Pergo

So I was reading an article in the paper, and it was on about how we ought to build on our strengths and focus on those rather than our weaknesses in order to get through the daily grind. And I agree fully, I think that mankind should try and reach it's fullest potential. However it quoted a book written by Tom Rath and there was a statement in there that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. Tom Rath said "You cannot be anything you want to be - but you can be a lot more of who you already are."

You cannot be anything you want to be - but you can be a lot more of who you already are.

Let that sink in a moment. Now he does have a valid point, instead of trying to force ourselves to do something that we're not very good at, we are much more productive at playing to our strengths, and I agree in the most basic sense of the phrase. Sure we can be more productive, but that also creates complacency, boredom, and stagnation if you're simply stuck in one thing. Where's the spice of life? The Adventure of Risk? I can see his perspective, especially coming from the Boy Scouts. When I was first made a Senior Patrol Leader in my community troop it was because I had developed those skills at a younger age, and my father was a great leader as well so I took from his example. A person might have suggested that I was a natural born leader but I disagree, I developed those skills through my upbringing. Regardless, as an SPL I was tasked with asking the boys to perform certain duties we had in the troop, especially during camps. One specific outing that comes to mind was our trip to the National Jamboree in 05. And when I made the assignments for my senior staff, I played to their strengths. Andrew was extremely organized and fantastic at keeping files together for one thing or another, so I appointed him as my Scribe. Stephan was similarly very organized and resourceful so I asked him to be my Quartermaster. Andy, while we disagreed a great deal on leadership styles, was very amiable and could reach people differently, and after a manner represented half the troop we were contingent with, since half of us were from different districts. And we ran like clockwork, because everybody played their strengths and did it well.

So yes there is wisdom in that.

Let me draw another example for you. I'm not an athletic person, ask anyone what knows me. I hike and enjoy the outdoors sure, but I'm no sports jockey by any means. So when I wanted to longboard because I wanted to snowboard because I thought it was cool and I was living in the Rockys, I was breaking VASTLY new ground. I had never done anything like it before in my life! But I wanted it so I went out and did it, and it was difficult. I spent the first week just practicing balance and mounting the board, nevermind taking it out at all and riding it proper. After I thought I had a handle on the situation, I tried coasting down the driveway into the street, and the minute I hit curb I was tasting asphalt. I took it easy and it took months. I started doing long stretches on sidewalks, not knowing that was actually step 3, I was supposed to try it in parking lots first since they're much smoother. That was where I went to post-sidewalks so I could practice carving and dismounting and whatnot. When it became too cold to board anymore I was happy with my progress. I changed something about myself, and it started with desire.

Now Tom definitely could say, "Well that's easy, obviously you have a naturally well developed center of gravity, and you're a natural longboarder, it's in your blood."

But I simply don't agree with that. You can't be whomever you want, WITHOUT DESIRE. That's the key, not this stagnant and non-progressive school of thought that tells us we don't have to change or improve. We're so complacent in the thought that we should just accept ourselves. While we should be happy with ourselves, don't get me wrong, we should always want to stretch ourselves too. Go out and do something you didn't think you could do. Another example, my hands are really small for being a tall dude, and it's really uncomfortable trying to learn the guitar. I do it anyway. Because I want it. If I wanted to be an astronaut, I could. Desire is your key, not acceptance. Because complete acceptance is simply a form of defeat, submission, surrender. It limits us because it gives us the sense that we cannot be anything more than we already are.

Ask yourself why the powers that be might want that of the lowly folk.

Operator Out

I Love My Sisters

Living in Utah has made me privy to some ideologies that make me nuts. Maybe that's the wrong word, but I don't want to call them heresies either because that's a bit harsh. Here's my qualms.

I'm tired of women being blamed for the wrong deeds of menfolk. Lately there's talk of the reasons why men take advantage of women and it being because of their apparel. Friends of mine that are women roll their eyes each time they're asked what they learned in Relief Society on the first Sunday of each school semester, because consistently, every year, Bishops and other priesthood leaders make it a habit of warning them to dress modestly because otherwise they are distracting to the men and cause them to have inappropriate thoughts. Two reasons why you should never listen to this fallacy. Number one, God has never said this is why he likes it when women are modest and chaste. He said it in the scriptures Jacob 2:28 For I, the Lord God, delight in the chastity of women. And whoredoms are an abomination before me; thus saith the Lord of Hosts.

In fact this entire time Jacob is yelling at the menfolk for acting like prepubescent teenagers without a single braincell because they're breaking the tender hearts of their wives.

Additionally this makes menfolk to look like nothing but sex crazed rage beasts! That we don't have deeper thoughts that what's under a shirt, so women better wear an iron maiden and a turtleneck for good measure because you don't want to give men the wrong idea.

Now certain prophets and apostles have mentioned that this is an added benefit of chaste and modest women being it helps the men, but instead members of the church have this infuriating habit of taking a few words and making it doctrine. It's like when my sister was being taught in Young Womens, over and over and over again, get married in the temple at all costs, that's what you want, get married in the temple. Instead it should be BE WORTHY to get married in the temple, be READY to get married in the temple, but you have people going in that ought not to and then after their married never go back!

Here's my humble opinion. Women should be chaste and modest not because men are pigs, but because it makes God happy. And if there's anyone that you should care about is happy, it's Him. If you upset the whole world, it matters little if you've at least made God happy, because frankly only He matters.

Now men, stop being pigs. And I mean this in the sense that some of us say, "Well I can't help it, it's in my nature." Yknow I'm tired of our society perpetuating a culture of acceptance in the sense that we simply let things go for that same excuse, 'I can't change who I am and I should be proud of who I am.' The natural man is an enemy to God, and that's the laziest excuse I've ever heard. What you're giving is a thoughtless cop-out to allow yourself to be whatever you want regardless of how damaging it is around you. Whatever you naturally are is found when you're living to your fullest potential. And what's worse about this lie of "I can't change who I am," is people around you start to believe it because it's easier to rationalize than be hurt. I had a woman whom I was very good friends with tell me she doesn't blame her husband for leaving her and her kid. "It's the natural order of things, the male of a species is supposed to procreate as much as possible, it's a survival tactic, and he can't do that if he's tied down. I have no shame in that." I gagged. Maybe it was a survival tactic when we were still classified as Afarensis! Before we had cogent sentient thought and feelings and emotions. What is wrong with a world that's ok with zero accountability and complete and total acceptance of everything, for good or ill? You're talking about entropy and I believe in a higher power than that.

Ok I'm done ranting. But sisters try and see my point of view. Be modest because it pleases God. He's told us that much. Not because of what menfolk may think if you dress otherwise. And menfolk, stop blaming your carnal urges on womenfolk and how they dress. It's called read a book. Do some pushups. Meditate, something that will get your mind off it, and you'll be a better man for it.

Operator Out.

We hate haitus..es..ies? Haiti? No that's a place. We like Haiti.

It's been almost a year since I last wrote. Shame that, since I've written a gripload of things in my journals and whatnot. Though nothing's happened since I last talked to you in March. Absolutely jack. Yeah I wouldn't buy that either, but I'm not going to regale you with tales of my triumphs over the krakens and giants of our day. Instead I'm going to try and entertain you. Because who want's to hear the boring drivel of a twenty something who's mildly miserable yet rioting at life? IT'S CALLED FREAKIN LIFE.

 Aiight (which is the proper spelling, just so we're clear) so you right now currently have something in your possession, an object, that is near and dear to your heart. Why is that? Right now on my keyring I carry a blue carabiner, which if you don't know what that is, then we don't deserve to be friends. Seriously, GET OFF MY FOLLOWERS LIST. Actually I'll tell you, it's a little clip that climbers use regularly to attach things to themselves like rope, a harness, other climbers, more rope, their chalk bag which helps reduce moisture in their hands, and rope. Like a frak ton of rope. You can get them in every truck stop if you look hard enough, and while you're at it get a Slim Jim.

So this carabiner I got while on an adventure and it was what carried my Nalgene bottle at my side so it was easy to access. Iteresting that adventure was because drinking water became as natural as breathing, it was just part of how you moved and thought. So afterwards I used the clip to carry random things on my backpack during my mission. That makes this carabiner almost a decade old. After the mission I landed a job I didn't deserve at a credit union and it carried my vault keys, because I was constantly forgetting them. Same thing at a bank I worked at back home, and now again at a new credit union I'm working at. And I look at this crummy thing, the paint's almost gone, should've broken by now, but the spring is as tight as it was the first day, and I think, I'd be really sad if this thing broke.

WHY? And I had more thoughts. We place emotional value in everything around us. Well maybe not everything, but we personify and anthropomorphize (YES THAT WAS IN MY IMMEDIATE VOCABULARY STICK THAT IN YOUR JUICE BOX AND SUCK IT) a lot of our everyday objects that if damaged, lost, or stolen elicit an emotional response.

My brief stint in an Anthropology course taught me a piece of the puzzle. Perhaps it's because we're extremely social creatures and can't stand to be alone. That when human interaction is stifled by one reason or another, we place emotional value in something around us that is stable and constant. It's been proven that we need interaction, but I found that interesting, that it could be the source of our best friends, the everyday objects that mean something to us and no one else.

Food for thought!

Since we're on the topic of anthropology, there was something else that caught my eye, there was an article about a city or town or neighborhood that was seeing increased crime in areas where children lacked a paternal figure in a family social circle. And I thought, well yeah, there's no competition, of course the upstarts are going to try and usurp authority to create an idyllic environment their minds have cooked up, pieced together by their desires. Additionally the lack of training from a wiser and older leader creates an entropic youth. Where's my proof for the hypothesis? Look at your teenage years, I don't know about you but it was freakin chaos for me. Without a guiding figure, which don't get me wrong my father is much more to me than simply a figure head, I would have been lost in the foray of finding one's self. Give your old man a hug, is all I'm suggesting.

Aiight Operator Out.

Back to the Shaduf

So I asked myself what the draw was to listening to music so much and I had a theory a long time ago which I thought I'd use for one of my stories, or a campaign in Gamma World. It goes like this, so before there ever was anything, there was light, and the light could sing. And it was the most beautiful music ears had ever heard, save for the fact no ears existed. Soon, from the light came darkness, because the darkness wanted to take the music for itself, hide it, so only they could listen to it. A feud began, between the light and the dark, and in the dust of their conflict rose planets, and plants, and beings, and eventually man. Because these forms of life were begotten of both light and darkness, they responded to the song, they yearned for it, they sang themselves. It's the conflict of light and dark within us, that wants to set the music free, give it back. I've got more, I'll continue this next post. I was invited to go rock climbing with my siblings, and I dunno, I mean yeah, I'm capable, I can do it, but it's so uncomfortable, and I really don't get much fun out of it, plus I'm outta shape, it would just be an awkward uncomfortable experience. Another side note, I've decided to label myself as a recovering gamer, meaning I've not picked up a controller in weeks now. Reason is, 1. They really are a waste of time 2. They're a gateway to other temptations 3. The only games worth playing are full of unrighteous things and 4. When I die, there will be hundreds of awesome games that will come out after I'm six feet under, and there's nothing I can do about it. Now, bear in mind, I ain't looking to be this, Ricky Righteous/Peter Priesthood, mostly because that fetcher doesn't exist anyway. But I've made my decision, I don't want to play video games ever again. My nicotine patch is MineCraft, a builder simulator rendered in 16 bit graphics. It allows me time and space to create things, build things, and that I think is a worthy game. Here's to bronzing our controllers!! Speaking of Minecraft, observe my first and most awesome build, Castle Greyskull. The interior was incredible, and I loved building this. it's a 1:41 scale replica of a human skull, and I'll tell you what it was a bugger, getting built, but it was done. Lower half was done in survival, so I kept falling to my death, getting blown up by creepers, but I convinced the server op to let me have creative mode just so I could finish the build. You can't see it, but the rear cavity where the brain should be is actually just glassed over so there's an open room exposed to light, and I have a small waterfall and park with trees in there. IT'S THAT BIG. My active server switched map seeds because we all wanted to do something new, what with so many folks contributing now, and I like the new map, offers some exciting twists and turns. When I first logged, I ran about not knowing where to go, and it was already getting dark, the monsters in game, mind you being much more difficult than in updates past. I find a small mine where somebody started off, and I thought 'yeah, I'll hide here for the night, check it out,' and as I close the door, a bunch of zombies come right up on it, start banging on it. I'm thinking, nah, he ain't gonna get in I'm safe. I say I might starve in team chat, and the op comes and gives me bread, then disappears again, and suddenly, zombie busts through the door. I wig out and go all FISTS OF FURY on the zombie, and finally get him down, but not without him getting a few hits on me. I pull out the bread to eat it, and ANOTHER ZOMBIE walks through the now open door, so what do I do? I beat his undead chain-mailed brains in with the baguette I have in my hand! Not sure I like zombie bits on my bread though. Aight, Operator Out.

Being Poetic Sans the Poetry

My dream home is a aged cottage on the northeast coast in New England, probably somewhere in Maine. The cold granite shores that break suddenly to icy sand, grey and tough. I can see deep green grass on a mossy knoll just on the other side of a dark treeline, though midday it may be. The smell of bark and earth clings to the air whilst churned on the saline wind, almost refuse in odor. The structure was white once, as was the dancing picket fence, though patches of paint have since been stripped away, by time's grave temptations and Poseidon's mighty breath. Concrete crumbles softly in the twilight, aggregate made loose or visible in the heavy rains, motions of dancing lime in the patches of dry mud where small creeks once dwell'd. Great panes of poorly made yet highly sought windows distort vision into the gloomy bright of the cottage interior. The door, faintly red, character, brass knob rough with thousands of strands spun across its surface, listing a little to the left, loose when handled yet secure when closed. Two stories, the second with a loft and a faux light tower, where mites and creeping things tend to dwell, a musky nook of chilling warmth to rest and read and dream and look over the crashing deep, seemingly within reach. Why is it, we're attracted to such old and desolate things? Have you ever noticed, we cling to familiarity even in the absence of nostalgia. I travel past scenes of decrepit homes and hamlets and ask myself, who lives there? In their towering heaps, their crusty exteriors, moss grown canopies and debris strewn roofs. What patterns rest on their curtains? How cold is their kitchen on a early spring morning? What scratches are on the floors? Do their floorboards creak in protest or sigh softly as they slowly molder to sawdust? Linoleum and yesteryear's sparse carpets. Knicknacks and bobbins and familiar things, heirlooms that lose value in a generation. Have you ever noticed government buildings built in the last thirty years resemble prisons, but in the last ten they resemble Frank Lloyd Wright attempts? I have been very pensive as of late. Walls built. Wars won. Triumphs made. And dragons slain.

Battleship Pegs and The Realization You're Smart While Dumb

So first off: Did anyone else notice that the bombs the aliens used in Battleship resembled the pegs you use in the boardgame. NOW YOU KNOW. In other news, as I was burying myself in some Sherlock Holmes post gift ripping when I got a disturbing text from a friend. He informed me that he was playing a simple sidescroller with a younger relative of his and made a startling discovery. At a particular instance, the younger relative had extreme difficulty in conjuring what to do to beat the instance. After 15 minutes, the boy finally got it, but it spoke to the problems I addressed in another article. The handicap we've given modern gamers by making gameplay grossly over simplified with extensive and implicit instructions or tutorials is causing the generation gap to widen. What only perpetuates the problem is the rise in popularity of the FPS and the casual game. While I personally believe the popularity of Angry Birds was merely a fluke, there is still something to be said about the highest grossing video game genre on all aspects. Which is 'ew.' My point is, we really are neutering the creativity of our generation by making games so simple and easy, we don't encourage gamers to puzzle at all. And whether we're fond of the notion or not, gaming has risen in such popularity that it's become a solid part of mainstream culture. If it continues to trend the way it has, gaming will become an integral part to the development of children in the first world (sometimes called More Developed Countries or MDCs). That in mind, do we really want to bog down our kid's minds with simple physics slush or do we want to help them expand their minds while still enjoying games? Do I have to ask? PS I hate Angry Birds. Stepping off to the side, I want to close with another interesting pattern I noticed. Pixar seems to have a fixation with the big and the small, old and the young. The dichotomy works insanely for them, but what's the deal? Think about every one of their shows. Finding Nemo. Toy Story. Wall-E. Every single one of them. Seriously what's up with that? OPERATOR OUT

The Obligatory Moments

Every gamer has their moments, and every gamer/writer has their moments post. This is mine. I was conjuring the intrinsic value of video games and the stories they tell. More importantly, the lessons they tell. And as I was pondering, I thought "That's all well and good, and I've harped on that for years." This time around, I want to be able to just, reminisce. My gaming history didn't start with an NES or Atari. My first game was Crash Bandicoot 2. That crazy marsupial, I'm still unsure if bandicoots are such a thing. Chasing down Cortex wasn't the hardest of levels but it was certainly satisfying to bring that madman down, after throwing me to the strangest fiends I had seen yet. But this was only the beginning. Fast forward to the moment I finally beat Songi in that blasted forest in Legend of Legaia, wiping his lackeys across the ground on their faces. A minor instance, I know, but satisfying all the same, it was so difficult and I had no clue how to play RPGs. When Kairi was separated from Sora I was choked up, after everything we had been through defeating the Heartless. But some of the greatest moments were shared whilst playing with friends. During an all-nighter, my roomates and I played Halo 3 through the campaign on Legendary. I gotta go into detail for those unfamiliar. The whole area is breaking up. In order to prevent the Gravemind, essentially a sentient fungus that assimilates all sentient life (hence it's sentient...ness), Master Chief has to cause a wildcat explosion triggered by lighting the unfinished halo installation on the Ark. As the installation breaks up around you, you're forced to race across falling platforms in warthogs avoiding falling bits of the installation and the various enemies trying to escape as well. In four player coop, you have two jeeps, but if one falls and dies, that team has to wait until the other stops at a checkpoint near a new jeep for them to rez again. This only happens twice. So my friends and I are leapfrogging to the end, we've passed the last checkpoint, we're trying to reach the ship before the halo ring goes up. A platform explodes and sends the other team sailing. My gunner and I are it, trying to reach the end, we're all tired, we want to go to bed. And someone shouts, "Do a 360 into the ship." Soon it becomes a shouting match "Don't do it! You suck at driving! Just get there!" Ignoring it all, I race down the final hill to catch speed, hit the jump, and just before I run out of ground, I jerk the wheel, slam on the brakes, and start to spin, clearing the platform. In mid air as we near the ship, I pull a 180, and it still looked classy. Suddenly, the cut-scene, and the room explodes as we cheer. We made it and did it with style. I miss those kinds of moments. The moments when waves of Locust are chasing us down in multiplayer, and during the 25th wave, both my team mates die, and from the other room they hear me shout "you've got to be kidding me!" Or the long winded discussion my roommates had about the end of Mass Effect, and disagreeing completely on the character of Saren, when finding out months later, the reason their opinions differed entirely was because their choices had led to two completely different Sarens. These moments make gaming epic, when all else fails. And I love it. Whether it's killing dragons, successfully tanking for a crew from across the world, or laughing at something stupid with my siblings, games offers a chance to connect over story telling like never before.