. The drill was awesome, even if I couldn't make half the sets. The music was really well-written, and I've never been more excited walking off the floor than I was after that show. Suck it, TIA judges.

Day 4 - Least Favorite Show You’ve Performed

University of Maryland '10, Dance Crazes
It just sucked. Dumb concept, could not motivate myself to learn the music, and it was over thanksgiving break. Close behind: Big Red Marching Band 07-08, America's Music: Aaron Copland. Did not translate to marching band AT ALL.

Day 5 - Favorite Show You’ve Seen
Seen live? Whatever BD '07 (or was it '08?) was. They ROCKED Allentown that night.
Seen ever: Pulse '10: Worth the Wait. I still watch it periodically, and I'm still amazed. Yeah, I know, RCC is my favorite line, but that show was designed so well--the 'wait for it...WAIT FOR IT!!!,' the perfect body movements, the roll they locked for a minute, the stick tossing...everything.

Day 6 - Favorite Marching Memory
Walking off the floor after A Cognitive View of Psychology in finals. The energy we took off the floor was amazing. We threw down the best show of our lives, and we had every right to believe that we were going home with a medal, or at least the highest score Souderton had gotten in years.

Day 7 - Least Favorite Marching Memory
Hearing the scores after that show's finals. 86?! After getting 89 before prelims, 88 at prelims WITHOUT ELECTRICITY so you couldn't hear our pit, fixing everything...ARE YOU FREAKING SERIOUS, TIA?!?!

Don't know if I'll ever forgive them for that.

Day 8 - The One Feeling During The Season That You’ll Never Forget

Championships. Walking into Wildwood and seeing a stadium full of people, all of them interested in this art you've devoted months of your life to. And then, walking off knowing you had a great run at championships.

Day 9 - Biggest Marching Disappointment

I'm being really repetitive, but 2010 TIA finals after announcing the scores sucked. Also, coming to Maryland and realizing college band wasn't what I'd hoped, and championships in outdoor my freshman year. I thought we might have pulled off a Cinderella story and jumped up a few rankings...nope. (Then again, watching the video of that show, I see why we didn't score so high.)

Day 10 - Greatest Marching Achievement

Either finishing higher than last place in Mirage '08 in Open class with a line that was at least 60% noobs (including me), or making Chesapeake Percussion at all. Yeah it's a small line and only six people went out for bass, but man, these guys have CHOPS. I'm still trying to convince myself that I belong.

Day 11 - Favorite Marching Tradition

Maryland drumline: everyone gets a nickname. And of course there are others.

Day 12 - A Note To Your Director(s)

Dr. Sparks: Don't bother blowing smoke. You know there's a lot that could be done to improve this band. Make it happen.

Mr. Straka: You probably figured this out, but we disagree on almost everything when it comes to running a marching band. Here's to hoping Souderton keeps funding you guys long enough to give the band time to turn the corner and become elite.

Cameron: Your staff includes some of the craziest people I've ever met, but I've never been more excited to march a show in my life.

Day 13 - A Note To Your Section Leader

Winger: Thank God you told me about Peake...

Day 14 - Design Your Own Dream Show

This idea's been in my head for months. It'd probably work best as an indoor show.

Show name: Blade
Show concept: a look at the various uses and history of the sword.
Movement 1: Myth. Big fantasy-type music with someone in the line acting and discovering a sword of legend and fighting the forces of evil with it.
Movement 2: War. Really intense, fast-paced and dark music with a lot of violent body movements, lots of ensemble figures.
Movement 3: Honor. Ballad. Japanese-sounding, focus on the samurai's view that their sword housed their own soul. There might even be a fake hara-kiri in this, who knows? Ideally I wouldn't have the battery playing except maybe some bass drums on puffies.
Movement 4: Duel. The fastest movement of the bunch, and the lightest in mood. Two people would literally be having a swordfight on the floor, and the drill would move around them. And of course the fight would be in time with the music. At some point there may be a snare feature that ended with snare players stagefighting with their sticks...and then a big reprise of all four movements.

Not sure what the music would be, though. I might have a few bars of Sabre Dance in the duel movement just for kicks. "Clash on the Big Bridge" from the Final Fantasy XII score might make the cut for Duel, and maybe "Hold Fast Hope" by Thrice would work for War. "The Skeezix Dilemma Part 2" by Tourniquet might make an appearance too--the opening cello riff could work for part of Myth, and then it returns in double time at the end...just like the real song...

Day 15 - Your Statement To The World About Marching

Marching band, DCI, WGI. None of these are sports. They are something that is in my opinion far greater: an art. An art we can compete in. An art that offers the thrill of performing like no other. Any school that tries to deny its students the chance to march is being completely and utterly ridiculous. Everyone should have the opportunity to put on a challenging show and realize how fulfilling it is. I truly believe my time in marching band and drumline has made me a better person, and it can do the same to everyone.

Just don't call it a sport, okay?

a powerful moment

Well hello, all three of my readers.

Just thought I'd share this. Not sure why it hit me so hard.

I came home for my frustratingly short Thanksgiving break yesterday and spent the day with my old friends from church. Naturally, as there was a Thanksgiving service that night, we went to it. There happened to be a baptismal that day. I'd seen dozens of them before; I knew the drill: hear story about everything God had done, show appropriate shock at some of the more graphic stories, applaud after the baptism was over, repeat.

Last night was different. Baptisms always mean more when you know the person being baptized (duh). I knew only one girl of the dozen or so being baptized, and even so, only barely. She was a friend of my sister's a few years back (and, ironically, the sister of a friend), and I'd worked on the Arrowhead with her last year, only talking to her maybe once. But her story hit hard.

It wasn't one of the classic 'I was a junkie for twenty years before I found God'-type stories. It wasn't one of the cliche' 'I was raised in the church and I just want to let everyone know how much God means to me' either.

It was pretty simple. She was raised Catholic but was never satisfied by it. Her family stopped going to church, and she still felt empty. She started going to Calvary, got a Bible and read it, fell in love with Christ, and got baptized at Calvary with her family watching. Her testimony ended with a declaration of how sincere her love for Christ was and her hope that her family would find that same love.

This hit me hard. I can't say I can relate fully--I was brought up in the church and was introduced to Christ by my parents, and as far as I know they haven't given up yet. But I knew what it was like to live in a largely faithless environment. I go to a huge state university. Sincere Christians are few and far between, and I wondered how on Earth we were supposed to show Christ to other people when the very idea of one religion being any more "correct" than any others is repulsive. Heck, the idea of religion is repulsive to many that don't want to worry about anything more serious than finding a party for next Friday night. I guess I was feeling a little overwhelmed.

Yet this girl, a high school junior, showed me, a college freshman something powerful. Christ was still working. I can't imagine how awkward or weird it must have been to have one member of the family turn so wholeheartedly to Christ...or maybe it wasn't awkward for this girl at all. To have the kind of faith that pursues Christ so passionately...I kind of envy her.

I was so thankful that I came home in time to see her baptized, and for God's reminder that, as mewithoutYou puts it, 'there are places that aren't here.' There is more than this world, and this girl has her heart set on getting the best out of her life...and afterlife. What a breath of fresh air.

I applaud you, Maddie. Congratulations on taking this huge step.

Thank you, God, for letting me witness it.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all.

looking back

I'm always a sucker for 'what-if' scenarios. They run through my head all the time. I've spent years wondering what I could have done, knowing what I do now about the impact of my old choices.

Well, now, I find myself there again. I'd love to go back to those days April 23 and 25, 2010.

That day was the beginning of quite possibly the most emotionally taxing three months of my life. Those months did me a lot of good in the end. I'm glad I'm past them, and I'm glad for the lesson I learned.

But I wonder what could have happened if I had had just a bit better control. If I had said the right words. If, if, if.

Of course there's the constant possibility that it wouldn't have made a difference. But that's not as nearly as fun to ponder.

(In other news, TWO UPDATES IN TWO DAYS WHOA)

college. yeah.

Yes, I know I have another blog now. I'm still reserving this for my more artistic/philosophical/angsty posts. Because it seems one can always find a reason for angst. Or at least I can.

I hate uncertainty. Always have. I don't like things I can't predict. I hate thinking about the future--there's so much of it that I can't expect.

I know one thing for sure: I will not be content to spend 40 years working at a job I hate because the money's good. I want to find a job I love. I want to wake up morning not considering work an irritating chore to cross off the list, but something I love doing. There are a lot of things I love to do, and I want to spend my life doing one of those things.

The problem is, there are too many options. There isn't one defining thing that I love. I love to write. I love music. I love politics. The first two facts led me to pursue journalism, hoping to get a job writing for a music or even video game magazine. So I went to a school with a top-flight journalism program. Maryland has one of the best journalism schools in the world. But...it's all hard news here. I'm not sure how much I want to do that for a living. I have an internship with LiveMusicGuide.com where I write an album review and music news article per week. My employer thinks very highly of me. It's not a bad gig, really. But do I really want to be doing this all my life? (It might have something to do with the fact that I haven't reviewed any really great albums. But who knows? More uncertainty!) And do I have the strength to put up with all this hard news crap in the meantime?

So I've tossed around the ideas of changing majors (or adding one). Psychology and English keep coming up. Psych because I want to eradicate eating disorders, English because I love writing and reading and talking about books far too much. But it's crazy hard to get a job in English unless you're teaching, and I don't teach. And Psych...who knows if I'll like it?

That's the main question, isn't it? "Who knows if I'll like [any given career field]?" Right now, my plan is to keep the journalism major through my first semester of sophomore year. By that point, I'll have taken the notoriously brutal Journalism 201, in which journalism majors do work in quite literally every aspect of every field of journalism--print, broadcast, you name it. I feel like that class will show me whether I'm really cut out for this or not.

I was at a journalism career fair on Monday. An NPR worker named Corey Dade had a very inspiring speech. He said at one point, roughly, that if you're not REALLY into journalism, it's stupid to waste your time in the field. Well, I don't know how into it I am. But really, do I want to waste three semesters of college if I take JOUR201 and find out that I hate it?

Also, why do journalism majors get so much hate? No, it's not a math and science major. No, I'm not burdened by mounds of homework that has no practical relevance. But at least some acknowledgment that my major isn't a waste of time would be appreciated. I'm still not even sure what I'm doing in college. Forgive me for experimenting a bit.

Forgive me also for my ramblings...I'm sure this sounds incredibly petty and stupid. But if nothing else, I'm getting this off my chest.

why do I have to watch all this unfold again and again? why am I so helpless? why can't I do anything about it? why do I have to spend my life trying not to scream at the ridiculous injustice of it all? Crawl back to the hell that spawned you, ED, you demon.

The Altar: Character Profile: The Genius

Full Name: Unknown. Goes by varying titles, including "Master," "Omniscient One," "His Omniscience," "Overseer," or simply "Genius," among others.
Age: 483. After discovering the secret to biological immortality at the age of 40, he has not physically aged a year.
Birthday: September 3, 1976 (for the record, his birthday falling on this year was a happy coincidence)
Race: Caucasian, little else is known. Clearly European; most have assumed German blood.
Hair: Nearly bald--only a thin ring of white hair remains.
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 160 pounds. Little muscle.
He's rather pale. Suffers a bit from photophobia (sensitivity to light) and thus wears black, round sunglasses constantly. Rumors claim he may have albinism, but these have yet to be confirmed.

Occupation: Overseer of the Community of Elites, and Prophet of Xaheros to the Primitives. As Overseer, he has absolute dictatorial power over the Elites. Disobedience is extremely rare, but harsh measures are in place for those who do. The Elites generally revere him to the point of near-worship.
Relationship status: Single. However he is capable of bringing any female Elite to bed with him by way of decree. Most are quite happy to oblige.
Family: Reportedly none survived the War. His insane lackey, Amos, does not seem to be related to him. He does not discuss his family and is never asked about it.
Closest friends: The Genius prefers isolation. He is quite courteous to his Elites, especially given his position of absolute power, but he does not develop friendships with any of them.

Hobbies/interests: His thirst for knowledge is unmatched. Science is his true passion. His specialty is in biochemistry, but he is excellent in most other scientific fields. Rarely is he seen outside of his laboratory or scientific laboratory, except to check on the Community or to engage in his nightly *ahem* activities.

Why he blatantly lies to the Primitives about Xaheros is unknown. In fact, the motives behind most of his actions are unknown, except for his desire to increase the number of Elites.

we interrupt your regularly scheduled programming

What I've learned lately:

This world is full of pain. There isn't always an easy way out of the pain. Some pain might be impossible to escape or forget. Sometimes we can only distract ourselves from the pain.

Sometimes...those distractions are totally and utterly awesome, and totally worth it. It's distractions like these that get me through the pain, the real serious kind and the stupid teenager kind.

Thanks, distractions. Keep coming.

The Altar: Character Profile: Ralis

Full Name: Ralis Westen (RALL (as in rally)-iss WEST-en)
Age: 19
Birthday: July 11, 2440
Race: 40% white (English mostly), 40% Hispanic, 20% Native American
Hair: Jet-black, medium-length, relatively clean but unkempt.
Height: 6'
Weight: 183 pounds
His legs bear several scars of varying origins. No athletic training, but bears the prodigious natural athleticism of a hunter. Very dark skin--the Native American blood is abnormally prominent. Dark brown, very serious eyes. Natural facial expression appears thoughtful and somber, maybe a little angry. Smiles rarely; when he does, it brings calm on all those around him.

Occupation: hunter/gatherer for his village, found in central Pennsylvania.
Relationship status: Single. Has dated two girls.
Family: younger sister Sona (age 13), younger brother Amon (age 8). Mother: Rilia Smith Westen. Father died of radiation poisoning when Ralis was four.
Closest friends: Avon Thiron (AY-von THIR (th as in thick)-on) (male), age 19, fellow hunter-gatherer. Close friends since childhood.
Seraea Hyatha (ser-AY-uh hi-ATH-uh), age 18. Exceptionally beautiful, and Ralis's crush. (May be profiled later.)

Hobbies: Has a deep love of reading. Often plays simple sports with his friends.

Does not buy into the doctrine of Xaheros, but has no means to prove its falsehood. Hates the idea of ritual sacrifice. Longs to improve the wretched conditions of the Primitives and bring the world back to its antebellum state. Has a history of disrespecting authority; his back bears a few scars from whips for this reason.

The Altar: Character Profile: Joseph Zerra

This is my way of working on the novel.

Name: Joseph Nathaniel Zerra (pronounced ZEHR-a, rhymes with Sarah)
Age: 41
Birthday: October 11, 2418
Race: 90% white, 10% Hispanic
Hair: black, very thin, cut short, balding prematurely.
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 223 pounds, much of it lean muscle.
Wears notably round glasses, and often bears red marks on his face from lab goggles. Well-tanned skin. No known health conditions. Left-handed. Respectably athletic.

Occupation: Department of Primitive Studies, Head Field Scientist (observes Primitives and reports on their activities).
Relationship Status: Married. Wife's name: Andrea Alden Zerra. No children.
Family: No siblings. Father: Alexander Zerra. Mother: Rebecca Mollen Zerra.
Closest friends:

Hobbies: playing guitar (classically trained), listening to prewar electronica (Animal Collective, !!!, Passion Pit) and prog (The Mars Volta, Between the Buried and Me), attending meetings of the Elite Society of Thought (a philosophy group of sorts), playing lacrosse and basketball with fellow Elites.

He enjoys his work immensely and is fully devoted to the Elite cause of repopulating Earth with the best and brightest. However he cares more for the Primitives than many of his fellow Elites. He believes some of the Primitives have just as much potential as the Elites. However he is forced to keep these thoughts to himself to avoid the watchful eye of the Genius.

As he is a bit of a Renaissance man, he is fairly popular with the opposite sex; however has been faithful to his wife for all fourteen years of their marriage.

Another novel idea. Pun intended.

No seriously, I'm going to at least attempt to write this one. This isn't like my ridiculous 'write a novel that captures the teenage experience' idea, which I think I knew was over my head before I even finished the post explaining it.

This time my central theme is a bit simpler. I want to try and explore the feeling of helplessness, the horror of watching things unfold before one's eyes without any power to make things any better, no matter how much one wants to. Also, I have long found a strange, macabre beauty in the idea of human sacrifice--not as a punishment for prisoners, but in those that honestly think they are appeasing some higher power by having someone stab them or burn them. (This makes me sound really creepy. Sorry. I'm not a psycho, I swear.) So, why not combine the two ideas, you ask? And I answer: I did.

Here's the background behind where my would-be novel is heading. Names/dates subject to change.

---

It's 2459. During the years 2015-2017, there was the inevitable nuclear war that everyone had been fearing since the 50s. However there was another weapon that proved equally devastating--the EMP (electromagnetic pulse) bomb that had been secretly in development by several world powers. EMP bombs rendered useless all the electronic devices that had made modern life possible, in addition to most of the defenses against nuclear weapons. The United States was utterly devastated, as was Europe, Latin America, Asia, and most of South America. Northern Africa was hit hard by radiation, but most of the continent was able to prepare for the fallout thanks to a last-ditch United Nations effort to save at least a few humans. Eventually a few African terrorist groups came to the Americas in attempts to take over the continent but quickly realized that there was nothing valuable left anymore--only a few thousand people had survived, and they had resorted to primal tendencies, as food was short, and most of it was irradiated to dangerous levels.

In the year 2059, however, a strange individual began making appearances in regions of what was once the United States. He called himself simply the Genius. At his side was a strange, mentally unstable individual whom Genius named Amos. What happened during the Genius's appearances never changed. He stood silently in some high place, round sunglasses hiding his eyes, while Amos danced crazily and babbled frantically. Then he would walk to a water supply, pull out a Geiger counter that had somehow survived the war, and show that the water was unfit for human consumption. Then Amos would dance even more frantically, and the Genius would reveal a strange electronic instrument, touch it to the water, and then pull out a small glass from his backpack and drink the water. Then he would leave, leaving nothing behind but the Geiger counter.

As the Genius's appearances grew more frequent, some began to decipher the Prophet's babbling. They realized that he always said the same things--and every time, he seemed to be calling on the name of a deity. When enough people realized this, the Genius spoke for the first time to a crowd of many survivors. He said that the war was punishment from an angry god named Xaheros and began to preach the doctrine of this new god. In the wake of such destruction and agony all remnants of traditional religion had been lost--the few who held to their faith had been slaughtered by angry survivors. So a Aztec-like bloodthirsty, sacrifice-dependent god seemed totally reasonable to these desperate villagers. The Genius preached that Xaheros would continue to bring pain and misery on the survivors until he had been satisfied with virgin sacrifices. And immediately the survivors began a regular schedule of sacrificing young girls--most by fire.

The Genius, of course, knew every word he spoke was a lie. The Genius was, as his name implied, the possessor of an incredible scientific mind. During the war, he had secretly discovered the secret to biological immortality and a way to completely remove radioactive material from any substance, but seeing the brutality and violence around him, he deemed the world unfit to share in his discoveries--except for sixty of his similarly brilliant, like-minded companions. As the decades passed, his community grew, all sharing in his immortality and radioactive immunity. He gave them a new name--the Elites. Those who were not Elites were Primitives. The Elites had another gift as well--technology. The Genius knew the infrastructure of most common electronics, and he and his fellow Elites worked to slowly restore the world to its prewar condition. However, the Genius's love of science ensured that he could not leave the Primitives to themselves. They were not fit to share in his glory, certainly, but they must be observed--much could be learned from their activities.

By 2459, the Genius's community has expanded to about one thousand, all descendants of the original sixty.

Into this world are introduced the two protagonists. One is an Elite--Joseph Zerra, a third-generation Elite. He is sent to observe a Primitive village in eastern Pennsylvania. (No, I'm not bashing my hometown.) He is under orders to have absolutely no interaction with the Primitives--if he does, he will die.

The other protagonist is a boy of nineteen years of age named (either Ralis or Avron or something else, haven't decided yet). He has seen the pain of living in the postwar world, and he is extremely skeptical of the doctrine of Xaheros. Yet there is nothing for him to do--he will be executed as a heretic if he preaches against this god, and he's far from capable of leading any sort of rebellion.

And this, you loyal readers who've actually read this whole gargantuan post, is the setting for what I hope to make into a novel over some indeterminate amount of time. Tentative title--The Altar. More details will come with time, followed by (hopefully) the story itself, in bits and pieces.

more religious musings

Taken from John Steinbeck's East of Eden:

"Liza spoke sharply: "What my mother would mind is what I mind, and I'll tell you what I mind. You're never satisfied to let the Testament alone. You're forever picking at it and questioning it. You turn it over the way a 'coon turns over a wet rock, and it angers me."
"I'm just trying to understand it, Mother."
"What is there to understand? Just read it. There it is in black and white. Who wants you to understand it? If the Lord God wanted you to understand it, He'd have given you to understand or He'd have set it down different.""

Before I tear Liza apart, I must commend her on one thing: I would love to have that kind of absolute, unshakable faith in the Bible and in God Himself. Doubt sucks, especially when you hate uncertainties.

But unfortunately, I can't leave it at that. Steinbeck has just pinpointed what I find to be one of modern Christianity's greatest flaws. Why wouldn't you mull over the Scriptures, trying to understand them? It's divine truth written down in words--who said it would be easy to understand? There has to be a lot of thought that goes into processing it; otherwise Christianity would be a worthless checklist and the Bible would be little more than a textbook.

Christians, don't be afraid to think. Deep thought doesn't lead you away from God unless you choose it to. Scripture's true beauty often comes after you dig deep into its context and struggle with the contradictions until they are resolved. Why only read the surface of the Bible when so much more awaits you?

That's all I've got for now.

----------------
Now playing: !!! - Yadnus

the stereotypical graduation post

I didn't want this blog to turn into something like my old Xanga, but I think high school graduation merits some reflection.

Well, all of you that were at Souderton's graduation, I think we can all say...wow, what a trip. I'll recount my educational experience the best I can.

Elementary school: Ugh. I was loud, tactless, sheltered, brainy and arrogant. Terrible combination, which is probably why I had no friends. Let's not discuss those five years.

Middle school: Terrible. Still no friends, but now I didn't know anybody, either. By the end of seventh grade, things started to look up, and I met someone who would change my life forever.

Eighth grade: A year of great angst and great changes. I found Honors classes and finally began to accept myself for who I was, no longer deluded by dreams of being athletic (oh, that's so funny now!) I was a nerd and proud of it. I thrived under the increased challenge of my course load and loved many of the people teaching me. I started taking private lessons under Mr. Kline, who worked miracles in me as a player. However, I was ill-equipped to deal with my newfound emotional capacity. Yes, I had finally fallen head over heels for a girl, and that girl was not there for the taking, and I had no idea of what to do. So I was basically a big ol' pile of angst.

Ninth grade: Even more changes. Now it was time for marching band, where my pent-up intensity and focus were finally given an outlet, and I started to meet some of my best friends. And then in February, after a fresh batch of angst, I turned things around and began my first relationship...which was a resounding success early on.

Tenth grade: Now school gets serious. Honors Chem posed quite a challenge, but I survived and made the fateful decision of signing up for AP Chem. Cracks started appearing in the relationship, but I met another girl who would end up changing my life, though in an entirely different way. (How'd I meet her? I literally knew nobody in my lunch except Zac. I sat next to him and started talking to the girl across from me...the rest is history.) Marching band turned sour with a new director, but I found Mirage instead, and I loved it, never thinking I'd give it up. That summer, I went to Harvey Cedars and almost immediately became best friends with Carter, someone who seemed to be my slightly more energetic, more fashionable twin.

Eleventh grade: Oh boy. AP Chem started to affect every aspect of my life...how stupid is that?! The relationship briefly fell apart, and was forced back together by force of will. I spent almost all of my time at home doing Chem homework. I was forced to give up drumline just to stay sane. Jazz band did its best to substitute, but we never reached our potential. (Though it was a laugh riot all the way.) I started to deal with the incoming hugeness of college and not knowing what I wanted to do with my life. The relationship ended right after school. College visits took over my summer. One school happened to stand out...the University of Maryland. It was never topped.

Twelfth grade: Summer was...eventful. Crisis struck, and I struggled to deal with something that was way over my head. But when school started, I was...enjoying myself. I was free. I was a big bad senior. I knew the ropes. The school was new. Seniors had a whole new freshman class of underlings. I tried not to kill one of them for an entire marching band season, one that culminated with my best performance (and probably the band's) in years. I got into UM with a scholarship. I had my bits of angst, but they were minor. And by mid-February, I decided to try that relationship thing again, and for a little while, it was glorious. Everything seemed to suggest that it'd be a long, healthy, enjoyable relationship...

Then everything fell apart. Within a week, I discovered that three of the people closest to me had eating disorders--and one, as her blog will tell you, was in my family. One easily could have died, and another wasn't far behind. Two of them were put in a clinic to get over it--one for a month, one for six weeks. I was surrounded by misery, frustration and pain. I would frequently come home to see my parents talking and my mom in tears. I was utterly helpless, and I couldn't stand it.

On top of this, what should have been Mirage's best season ever ended with a baffling disappointment, relationship #2 ended (and I've been struggling with it ever since), and overall, I couldn't enjoy myself. I felt like I was throwing myself into distractions because I couldn't face reality without feeling pain. (True.) And you know what? It's still not over.

So...graduation. It's a great thing. I'm free, and I know it. I wish it wasn't tempered by all the tragedies of my senior year. But now that I've gotten the negatives out of the way, let's look at the positives.

I am so much happier with the person I've become than with the person I was. I'm starting to get a handle on things. I know myself a little bit better. I'm learning what I value and that it doesn't have to be the same as what anyone else's values (Politics.). But it can if I want to. (Religion).)

I've had some of the best teachers a guy could ask for. Spizz. Lozano. Tucker. McLaughlin. Gallagher. Ruth. Without those teachers (and more), there's no way I'd ever be where I am now.

I have some of the best friends I could ever ask for. Seriously. You put up with all my crap and still manage to make life fun for me. Wow. I can tell you guys everything, and you've helped me through this big old mess that was the last few months.

If the old proverb and Kanye are true, that that (if you're Kanye, add two more "that"s) don't kill me can only make me stronger, which means I should be a whole lot stronger when this is over.

I have so much to be thankful for, really. I shouldn't be so down all the time.

Those of you still at Souderton, learn from my mistakes. Don't let the world get you down. Persevere through the tragedy. Do what you can do to fix your problems and leave the rest up to God (or whatever deity you prefer, or whatever absence of deity you prefer). Strive for excellence--not just in academics but in life, in everything you do.

And stand for something. (If I had been valedictorian/salutatorian, I would have centered my speech on this idea. Though, as it stands, Joey's speech ruled.) Stand up. Do not be moved unless we're taking a route that we have not pursued.

And remember this, the chorus I based my entire college application essay on.

"With downcast eyes, there's more to living than being alive."

And then remember this.

"And we'll all float on okay, and we'll all float on alright."

And finally, remember this.

"Don't stop believin'."

Frustrating

A lot of Facebook surveys ask me what my pet peeve is. I have several, and some that transcend pet status into...what's above a pet peeve? A superpet? A pet irritation? Whatever.

--Stupidity. This is always my answer when people ask what my pet peeve is, and it needs clarification.
1. Outright ignorance. Rarely does this tick me off, because usually it's funny.
2. Stupidity that results from laziness. This is much more common, and one of the main reasons Digital Media is not my favorite class. (One of the other main reasons is Flash.)
3. People that think their coolness is directly proportional to their bad senses of humor (SEXUAL INNUENDOS ARE NOT ALWAYS FUNNY) or their downright obnoxiousness.
4. Ignorance that leads to stereotyping. This is mostly political. No, "liberal" is not synonymous with "godless," "socialist," "baby-killing," or "pansy." (Also, "socialist" is not synonymous with "evil"). Also, "Christian" is not synonymous with "idiotic" (though Christians have given people very many reasons to believe that this is not the case).

--Segregation by intelligence. Does anyone else find it weird that people refer to groups as "smart people" and "not smart people"? I don't really think I'm more intelligent than most people, and it's not hard to make the jump from "not smart" to "smart."

--Arguments that don't rely on anything like logic. If you ever say "yeah, but socialism is evil!" to me, I believe I've won the argument.

--Bad music that gets popular. I'm looking at you, CCM and mainstream pop.

--Musical stereotyping. Before you cry "hypocrite," let me say this: not ALL mainstream pop is bad, but many artists in that genre are. People think all rap is bad...those people don't know the Flobots or Immortal Technique. People think Christian metal shouldn't exist...they don't know Living Sacrifice or Becoming the Archetype. People think secular music is pure evil...they don't know Passenger or Sonata Arctica, to name two of millions.

--Watching a situation spiral out of control, and being forced to accept that I can do nothing to intervene.

--When things make total rational sense, but something irrational makes it painful, and the rational part doesn't console me.

--My own frustration. The fact that I'm upset sometimes frustrates me as much as or more than the thing that upset me originally. This is a vicious cycle.

----------------
Now playing: Showbread - Stabbing Art to Death

Grammar Nazis, this is for you.

I couldn't possibly come up with a blog post as good as this guy's, so, enjoy the fruits of someone else's labor.

http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/2bXk8E/hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/04/alot-is-better-than-you-at-everything.html

Hey, that quote idea was cool, so I took it.

First thought: does anyone else ever think about something stupid they said during the day and get frustrated about it? Not just stupid as in "wow, that was a really mean thing to say, I shouldn't have said it" but as in "that was just socially awkward"? Or is it just me?

Second, much longer thought: I'm going to try what Joey did and list a selection of my favorite quotes. I'll keep it to just song lyrics, because honestly I don't remember most great literary quotes, and I've got a lot of favorites.

"With downcast eyes, there's more to living than being alive"--"Alexithymia", Anberlin

I could quote almost every song this band's written. But this one is particularly notable. It's such a powerful reminder, and so true. I've looped it many times when my life has taken a turn for the worse.


"I wanna break every clock
The hands of time could never move again
We could stay in this moment (stay in this moment)
For the rest of our lives
Is it over now? Hey, is it over now?
I wanna be your last, first kiss
That you'll ever have"
--"Inevitable", Anberlin

I'm still looking for that kind of romance.


"Hands, like secrets, are the hardest thing to keep from you
Lines and phrases, like knives, your words can cut me through
Dismantle me down (repair)
You dismantle me, you dismantle me. "
--"Dismantle.Repair.", Anberlin

But usually my romantic efforts seem to end up more like this.

Tommy, you left behind
something that will mean everything right before you die.
What if you gained the whole world?
You've already lost four little souls from your life.
Widows and orphans aren't hard to find.
They're home missing daddy who's saving the world tonight.
Wish your drinking would hurry and kill you.
Sympathy's better than having to tell you the truth.

That you are the patron saint of lost causes.
All you are to them is now a lost cause.
All you are to them is now causes...

Patron Saint, are we all lost like you?
--"*(Fin)", Anberlin

The first stanza, I think, is one of the most powerful, chilling and honest verses ever written. And sometimes I feel like the aforementioned saint--not because I'm any more holy than anyone (by any means!), but because I seem to care more deeply about the lost and hopeless than anyone else...until I become one of them.

There's something moving in the shadows
There is that rumor of hope
When the spirit starts roaring
For so long we have but no longer will we cope
Love is personified
I'd rather die in love than stay alive numb
I'll still call it home
I'm still longing home

Where the sun never dies
Shine away my shadow
Where it's bright when I shut my eyes
I'll drink until I'm not thirsty
The sun never dies
Shine away my shadow
It's just waiting to rise
--"Where the Sun Never Dies", blindside

I fell in love with this band just when I started getting into rock (about fourth grade, maybe?), and this song only gets better with time. And that line in bold...wow.

I was brought up through the ashes
Like a phoenix birthing wings
And I will fight for my disasters
I will take the flight of kings
And if your life is ever torched
Or if you know the pain I sing
Then will you sing with me this chorus
And we will cut through people's hearts and free them
--"Flight of Kings", The Classic Crime

One of my personal anthems, right there.

"Oh, all the memories we had
Framed in our minds like photographs
Take a second, take a second
And make this last
Here where the future meets the past
I can never fall in love again"
--"All the Memories", The Classic Crime

I long for the day when I can say this honestly.

And I will wait for you to come again.
And I can't pretent like I'm confident.
And I can't pretend like it makes much sense when it doesn't.

I have heard that winter's cold will give way to summer's warmth
Oh no! Like salt in the snow,
I'm melted and left all alone on the side of the road.
--"Salt in the Snow", The Classic Crime

As often as people tell me that God is with me in my pain (and I do believe it), sometimes life just sucks, and I have no idea what's going on.

Love is a terrible art, it’s a hook in the heart
That can drag you on broken glass
And as you protest the shards in your flesh
The hook tears out your chest until you’re just a broken mess

Love is a beautiful thing, she can make your heart sing
When you’re walking on broken glass
She will open your eyes, make your heart feel alive
Point you toward the sunrise
Help you leave all this broken mess behind

--"Broken Mess", The Classic Crime

So true.

"Go on, believe, if it turns you on.
Take what you need ‘til your body’s numb.
Prostitution is revolution.
You can hate me after you pay me.
My submission is your addiction.
So just get out while you can."
--"Prostitution is the World's Oldest Profession (And I, Dear Madame, Am a Professional)", Cobra Starship

Oh come on. IT'S FUNNY.

In this sinless city, we wear callouses on our hands.
From empty, vain hand-shaking, we see the guilt has left again.
And all will fall, with or without our good will.
So we fool them all, who pray for those who never will.
And we both let go.

Never been much for pity. Never been much for wishing them well.
But I can’t help but sever the ties they tied so tight, so well.
And on one side they’re holding on to what we were.
And here we are, holding the hands that we severed.
And we both let go.

The fire burns like cancer. The scarring lasts forever.
We all play tricks on fools that see us as their sinless answer.
--"Sinless City", Dead Poetic

Thought-provoking, no?

http://www.lyricsmania.com/vices_lyrics_dead_poetic.html

The whole song is a lyrical masterpiece. I'm not taking the space to quote ALL of it.

Everyone's saying that they've got the answers, but hope is deceiving and spreads like a cancer.
--"Miss Behavin'", Emery

A bleak but true thought.


"Stand up
We shall not be moved
Except by a child with no socks and shoes
If you've got more to give then you've got to prove
Put your hands up and I'll copy you
Stand up we shall not be moved
Except by a woman dying from the loss of food
If you've got more to give then you've got to prove
Put your hands up and I'll copy you"
--"Stand Up", Flobots

Self-explanatory.

"Don't let apathy police the populace
We will march across
Those stereotypes that were marked for us
The answer's obvious
We switch the consonants and
Change the sword to words and lift continents"
Also self-explanatory. And awesome. And totally necessary in today's world.

Jump when they tell us that they wanna see jumping
F*ck that, I wanna see some fists pumping
List something, take back what's yours
Say something that you know they might attack you for
'Cause I'm sick of being treated like I had before
Like it's stupid standing for what I'm standing for
Like this war's really just a different brand of war
Like it doesn't cater to rich and abandon poor
--"Hands Held High", Linkin Park

I'm a teenager; I'm obligated by law to quote Linkin Park at least once. No, seriously. This is one of the best anti-war songs I've heard.

on a cold December, just after dusk
as the sun bids its cordial goodbyes,
we’ll be split to pieces like an apple seed husk
to reveal the tree that’s been hidden inside
which sapling called in a tattered sarong
as the seeds from the Shepherd’s Purse fell,
broke the news to Mom,
we found a better Mom we call ‘God,’
which she took quite well
singing, what a beautiful God there must be!
--"Timothy Hay", mewithoutYou

I could analyze this band's lyrics for hours. But, long story short, as far as songs that are explicitly about worshiping God go, this is brilliant.

"I like songs about drifters - books about the same.
They both seem to make me feel a little less insane.
Walked on off to another spot.
I still haven't gotten anywhere that I want.
Did I want love? Did I need to know?
Why does it always feel like I'm caught in an undertow?"
--"The World at Large", Modest Mouse

Oh, Modest Mouse, why must you be so cynical? And why must I spend so much of my life agreeing with this song?

"I backed my car into a cop car the other day
Well he just drove off sometimes life's ok
I ran my mouth off a bit too much oh what did I say?
Well you just laughed it off it was all ok

And we'll all float on okay
And we'll all float on okay
And we'll all float on okay
And we'll all float on any way well"
--"Float On", Modest Mouse

Is it weird that I also spend a lot of my life agreeing with this song?

"Now so many wonder why it is
So much has gone awry in all of this
And being makes you sigh that you exist
But you can't escape this
Seemingly undeserved is your lot
But generations past and you forgot
We chose to eat our fill and fell to naught
This pain is here reminding us to turn and leave
To come back home"
--"Sad Machines", Project 86

Also known as, my answer to the classic problem of pain.

"If you can amputate my heart
Then I will learn to smile and then
You can replace me with yourself
And I'll become the model citizen
And I will tell them all
That I had this breakthrough surgery
They give you a pill
They remove your heart
And replace it with a battery"
--"Soma", Project 86

Hey look, a Brave New World reference! Also, isn't that what society wants of us sometimes?


"I'm just a stranger here, despite your everything
I'm not attached to your world of disease
Like father always said, and I can only agree
Son they will hate you because they always hated me
And even though I feel alone
I know that I could never be

If it's a choice between this veil of ecstasy
And all the lonely suffering of seeing this so clearly
If I've said it once I'll say it twice I'll say it for all eternity
I'll find all the comfort that I need inside this bleeding
And even though I feel alone
You know that I could never be...

Together we are so, so ugly with rejection
But to our, our eyes we, we're the ones shimmering
I've unplugged the wires from your spine
At first you'll be afraid
But we will be so content
And we will live again."
--"Safe Haven", Project 86

Another brilliant, bold statement of faith...and that last stanza is so powerful.

"So forever now we'll find
Our peace inside this
We'll find our solace in your silence
And though I once desired your twisted sense of fame
I know, I know that in myself I'm nothing
Nothing, nothing, nothing but the words of the "meaningless"...
--"Solace", Project 86

Ever wonder where I got the name of this blog from? There you go.

"Son, I'm sorry for this world,
And all the awful things she'll do to you.
If you only knew what you'd endure before you were born,
I haven't got a single doubt,
You would have not come out,
And I would have known it was for the better.
You'll be raped of any evidence
Of ever owning any innocence.
This culture's a vulture,
And you're prime candidate for prey.
I've learned that I will lose all that I've ever loved one day,
But I never thought I'd ever have to watch it all go,
Or wish it all away.

I know you'll grow,
But I wish I knew you'd stay small if I said so.
Please just don't grow (2x)
Just stay small, stay small."
--"Stay Small", The Receiving End of Sirens

I've never understood why these lyrics resonate so powerfully with me. By the way, GO GET THIS BAND'S MUSIC. "Underrated" doesn't begin to describe it.

"I don't ask for much
Truth be told I'd settle
for a life less frightening, a life less frightening"
--"Life Less Frightening", Rise Against

I must confess I feel this way too often.

and I can't tell if you're laughing
between each smile there's a tear in your eye
there's a train leaving town in an hour
it's not waiting for you, and neither am I
--"Paper Wings", Rise Against

And this way, too.

"So tell me now
If this ain't love then how do we get out?
Because I don't know
That's when she said I don't hate you boy
I just want to save you while there's still something left to save
That's when I told her I love you girl
But I'm not the answer for the questions that you still have"
--"Savior", Rise Against

Oh, I can relate.

"I see the parts but not the whole
I study saints and scholars both
No perfect plan unfurls
Do I trust my heart or just my mind
Why is truth so hard to find in this world
Yeah in this world

'Cause I am due for a miracle
I'm waiting for a sign
I'll stare straight into the sun
And I won't close my eyes
Till I understand or go blind

I know that there's a point I've missed
A shrine or stone I haven't kissed
A scar that never graced my wrist
A mirror that hasn't met my fist..."
--"Stare at the Sun", Thrice

Another song I'd loop on bad days.

"We set sail with no fixed star in sight
We drive by Braille and candle light

We're building towers with no foundation.
We're stacking stone on stone, whatever it takes
Mix our mortar with bones.
True progress means matching the world to
The vision in our heads
We always change the vision instead."
--"Circles", Thrice

I've quoted this before, and it's still full of deep thoughts.

And that should do it. I imagine this will get a lot of "tl;dr"'s, but hey, that's life.

Injustice

A handful of girls, none of whom I know, had to leave the Renfrew Center, a clinic for people with eating disorders, way early. Not because they needed more advanced treatment. Not because they made astounding progress. Not because of a huge family emergency.

They left because their families couldn't afford it. Why is that? Because the health insurance companies won't cover them once any progress towards physical health has been made.

Let me rephrase that in caps lock to simulate how I would say this aloud, which would ideally be shouted into a bullhorn plugged into every amp Metallica owns.

HEALTH INSURANCE COMPANIES WON'T HELP GIRLS WITH ANOREXIA AND BULIMIA TO GET WHAT THEY NEED TO TREAT THEIR CONDITIONS ONCE THEY'VE "MADE PROGRESS."

The sheer greed of this astounds and infuriates me. Remind me to put that in the top 5 things I need to change in this world once I take it over.

Also, more personally: I'm dealing with the burden of having two of the people I love most in the Renfrew Center. Do not EVER tell me you "need more attention," especially if you've paid basically no attention to me all my life.

----------------
Now playing: Rise Against - Survive

Two of my lyrical musings.

Wow, I'm suddenly posting a lot.

I haven't really sat down and made what I'd consider a complete set of song lyrics. But here are some of the ideas bouncing around in my head.

(This one is probably a result of me listening to Rise Against way too much. I'm even borrowing the rhythm from their song "Entertainment.")

Send me all your sons and daughters like so many sheep to slaughter
In camouflage so you won’t see them die
Look into the depths of their eyes, and you’ll find that which once was white
Has been painted red by all my lies

I am the god of war; I soak my altar in the blood
Of soldiers blinded by my lies of love
Their comrades call them patriots; I call them bloody fools
War’s a game I play and never lose.

This is one I think I need to sit and complete...

I never would have met you if there wasn’t a reason.
But, oh, God, forgive me, for I’m guilty of treason.
Hope is a drug, and I’m hopelessly addicted.
I tried to be objective, but to my dreams I’m subjected.

I’m a delusional idealist with his head in the clouds.
I’m a hypocrite, a deaf man begging to turn off the sound.
I’m a blind man stumbling in search of a lamppost.
I tell you to look upwards, but down here’s what I love most.

A question for you all.

(Some of you will know why I'm posting this.)

Are you in favor of removing the system of class rank (and determining valedictorian and salutatorian based on GPA) from high schools? Why or why not?

Please be honest; there's a chance I might interview you about your opinions. Thanks!

And so another chapter ends.

Teenagers deserve a GOOD book.

Remember when I said I was going to write poetry? Don't count on that any time soon. I've little patience to write that sort of thing aside from the songs/poetry that I'll keep very personal for some time. So let's go on a different path.

I hate The Catcher in the Rye. It is a terribly pretentious book. I dislike the stream-of-consciousness style it uses. It revolves around a boy who finds everything around him "phony," yet its style feels forced and fake.

But I will give the late JD Salinger credit for having the literary balls to take on the tremendously complicated task of writing a book about teenage life in a way that doesn't insult the intelligence of teenagers or the reader.

Teenage life is a topic most often left to Young Adult Fiction shelves in public libraries, filled with series most often read by adolescent girls who get addicted to them for a few months and them forget them entirely (at least, that's how my sister does it). The books are cheesy, heavy-handed sermons preaching truths that have been drilled into our heads since the dawn of time, and the plots are simplistic and predictable (as Stephanie Meyers has proven, not even vampires and werewolves can keep a teenage romance from a ridiculously cliched ending).

Yet teenage life, as I can attest, is an absurdly complicated stage of life. So much hides beneath the stereotypes. Nobody falls under one label perfectly. Nobody is an archetype. We are weird, emotionally charged, complex individuals facing the greatest questions of life with are shining paragons of a hopeful future; at our worst we find all manner of ways to mutilate and destroy ourselves. We live the life of the old Romantics, only somewhat hindered by our relative youth. We're ambitious but forced to serve beneath those we find incompetent, yet, to quote an excellent song, "With answers for the world, the ambiguity shows." (100 points to whomever identifies the song.) We're scatterbrained (as that last parenthetical shows), witty, progressive, technophilic, satiric, perspicacious (this is easily my new favorite word) revolutionaries lost in a world that's as confused by us as we are confused by it.

So why the heck doesn't anyone try to write any "capital-l Literature," as Mr. McLaughlin calls it, about adolescence? I know we have our own stories of ideal teenage literature, but let's be honest--we weren't trying to write anything artistically huge. And adults really can't write about this experience after having gone through it; Salinger tried, and I think he oversimplified.

No, I think the teenage years are a topic best left to those in the middle of them. To that end, I'm very strongly considering carving time out of the summer/free time (whenever I end up getting it) to write a novel that does justice to the teenage experience. I know nothing of plot; I only know that it would have to be first-person, but from several different perspectives.

Here I pose a question to you, all three of you that read this.

If one was to write such a novel, what would have to be a part of it? What are the essential parts of teenager-dom that would NEED to be mentioned? What makes the 21st-century teenager who he/she is, as opposed to Salinger's 1950s teen?

I still hear "Mirage!" echoing through the halls.

(I must ask you not to read if you are not somehow affiliated with Mirage Indoor Drumline. It won't make sense to you anyway.)

I can say pretty safely that I don't think we saw that coming.

I'm going to be brutally honest here: hearing "In 10th place, with a score of 86.blahblah, Souderton" sucks. It just sucks. You can hear all the speeches about how you won't remember the scores and how it's all opinion and it will still suck. As I've said before, I'm a VERY competitive person. I was furious when I heard that. I wondered what could have possibly gone wrong. I was waiting for the judges to say there was a tabulator error that had shortchanged us about seven points. Obviously they didn't, but they made the equally moronic mistake of not understanding what just hit them.

I know the scores suck. I know saying 'scores don't matter' is the oldest cliche' in the book. But honestly, Mirage, we know we dominated on that floor. We know (and apparently, a whole lot of other people know) we deserved better than we got.

We had a monster of a show. That's the best show I've ever been a part of, indoor or outdoor. I lost track of all the high fives and screams once we got off the floor. We know we rocked that place. The audience knew it. Every line that saw us knew it.

The only people that didn't just happened to have green shirts and tape recorders.

My response to that?

"Dear TIA,

Suck it.

Sincerely, Mike Denison, a proud bass 5 for the Souderton Mirage Indoor Drumline, a drumline that came to Wildwood and dominated, a drumline that got a sucky score but knows it deserved better, a drumline that's pissed about it but won't forget everything else that went down this season, a drumline that will not let your inability to appreciate our domination get us down."

(I really want to send this to TIA, minus the part that reveals that I'm from Souderton, just so the rest of you don't get in trouble.)

Honestly, guys, remember that feeling when you came off the floor. Yes, it's so cliche', and yes, a higher score would have been nice.

But I am honored to call myself a member of this organization. For all my complaints, I'm proud to be your bass 5. I'll be shouting "Bell!" whenever I hear one ring four times for years to come. I'm incredibly sorry to see it all go, but I'm so excited to see what you non-seniors will throw down next year. And for my fellow seniors...good work, ladies and gentlemen.

Alyssa, Laura, Dan, Booda...I can't imagine a better line to work with and be a part of. You're all awesome.

Hats off to you, Keith and Brian, in particular, for dominating for four straight years as leaders of this great organization.

The scores will not keep us down. Don't give the judges that victory.

We did the only thing we know how to do.

We dominated.

Murphy's Law.

It's true. (At least, it proves itself quite true in very short bursts, and then lies dormant for a while. Right now, it is not dormant in the slightest.)

I really don't have anything profound to say. I'm just waiting for my Digital Media homework to get off its digital rear end and upload.

The next two weeks were already going to be stressful. Good ol' Murphy. You really did it this time.

Are you pondering what I'm pondering?

Funny how when I most want to write, I have the least amount of time to do so. I should be studying for Euro or Calc now. But here I go anyway with a brief update.

--I really want to try my hand at poetry. AP Lit got me in that frame of mind. I'm not sure how this is going to work. I'm fairly certain that my writing style is best suited to essays. But I really don't think the essay will be a valid form of writing for much longer. (Oh wait. Blogs are just collections of essays. Darn it!) Anyway...there might be a sudden outburst of creativity up here when I have more time. Please, criticize to your heart's content. Whatever I write, I want it to be great, no matter how many drafts it takes to get there.

--I love Joey's "collection of quotes" post and am anxious to try my hand at it (I know, I'm not original). Again, that's rather time-consuming, or I'd have done it already.

--Here's a random philosophical musing for you.

Life does not get worse or better. We simply open our eyes and behold either the beauty or the flaws of the world and respond as our moods dictate.

Thoughts?

Jaded

I wonder how that word got its meaning. Jade is a pretty precious stone. It looks really cool (though I don't think Americans think that as much as the Chinese did). I have no idea how it became involved in a synonym for apathetic. But let's do what I always do and start with good ol' Webster (or his website).

"Jaded: adjective. made dull, apathetic, or cynical by experience or by surfeit"

We all are jaded in some way (at least, once we get past the age of five). We've realized that life has its downsides, and we can see some of them coming. By the time we're in high school, we can find them anywhere. We know the teacher's assigning homework just to keep us busy, not because they want us to learn anything (though AP teachers are less prone to this). We know our favorite reality shows are staged, our favorite athletes aren't the gods we make them, we know people will let us down. But sometimes we can swallow our rational, well-founded beliefs and just enjoy what's happening. American Idol can be entertaining, even if the winner is predetermined (jury's out on that one. If not, America, you have no taste in music--how did Adam Lambert NOT win?!). Tiger Woods likes having sex, Barry Bonds broke the rules, and every NBA star has at least one sex scandal to his name--does that diminish the fact that they dominate in their respective fields? Does that keep us from staying close to people?

Well, being jaded can't overcome one thing: high school anti-drug assemblies.

And for this most recent one, there's no excuse...for the presenter and the audience.

In my classmates' defense: that guy sounded idiotic. Apparently marijuana's defense mechanism is sending Mack trucks to run over Bambi, and your brains are immune to the effects of alcohol and cocaine once you hit 21 years of age.

In his defense: How said is it that people were laughing during his speech? Not necessarily those of us that found his logic hilariously bad (because it was, and I was laughing too), but that other people laughed and cheered at the prospect of legalized marijuana...and we were totally not surprised?

We surround ourselves with people ruining their lives in a million different ways. (Emily and Zac already covered two of them, so I'm focusing on this one.) And we don't care. We expect it. We look at people and lump them in the "stoner" category: glazed-over eyes, greasy hair, bad acne, short attention span...heck, I stereotype when I hear a certain kind of voice. We can spot a stoner a mile away. And we accept it. It's almost like an ethnicity--they're not bad, just different.

Only you can't die of being black or white or Asian or anything else. You can't change your ethnicity. There aren't interventions staged to change one's ethnicity (at least, I sincerely hope not). Drugs? Different story.

Okay, we can only do so much as high school students with no training in counseling. But at least we can show that we know that drugs are all around us, and we do not approve.

The words of anti-drug assemblies are falling on two different sets of deaf ears: those who are already committed to living drug-free, and those who are already addicted and won't be swayed by a few stupid Bambi references and neurological jargon.

Maybe some of the second group would be swayed if the first group gave a crap.

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Now playing: The Classic Crime - Vagabonds

The obligatory 'time flies' post from a senior in high school.

I promise, this won't be as controversial as the last one. (By the way, I had another comment ready, but blogspot 'couldn't process my request,' which means it was too long, so it was promptly deleted. I spent ten minutes typing it. Bah.)

So, it's April now. I'm in drumline again, which means April feels like it's about three days long. At the end of this month I will be in a bus with at least 26 or so other musicians and a few staff members, on our way to Wildwood, where we will channel months of blood and sweat (not so much tears) into kicking arse and taking names as only a drumline can.

After that, it's AP Exam time. Three days of my life will be consumed by taking grueling tests, and all the other days will be used to study for said tests. And then it's June, and my time in high school is effectively done.

Holy crap.

All these years of my childhood trying to imagine what high school would be like...and now I'm almost done.

I'll have spent four years in marching band, 3 in some sort of jazz band, two in drumline, one on The Arrowhead.

Time well spent, indeed.

In the meantime, I'm really looking forward to Wildwood this year. We absolutely have the potential to do way better than Souderton's done in years. This show is freaking awesome. I remember how championships felt as a sophomore; the adrenaline was ridiculous. I can't imagine how much fun this is going to be.

Except then as soon as it's over, there's not a whole lot of high school left.

Don't worry about me, I'm rambling.

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Now playing: Foo Fighters - Everlong

To every person who hates Christians for any reason,

On behalf of my fellow believers, I would like to apologize for everything we've done wrong for the past two thousand years. We have done a fantastic job of making Christians look and become bigoted, ignorant, hypocritical, stupid and condemning. No Christian can honestly claim innocence in this regard (including myself).

More specifically: I apologize for being so uptight about our beliefs regarding the origin of the world. These stem from the refusal of many to understand that God may have created the earth in a way that agrees with science (though His role in the whole business, I am not willing to refute). We have made evolution seem like the words of Satan himself. In all honesty no Christian can claim with certainty how God made the universe, we can only claim that He did, and here we are. Our attempts to vilify those who offer theories as to how are pointless. I know I specifically am guilty of this ignorance--forgive me. I also have no intention of attacking those who believe God did create the world in seven literal days with no evolution whatsoever--I merely hope that those people do not use their beliefs as a reason to hate those who disagree.

I apologize for our actions towards those whose lifestyles and values conflict with our own. I believe that homosexuality is wrong, do not get me wrong. But I think it is just as wrong to publicly damn them, and it is just as wrong to create a website called godhatesfags.com in the name of God. I apologize for those who practice other religions (or none at all) whom we have vilified and slaughtered. We have been judgmental, condemning and arrogant--none of these are attributes of the Lord and Savior we claim to serve. I apologize for the disunity within even our own church. I can't blame anyone who calls Christians hypocritical--we want everyone to come to Christ, yet we can't agree on how we're supposed to do that, and in some cases we killed each other over these decisions!

I apologize for our political failures. So many Christians have made the Republican Party an extension of God. We've rejected liberal ideas as ungodly. Let me set the record straight: God is not a Republican, Democrat, Libertarian, Socialist, Communist, or fascist. To live and believe that He has any political preference is foolishness. (Certainly there are Christians who honestly have more conservative political preferences. I find no fault there, I would merely like to acknowledge that those who think left-wing ideas are somehow sinful because they are left-wing are in the wrong.)

To make a long post short, my fellow Christians and I have tacked on so many superfluous things to the Gospel. What began as a message of hope and freedom has become one synonymous with ignorance. Christianity deserves every stereotype it has been given. So I would like to take the opportunity to try to bring it back to basics.

I believe God made the world and everything in it...somehow.

I believe God gave man the choice to serve Him or the self, and man chose the latter, bringing sin into the world. I believe that blood must be shed to pay for these sins.

I believe God sent his Son, Jesus Christ, to live a perfect life and bear all the sins mankind had ever committed or will ever commit. I believe he died and rose again, defeating sin and death once and for all.

I believe that all it takes to enter heaven is to accept that the above is true. I also believe that I could never give this idea the explication it deserves.

I believe that true Christianity makes caring, charitable, kind, loving individuals. I do not believe that Christianity makes life perfect, but I do believe there's a certain peace in knowing a loving Father God is watching my back.

I do not believe that God will be standing outside the gates of heaven with a checklist, making sure all who enter are judgmental, ignorant and unloving, as the stereotypes have made Christians out to be.

Why am I writing this? Not because I'm the perfect Christian or because I have some delusion that I can undo our errors. I'm writing this to help non-Christians realize that the Christianity they rightfully hate is not Christianity at all.

I believe Christianity is both so much less and so much more than we have made it out to be.

--Mike.
(Yes, I know you know that I wrote this. But I started this like a letter, so I have to end it like one. Yes, I'm a dork.)
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Now playing: Project 86 - The Sanctuary Hum
(How appropriate! http://www.allthelyrics.com/song/1052861/)

Politics again.

How many times can I handle my own family members saying that a national healthcare system will destroy our country before I go insane?

So America was founded on the blood, sweat and tears of the individual? False. The founders were a bunch of guys who didn't want to pay taxes and maybe some beliefs in individual rights that many had preached before them.

Hard work should bring success, yes. (Obviously chance plays a role, but let's not get into that.) But that doesn't mean the government should be denied the right to lend a helping hand.

Frankly, I'd rather see a government that actively helps those who need it (and maybe those who don't deserve it) than one that insides on siding with the greedy misers that I see spouting off about the evils of healthcare.

There are plenty of intelligent arguments against the healthcare bill. But there is nothing sinful about a government helping out its people. Want to disagree? Then let's go back in time and see how you like the Great Depression without FDR's help.

Yeah, I'm kinda ticked off right now.

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Now playing: Styx - Blue Collar Man (Long Nights)

Sacrilege

Yesterday I went biking. The weather was just too good to pass it up.

I decided to break my normal routine of just doing laps around my neighborhood. I went straight out past the old high school and realized I wasn't far from my old church. So I biked around the parking lot for nostalgia's sake.

On my way home I saw three people; they could have been son, father and grandfather. The father was talking to the grandfather, and the kid was standing there. I couldn't discern his age--he could have been a very hefty thirteen-year-old or a slightly-bigger-than-normal fifteen-year old. He might have been playing basketball--there was one in his arms. But what I saw was a phone with a QWERTY keyboard. He was texting with both hands.

All around him spring was lighting up the sky, heralding winter's defeat. And I, the kid who spends the vast majority of his life indoors, was outside, engaging in an activity that I've loved for a good decade. (To be fair, I was listening to my iPod, and I would take occasional breaks to text Diana.)

There was something almost sacrilegious about this scene.

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Now playing: Styx - The Grand Illusion

One of those band-related posts.

Yes, I know some of you readers aren't in marching band...try to bear with me.

So today was one of those long days. Drumline from 7:15-4:45 or so. It was a pretty good show; first place, our score went up, and the judges had only good things to say about the basses. But it was the conversation afterwards that got me thinking.

I mentioned to Perry (our drumline director, for you uninformed souls) that I was going to the University of Maryland (with every passing day I feel more certain of that) and joining its 275-member marching band. And then he told me a story of a former Mirage (aka Souderton's drumline, for you uninformed) member who took everything in band really seriously. And he hated college band (oddly enough, at Syracuse, one of my top schools)--it was too lax, nobody bothered to learn warmups, etc. etc. I've heard that story before...I've just thought that I'd be able to adjust and appreciate college band for what it is--a good time with a bunch of kids playing really loud. There's no real alternative--I'm a sax player mostly, and drum corps (basically marching band on steroids--unofficially, "Major League Marching Band") don't accept woodwinds. And I don't have the chops (skills...gosh, people, LEARN MY MARCHING BAND LINGO) to play drums in corps...

Perry thinks otherwise. Yeah, I wouldn't be marching a major corps (for you band geeks, do I REALLY look like I could march for Phantom Regiment or Blue Devils? Yeah...no.) But I could be in a small corps.

That was a bit of a shock. I'm realizing that my life is just missing something without marching band or drumline, despite all the trials and tribulations that come with them. And if college band is really all that bad...

Part of the reason I want to go to Maryland so badly is for the band--I'd eliminate schools from my search solely because they lacked marching bands. But what if college marching band is really all that terrible? Could I really live without marching band? Doubt it.

Suddenly, marching corps is sounding like a better and better idea. And I've always liked playing drums more than sax anyway. Yeah, there's the money thing (it's EXPENSIVE), but honestly...band and drumline channel my focus and energy like nothing else in my life. And I'm a competitive person--it doesn't get much more competitive than drum corps. I know I can't cut it in the music industry, but performing music for a crowd is thrilling. So I'll consider marching a corps.

I never thought I'd see the day that I could seriously consider that.

Sorry for those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about.
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Now playing: Living Sacrifice - Nietzsche's Madness

Moments

So I was listening to Tourniquet on my way home from school today. (Shuffle is a great thing.) And a song came up I haven't listened to a year (according to my Last Played column in iTunes.) And it was totally awesome. Early in the song, I was remembering how cool the one part that came towards the end was. And when that moment hit, I was still as amazed as always.

See, I've held the belief for a while that music is all about moments--those split seconds where an earth-shattering revelation hits you (if the band has a really good lyricist) or every note just falls perfectly into place. So why not blog about it? These are some of the best moments I know to exist in music. We're not necessarily talking the best overall songs (though there is a loose correlation)--just the best parts, no more than ten seconds.

Tourniquet--The Skeezix Dilemma, Pt. 2 (The Improbable Testimony of the Pipsisewah
Yes, the title is obscenely wordy. (It's supposed to be an allegory for war between God and Satan...I think.) But the song is remarkably epic. It's one second short of ten minutes long, but you can't forget the beautiful, somber cello intro that starts it. Especially when at 7:43, that melody returns, this time soaring triumphantly on Aaron Guerra's guitar in double-time. I LOVE when bands incorporate previously used melodies like that, and in the context of the song, this is the best instance of that phenomenon.

Underoath--Too Bright to See, Too Loud to Hear
More than three minutes of ominous buildup and group chanting. Then it all cuts away but the chants and drums...then Aaron Gillespie wails "Still get us home!" and everything comes back in a maelstrom of musical perfection. It sends chills down my spine.

Anberlin--The Haunting
Again, about two minutes of acoustic buildup before the whole band erupts with one of the greatest stanzas Anberlin's ever created.

And Then There Were None--Reinventing Robert Cohn
Unlike any of the previous three bands, I can't consider ATTWN a personal favorite (though they certainly have potential). And unlike the previous three songs, this song is low on climactic drama--it's a dance track with some heavy guitars laid in. But when the singer's last repetition of "It just isn't there" fades away and your speakers nearly collapse from the following chorus, it's hard not to get drawn in.

Boston--Foreplay/Long Time
The acoustic guitar riff from the chorus is already catchy enough. And then they have to go and make it electric and throw the rest of the band in. Listen to that and try to convince me that Boston's not one of the best classic rock bands of all time.

The Classic Crime--The Beginning (A Simple Seed)
This song has TWO priceless moments. First: in the middle of an insanely catchy verse, Matt MacDonald pulls out a ridiculously corny but perfect line: "I've found the cure for my landlocked blues, it's coming home to you!" with just the right amount of passion. Then later he outdoes himself: after repeating "I let her go!" over and over, he fades away and lets a simple piano part take prominence in the midst of a raucous jam session. Awesome.

Dead Poetic--Glass in the Trees
I'm sure some of you know this. Brandon Rike laments his dead friend: "I took a vow to never forget you/ if you're still here then we'll wait for you to come back home!" Few singers can deliver that with such believable passion.

He is Legend--Either They Decorated for Christmas Early or They're All Dead
This whole song is just about perfect--but I'm just going to highlight the bridge that comes in after the last somber verse. Kicking the tempo up to double-time gets me EVERY TIME.

So on and so forth. I just realized now that this list is almost too long to be effective. But anyway: if you don't know these songs, FIX THAT.

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Now playing: Flobots - Cracks In the Surface
via FoxyTunes
(YES I HAVE IT.)

Daylight savings time. Argh.

Daylight Savings Time. Why?

Is it really important that we have one more hour of sun? (Why is DST in effect in June when there's already a ridiculous amount of sun, and the night is the best part of the day?)

All I know is that it deprived me of an hour of sleep on a night where I could have used a lot more of it. Darn you, DST. (Also, darn you, irony. See my last post.)

I vote in favor of a system that constantly 'falls back' an hour every six months. That way, we are periodically rewarded with a glorious hour of sleep...without having to pay it back in the spring! And how cool would it be to wake up in the middle of the afternoon and come back from school and IT'S MIDNIGHT-ISH OUTSIDE...

I think our heads would explode. And scientists would flip out at all the lost time. But still. It'd be fantastic.

Happy Pi Day, all.

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Now playing: Gorillaz - Three Hearts, Seven Seas, Twelve Moons
via FoxyTunes

(Just got it from Carter. Not sure what I think about it yet. I also got Constellations by August Burns Red--FINALLY.)

The Evils of Coffee...and band names!

I hate coffee. It tastes like liquid dirt. (Yes, that would be mud.)

I also think that natural selection will have erased this trait of mine from existence in 100 years or less. (I know that's abnormally fast. I'm making a point.)

I probably SHOULD enjoy coffee. Well, I do enjoy coffee from Starbucks where there's more dairy products than cacao beans. But otherwise, it tastes so bad that I can't drink enough to let the caffeine do anything. This is a problem. I'm an AP student which means I've got another semester of late nights staring at an online Calc textbook written in a language that only vaguely resembles English. And college will, doubtless, bring at least four more years of this self-induced sleep deprivation.

Here I must confess: my definition of "sleep deprivation" is six hours or less. When I grew up, staying up late was never a big deal to me--I went to bed as soon as I was tired. Only in the past two years or so did that really start to change. (Well, I still go to bed when I'm tired...and when my Calc and Lit homework is done.)

So maybe I'm not as good as running on four hours of sleep as the rest of my peers. (Honestly, how do you DO that?!) But I find myself with a strange thought.

Sleep is a cruel master.

Think about it. It only exists for us when we do nothing else, and it's one of the best parts of a long day. But thinking about how much/little sleep you're going to get at the end of the day only frustrates and disappoints and makes sleep more elusive. The more you think about sleep, the less likely you are to fall asleep. And with each passing year I sleep less (even this past summer was filled with early rising to go to colleges).

So either natural selection will make it easier for us to sleep, or we'll be able to function on less...I feel like those who can use more of the day to get work done will earn more money and rise to the top in a 21st-century version of natural selection. (Or maybe the sleepers just won't get any food and die off. In that case, I'm really screwed. Also, I'm totally addicted to parenthetical statements. Sorry.)

Just some thoughts for you.

Here are some less serious thoughts. I've been keeping a running list of things I've said in everyday conversation or things that just popped into my head that I think would make great band names (not that I plan on starting a band or anything...it just seems cool.) So go ahead, comment away on the ones you like, or start your own list of what you'd potentially name a band. (By the way, these are my Top 10. The rejects included less serious names, like A Sudden Craving for Mutton. I have no idea how that came up in my head.)

1. This Night Surrounds Me (sounds kinda emo, but I like it a lot. Indirectly inspired by Emery's song "Dear Death, Part 1" which has the line "Esta' noche sera' mia" which translates to "This night will be mine," but 'sera'' sounds like 'surround'...it makes sense to me.

2. The Victory Sporadic (Inspired by another band named A Constant Sporadic...I'm jealous of how cool that name is.)

3. Silver Thunder (What I name all my Rock Band/ Guitar Hero bands.)

4. Constant Chapter (Origin unknown. It's right next to "Constant Crash" in my original list.)

5. The Chorus of Failure (What I used to label the sound of multiple people losing The Game at once.)

6. In Hopeless Protest (Not sure where I got that.)

7. Afterhand (Why is there 'beforehand' but no 'afterhand'?)

8. Red Dawn (One of the longest-running candidates for a band name, [yes, I've been making up imaginary bands in my head for years], up there with Graysong and Paranoia 5. Where that last one came from, I have no clue.)

9. Thoughtspace (Just a cool word.)

10. The Albatross Company (Sounds like an indie band, no?)

...Yeah, I'm really weird.



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Now playing: Passenger - Table For One
via FoxyTunes

this post is huge. sorry.

I'm giving up my grand dreams of only posting big epic thoughts. I'm in high school, darn it. I don't want this to turn into a petty emo-fest, but hey, I'm an adult really only because the law says so. And I think that's my problem--I've wished I was an adult for so long. I don't look back on childhood fondly. I've longed for independence and freedom and being surrounded by the 'mature.' Why? Because I hate immaturity...most of the time.

Ever since elementary school, I've hated the 'immature' kids. I thought I was so high and mighty because, at the risk of sounding arrogant, I was smarter than the vast majority of them. And then I came to Souderton and the problem only amplified itself. And then I found people that were smarter than me...and I finally started to enjoy school. But lately I've realized I've placed way too great a value on what is 'logical,' what is 'appropriate' for 'adults,' what fits the mold I've made for myself.

Dang. Why did no one stop me? I feel like I've missed out on a lot of happiness. Yes, the loudmouthed, cocky types still annoy me. But there's different sorts of immaturity, I think. Like most adjectives, there's a good and bad side to it. And being like a child has its perks, I think.

(Sorry. I'm prone to Montaigne-esque tangents.)

In other news...my goal of eliminating drama hasn't changed. And finding more people suffering emotionally only hurts me more. I know there are groups out there that work to help the suicidal and the clinically depressed--they're awesome. I wish I could do that. But why not cure the root problem--why can't there be an effort of a similar magnitude to give high school kids a proper perspective on life? Yes, life as a high school kid should be enjoyed, and you shouldn't force perspectives on yourself that aren't natural (see the previous rant!). But I hate to see people so hurt by the little things in life. I'm no psychologist, so I can't say that I'll make a living out of it. But maybe, just maybe, if I somehow get the resources to do it, I'll start that group. I'll take my efforts to save the world from teen angst to the next level...and find the people that can actually communicate my ideas without sounding like a jerk, because I get frustrated far too easily.

Last thought: the last time I looped one song on iTunes, I was writing my college application essay (which was about "Alexithymia" by Anberlin)...but I've listened to "Prayer of the Refugee" by Rise Against seven times as I wrote this post. There are four songs to which I'd give a perfect score if I was writing a review of the album (for those of you that don't know, www.epinions.com/user-beekd91 is me, and I get paid more when you read my reviews, I think...they don't say how the money works...anyway, I give each song in an album a score out of 100 at the end of each review). They are "Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey, "Either They Decorated for Christmas Early or They're All Dead" by He is Legend, "Viva la Vida" by Coldplay and "Solace" by Project 86 This song might be the fifth. You should go listen to it now.

(What's up with my layout? I can't see the cool gray graphic in the background...is it just me?)

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Now playing: Rise Against - Prayer of the Refugee
via FoxyTunes