Epiphanetic Flashes…

Epiphanetic Flashes. That’s what I call those brief sparks of illumination that pop up periodically in my life when the world becomes crystal clear. It’s like someone popping a flash bulb in a dark room and for that split second everything comes to light. The haunting memory of that moment lingers in my brain, rattling around while I try to dissect every piece and extract from it any and all meaning.

I had one of those flashes last night. I was angry about something. Frustrated really. One of the many songs on my Pandora station was playing while I wiled away trying to come up with anything I could use to answer a reading response for another class. I stared at the words I had written and realized the dross I had regurgitated onto the screen. It was as my finger hovered over the delete key, the last twenty minutes of work highlighted, that this flash cracked through my skull. Continue reading Epiphanetic Flashes…

Death of the Hopeless Romantic

A post I wrote two years ago (yesterday) that I happen to see because of a Facebook memory popping it back up into my… um… face.

O.o

Yeah… but, edited it, fixed a few grammar mistakes (yep I make those) and figured I would regale you with the 1000 plus words on my thoughts about “hopeless romantics.”

Thoughts from the Front

hopeless-romanticThe hopeless romantic.

That person that holds on to the idea that romance is not dead. That clings to the fact that somewhere out there, there is someone who is going to fulfill their every desire and make them feel complete… by the way… thanks, Jerry MaGuire for that one…

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The Ideology of Stupid…

What is it that makes a person say or do stupid things? Better yet, how come there is this need to sensationalize this stupidity by attaching it to social media?

The Problem

I can’t scroll through (insert social media name here) without being inundated with people’s opinions on one topic or another (mostly political these days) and suffer through the plethora of nonsense that was once relegated to private conversations or backdoored drawing rooms*.

I mean, I remember when people would say, “You never talk about politics or religion” when it came to dinner parties and places where you were prone to gather with a large group of individuals.

The Reason

The reason you never did was because everyone has an opinion and everyone’s opinion is probably different than yours. Take any candidate and ask a supporter what they agree with about them, and sure enough, another supporter will pop up and say that’s the thing they don’t like about them, but they love this about them.

So, ultimately, an argument is going to ensue to one degree or another. Now, when you take two people who differ widely, that is going to be a much more heated discussion.

And Multiply

Sadly, when it comes to the interweb** your opinion isn’t just cast to a few individuals. It’s cast to tens or twenties (what? I don’t have a large base, your point?) and those tens or twenties are all of their own opinions and are going to usually share back (with likes, loves, re-twerps, shares… or hates, flames, trolling and indiscriminate loathful rhetoric that would make a stripper blush***).

Now, I’m an advocate for “free press” and the “Don’t Censor Me, Bro” movement, but there is this part of that whole thing that so many people don’t understand. You right to voice your opinion comes at the cost of having people lambast you in return.

The Caveat

The fun part is… if you post a comment in the negative to whatever the stand is, you best be fully aware that people who agree with the original statement that you flamed  are going to rally and strike back.

And Thus

I’m pretty sure this is how gang wars start.

In Conclusion

Do you want to know what’s stupid? People getting upset at other people for having differing opinions. Do you want to know what else is stupid? Telling someone they are wrong for what they believe without actually having any evidence to back it up. Do you want to know what else is stupider****?

Do you want to know what else is stupid? Telling someone they are wrong for what they believe without actually having any evidence to back it up.

Do you want to know what else is stupider****? Thinking that you can convince someone to change their mind by showing them that they are wrong.

Yeah. That last part. That’s really stupid.

So, people of the interweb**, stand up and unite in solidarity against stupidity and recognize that you, yes you, are allowed to have an opinion and you have the right to voice it…

BUT!!!

So does everyone else.

Thank you.

mic-drop-2

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*I have no idea what those are, it just sounded really cool…she, just accept it.

**yes, I know it’s the internet, but interweb sounds more fun.

***I have no idea what makes a stripper blush, but I assume it would take a lot… but I could be wrong. If so, choose another profession you think that doesn’t blush very much and insert it into that part.

****shh, I know it’s not a word…

Daily Prompt

Humility…

Humility.

Not something I am particularly well acquainted with. Granted, I’m not a very proud (boastful) person either. However, when it comes to my writing skills, I have had occurrence over the last few years to recognize that I am not as horrible as I think that I am. There are times in my writing groups or in my classes where I will read peoples work and my immediate thought or critique is, “Seriously, give up. No, really. I hear accounting is a good career.”

And then I hear my wife’s voice nagging me, “Be nice.”

Now, let me just set one thing straight. Being nice is just not in my character. I’m brash, I’m curt, I’m honest. I’m kind of like the 2×4 that most people need to be hit with (or at least I’ve been told that (ok, I might be a bit proud of that aspect… just a bit)). So, when my wife tells me to be nice, I have to take a deep breath and remember that I am dealing with humans who have feelings… so much ugh.

And then…

Then it happens. That moment when I read Langston Hughes or Robert Frost of Dylan Thomas and I am reminded in a brutal fashion that I am not that great.

Oh, how the mighty do fall.

Where just a few seconds ago I stood high on a pedestal and sneered at the masses of the inadequate and doggerel, I now look up from the crater that has become my bed and I reach up, stretching forth my hand toward the gods of the written word and wonder when… when will be my moment to shine like the stars that they have become, twinkling in the heavens and haunting my thoughts like ghosts from a time I long to bring back.

How I long to walk amongst those stars and hear their stories. How I wish to sit for a while under the tutelage of those men and women who weave the words wistfully and without work.

Just to create something, anything, that will touch another soul the way that they have touched mine.

***

p.s. A is for alliteration