It Doesn’t Show Signs Of Stopping

This is post #40 for bible belt babylon, so I’m going to do a rundown of the titles. This isn’t quite as exciting if you read my stuff on myspace or xanga, but here it is. It’s also an easy post for me to put together, and since I’m lazy and tired of late I’ll take this opportunity to look like I’ve accomplished something without actually doing it. Oh, and I’m getting a new shower. Work begins in approximately seven hours. And I think I’ve finished rewriting my paper. I’m going to look at it again in about eight hours.

I have also put together a Semi-Sad-Bastard Christmas Mix for 2005. Don’t be surprised if you find one in your stalking. I mean, stocking.

11/08/2005
The Television Tries To Scare Us, But We Belong
“Don’t Fight What You’ve Become” by Elk City

11/16/2005
Here's To What The Future Brings
“Better Things” by Dar Williams

11/18/2005
The Ink Is Dry, And So Am I. Is Any Feeling Worse?
“The Suicide Bombers” by The Sharp Things

11/21/2005
Radio Only Plays One Song, Plays It A Thousand Times At Once.
“Josh Studies” by The Harlem Shakes

11/23/2005
I'm Tense And Nervous, And I Can't Relax.
“Psycho Killer” by The Talking Heads

11/26/2005
I’m Not The Hero I Could Be, But I’m Not The Dog I Was
“Now They’ll Sleep” by Belly

11/28/2005
The News Comes Fiber Optic-Style, Hardly In The Nick Of Time.
“A Series Of Near Misses” by Coach Said Not To

11/30/2005
It's Gonna Be A Nice Day
“Nice Day” by The Salteens

12/02/2005
I Had Made Up My Mind That There Must Be A Higher Power
“Higher Power” by Jens Lekman

12/04/2005
Some Brains Just Work That Way, That's What Chemicals Can Do.
“Big Dipper” by Built to Spill

12/07/2005
The Madness That You Feel Will Soon Subside
“If I Ever Leave This World Alive” by Flogging Molly

12/08/2005
I'll Find My Soul As I Go Home
“Temptation” by New Order

12/09/2005
Like The Floodlight, Like The Sun's Rays, Like The Moonbeams
“Safe Place” by My Dad Is Dead

12/12/2005
Don't Worry About My Ego, It Ain't Gonna Burst
“Dead In The Water” by Supersuckers

12/13/2005
These Are The Dreams That Scars Are Made Of
“Opener” by 8mm

12/16/2005
Those Moments Slide Back My Way
“They Say Vision” by Res

12/15/2005
Letters and Sodas
“Fuck And Run” by Liz Phair

12/18/2005
The Odds Of Faith In The Face Of Doubt
“Camera One” By The Josh Joplin Group

12/20/2005
Seven Days At The Bow Of A Wobbly Boat
“Iron Woman” by Devin Davis

12/21/2005
It Doesn’t Show Signs Of Stopping
“Let It Snow” Magnet (I can’t remember how I found this one. Must be a Christmas miracle. Strangely creep-y-rotic for a Christmas song, though...)

[can’t stop/won’t stop at biblebeltbabylon.blogspot.com, xanga.com/moontos, and blog.myspace.com/moontos]

Seven Days At The Bow Of A Wobbly Boat

Normally, I try to tie in my theme to the title of the post, but not today. This one is just for me.

It’s snowing here in Norman again. It’s snowing pretty well. In fact, things are coming down nicely all over. Like my philosophy paper, for example. It’s a B/B+ paper, and I need an A- to make an A in the class, so I’m still working on it. Fortunately, I know what I need to do to turn it into an A- paper. I finally got my bike back up and running. Did I mention the cold? Yeah, great biking weather. But it won’t be snowing forever, and I’ll be able to get around like I used to. Also, I finally bought some black toner for my printer, so it’s working again. And now there’s a leak in my shower that is causing some wicked damage to the apartment below me. It seems that I’m going to have to have a new shower put in. Neat!

I can’t decide if I should go out and do laundry today or not. I kind of don’t want to get out. I kind of also know that I’m running out of clean clothes (okay, HAVE run out), and that I won’t be able to work until I get this taken care of. I also have the sneaking suspicion that I’ve run out of steam as far as working at home is concerned. I think I’ll print out my paper, go to the laundromat, do some laundry and edit my paper. Maybe I’ll go to Taco Bell later and get some lunch. Yeah. That’ll be fun.

[fun is available at biblebeltbabylon.blogspot.com, xanga.com/moontos, and blog.myspace.com/moontos]

The Odds Of Faith In The Face Of Doubt

A question of faith came up recently. It made me think, of course, of Ernest Hemingway.

I love his writing style, and what he managed to accomplish is fantastic. I can’t imagine that the themes he wrote about will ever be far from the hearts of men and women. Love, loss, fear, pain, insignificance... these are all part of the wild ride, and they won’t go away. But he was no hero. He was a drunk, so angry at the world and so in hate with himself that he finally ate a shotgun one afternoon while his wife was out shopping. Was he mentally ill? Some might argue that anyone who tops themselves off like that must be. You know that famous quote of Hemingway’s? “The world breaks us, and makes us stronger in the broken places.” Isn’t that a great quote? It is, but it’s not the actual quote, it’s just the way we remember it. The actual quote goes more like “The world breaks everyone and afterward many are stronger at the broken places.” Not quite as optimistic, is it? So maybe Hemingway wasn’t becoming stronger through all his decades of pain (Spanish Civil War, anyone?), and just couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe he just knew it would never be worth it to him to go on.

Now, I’m big on uncertainty. Who knows what’s over the next hill, right? Life is a series of hills, I suppose, and each day brings us a better view of where’s we’ve been and where we might be going. I can understand how a person might think that each day will simply be a more painful repetition of yesterday, but I can’t wrap my mind around wanting to give it all up. Maybe it’s a question of faith (in God, humanity, or even in yourself) that keeps people going.

Many years ago (not that many, since I’m not that old) I started a slow but steady tectonic drift away from the beliefs of my parents, and many of the values with which I was raised. Certain givens that I had grown up with became... less given. Blame the secular media, or our Godless public schools if you like (although I’m the product of Montessori and Catholic education), but as the world broke me down, little by little, I found that my beliefs didn’t become stronger at all. Eventually I was only left with uncertainty. I still believe in a world outside of my understanding. No, that’s not entirely true. I’m not sure if there is one or not, but since I can’t rule it out, I’m still open to the possibility. I hope there’s more to this world than what we see, but in the meantime, I’m living this life as if it’s all there is. Now, that sounds a bit hedonistic and, frankly, sociopathic, but it’s really not. If this world is all there is, then nothing is more important than what we do here and how we treat each other in this life. So, I try to give to others and take as little as possible. I try to leave people, places and things better than I found them. And that’s what I’ll keep doing, until I figure out a better way.

[get your uncertainty at biblebeltbabylon.blogspot.com, xanga.com/moontos, and blog.myspace.com/moontos]

Those Moments Slide Back My Way

I got some very good news yesterday. Very good news, indeed. In fact, yesterday was really a great day.

Somehow Ambassador Perkins managed to grade all of our finals and our final papers and had the grades ready for us yesterday. I can’t imagine how, considering the sheer volume of words that he had to deal with, but he did. Our TA, Ketty, e-mailed us to say the grades were ready yesterday. With great trepidation, I went to see how I did (remember, 25% of our grade was based on that paper I barely managed to squeeze out on Monday, so I was a bit scared). It turns out the trepidation was wholly unnecessary. “Excellent” was written at the top of my paper. “Excellent.” Do you have any idea how bad this is? The lesson I learned from all this is that, yes, procrastination and a devotion to the pressure of being a clutch player is an effective strategy for grad school. Yep, it turns out that planning, forethought, and all that stuff they try to teach you... is for suckers! So, yeah, I made an A on the paper, a B+ on the final, and an A overall. Now, I’m not saying that my way of doing things is not without its consequences. I was incredibly worried all weekend about that paper, and I was a caffeine-addled wreck on Sunday and Monday. And my apartment is really dirty again, because I haven’t had the time or emotional wherewithal in the last week or so to actually clean it.

Anyway, yesterday also brought that philosophy presentation, which went so well that I can’t believe I was actually worried about it. The professor and the rest of the students were very excited by my ideas and had helpful suggestions and questions for me. It was awesome. And Dr. Ellis told us that we had until Sunday evening, perhaps even Monday morning, to turn our papers in and still receive a grade, rather than an incomplete. In case you were wondering, an incomplete just sits on your transcript, in a completely nonjudgmental way, until you finish the class work or it becomes obvious to the teacher that you will never finish. So, even if I don’t get the paper in by Monday morning (like, if I wait until Tuesday or Wednesday), it won’t be counted late, which is great, because it will take a while to incorporate the ideas from last night.

Finally, yesterday ended with cereal and conversation with a really really great girl. She said it felt like college again, eating cereal at 11:00 at night with the guy she liked. I damn near melted into my bowl of silk and crispy rice. Honestly, it was the best part of my day.

[slide over to biblebeltbabylon.blogspot.com, xanga.com/moontos and blog.myspace.com/moontos]

Letters and Sodas

I’m happier right now than I have been in a really long time. Yeah, you read that right. I've still got a presentation tonight that I'm wicked unprepared for, and I've got my thesis hanging over my head, but I can't stop smiling. And I really can’t think of anything I’ve done to deserve this, either. It occurs to me that maybe that gulf between what we deserve and what we get is there for a reason. Well, for whatever reason, a really really great girl found me recently, out of the blue, and decided I was worth a shot. It almost seems that all the things I try to hide at first (my sick sense of humor, how creepy I can be, my near-fetishistic adoration of Ailuropoda melanoleuca) are the parts that attracted her to me in the first place. It’s all very new, and I really don’t want to jinx this, but to the casual observer, it looks like I found happiness by... being myself?

Strangely, I want to be the guy that deserves this happiness, and I want to be the guy that gives happiness back to her as good as he gets. It’s times like these that the lessons I’ve learned from all the mistakes I’ve made over the last 27 years will come in handy. Funny, but it’s also times like these when I wish I’d made more mistakes. Those of you that have been reading this over the last year have witnessed some of my mistakes (Phantom of the Opera, crossing against traffic...), and those of you who actually know me have seen some of the spectacular (romantic) screw-ups that I tried to keep to myself. So, you know that I’ve got a diverse body of knowledge to work from.

Now that I got all that out of the way, I return to my original point. I’m happy. I’m excited. I’m hopeful. Why? Well, at different points over the last 10 years or so, I’ve been every character from Liz Phair's “Fuck and Run” (once you remove the gender identification, it becomes a lot easier to identify). I’ve woken up alarmed, sad and ashamed over what I’ve done. Yeah, I’ve been that guy. I’ve been the guy that makes someone sad and ashamed just by being the wrong guy at the wrong place and time, and I’ve longed for something real and traditional. I think I'm becoming that guy that she sang about but never met, the one who brought letters and sodas. I'm trying to be that guy, at least.

I like being that guy.

[that guys blogs at biblebeltbabylon.blogspot.com, blog.myspace.com/moontos, and xanga.com/moontos]

These Are The Dreams That Scars Are Made Of

I’m putting together a paper this week comparing folk psychology to uses and gratifications theory. What fun. The thing about both F.P. and U&G is that they both assume that we, as individuals, have beliefs and desires, and that those two buttons are the reasons behind our actions.

See, F.P. is based upon the principle [L] (Why “L”? Arbitrary? Perhaps.) which holds that if any agent x (That’s a person, in case you were wondering... all you biochem kids remember people, right? We’re the big watery bags of chemicals you all might eventually help.) wants d (It can be any desire, let’s say a wants to kill a drifter) and x believes that a (How about asphyxiation?) is a means to attain d under the present circumstances, then x does a. Simple, right? Well, we’ve spent the entire semester in a 6000 level course discussing it, so no, apparently it isn’t that simple after all.

U&G, on the other hand, is an attempt to explain the way in which individuals use communications, among other resources in their environment, to satisfy their needs and to achieve their goals. Now that is simple. Concise, even. See? You don’t have to be long-winded in the social sciences, unless you’ve got a hard-on for hard sciences and feel some sort of inferiority complex when confronted with electrons and chemicals. I don’t know.

The key here, is that we are in charge of our actions. I’ve believed that since forever. Only, we’re not always that smart, and we do things that have results we don’t want. Like listening to an ex’s favorite band over and over after a breakup, or masochistically reliving a car accident every time you drive. That’s only gonna make a person sad, but sometimes we think we want to be sad, because in some weird way being sad will make us happy. There’s probably some psychiatric reason, but I’m not privy to it just now. I don’t know. I’m saying that a lot lately. It’s kind of liberating, and people expect less from me.

Leopold Ritter von Sacher-Masoch introduced masochism, and Aristotle wrote about catharsis. The former held that we do things to hurt ourselves because it brings us pleasure, while the latter described a need to purge feelings of pity and fear to bring about fulfillment and pleasure. It all gets back to pleasure, I guess. Maybe there is no action not motivated by some kind of desire for gratification. Even the guy who jumps on a grenade to save his friends is doing that because he wants to save his friends.

So the point is, that sometimes we do things that make us hurt, for whatever reason, and that’s too bad.

And I’m sorry for what, if any, pain I’ve added to the world.

[we’re bringing the pain at biblebeltbabylon.blogspot.com, xanga.com/moontos, and blog.myspace.com/moontos]

Don't Worry About My Ego, It Ain't Gonna Burst

Good news, everyone! I finished my nasty paper today. Althusser, Ideological State Apparatuses, international mass media. The only way it could have been more depressing is if I had repeatedly cited Robert Smith and Morrissey as sources. I had just turned it in, and I was about 10 seconds away from posting it on my blog(s). Then I got to thinking, what if someone stole it and plagiarized me? Well, the simple answer to that question is that I would be so flattered that I would simply end them. And I may be a vegan, but I’m pretty sure I’d go out for ice cream afterward.

So, you know, I’m not worried about plagiarism.

Then I got to thinking, I know some pretty smart people. A bunch of them read my weepy little blog(s). The average IQ and level of education that happens to stop by is... kinda freaky (sort of like I’m the Taylor character from Planet of the Apes, trying to convince the chimp scientists that I’m not mute and retarded). So that made me think, what if I left in some horrible logical error, or a string of typos? What if I accidentally thanked Hitler? I have it on good authority that that is a career-ending moment (unless you’re one of those precious little Prussian Blue girls. See kids, girls can be evil, too!). So, I’m not going to inflict my 5429 words upon you... unless you really want to read it, in which case we can schedule an intervention for you.

By the way, you want to know how I know it is 5429 words? Because I just did another spell check. Guess what! I misspelled something! Yeah, an author’s name in the bibliography. I have approximately 2.5 hours to print out another copy and turn that one in. We’ll see if it happens.

Yeah, it will. In the meantime, enjoy the abstract from my paper:

Rethinking Ideological State Apparatuses for the 21st Century
Abstract: The purpose of this paper is twofold. The first part of this paper will attempt to place Louis Althusser’s ideological state apparatuses into an international context. Althusser’s Communication Apparatus will be used for this discussion. Secondly, this paper will examine what, if any, attention should be paid to the Communication Apparatus in terms of foreign policy. It is the conclusion of this paper that Althusser’s theory is workable, and that the framework of the Communication Apparatus can be applied effectively to international relations. It is also the conclusion of this paper that the current system of transnational media conglomerates can be used to further the interests of a hegemonic power.


Kind of has a ring to it, don’t you think? I’ve got a warm fuzzy.

[get your warm fuzzies and cold slimies at biblebeltbabylon.blogspot.com; xanga.com/moontos; and blog.myspace.com/moontos]

Like The Floodlight, Like The Sun's Rays, Like The Moonbeams

About ten hours ago I took the last final I will take for my Master’s. If you remove one little apostrophe, that sentence turns quite strange. Anyway, this was one of the more demanding tests I’ve ever taken. In four years in college, two and half years in an M.B.A. program, and a year and a half in this program, this was the first final that I actually had to use the entire period to finish. I’ll find out soon if I embarrassed myself or not.

I’ve been mentally dead since then. Unfortunately for me, I had another class after the final. It’s too bad. I went to Othello’s with a bunch of the other students to watch them eat and drink. They’re good people, and I’ll miss having class with them. Not enough to take International Relations Theory, though. That’s a level of devotion of which I am not capable. It was nice, though, hanging out with them, brief as it may have been. It was also the first time I’d been to a bar in almost three weeks and the first time I’d been to Othello’s in quite a bit longer. It still felt like home, and the coffee was great (1 pint in about 8 minutes!).

As for my second class (7:00 to 10:00pm), I was so checked out that I could not even pretend to pay attention. Today was devoted to presentations of paper topics, and I spent the entire class coloring. Not like, “look how I expressed myself” kind of coloring, but filling in all the enclosed areas within the letters of the handouts the students passed out to us. You know what I mean, right? For instance, in the last sentence you would fill in the o’s, the spot in the a’s, the little divot in the e and the two tiny spots in the g. Yeah, I did one in pencil, and one in ink. Ink allowed me to work faster, but I did go outside the lines a couple of times and had no way to correct it. Unfortunately, the effort it took to stay so conscientiously within the lines was making my hand hurt. I wondered if that were some kind of metaphor, then quickly disregarded that thought as it distracted me from my coloring.

Maybe it is a metaphor. Maybe I’ve accomplished all I can by simply staying in my lines. Maybe it is time for me to let my ink spill out over the paper, perhaps in a fashion that could be described as “willy-nilly.” I’m not sure what that would entail, exactly, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it does not involve three-to-five years in a nice, cozy Ph.D. program somewhere. Nah, that’s just crazy talk.

While I mull that over, I can work on putting together my paper for Monday on Althusser’s ISAs and international media systems. It’s only twenty pages, and I’ve got the outline done. I actually find the topic exciting and I’m looking forward to the work. Just another of the many ways in which I am lame.

[I’m currently lame at biblebeltbabylon.blogspot.com, xanga.com/moontos, and on blog.myspace.com]

I'll Find My Soul As I Go Home

Okay, this is an extremely stupid post, considering I have a final in less than 5.5 hours that I still need to do some studying for, but I am in a slight crisis. Of all the crises I could be having right now, or even all the crises I have ever experienced, this may well be the stupidest. I can’t tell what my eye color is. I saw that “what is your eye color” test on Karolyn’s xanga and I really wish I had not. It made me realize that I don’t know what color my eyes are. All my life I’ve always just put “Hazel” down for eye color on any identity documents, because “why not?” I got to the point where I actually believed that I have hazel eyes. But that is not the case. Hazel eyes are reddish-brown or greenish-brown, and that ain’t me. I’ve got like, kind of blue-green with yellow. What the hell is that all about?

So, in order to pull myself out of this mess, I did what I always do when my identity is threatened. I turned to the Internet, and it has provided me with answers and affirmations. Yes, so I just found out what the hell is going on in my face. Apparently (thank you wikipedia.org!) I have blue-green eyes. I didn’t realize that was an actual eye color. So, does that mean I have to start correcting all my identity documents? Am I going to go to prison over this? I hope not.

Well, I’m going to study now. In 8 hours (or less) my final will be done with. Wish me luck, or at least don’t wish failure too strongly (Anthony, I’m talking to you). Peace out.

P.S.: These are blue-green eyes. Like looking in a mirror.


Here's some more information on

eye color

P.P.S.: I made a decision on Monday, thanks in large part to Dave, that I will write science fiction for the next year. Dave, I’m going to need some help “keepin’ it real.”

[read this simultaneously at xanga.com/moontos, biblebeltbabylon.blogspot.com and at myspace.com. Or not, that’s cool, too.]

The Madness That You Feel Will Soon Subside

It’s nice to finish. I don’t mean that in a dirty way, either. This time of year is, traditionally, when I finish things. For example, I have always ended any long term, as well as short term, relationships in the winter. Highlights include: two days before Christmas in 2000; middle of January 2002; right after finals, December 2002; day after Christmas 2004. Not a huge body count, certainly, but one does see patterns emerge. And I’m not cheap, ladies, if that’s what you’re thinking. I always give presents (usually pretty thoughtful ones) even though I know that things are over. And yes, I’ve always been the dumper, though not always without regrets and post-breakup hookups. I’ve gotten better about not doing that, though. Unimportant information. You can disregard.

Today, on the other hand, I ended something in a positive way. This morning we presented the findings from that study I’ve been working on. You know the one: some days I love it, some days I hate it, blah blah blah. Video conference with the Board of Governor’s from [institutional name redacted] and the dude who started Westwood One (if you’re in radio, that’s a neat deal). We told them what we did, what we found, and what it means. Turns out they’re doing what they’re supposed to be doing, and they’re doing it pretty well. Not so surprisingly, they didn’t exactly pick apart our methodology. People like good news, right? They’re already making plans to publicize the report. And I’ve been made aware of some upcoming studies that I may or may not be invited to participate in executing. Exciting stuff, right?

Even more exciting is that I am now fully caught up on Lost. Four episodes in a row last night. And they were so good! Unfortunately I will now have to wait until January (I think) before any more come out. On the other hand, I can re-watch the first part of the season and see if I missed anything. I usually do. There is a certain level of on-the-fly discussion and analysis the first time around, and it’s easy to miss subtle bits of dialog or brief flashes of images, but those discussions make watching the program so much more enjoyable.

Tonight will be substantially less enjoyable, as I will be preparing for a final in my PoliSci class. That test is scaring me a little bit. Okay, it's scaring me a lot. I’ve got plenty of material to use to prepare, but I find myself unable to start. It probably doesn’t help that I know my weekend will be consumed by a paper I have to turn in Monday for said PoliSci class. Then I have a presentation on the 15th and another paper due on the 16th for my other class. I’m not really prepared at all for any of it. But I will be, and soon it will be finished, one way or another. And finishing seems to be one thing I’m good at.

That's all, but you may want to go back and take note of the efficient transitions in this piece.

[read it in different colors at myspace.com and on xanga.com/moontos]

Some Brains Just Work That Way, That's What Chemicals Can Do.

Has anyone ever told you that you were passive-aggressive? Have they maybe hinted at it? I think, no I know I am. That’s probably why I like written communication so much. I don’t normally “accidentally” let something out that I’m not ready to back up. No, instead I can go back and edit out anything that might overtly give a clue to how I’m feeling. In other words, I talk myself out of talking about it. You want an example of the apex of such behavior? I just fired someone via e-mail because I didn’t want to have the face-to-face, or even phone-to-phone conversation. I didn’t want to deal with it. But at the same time, I knew it had to get done, so I did it. I wrote the e-mail, and I sent it before I could change my mind (which incidentally meant I sent it out with a typo).

It’s like my hair. I haven’t cut my hair in over two months, and it’s getting pretty damn long. I’ve also been feeling pretty depressed lately and spent a bit of time questioning the value of my endeavors and even the value of human kindness. Anthony suggested that I clean the filthy hole I live in, since that’s supposed to make depressed people happy, and then start doing things that happy people do (whatever the hell that is). I decided to take his advice. I picked up my apartment a bit, and decided to get rid of my beard and get a haircut (oh yeah, I’ve been growing a beard for a week). So I shaved, and it was good. Then I went to get a haircut, and I couldn’t make myself do it. The first place I went to, I gave my name, told them what I wanted, and then immediately bolted. As I walked to my car, I asked myself “what the hell just happened?” and “why did I do that?” I don’t know what or why, but it happened again across town when I tried to go into another barber shop. It wasn’t a panic attack, exactly, it was just an overwhelming compulsion to get the hell out. Maybe it has something to do with the four really terribly haircuts I’ve had since coming back from London (in fact, the one I had in London wasn’t that great). But I know that if I can find a place with no waiting, that will be it. I won’t have time to freak out and hit the door.

How does that tie in? I’ve confused myself a bit. Ah, yes. I couldn’t fire someone over the phone, because I knew I would never make the call. Also, I had to write and send the e-mail very quickly before I changed my mind. So then, as analogies go, if I have to wait for a haircut, I’ll talk myself out of it, just like I eventually would with e-mail. But, if there is no wait, then I take the haircut (and possible typos) and move on with my life. Yes, I think that’s it. And if it isn’t, this post is already over 520 words, and that’s too many.

[also posted at myspace.com and xanga.com/moontos]

I Had Made Up My Mind That There Must Be A Higher Power

I’ve learned some things lately, and not just that Article 2 of the U.S. Constitution provides the legal basis for American foreign policy (although I have it on very good authority that it does). No, what I learned is much more interesting, because it involves me. You see, I’ve discovered that when faced with a real crisis and an ethically ambiguous possible solution, my first thought is not “is this ethical,” but rather “do I have enough time to do this?” Not to draw out the suspense too much, but I’ll answer that question later.

Does this mean I’m less moral than I thought? Maybe. Hell, I shopped at Wal-Mart a week ago, so I’m practically wearing the Mark of the Beast on my forehead. Seriously, I think it probably just means I’m not as strong as I should be. Take for instance Ram Bahadur Bamjan of Nepal, who’s been meditating for the last six months. SIX MONTHS! That’s longer than most jobs (and relationships) I’ve had. And he’s fifteen years old. See, this kid wants enlightenment, wants to maybe become the Buddha. Now I’m no religious scholar, but it seems to me that desiring to become the Buddha pretty much means you won’t. Then again I scored “Taoist” on an Internet religion test, so what the hell do I know? Well, I do know that as desires go, enlightenment is a pretty damn good one to have. Has he really been without food and water for the last six months? Is he the real deal, or is this fakir a faker? I don’t know, but I kind of hope he’s on the up-and-up. Not because I think it would be nice for Tina Turner and Richard Gere to have someone else to hang out with, but because the alternative is pretty depressing. After all, if this kid is all about the Benjamins and not about the Buddhas then he’s no better than me, or the rest of us, and quite frankly I like to believe in a world populated by people better than me, vastly better if possible, if for no other reason than because I know what kind of icky things I’ll do when push comes to cliché. And if this world is teeming with selfish little fish like me then we're in species-wide trouble. Also, seeing the good in others inspires me to be better... and I know that sounds like Oprah's Book Club shit (the first rule of Oprah's Book Club is you do not talk about Oprah's Book Club; the second rule of Oprah's Book Club is YOU DO NOT TALK ABOUT OPRAH'S BOOK CLUB!), but it has the virtue of being true.

Sadly, I did have enough time to do the unethical thing I mentioned earlier. I had enough time to do it, and I did it well. So, I guess if you’re going to be bad, you might as well be good at it, right? Is that the moral of the story?

[As always, check out this same content at xanga.com/moontos and at myspace.com]