Joy in the parentheses

People say that the past gets in the way of the present too much. That's probably true, but the future matters to me more. Perhaps this is because I'm young (a mere 21 years old; God willing I have more future ahead of me than past behind me). Right now the future is distracting me. I pray God for patience but I want joy now; without all the pain, anxiety, and heartache that comes with it. (My whole life up to now has been a parentheses; let's get to the good stuff already).

I've always been that way (is this a basic human trait, or am I special?). I'd love to learn piano without practicing or recitals; boy I hated those (If I had learned I would have been much better than you, by the way). I'm a lazy neat freak and an apathetic radical (my room's a mess and I haven't done a darn thing about the issues I care about). Wouldn't it be great if things just worked themselves out with no effort?

I think a lot of people have this "parentheses" view. It couldn't be more wrong. My life is a book and this is the good stuff. What's keeping me from having joy now? What, my singleness? My dependence on my parents for money? The pain in my back? Pain is transient (seriously, it's getting better), singleness is where God wants me right now, and God bless my parents. In the words of my little brother, life is glorious. Rejoice!

I make irrelevant comments because it's late.

Read somewhere between tonight and tomorrow morning:

The remaining cells die via apoptosis (programmed cell death).

Yeah, biology textbook. Point is this:

wouldn't Programmed Cell Death be the greatest name ever for a Techno Punk Rock Band?!

I know, right? Now you can return to what actually matters in your life.

I need to work up to this ...

So I haven't posted on Flabbergasted in so long I can hardly even be called a contributor. Yes, you say, I know, what gives? To which I would hem, haw, and give you much of what elsewhere is called nugarum about time and my lack thereof. In any case, I figured the best thing to give you in the short time I have until Natural History would be an obituary I wrote recently. For myself. For declamations. Things you should know about this particular item: it's not serious. Not even hardly. Also, look on YouTube for "Most Interesting Man in the World." These are some of the greatest commercials of all time. Period.

Kaleb A. Trotter: Jan 2 1990 – Sep. 25, 2080.

Kaleb Trotter, explorer, art critic, Presidential candidate, and wealthy eccentric, was found on his private yacht today off the coast of Tasmania, south of Australia. His wife found him lying in bed, his favorite Irish wolfhound lying at his feet. Doctors have been unable to determine the cause of death, and when his widow was asked if she believed it was a heart attack, she replied, “his heart wouldn’t nearly be foolish enough to attack him.”

It is unknown where Trotter acquired his fortune, but black market deals in ancient artifacts were suspected ever since his expedition into Ethiopia in the early 2040’s. Before 2020, Trotter was unheard of, growing up in relative obscurity in the southern part of the United States. He became a household name almost overnight after discovering the Maasacani, a primitive tribe living near the mouth of the Congo River in West Africa. Out of supplies and having lost his entire safari due to malaria, quicksand, and the previously unknown ratus africanus, the African Swamp Rat (a rodent of rather unusual size), Trotter reportedly happened upon a tyrannosaurus rex, most likely the last of its species, which he famously claimed to have killed, “with one disarming look and a broken pocket-knife.”

After returning to America, Trotter ran for President on the Independent ticket in 2036. Though caucuses were promising, he withdrew in September of 2035, allegedly because he couldn’t stand a third interview with the aging Bill O’Reilly. Said Trotter, “you’d think the man would realize that sometimes all it takes are roguish good looks.” When asked about what an Independent candidate thought of the two party system, Trotter immediately replied, “the after-party is the one you want to attend.”

Trotter turned his attention to art next, acquiring and donating hundreds of pieces of Ancient and Neoclassical art to museums in America. Most famously, he convinced the President of Greece, Alina Nicasopolis, to allow him to break the Acropolis down and send it to the British Museum, so that he “could see the completed artwork without having to go to Greece. I don’t prefer long plane rides.” When asked how he could possibly have effected this astounding event, Trotter said, “well, I didn’t the pocket-knife. Just the look.”

Trotter faded into relative obscurity afterwards, purchasing an island in the Caribbean, formerly one of the Bahamas. Once a year he hosted the world’s elite at a legendary private New Years Eve party. Said one attendee, “things got fuzzy after I jumped into the Jack Daniels fountain, but I distinctly remember Trotter commenting on how drunk I was. Things got very quiet, and then he laughed loudly and said, ‘so that’s how an awkward moment feels. I’ve always wondered.’”

Trotter’s family could not be reached for comment, although a nephew said that the millionaire was circumnavigating the globe to make sure he hadn’t missed anything of importance. 


I am just me

So. I start every post I write with "I . . . " followed by some action verb. Rob has indicated that this at times grates on his nerves, and asks me why I do it. Now I think this question answers itself, but I wanted to give a public defense of my habit because it says something about me and about how I blog. Here goes. 

Josh Gibbs' The Cedar Room influenced how I think about blogging more than I can really say (thus Rob's jab about copycat-etry). It was the first real blog I ever read, and I read it for nearly three years. It was cool, smart, well-written, and only rarely got above itself. Yet Josh always started his posts with the phrase "We are." At least, after he was married. Before that it was "I am." In a post I've long since lost track of, Josh talked about why he did this, and said that it reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing while typing away on the internets. 

I think this is very wise, and so I copied him. See, when I say "I ..." what I'm trying to do is make the reader realize that this is not some sort of encyclopedia, some vault of knowledge, some authority sitting in cyberspace. It's not even as trustworthy as Wikipedia isn't. It's just me, a very, very white freshman in college sitting in a two-bedroom apartment typing away just for the heck of it. My words are more often than not rash, foolish, and startlingly ill-informed. They're just that: my words.

Why is it "I" and not "We?" Well, like I said, when Josh used it it was because he got hitched, so I just avoided it cause that's not me. A friend of ours  already introduces us as "Rob and his partner Kaleb," so I get skittish around these sorts of things. And besides, if I make some absurd claim that Rob doesn't agree with, you can't expect him to go to the stake defending it. I've probably said or will say at some point that I believe that the death penalty should be used in America pretty much exactly like the Old Testament says it should be in Israel (yes, rebellious kids, witches, adulterers, and homosexuals all come under that). Rob doesn't agree with this, so I'd title the post "I call for blood" or something, because it's not "We call for blood." It's just little old me. But if this habit is indeed bugging everyone, I'll shut-up already and move on. What thinkest thee? 

Homonymity is not a choice: A response to Kaleb's response to my. . . whatever he called it

'Sup peoples?

Hear's what I think:

Some words are just dyeing to be misused. I think "their" has always wished that it could be demonstrative, and "there" can't shake the desire to be possessive. These words don't have a choice. After all, who would choose to have to endure all the stigma of being wrong all the time? And they have an excuse - if anybody asks, they were just at the wrong place at the wrong time.

I give these words a place to roam free, and be what they want to be. They need not be confined under the weight of "correct" English grammar. After all, what is correct grammar and word usage anyway? Just the arbitrary whims of thinking people who have the time to write dictionaries and style books. Forget what they say.

Whose with me?