A Ghost is Born: an update on updates

My first instinct in writing this is to place the blame on My. Of course, I’d do it in good humor, half joking, as to not seriously offend her, and also give the whole post a lighter note. This would, hypotheticly, be followed by numerous quotes and slightly non sequitur jpegs and links. And I would wrap it all up in a cliché little note of ambiguity, something along the lines of “Or I could just be full of it.”

Let’s try something a little different this time.

I never mention it, but nearly all of my blog entries are copied from little rants I compose in Word, ussualy when I’m stuck someplace without internet access or I’m trying to avoid doing homework. Most of the rants I compose get deleted, too fragmented in thought or broken in grammar to ever make sense to anyone else. A select few (one out of ten or so) make it to a folder in My Documents called “Ranting and Raving”.

As I’ve stated in my mission statement to this blogger page, I don’t enjoy reading or posting anything too deep or personal. No he-said-she-said and very little off the cuff remarks on events in my life. I lack the bravado of Tim, who puts a “love it or leave it” warning on his site and posts any damn thing he thinks of, good and bad. I also fall short of Anita and My’s quick updates about personal moods, thinking I’d come off as too needy. This is not saying I think less of their postings: the contrary is true, I check these three sites more than any. If anything I respect them more for being able to lay their lives out so confidently.

To the point, I’ve noticed a recent trend in how I’m viewing other people’s trials and tribulations. More and more I seem to experience feelings of befuddlement over the most serious problems in friends and close acquaintances. “Why not?” and “And..?” have leveled up to become the most used phrases in my vocabulary. My sympathy still goes out, but it seems that the greatest obstacles people have encountered are their own glass ceilings.

Now here’s where I’m cautious. Whenever I write one of these “too serious” monologues, I remember an email I received from an old friend in middle school, where he waxed on and on about the importance of keeping close friends and so forth. To be honest, it scared me that anyone was talking a light matter so seriously and just creeped me out in general.

What the hell does this all mean? Well, boys and girls, let me point it out to you. Stop worrying so much. Cease with the soliloquies and heartfelt proverbs. We’re twenty for gods sake. I can’t write an essay that does justice to Imanual Kant’s rules of Metaphysics, so I can be sure as hell I can’t write a proverb on my Xanga that will enlighten anyone.

I realize in writing this, I’m going against all the things I just ranted against. So sue me. You need to follow the law in order to change it. I’m saying to hell with the deep questions about life and so should you. You know why?

1. You are good looking. You may not be incredibly attractive at this very moment, but I’d say close to 95% of your looks can be controlled through effort in being healthy and having a fashion sense.

2. You are intelligent. You went to East Chapel Hill (or similar), the high school equivalent of MIT: if you had been in any other normal school in the country, you would have graduated top of your class.

3. The only difference between you and the Jocks/Nerds/Plastics is that they care more about Muscles/Education/Looks than you do. See numbers 1 and 2. Oh and the reason they’re more successful or get the girl/boy is that they don’t worry too much about it: they Just do it ™.

4. Everyone thinks about the Big Question, and no one has the answer. Do you think if Einstein, Plato, Stephen Hawking, Carl Sagan, Socrates and Da Vinci couldn’t get it, you can? If you want to still think about it: read what they said, they put more into a book than you can deduce in a lifetime.

5. Wear sunscreen. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience…I will dispense this advice now.

Ok, so there you have it. And from now on I’ll post those fragmented thoughts. The most interesting Blog I’ve read in the past few months began with the title “Anything that makes a girl want to suck my d**** is ok with me.” and gave an opinion of women’s beauty magazines that would have made Jonathan Swift proud. So, I’m changing the title of my blog to “ranting and raving”.

If I’m just full of shit, I can live with that.

(Also, this Wilco album kicks serious ass.)