Pray for a Cure

It's been far too long since I've posted an entry. Sorry fans, me life is quite busy. I've been working on a new book, finished a short vacation, and been battling an encroaching apathy. Uh, it's brutal.


Anyway, recently I saw an ad and it got me thinking. The ad said, "Pray for a cure." This was in regard to cancer. Now I found this to be an ironic and humorous ad. Christians deride science for its objectivity and unwillingness to put substance behind anything that cannot be verifiably proven or postulated. Science is evil for stating man came from the primordial ooze and evolved from the single cell to the perverted, multicellular deviants we are today. Science is horrific for cutting open bodies to discover how they work in order to repair them and improve them. Science is monstrous when it dares to investigate existence (whether through physics, genetics, etc.) because that alone is "God's domain." Yet every Christian I know goes to see a doctor. Now if God were all powerful, shouldn't Christians be going to see priests, reverends, preachers, shamans, etc. to heal them? I find it fascinating that when it comes to the spiritual, people are more than willing to support the theory of God but when the physical comes into play, people turn the other direction.


So I saw this ad begging all to pray for a cure. Are we supposed to assume that God has not deigned us worthy of discovering the cure for cancer? Doesn't that make him a bit sadistic? He is the source of all things, so he created the cancer. Does this mean God gave us cancer and doesn;t want us to live? Is God deliberately trying to kill us all?!?! The idea that we have to pray and pray and pray for him to care is not only tedious but odious. It implies we are supposed to feel dirty and worthless and thus deserving of our suffering. If we were worthy, God would give us the tools to heal ourselves. Bollocks. Bollocks I say!


Now I'm going on a brief tangent here. Bear with me. Why is it when things go well, God gets the praise and yet when things go bad, humanity takes the slack? This is the equivalent of a worker having their supervisor take credit for their hard work but then being blamed when the office fails at a task. Does that sound fair? Doesn't the individual, rather than the supervisor, deserve a little recognition for their work.


Sure, God created us, but its was humanity that created the arts, sciences, sports, and more. I don't remember reading where God taught us to read and write, basic math, or anything else. He "supposedly" created life (shoddily I might add) and abandoned us after we made one simple mistake. For a being that believes in forgiveness, I find his expulsion of man from his presence for wanting to learn (Tree of Wisdom) to be rather underhanded. When I read Genesis, I get the feeling that God doesn't want us to progress. He wants us to remain immature, unthinking, and beneath his thumb. He wants us to need him. The very act of trying to attain independence is anathema to the guy. He wants us to need him because, otherwise, he has no purpose to be. He's a Jewish mother!


So seeing that ad about praying for a cure is just so ironic. It's not the hard work of scientists that will lead to a cure. It has to come from on high. If the scientists find a cure, God inspired them. Until then, we don't have a cure because we simple aren't worthy. God must guide science. For a guy who created the whole of existence, this seems rather blah. Why not have his subordinates (priests, apostles, etc.) go around and heal everyone. The Church could use some good karma afterall and increase support for ecclesiastical authority. It would also make up for the 20th century (where the hell were you for that, God?!?!).


The whole reason for medicine is the fact that God never really seems to help us in our times of need (sickness, injury) no matter how hard we pray. Medicine is man's way of helping himself, so begging God to help make us more independent of him (strengthening of medicine so we do not require a laying on of hands) is simply against God's agenda. There is a reason God, if he does exist, doesn't reveal his secrets. He doesn't want us to outgrow him. The guy seriously has issues if you ask me.

Number 1 Matthew Moses Worldwide!

I never thought the day would come, but I was the number 1 Matthew Moses in the world. I was! I went to numerous search engines, including Google and Yahoo!, punched in my name and my website came up first. Oh, the glory of being the top Matthew Moses of the world! I know this sounds shallow but every little victory means something in my rather sad life. So there! I was the number 1 Matthew Moses in the world. Did you ever achieve so much? I think not! Now bow before me!

The Decline of Me

Most nights I can’t sleep. I just lay there shrouded by night, twisted in my blanket, drenched in cold sweat. Thoughts rush through my mind feverishly, blurring through my consciousness with tiring rapidity. I attempt to focus on them, but they dissolve at the merest notice. Sometimes I catch myself grinding my teeth in frustration, a salty hint of blood on my tongue.

Inhumed in this purgatory between dreams and the real, mentally meandering, I realize why a part of me doesn’t want to sleep. There is a sense of trepidation between the end of one day and the beginning of another. I would call it the terror of the unknown. After the tumultuous last few years, tomorrow only seems to offer less and less possibility. My idealism has been trampled by pragmatism. A divorce coupled with the loss of every material possession I once had has left me questioning the stability of tomorrow. Nothing is forever my subconscious whispers. Nothing is certain. I try to clear my mind and forget my unease, hoping that if I can shut down my cognitive faculties I can find some rest. It doesn’t help. I lay there locked in the waking world, tossing and turning as the minutes tick away.

The fatigue mercilessly tightens my limbs with a numbing rigidity stripping me of physical control. I feel weighted down by some unseen hand and become leaden. My body feels alien. It’s so ironic. I can’t sleep, yet my body can’t find the strength to stand.

Yet my mind becomes increasingly sensitive. My dull senses sharpen, and I hear odd things in the shadows. The foundation of the house moans from time to time. It is plaintive and pathetic, perhaps wondering what has become of those souls who wander through her. The wind shakes the windows, tapping time and again asking me to come join her. But I can’t find the strength to rise and let the wind pass me by on its evening trek.

My weary eyes wander around the room, amorphous shapes emerging from the inky darkness with time, dreams bleeding into reality. It lends a surreal touch to my surroundings. Stripped of form and substance, these shapes of lost day become primordial. The twilight filtering through the blinds give the silhouettes a mystical air; little particles dance like sparks in the moonlight, twirling angels falling from heaven. With the merest mental touch, I give these shapes form and meaning and for a time forget the exhaustive burden of consciousness.

My actions stir other senses. A stale, musty smell permeates the room. How had I missed that smell? There is something soothing to that sweet scent, earthy and natural. It brings to mind a warm, comforting softness I could lose myself in like the bosom of a lover. The tension leaves me, and I relax into soft pillows.

I swear I feel a tremor travel through the bed. It is a subtle quake that comes every time the world begins to fade. A sickness develops in my gut. There is something unnatural to this. Afraid to move, yet unsure why, my eyes frantically scour the blackness for what disturbs me. Then I see it, this thing that threatens to shatter my reason. I am unsure if it is actual or hallucination, my hold on reality is so tenuous at that state between wake and sleep, but I swear I see the shadows coalescing into a shadowy specter. This malignant thing hisses unintelligibly, standing at the foot of my bed paralyzing me with its cowled, condemning stare. My once quiet heart rattles painfully in my chest, thumping at my ribs and thundering in my ears. The breath catches in my throat and I choke. I close my eyes and will this thing away over and over, praying it obey. When I look again, all that remains is the empty night. I steal a breath and the night becomes more solid.

Turning to look at the clock, I curse the time: too short to sleep and too long until dawn. In futility, I force myself to rise, the bed creaking beneath my body. On unsteady feet I take to the hall. Despite the blackness, I know where I am going. Off to the right is the dining room and beyond that the kitchen where the fridge hums and the coils ping. I turn left trudging down that somber corridor passing door after door until I reach the bathroom at the end. I cross the threshold and close the door behind me. Flipping the switch on the wall, a spark blossoms before me which then grows into a dim, buzzing glow that finally flares into a piercing effulgence illuminating everything around me. I find myself surrounded by a soft, fuzzy whiteness.

I bow my head and turn the lever. The faucet gushes water into the sink and I cup as much as I can, bringing that soothing cold to my face washing away the lassitude that plagues me. The bleary world around me becomes stark. Without realizing it, my head rises, and I look in the mirror and see the touch of time. Once golden hair, lush and thick, has become tarnished and thin; a vague wisp receding back beyond my barren crown. Darkness shrouds my eyes, heavy bags weighing down my dulling, bloodshot emerald vision which fatigue has narrowed to slits. Then there are the lines etched into my face from too many frowns, smiles, and furrowed brows. Past emotions have etched a faint reminder of events long past, gradually digging deeper with each passing day. At the center of my face is my crooked nose which whistles plaintively from time to time. Beneath that are my dried, chapped lips. I can still remember when they were thick and soft. Now they are chewed and cracking. My visage has acquired a certain leanness, no longer plump with baby fat. My cheeks have hollowed leaving me with an emaciated, hungry look. I swear I can see a grinning skull beneath the wavering visage before me. But my skin is the surest sign a change is overtaking me. Once vibrant and solid, my flesh has paled and taken on a translucent quality. I can see right through myself; past the blue veins and thin musculature to the bone and beyond like I am nothing but insubstantial shadow.

Seeing this, I can’t help but think that I am gradually being eroded by time. I have hit the peak and am beginning the decline of my corporeal self. What I once thought immortal, this creation that is me, is now taking on mortal properties. I am withering away. I know I am too young to allow a fixation of age to overcome me, yet I can’t shake the morbid curiosity of watching myself approach ruin. It is as if, realizing that I cannot reverse the process, I instead have subconsciously chosen to run head on toward the precipice if only to fly briefly over the abyss before that final fall. I have embraced the decline in order to render its bitter taste palatable.

The process of aging reminds me of sculpting. One begins as this crude rock, untouched and virginal; capable of becoming anything. Gradually it is carved until the desired shape is achieved. This formless chunk of rock takes on characteristics, becomes something, finds definition. But life isn’t content to leave a masterpiece alone. It continues to chip away regardless of the cracks that develop. Maybe life is searching for that desired perfect shape despite the fact that such obsession leads to a whittling away of the closest approximation.

That is what I see in the mirror: a life which is ironically being consumed by living. Experiences mar my once smooth skin, a shade of stubble increasingly obscuring my youth. I trace the scar under my left arm where a tube was once inserted, the phantom pain of a collapsed lung causing each breath thereafter to sting. The sharp ache spreads to my heart, a stabbing pang that makes my eyes burn until warm tears pour down my face and spill into the cold sink below. Further misery is resurrected to haunt me, both spiritual and physical. Through that depressive vision I begin to see darker prophecies. My frail hand passes before my eyes, trembling weakly. Those boney fingers have become so slim that no ring could ever hold but instead slip off. Falling away, I see what remains of me. My small frame shrinks more and more every day, the weight just refusing to hold. The light of the sun, warm and benevolent, would pass right through me. I turn away, leaving the light behind on my way back down the murky hall. My steps lighten as I leave my thoughts behind until I seem to hover. I become more ghost than man; a wraith haunting the world. How long before even my reflection vanishes, and I am no more than a memory? And after that, how long until that memory fades to a dream forgotten on waking?

The Origins of Democracy

Many believe Democracy to be one of the greatest forms of government ever created. Psychological study supports Democracy as the most efficient and healthiest style of government in existence, encouraging social interaction, granting purpose to each citizen, and building faith in social institutions encouraging the flowering of community. Every citizen has a vested interest in their government, something to gain and much to lose should it fall, thus each contributes to their utmost to support the state because without them it would surely collapse. We come to identify ourselves with the state and thus protect it. It is an amazing form of governance, creating altruism, innovation, and inexhaustible possibility. But this grand political design did not spring from ideal thoughts, nor did it arise out of the vague belief in the equality of men. Democracy was birthed from fear, not hope. Doubt, not faith, was the ironic seed that birthed Democracy.

Democracy is in and of itself a check on power. It divides authority serving to keep any one person or group from unlimited reign. Each of us is given a piece, so each of us is a member at the table of power. This serves to draw the whole community to government, hundreds, thousands, millions of minds working to solve problems. When the power is wielded by one or a few, the threat to the whole of society increases. The centralizing of power serves to alienate individuals from the state. If one has no say, then one has no part. If one has no part, then why sacrifice? The state and the community separate, eventually destined to become enemies. The process is inevitable. From democracy to republic to tyranny to anarchy. Sometimes society rises from the ashes. Sometimes it does not.

The catalyst of centralized power differs. Sometimes it is a military threat from without forcing a state to streamline government for more immediate responses and defense. Other times it is a gradual process, good intentions such as socialism or communism which gradually take on more and more responsibility. Many times, it is that one or few who suffer from an insatiable drive to seize the reigns of power. It is this figure(s) who serves as the harbinger of tyranny’s reign.

Those of unlimited power find themselves quickly corrupted by it. This is because power can shape reality but also distort it. The tyrant must surround themselves with an inner circle who will carry out their wishes. This inner circle gradually becomes a rampart against the real as they, not the leader(s) exercise authority. They are the tyrant’s tools. This system insulates the leader(s) from society. They lose touch with the real, surrounded by those who rely on the leader(s) for power; leeches parasitically clasped to the breast of government. These sycophants serve as both a crutch and a handicap. Knowing their importance as the gatekeepers to power, this court of bootlickers can distort the truth to the tyrant in order to achieve their own gains or to escape punishment for their ills. They tell the leader(s) what they want to hear. Act as the leader(s) orders. They reinforce the tyrant’s belief in himself until he comes to the view of infallibility. There is no right or wrong. There is only the leader(s) will. This leads to an erosion of moral thought and eventually higher reasoning. Value for critical thinking is lost. Long term planning trails off. The importance of the state falls away. All that matters is the immediate wants of the leader(s). Power exists to support them and them alone. Power begins to be abused further. It becomes baser, more primitive. Society is no longer geared toward community but towards the leader(s) will. Basic service are completely forgotten leading to a decline of the state. As society crumbles, the leader(s) cannibalizes it. He becomes an all consuming monster. This is largely due to an evolution of the pact between the leader(s) and his sycophantic inner circle.

These sycophants become a threat. As the leader(s) powers wane, he comes to rely on his inner circle and their supporters to carry out his will more and more. These sycophants begin to accumulate power from the source until they became the leader(s) sole source of power forcing the leader(s) to make concessions of a damnable sort. Without these sycophants, the leader is vulnerable and defenseless. So he releases the leashes and lets his hounds loose to do as they will as long as they remain loyal.

One has only to look at Mugabe of Zimbabwe for a modern example. He came to power at the behest of the black majority of Zimbabwe in a revolution that saw the toppling of an oppressive white minority government. Great power was vested in him to change the nation for the better. Mugabe surrounded himself with allies as he sought to improve the plight of blacks in his country, home to numerous educated citizens and the breadbasket for southern Africa. He sought to raise the standard of living, spread education, and integrate his nation following the racist practices before his ascension. But greed tainted his rule. Mugabe began to act on his own behalf, enriching himself at the expense of the whites in his country. When the public became wary of his actions, Mugabe used his security forces, rather than the will of the people, to solidify his grip on power by destroying the political opposition, tightening his grip on all parts of the economy, and enforcing order as he saw fit. He sowed xenophobic fear throughout the state of Western attempts to re-impose colonial rule upon them. He galvanized the majority against the minority (blacks against whites). He did all this to divert the citizens’ eyes from his snatch at power. No one balked until the famine came coupled with unemployment and widespread corruption. Then the violence began to affect the majority as it had the minority. The state had come to threaten the community. The split was unmendable. As Zimbabwe increasingly turned against him, Mugabe knew only his security forces could keep him in power. They knew this too. They have made demands of their own, confiscating farms, terrorizing the populace, and worse with impunity because of the power they now held. Mugabe, more and more, has become a figurehead. Even now, Mugabe is largely in power against his will. Security forces are pushing to keep him where he is for fear of the power they will lose. Anyone else in office would surely curb their actions. This is the fate of all leaders: to be devoured by the power they once held.

Tyrants have existed for millennia. As to whether Locke was correct and government arose from a social contract or Hobbes had it right when he stated the strongest forces forged states is irrelevant to this argument. Tyrants arose from the mists of time and forged kingdoms and empires across the face of the world. With absolute power, only their will could check them. The human mind does not work well without boundaries. Every soul, given free reign, is destined to become lost in the limitless expanse of possibilities. Unlimited power is sure madness for the wielder. Every tyrant has proven so. Men such as Ivan III, Stalin, Caligula, and even Alexander have shown the decline humanity encounters once one passes through the portal into limitless authority. There is no structure, only void. Laws do not exist. Punishments do not exist. One keeps going forward into the darkness because there is nothing to hold them back. That is what absolute power is.

Tyrants become so far removed from their subjects that they fail to see them as people anymore. Humanity becomes a faceless mass used to build a tyrant’s feverish dreams into a reality. Bones and blood become resources. Given enough time, every tyrant comes to see them self as a god. Reality is no more. All that is can only be at the will of the leader(s) and woe be unto them who challenge this will.

Democracy arose from the lessons learned of tyrants. The Greeks, the Romans, and many others forged their democratic governments not out of love for, and respect of, the people but to prevent the rise of another evil force. Power was distributed to halt the resurrection of an Age of Tyrants; to keep the Beast in the Pit.

Yet here we are in modern America watching the state gradually centralize authority into fewer and fewer hands. Our leaders are becoming insulated and detached. We have become numbers via polls, Social Security, and census data. We rebel the only way we know how, embracing our individuality in a stranglehold to the point of choking the life out of society. We are embarking on an insane path of centralization via fragmentation. Yet no one notices. So many have withdrawn from our political system because they have lost hope. So few have a stake in what is thus no one cares what is to come. The void is starting to yawn wider and wider. The question is who will step through it.

My Reason Why

People always wonder where the magic went, waking up to face each day; life getting dimmer and grayer with every receding dream. The magic never went away. You’ve simply become blind to it.

A large number of people believe maturity is the end all, be all to human development. We have to progress to that logical plane where everything had a reason and everyone a purpose. There is no room to be wild and spontaneous. One must have responsibilities and keep obligations. Well I say otherwise. Responsibilities are the chains that bind us and obligations the bars of our own make. Why does everything have to make sense? Why must we all have a purpose?

Now I’m not an immature man. Far from. I understand the need for certain responsibilities and the reason for certain obligations. After all, in this world, trust is an important thing. But I call shenanigans on forced responsibility and unnecessary obligation. Why should I take a job I don’t like? Why do I need that expensive car, those trendy clothes, or social status? And should others look to me, why is it my obligation to lead them? Why should I have to watch what I say or how I act to serve as a role model? Why can’t I simply be me, others be damned? There is a thing in life called choice and should others ignorantly follow in my footsteps then let the lemmings spill over the cliff. At least I have enough forethought to step aside at the last moment because I see the cliff rather than the guy’s back in front of me, placing my trust and safety in a guy whose face I’ve never seen.

This is the world we live in. We’re expected to “grow up”, set aside our wonder and instead question question question and prod prod prod to find out why, yet when the answer is right there before us we refuse to see it. Growing up is all about denying your true self. We build this armor around us of past memories and fashion glasses of former experiences not realizing that all we’re really doing is cutting ourselves off from the world and distorting the reality around us. Reality is only what we make of it. Our minds and perceptions filter what really surrounds us and sadly maturity means narrowing that broad horizon to a slit which allows only the slimmest of wonders to slip through.

Children are wonderful and I’ll tell you why. They don’t have past experiences to cloud their view of the magnificent world around them. Everything is new and special and welcome. Children aren’t afraid. They see no reason to lie to themselves. They don’t worry about what their place is in the world. They only worry that they don’t have enough time to experience everything there is to offer.

That is what life is. It is experience. Maturity, true maturity, shouldn’t be a limiting thing. You shouldn’t sell a part of your soul because you have something to prove. You should confine yourself to an existence that smothers your lusts to be.

The magic children see and we are too blind to notice is simply the wonder of life. There are still so many experiences out there no matter how old you are. So much to learn and discover. If we’d just let go of what has been, let the scales fall from our eyes, the blazing light of existence would reignite that smothered flame of our souls. Take every moment for what it is. Not what you think it represents. Find that magic.

People call me immature. But you know what? I don’t live for them. I live to be. That may make me giddy and to some apparently careless, but it’s my life and I don’t want to regret one single part of it. Life is experience people. Stop taking the safe road. Set off for that horizon. Follow your dreams. Create your destiny. Never settle for less than what you’re worth because you are worth far more than any material object you could ever own.

Humanity is Screwed

I have come to one very depressing conclusion: humanity is screwed. The environment is collapsing, the water is polluted, political systems are failing, society is crumbling, and civilization is on the verge of a mediocre smothering. I know, it’s been said thousands of times before, but come on people. The writing is on the wall. The worst part is most of you are too illiterate to read it.

Now notice I don’t claim the world is going to end, nor that life will cease to be. Trust me, we are way too full of ourselves if we think we’re capable of obliterating this rock we exist on. And life will continue to thrive long after we become extinct. That is what evolution is all about. Sure there will be tons of cockroaches and rats, but they have the tools to survive. Hell, we’ve thrown everything at those creatures short of an atomic bomb and even if we did that, those twin species would continue to scramble to all four corners of the globe.

So why is humanity doomed? Well, it’s quite simple. It’s our mindset. We all know the all important question posed to humanity: Why am I? Now we’ve come up with some interesting answers as well as some very skewed ones (scientologists, I’m looking at you). The problem is the question shouldn’t be “Why am I?” The question is “Why should I be?”

First, why the initial question is not only worthless but a threat to the human mindset. To think we are so unique that we warrant an investigation into our origins smacks of narcissism. Do you want the literal reason for why you are here? Sex, my friend. Do you want to understand how life came to be? Chemicals, energy, and chance. Do you want to realize your purpose? It’s balance. Always has been, always will be. The universe is a complex equation of check and countercheck, everything balancing everything else out because too much of anything is detrimental to the whole. So to believe that humanity ranks above the ecosystem, the plants that make it up, or the animals who thrive in it is to remove ourselves from our natural environment and place us in a land of confusion. Just because we have a gift called reason doesn’t mean we should do the equivalent of masturbating with it by dreaming up tons of questions that will never lead anywhere. Reality is a subjective thing. What you think makes sense I know I sure the hell don’t agree with. So seeking out some universal answer to some philosophical enigma is nothing more than a waste of time. You have reason for a reason: to figure out real world problems and create solutions. We are a part of the grand equation, each of us serving as a cog in the machine. The only question we should be asking is what cog are we meant to represent. Believing ourselves special because we are human and sentient is ridiculous. Sure, I know I’m an entity. What is so special about that? If we were to make man vanish, the world could easily get on without us. That is because we’ve so removed ourselves from the life cycle that we’ve become more of an irritant retarding life’s growth. We don’t balance things. We tip the scales in our favor. We play the role of the measurer rather than of weight on the scale. We are so distant from the world, sealed in our tombs called the modern home, seeing the world through television instead of through windows, we really have no clue what is going on around us. We’re oblivious to the fact we are destroying the world. Luckily, tipping the scale too far will only lead to us sliding down and out of the picture allowing it to bounce back. We, sadly, won’t be there to see it.

Now I’m going to shock you. All that crap you’ve been told since birth about being special: you’re not. Yeah, mommy and daddy wanted to build up your ego, aid in the building of some self-esteem. Well, face it. You’re not special. In a world of over 6 billion (6,000,000,000) humans, what exactly sets you apart? You have the same organs, the same senses, and likely the same skin and hair of some fraction of the rest of humanity. So are you a stand-out? Are you some demi-god or messiah, some superhuman? No, you’re not.

Let me shock you some more. We are not all equal. Yeah, the introduction on the United States’ charter would have you believe otherwise: We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal. First off, if that were true then why were only the educated upper classes representing the rest of the colonies? Why was there an aristocratic elite even in a backwater like America in the eighteenth century? It was a nice little idealistic spiel but not an honest one. If ol’ Tom Jefferson wasn’t winking when he wrote that then the man was obviously broken in the brain. No my friends, we are not all equal. There are those who are smarter, stronger, more aggressive, more creative, more innovative, etc. We are a multifaceted species and that is a good thing. It allows us to look at problems from different angles, to each play some role. If we were all exactly alike, all “equal”, then why should one guy get the chance to hold a position over another? Why are there hierarchies? We all have gifts, usually not the same as others. The pathetic part is television, the media, and our very culture rams down our throats that we are all capable of the amazing and nothing is beyond our grasp. People, stop driving yourselves insane. Not everyone is capable of being the greatest. The slots are limited, the competition intense, and you very likely do not possess the tools to accomplish victory. Sad but true, yet it doesn’t make you pathetic. You play a part, you’re just not meant for greater things. There is no shame in realizing your limitations. But to believe yourself capable of far more than you really are; that is hubris and that is the direction humanity is going. If we continue to believe we can do the impossible, the frustration is going to kill us.

Another problem with civilization is our glorification of those who feed our hunger for illusions. We deify athletes, movie stars, and musicians yet forget soldiers, teachers, and others who contribute far more to our society. Sure, that boxer overcame the odds and knocked out the champ in the last round in a Cinderella comeback, but what about the soldier who took a bullet in a unknown battle in a forgotten part of the world? Wow, that actor was really good in that movie. Real blockbuster stuff. Did you see all the explosions? What about the teacher who taught the actor to read the script, the writer to write, etc. We glorify our dreams and forget the reality. There is a reason why past societies considered entertainers lower than prostitutes: because they take you out of the world. Sure, they can make you forget the problems in your life for a few hours because of them, but when it’s over you sure the hell still have the same problems. Why not glorify people who actually strive to change the world, not make you forget about it?

So, I ask you, why should you be? What do you have to offer humanity? What do you have to offer the world? If you’d just drop the damn narcissism and realize you’re part of a larger whole, that you’re not special or unique but belong to a larger whole that can’t function without you, then maybe we could stop the fragmenting of civilization and actually turn the world around. You exist so that there is a tomorrow. That is why you are. Try to find a way to make it happen. A life well lived is one where you left the world better off because of you’re life. It’s not material possessions or fame, historical precedent or a even a large family. It’s having done what you could that things improved.

Come on guys. You all have reason for a reason. Stop wasting it, shutting it off, squandering that potential. Stop letting other people tell you what to think, how to act, what should be. Make a mark. Let those sparks of thought fly, burn bright with your inquisitive nature, illuminate a path to a greater tomorrow. Make me eat my words. I’m challenging you. Now do it!

Will Smith SUCKS!!!

I know that everybody makes bad movies, but Will Smith is in a league all his own. I'm not sure if making shit movies so that the audience will appreciate if you make good ones is a valid argument for the heinous nature of his career. That's like banging your head with a hammer because it feels so good when you stop. More often than not, these days people make bad movies because they can get away with it. If there were any justice, all parties involved with making drek like "Wild Wild West" would never be allowed to work in Hollywood again. But they did, and while that's great for Smith, every time somebody makes a piece of garbage like that and then brags about how they could put all of the money he made off of it on a 16 wheeler in his next family friendly rap song, it lets the studio just how much rancid shit they can get away with making. Now look where we are today in the movie industry. Perhaps one movie in 50 is any good at all, but that's okay because they're "trying". If I made as many fuckups in my job as they do in Hollywood, I'd be eating government cheese right now, but in the movie industry it's like "Nice try, here's 50 million dollars and a goodie bag."

Every actor makes bad films once in a while. You can't always pick 'em. But Will Smith makes the same bad movie over and over again. Moreover you can tell that every one of these films is framed and written to make Smith look as good as possible every second. They should call every one of these shitty films "Will Smith: The Movie Part 2 or 3 or 5" etc. The guy has all the clout in the world and he still can't bother to use it to make a literary adaptation that isn't a complete bastardization of the source material. He's not swinging for quality; he's swinging for the lowest common denominator because he knows he can succeed by appealing to the simple. Anyone using box office receipts to prove a point obviously never had one to begin with. You can sucker the idiot American public into seeing and loving anything. Look at the success of Jumper and Cloverfield and any Adam Sandler movie. He's a big box office star. Big fucking deal. It says more about the general public than it does about Will Smith as a talent.