Many have calculated that the potential rewards of religious belief are infinite, and thus decided not to become atheists. But to what extent can you control belief? If I chose to believe in the existence of, say, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, I suppose I could kid myself into momentarily thinking it was possible, and I could certainly say I believed. That wouldn't mean I would believe in it, though. Because deep down, I would never truly accept that the Flying Spaghetti Monster existed. I could say I believe that 2+2 equals 1,895, but of course I know that's not true. If you don't belive in something, why even pretend to? It's almost worse than flat-out not believing, because you aren't even allowing yourself to have that opnion.
As far as religion goes, I don't have a very concrete belief. I'm having a harder and harder time convincing myself that there is a god. I don't discount the possibility, but I want to stop trying to believe in something I don't really have faith in. What good does it do to say you believe when you are, in reality, skeptical at best?
I was talking to my mom about this earlier today and was surprised by what she said. Though she teaches Sunday school and forces us all to attend church, she told me she doesn't really believe the Bible is true. I was further shocked when she said Jesus was most likely just some guy out for a scam and that science could easily explain the miracles he (He) performed. But she goes to church just in case, as well as to placate my fanatically religious Catholic grandmother (she's wonderful and eccentric, but even the fact that we go to a nondenominational church has put her on edge). I don't want to have to pretend like that. Belief should be genuine, not obligatory, or not at all.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Little Dorrit, a book by Charles Dickens, contains many insights that are still relevant today. Its characters are multifaceted and relatable, if a bit caricatured. It tells the story of Amy Dorrit, a young woman who has grown up in debtor's prison because of her family's ineptitude with money. She meets a man named arthur Clennam, and the book chronicles the ups and down of thir relationship.
The message that resonated the most with me had to do with one of the supporting characters, John Chivery. John is the sweet, friendly son of the prison gatekeeper. He has known Amy all of his life and loves her immensely. He asks her to marry him, but she thinks of him only as a good friend and declines in the hopes of Arthur Clennam falling in love with her.
Throughout Amy and Arthur's increasing relationship, John is heartbroken. However, he is extremely respectful, kind, and accomodating to both Amy and Arthur. He has multiple opportunities to stop their relationship and humiliate them. He never does, though. He sees that Amy is happy, and he believes that is more important than his well-being. He puts on a brave face so she won't feel guilty.
To me, this was the most definitive act of love demonstrated in the whole book. It showed the true depth of John's love for Amy that he would do anything that would make her most happy, even if that involved denying himself of the future he had always dreamt of. It's sad, but John accepts it.
The message that resonated the most with me had to do with one of the supporting characters, John Chivery. John is the sweet, friendly son of the prison gatekeeper. He has known Amy all of his life and loves her immensely. He asks her to marry him, but she thinks of him only as a good friend and declines in the hopes of Arthur Clennam falling in love with her.
Throughout Amy and Arthur's increasing relationship, John is heartbroken. However, he is extremely respectful, kind, and accomodating to both Amy and Arthur. He has multiple opportunities to stop their relationship and humiliate them. He never does, though. He sees that Amy is happy, and he believes that is more important than his well-being. He puts on a brave face so she won't feel guilty.
To me, this was the most definitive act of love demonstrated in the whole book. It showed the true depth of John's love for Amy that he would do anything that would make her most happy, even if that involved denying himself of the future he had always dreamt of. It's sad, but John accepts it.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
The roadmap...of life
I am so disappointed by how ignorant people are regarding history. It seems like no one cares about the past anymore, which is saddening. I COULD go on a rant about all the examples of this I've heard at school, but I'll refrain for the sake of my health.
Anyways, I would liken history to a roadmap. If you don't know where you've been, how can you possibly know where you're going? You wouldn't be able to predict the obstacles along the road ahead, either. You would be driving blindly, never knowing when the road might curve or what detour to take if there's a proverbial tree in the middle of the road.
People in the past have worked so hard to get us where we are today. Isn't it a shame not to give them credit?
Anyways, I would liken history to a roadmap. If you don't know where you've been, how can you possibly know where you're going? You wouldn't be able to predict the obstacles along the road ahead, either. You would be driving blindly, never knowing when the road might curve or what detour to take if there's a proverbial tree in the middle of the road.
People in the past have worked so hard to get us where we are today. Isn't it a shame not to give them credit?
John Lennon
Today, everyone remembers John Lennon, as they remember Michael Jackson on June 25 or Kurt Cobain on April 5. Every news channel is doing a special tribute story, and Facebook is littered with "rip john lennon your amazing" statuses. The funny thing is, most people don't even think about John Lennon the other 364 days of the year. My sister was about to make her Facebook status a similar tribute to him, and I asked her to name one John Lennon song. Her response? "...Hey Jude?"
It is a pretty significant day in the history of music, but if he had lived, would people still be making a fuss about him? I bet no one does a tribute for poor Ringo's birthday. The fact that Lennon died young gives him a mysterious, tragically-heroic legacy. And I think he'd want to be remembered, but not for the fact that he died before his time. For his music, his philosophy, and not just on December 8.
John Lennon should not be defined by his death. He didn't plan it, he didn't work for it, it was totally unexpected. He had no say in it. So why not remember him for what he did have a say in?
And let's be honest about another celebrity: before Michael Jackson died, everyone knew him as a creepy weirdo who dangled his kid out a balcony. And then, miraculously, he was a hero! a martyr! a wonderful musician who was judged harshly by the world and couldn't help the way he looked!
It's just so...phony (Sorry for the Catcher in the Rye turn of phrase; I know today isn't exactly the best day to be referencing it). I'd rather see people remember celebrities for what they actually did, and remember them regularly, rather than use their deaths for emotional profit.
It is a pretty significant day in the history of music, but if he had lived, would people still be making a fuss about him? I bet no one does a tribute for poor Ringo's birthday. The fact that Lennon died young gives him a mysterious, tragically-heroic legacy. And I think he'd want to be remembered, but not for the fact that he died before his time. For his music, his philosophy, and not just on December 8.
John Lennon should not be defined by his death. He didn't plan it, he didn't work for it, it was totally unexpected. He had no say in it. So why not remember him for what he did have a say in?
And let's be honest about another celebrity: before Michael Jackson died, everyone knew him as a creepy weirdo who dangled his kid out a balcony. And then, miraculously, he was a hero! a martyr! a wonderful musician who was judged harshly by the world and couldn't help the way he looked!
It's just so...phony (Sorry for the Catcher in the Rye turn of phrase; I know today isn't exactly the best day to be referencing it). I'd rather see people remember celebrities for what they actually did, and remember them regularly, rather than use their deaths for emotional profit.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
The Avalanche
I honestly feel like the best thing to compare the workload in IB to would be an avalanche. For one thing, it's huge. There's no sense in trying to hide from it; it will just bury you. Sometimes, you stumble and have an extremely hard time trying to stay afloat and get back in front of it as quickly as possible. Like an avalanche, you can't just float on the surface of all the work-you either have to fight to stay above the surface or run as fast as you can just so it won't sweep you away. As you run, there are obstacles: the proverbial trees, rocks, snowdrifts, and chasms.
Right now, with these two English projects, French journal, math problems, bio reading, and actual life, I feel like the avalanche is right on my heels. And I'm no track star.
Right now, with these two English projects, French journal, math problems, bio reading, and actual life, I feel like the avalanche is right on my heels. And I'm no track star.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Hot Air Balloons
Whenever I listen to certain songs, I automatically think back to the first time I heard them. In some cases, that makes me like the song even more. In others, the associated memories are so negative that I can't listen to them. For example, I haven't listened to "Virus Alert" by Weird Al in several years because that's the song I was listening to in the hospital when my grandpa died. It's an automatic response-I can't get rid of the association because it keeps cropping up like one of those flashy, immortal pop-ups that appear on the computer.
Most of the associations create more meaning for the song. I first heard "Summertime Clothes" by Animal Collective on a very warm day in July at theater camp. I've been listening to that song more often now that it's getting colder because it reminds me of summer. Likewise, I listen to "Oh Comely" by Neutral Milk Hotel more often in the summer because it reminds me of snow.
First impressions of a song can really change your perspective on it. The first time I heard "Hot Air Balloons" by Owl City was at 3 a.m. in Chicago. One of my roommates on the Chicago trip had set her phone's alarm so we would wake up at the righ time. For some reason, I was the only one who woke up when the phone started blasting "Hot Air Balloons" at that ungodly hour. I turned it off, but it went off three more times. Eventually, groggy and unreasonable, I slammed the phone against the wall. When that didn't work, I decided the next logical thing to do would be to place the phone high on the bathroom shelf, smothered under a pile of towels. The sound of that phone was like the sound of the Telltale Heart to me-maddening.
And now, I can't stand the song "Hot Air Balloons". I hope I never have to hear it again. If I do, I will think back to that cold night in Chicago when I, exhausted, was nearly driven mad by a phone. And it won't be pretty.
Most of the associations create more meaning for the song. I first heard "Summertime Clothes" by Animal Collective on a very warm day in July at theater camp. I've been listening to that song more often now that it's getting colder because it reminds me of summer. Likewise, I listen to "Oh Comely" by Neutral Milk Hotel more often in the summer because it reminds me of snow.
First impressions of a song can really change your perspective on it. The first time I heard "Hot Air Balloons" by Owl City was at 3 a.m. in Chicago. One of my roommates on the Chicago trip had set her phone's alarm so we would wake up at the righ time. For some reason, I was the only one who woke up when the phone started blasting "Hot Air Balloons" at that ungodly hour. I turned it off, but it went off three more times. Eventually, groggy and unreasonable, I slammed the phone against the wall. When that didn't work, I decided the next logical thing to do would be to place the phone high on the bathroom shelf, smothered under a pile of towels. The sound of that phone was like the sound of the Telltale Heart to me-maddening.
And now, I can't stand the song "Hot Air Balloons". I hope I never have to hear it again. If I do, I will think back to that cold night in Chicago when I, exhausted, was nearly driven mad by a phone. And it won't be pretty.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
We stink!
According to our French teacher, French peopple think Americans smell bad.
You're probably laughing-"US? WE smell bad?"-but it's kind of true when you think about it. Right now, I smell like a myriad of products-rosemary, mint, lemon, vanilla, cocoa, almond, butterfly flower, and lavendar. And it smells weird. Americans use so many types of lotions and perfumes to make ourselves smell good that we often produce a heavy, cloying smell. People in the US say that people in other countries smell bad because they don't wear as much deodorant or perfume, but anyone who has ever smelled PINK perfume knows that the foreigners may be on to something.
I don't know why I felt the need to write this. I guess it's because I just took a shower and the smell of shampoo is following me everywhere.
You're probably laughing-"US? WE smell bad?"-but it's kind of true when you think about it. Right now, I smell like a myriad of products-rosemary, mint, lemon, vanilla, cocoa, almond, butterfly flower, and lavendar. And it smells weird. Americans use so many types of lotions and perfumes to make ourselves smell good that we often produce a heavy, cloying smell. People in the US say that people in other countries smell bad because they don't wear as much deodorant or perfume, but anyone who has ever smelled PINK perfume knows that the foreigners may be on to something.
I don't know why I felt the need to write this. I guess it's because I just took a shower and the smell of shampoo is following me everywhere.
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