If It's Any Constellation

I've always had an extreme fascination with things cosmic. Before I was fascinated by anything else, I was fascinated by stars. All things cosmic: planets, stars, galaxies, black holes, event horizons, worm holes, and white holes, everything in space that exists or could possibly exist.

Well, this isn't entirely true. I was incredibly fascinated by dinosaurs, but when I learned they didn't exist anymore (in theory – at least in quantities accessible enough to study), it was difficult for me to keep my interest piqued. And then, when the evolutionists told me that birds used to be dinosaurs, the deal was sealed. It would be too hard for me to maintain an interest in something that isn't even observable in any way, and that people were trying to convince me became a bird.

The interest with dinosaurs never completely vanished. I still eat them up and think they're totally rad, but my interest in cosmic things is far more prevalent. This interest expresses itself in my thirst for sci-fi, space documentaries, wanting to know about the theoretical sciences, and simple stargazing. I even remember the very first time I stargazed. It was in Bailey, Colorado, a place way the hell up there in the mountains free from city lights. Perfect for stargazing. I lived with my mom, my quadriplegic grandpa, and my aunt. My aunt and I took a walk to the end of our dirt road street to the mailboxes so that something could be sent off for the next day. My aunt pointed up in the sky and said, “You can see the milky way,” and holy crap was she right. In all my attempts at stargazing, successful and otherwise, I have never seen such a clear picture of the milky way. It was a shock of white smeared through the center of the night sky, points of glitter sticking out. I was awestruck. In my (at this point) five years of life, I had never thought to simply look up. I looked up, and haven't quit.

So, in sixth grade, I was so in love with astronomy that I was devouring any little bit about it I could. The best part of outdoor lab (a week long “wilderness survival” exercise for sixth grade kids for those not in the know) was the Mt. Evans Observatory, the mock Stonehenge, the small scale planetarium, the stargazing. I was dumbfounded by looking at the sun through a filtered lens on a telescope. I even got invited back in the summer (as this was a winter activity) to a special camp totally dedicated to just astronomy. That exists in my history as one of the best weeks of my life.

One memory in particular stands out. We hiked 2 or so miles behind the Mt. Evans facility to a large cabin in the middle of a giant meadow. Our goal was to watch Jupiter's satellites (Jupiter's always held a point of particular fascination. And Mars. They probably do for every true sci-fi fan) Europa and Callisto (I think) swing around the front side of the planet. Something that happened very rarely, given the disparate orbital patterns of the two bodies. As a bonus, they were swinging around in front of the Great Red Spot. Only four of us (including two of the instructors) got up at four in the morning to watch this, and as if two satellites and a red spot weren't enough, I happened to witness the brightest meteor I had ever seen in my life shoot over the mountains standing right behind me. It was a total stereotypical shooting star: it even had the generic star shape preceding the rainbow infused tail. It lit up the entire field.

I even thought about astronomy as a career once. That idea quickly faded to the background when I hit high school and I convinced myself that I wanted to be other things. Then I learned that I'm lame at physics, and I accepted (gladly) that, at most, astronomy would be a hobby.

So what does all of this have to do with anything? Well, occasionally, I get a strong jonesin' for some stargazing. In fact, if I ever attend a “worship service” or something equally God awful at night, when everyone else is singing whatever tripe they gotta sing, I head outside, find a nice patch of grass, and see something far more awe inspiring and deserving of attention than lame wad songs.

So, a couple of weeks ago, I tried to find Orion. I couldn't. I couldn't see him. I realized a vast reservoir of my astro-knowledge had been drained. I couldn't find Orion, and I couldn't remember if it's because he's not visible in this hemisphere at this time of year, or if I was looking in the wrong patch of sky. But he's always been visible, hasn't he? I could have sworn I'd always been able to look to the south and see him. And then I can't remember if that's Mars or Jupiter I'm looking at. That one's Venus... think. And maybe it's just all the light noise down here.

So the jones hit really hard, but gay on ice terrestrial matters prevented me from hitting the mountains to catch Orion, the Dippers, the Pleiades, Scorpio, Cassiopeia, Betelgeuse, Moon, The Twins, and as many other constellations as I could absorb. Last night, I wanted to go, kind of a lot. I didn't because I was with friends, and I feel uncomfortable with my celestial fascination around others. I could probably spend a couple of hours just... staring, and most people can't.

So, last night at two, or rather this morning, I thought I'd try to satisfy it. I went to an area that I thought was secluded enough, but there was still too much noise to be able to see clearly. It was so late that I decided I should just go home and try the next night, perhaps. So, I drove back, struggling to see constellations, and I was frustrated because I used to be able to look at the sky and just see these shapes that so fascinated all of our ancestors. I couldn't. So, I cranked the radio (Smashing Pumpkins – Zeitgeist) and just drove home.

As I crested the hill on 112^th and Wadsworth (ish) a saw a simple unassuming shooting star. A tiny white strike that sliced through some black for the briefest of instants. But it was enough. I couldn't find Orion, or Betelgeuse, and I couldn't remember if it was Mars or Jupiter I was seeing, but at least I saw some kind of heavenly action.

My jones wasn't fixed, and my thirst wasn't slaked, but at least last night at 2:14 in the morning wasn't a wash, and it might even be some sort of stretch, but it can't help but make me feel like possibly my search was paid off in the form of some small reward, as if someone was watching me, and gave me just enough to make me feel like what I did was worth it.

The Movies We Watch: Sunshine

First, a trailer you must watch.

Then I must tell you what I've seen.

Sunshine is indescribable. I don't even know how I could tell you about this movie, recommend this movie, without telling you about it. Anything I tell you will ruin it.

It captures this amazing sense of profound solitude and loneliness. Almost the whole movie takes place aboard a ship that we get to see maybe 8 rooms of, none all that large. We see space, and we see Sol, and it feels empty. The sound is large and hollow, space is quiet. The music changes from sweet violins and trumpets to tribal drums, feedback, and static. You can feel the sanity skewing isolation that covers outer space. You truly feel alone watching it. There is only you and the 7 member crew.

The movie has one of the single most scary effects I've seen in a movie, ever. Every time it made my skin crawl just a little bit more, and I missed it the first two times. Parts of this movie had me squirming in my seat, pushing myself away from the screen and into the cushion.

The villain, the saboteur, is portrayed in a way that just breeds panic and confusion. Much like the old sci-fi of the low budget 50s, we never get to see him. The terror, and it's terror, is psychological. None of it visceral.

The story itself is lean. It's methodical. Every step it takes it takes for a reason, never taking more steps than it has to, but never skipping one. It's slow, it's methodical, it's packed, and it almost feels like too much. It steps right to that threshold then looks down before resting.

So, this is probably one of the more disjointed things I've ever written, especially when it comes to movie reviews. That's due in part to the fact that it's late and I'm tired, in part to the fact that the movie hasn't settled yet and I'm still excited over it, and partly due to my catharsis.

The Greeks said that in any good play, by the end, the audience should have experienced a catharsis. They themselves should have experienced the same roller coaster of emotions as the players, and at the end, have a feeling of emptiness and satisfaction. I felt both empty and satisfied.

[emo] Why Are You Being an Asshole To Me Right Now? [/emo]

That was a question asked of me tonight by a friend.

How do you react to that? While I don't know how I should have reacted, I know how I did react. I'll be honest. It kind of hurt. Kind of a lot. Thing is, I didn't realize I was being an “asshole.” I still don't know if I was. I thought I was just joking around and being me.

Which raises the possibility that I'm just an asshole. Which sucks. A lot. I wish I could put words to what exactly it is I'm feeling, but I just feel really... shot. It's probably even one of those things that someone just says without thinking too, which makes it worse.

Then there's the possibility that I'm just being really emo about it because it's so early in the morning.

But I don't think it's that. It's sort of a concern I've always had, that I'd cross the line from... whatever I was (maybe sarcastic and gregarious in some way)... into some kind of asshole.

Fuck.

Another Reason Why I Hate TRUTH

http://www.milk-off.com/

Because somehow, beating virtual scary "big tobacco man" in a virtual teat milking race, and then having his cow fart on him proves that second hand smoke is bad. I'm convinced. I quit smoking, effective immediately.

This One's for the Hippies

This movie will succeed where that other sci-fi horror flick "An Inconvenient Truth" failed.



Why? Because it has a beloved celebrity, Leonardo DiCaprio. Seriously, that is the American's method of determining the truth, urgency, and validity of something: does it have someone famous in it? And is it because they're an actor or a singer? Then sumbuck, it's gotta be true.

So, I always hear this jibber jabber about global warming and how it's essentially this boogeyman in my closet waiting to sabotage my life: steal my children, rape my wife, and leave me inches from death in a ditch. It very well might be. I mean, they claim all of this is based on hard documented scientific evidence, who am I to doubt them?

But then on the other side, the "other side" being the bad guys should you subscribe to this global warming philosophy. Just keeping things straight for us. Y'know: accessible. But then on the other side, global warming is a big fat stupid stinking myth, which would sound ludicrous in light of the evidence provided by the good guys, except they also believe this because of all their crazy hard documented scientific evidence. Now, I'm no philosopher, but I play one on TV. I also took "Intro to Logic" my first year at Red Rocks. Granted, I kind of flirted with sleep in that class and didn't pay much attention, but one thing I do remember is that you can't have two mutually exclusive statements (such as stating A and NOT A) that are both true (in this case, global warming's gonna fuxxor you up big time, and global warming's a farce). FYI, there's a theory circulating that Antarctica just recently froze over because of this map and others like it. Like, recently as in the last 5-700 years. There's another map like this, only older, and viking I believe, but damn if it ain't harder to find.

Both sides stake their claim and hold their position while the rest of us, the everyday Joe, has to pick a side in this political jihad and hope to dear sweet baby Jesus (just born, 6 pounds, 9 ounces, his chubby little hand balled up into a fist holding his blanket) that we've picked the right side. If we were to be honest with ourselves, however, we would have to admit that we're just going on faith. We haven't conducted this science, very few of us have the resources to be able to, and even fewer ever will. We can recite the hidden mantras our various yogis, preachers, and imams (speaking pejoratively) have taught us, but ultimately, they're just little jingos we're taught when our side is under attack, but do nothing really, because for every jingo, there will be an anti-jingo.

My proposed solution?

Well, let me submit this before the panel and have them review it. Upon reviewing it, they can get back to me and let me know what they think. But I would submit that these two sides, the good side and the bad side, or the oppressor and the underdog, however you want to slice it. How about Truth and Big Tobacco? Because that's like reason and religion: natural enemies. I digress. I would submit that these two sides, the so called good guys and bad guys, democrats and republicans, get together TOGETHER, sit down, and figure this thing out. Compare the notes and come to a definitive answer. Then they, bearing this newly lighted truth of reason, can spread the flame and bring me, the average Joe, the fruitful forbearance of their long deliberation and reasoned consternation and tell me what it is I must do to stop this, or that I can stop worrying (not that I'm very prone to worrying). And then, and this is equally important, the two sides must apologize. Either the self proclaimed "good guys" (democrats) will apologize for being a bunch of nancies fidgeting nervously with their apron strings about the burglar in the house when really it's just their cat, or the dubbed (by the good guys) "bad guys" (republicans) will come out and say, "Look, we kept this from you because, well, honestly you average Joes are retarded, and we've seen the way you act, and honestly, we have a hard time telling if we're watching human beings engaged in commerce (the buying and selling of goods and services), romance, philosophy, religion, and politics... or if somehow we left the station tuned to animal planet and we've been watching a bunch of redass baboons fuxxor'in eachother up. Sorry for being douchebags."

If these two sides were to do this, I would loudly proclaim forth: "It's ok you nancies! You can't help that you've got that sand in your hoo hoo, but now that you've been forced to see your darker selves in the Mirror of Unmitigated Truth, fold up that apron, put away the ironing board, put on something fancy, and let's go to town! I'mma treat you to some McDonald's, for this night our worries are vanished!" To the other side I would proclaim: "I actually agree with you. Watching us from the ground level is a frustrating experience, and I often can't tell where the person ends and the computer begins (as I type my blog on the internet), or at what point we stop thinking with our wing wongs and vajayjays, and use our brains and our minds. That aside, you could have at least told me. You know I'm good for it."

And then perhaps America could stop being the land of idiots we've become, the people would regain their vision, and American society would experience a renaissance of startling brilliance. We'd see the truth of George Washington's words when he said that a two party system would destroy this country (shortly before registering as a Whig), and we would reach unprecedented heights, doing those things we wished and proclaiming boldly all the while.

I'm just kidding. Having two political parties that argue back and forth like bad parents rocks. Dad comes home smelling like beer, Mom disappears for a week at a time, they alternate blaming and claiming us. It's fun. I wouldn't trade it for anything. Especially a functional family metaphor.

I'm Tired of Feeling Alone

Me too.

The Meaninglessness of Truth and Other Just Desserts

So, this one’s probably just a quick one. There’s not too much in it. It’s a little thought I had while sitting around at work doing a whole lot of nothing.

I can’t even tell you what sparked this thought, only that I had it. If I were to guess, I think I was just merely imagining existence without God. I do this sometimes. Imagine that God never was, yet somehow we are, and then see if I can see ways in which our world would be different. Things that would be different. Or I’ll imagine that all of a sudden science (the natural enemy of God) disproves his existence (much to God’s dismay), and I think that’s what I was doing today. That sounds about right.

So I thought about science disproving God’s entirety and what this does to truth. This might be similar to other arguments given/heard, but hear me out, and then tell me what you think.

So I thought about science disproving God’s entirety and what this does to truth, and I came to the conclusion that it becomes completely extraneous. Not that it becomes relative, or that truth is an evolutionary construct. No. It just stops mattering.

Think on this. What is truth? Truth would be laws, statements, facts that God has put forth saying, “These are kind of like what I’m like.” So what happens when we memorize these little facts, statements, and laws? We become closer to what God is like. We move closer to how He is. If God puts down a statement like, “give to him that asks of you,” this statement would reflect something of who God is. If I, hearing this statement, then give to him who asks of me, then I’ve moved a little closer to what it’s like to be God.

If God says that he is the only God, and I quit believing in false Gods, then I see him more clearly, I can become like him more easily.

So, science has disproved God. That is our greatest truth. What is gained in doing that? Nothing really. Sure, I can feel good about myself and Lord it over some brain dead simpleton that still believes in ridiculous God myths. Why can’t all these human stink beasts be as highly elevated as me?

But much like the man that gives in the temple proclaiming his gift, I’ve received my reward. My reward is simply getting to feel superior to others at most. And what good is that when you die? The achievement disappears.

Being like God, however, comes with a massive post-mortem retirement package. A pretty shiny one.

What about things like beauty? If beauty is just simply some evolutionary knee-jerk reaction, does it matter? Is there any value in saying “this painting is beautiful” instead of “mass genocide is beautiful”? I would really begin to question it.

I guess what I’m ultimately trying to say here is if we define our parameters, how big are they really? And are they worth achieving? If the parameters expire the same time we do, why have them at all? But, if the parameters exist outside of ourselves, can you imagine what it would be like to achieve?