Although I have absolutely no experience on the matter, it would seem to me that love is perhaps the most impossible of anythings to fake; though not for lack of trying. True, I am no expert on the matter, but having little experience increases one’s ability to observe from an objective stance, what people call love.
On considerably more than a few occasions I have had friends who find themselves "the one", the one to complete all dreams, to satisfy every little corner of their insecure hearts, and surpass every prerequisite (save for Bible College students who have no prerequisites, but that’s another matter) they could have ever dreamt up. “She’s got to be the one” is followed by a list of reasons proving beyond any doubt why this statement is true. And, if at Bible College, the victim will go even farther to say that it is “Gods will” for them to be together. The turning point comes when the newly supposed “in love” couple separates for a semi-extended period of time (usually between 2-6 months, in rare cases over 1 year) at which point, like clockwork, one or the other looses “feelings” for the other person and the axe fastly descends. The exception to this last part is, of course, Bible College where one or the other states that “God told me to break up with you” usually resulting in profound confusion by the receiver of the statement and a retaliatory, “but he never told me!” But really, it’s a loosing argument, how can one argue with special revelation happening right in front your face in the form of your partner breaking up with you? It’s selfish, really.
The question is, was that love?
I would suggest that the above scenario was the same kind of love that I love honey nut cheerio’s with. It tastes great, feels good, I say that I love it, but I also know that it is unlikely to last too long. After a while I know that I will discover some new cereal that will taste even better, though for now honey nut and I are in the proverbial spring time of our relationship.
Whatever the analogy, the point is that people call feelings/emotions love. But that seems lacking. Others say commitment for life is love, but that seems too cold and concrete. Or is love an action, a verb? A combination of all of the above? Does anyone even know what they’re talking about when they claim to have “fallen in love”? Surely it is something that may naturally happen but in all cases does not naturally stay.
I think I’ll just stick to honey nut cheerio’s.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Friday, September 22, 2006
College Dropout
Dear friends, companions, country men, and kin:
Accept my most profuse apologies for the lack of news concerning my current state of affairs. It was two days after my arrival in N America when the recommencement of the school year was held. The very next day a courageous and, some would say daring group of Outdoor Leadership students began a pilgrimage to one of the worlds last strongholds of evil: Squamish. The mission: to climb with all modern technical tools, the high, nigh impossible solid granite walls of Squamish. So basically a group of guys and I took an 8 day rock course based in Squamish, which is right out of Vancouver. So now I’m practically pro. If you feel obliged you can even frame a picture of me, put it on a shelf in a dark corner, and then burn incense, light candles and say things in low unintelligible tones while making upside-down “OK” signs with your fingers. If any of you need a picture of me just let me know and I’ll send you one with an autograph on the back of it.
Immediately after the rock course the group of guys proceeded to partake in another 8 day course, this time studying mountaineering—with an emphasis on glacier travel and navigation. A few of the guys even fell into crevasses just like they do on vertical limit...but no one died—which is kind of the point. But I have to admit we all looked pretty hardcore walking around with ice axes, helmets, harnesses, crampons etc. even though in reality we had no idea what we were doing for the first part at least. The transition from Japan to BC I believe is worth mentioning at this point. Two weeks ago I was in Japan experiencing extremely deathly intense heat and nigh 100% humidity. Yesterday I was on top of Hartzel (a relatively low peak but technical nonetheless) in -7c temperatures, or -15c with wind-chill freezing my leftover tan off my icy body. Depressing...somewhat, but you get some you lose a tan. Its a high price to pay.
In other news, I have officially achieved the status of “College Dropout”. Having just arrived back from my various pilgrimages and mountaineering ventures today I received an ill timed letter in my mail box stating that if I did not come and talk to the financial office by 4:00 my studies will be terminated pending me giving them money. Having opened the letter by 6:00 this evening I am officially a college dropout. Luckily, because I am best friends with the financial lady at school I may be able to weasel my way out of this mess. I’ll just have to remember to turn on the old charm and bust out the sweet cute look I do so well.
Accept my most profuse apologies for the lack of news concerning my current state of affairs. It was two days after my arrival in N America when the recommencement of the school year was held. The very next day a courageous and, some would say daring group of Outdoor Leadership students began a pilgrimage to one of the worlds last strongholds of evil: Squamish. The mission: to climb with all modern technical tools, the high, nigh impossible solid granite walls of Squamish. So basically a group of guys and I took an 8 day rock course based in Squamish, which is right out of Vancouver. So now I’m practically pro. If you feel obliged you can even frame a picture of me, put it on a shelf in a dark corner, and then burn incense, light candles and say things in low unintelligible tones while making upside-down “OK” signs with your fingers. If any of you need a picture of me just let me know and I’ll send you one with an autograph on the back of it.
Immediately after the rock course the group of guys proceeded to partake in another 8 day course, this time studying mountaineering—with an emphasis on glacier travel and navigation. A few of the guys even fell into crevasses just like they do on vertical limit...but no one died—which is kind of the point. But I have to admit we all looked pretty hardcore walking around with ice axes, helmets, harnesses, crampons etc. even though in reality we had no idea what we were doing for the first part at least. The transition from Japan to BC I believe is worth mentioning at this point. Two weeks ago I was in Japan experiencing extremely deathly intense heat and nigh 100% humidity. Yesterday I was on top of Hartzel (a relatively low peak but technical nonetheless) in -7c temperatures, or -15c with wind-chill freezing my leftover tan off my icy body. Depressing...somewhat, but you get some you lose a tan. Its a high price to pay.
In other news, I have officially achieved the status of “College Dropout”. Having just arrived back from my various pilgrimages and mountaineering ventures today I received an ill timed letter in my mail box stating that if I did not come and talk to the financial office by 4:00 my studies will be terminated pending me giving them money. Having opened the letter by 6:00 this evening I am officially a college dropout. Luckily, because I am best friends with the financial lady at school I may be able to weasel my way out of this mess. I’ll just have to remember to turn on the old charm and bust out the sweet cute look I do so well.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
on account of america
The air just isn't as good. The food is just too greasy. The trees are all weird looking. And the airport security is so ridiculously tight that you aren't allowed a bottle of water in your carry on bag. Yes my friends, I have indeed reached the land of the free and the home of the brave. But if I had anything to do with it, I would call this country the land of the cheap and the home of the paranoid. And I mean cheap in a good way, because things are cheap here. On the drive back from the Seattle airport I was thinking that, and forgive my ignorance if I'm totally off on this one, America on most accounts excluding topography and people is a culturally drab place to live. I may be speaking out of ignorance and please correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems that America has no distinctive food (hamburgers chains don’t count), distinctive festivals (sales at malls don’t count and neither does Christmas, its not American), or much that can be called uniquely American...besides basketball jerseys, cheap foreign labor, thanksgiving, and war.
But people here are funny, friendly, and open. I was freaking out today in Safeway because I felt like everyone was staring at me--there are two possibilities for this: 1. Maybe they were trying to read my shirt, it was a completely nonsensical shirt covered in big bold English words that don’t connect or make sense. Perhaps they, in an effort to make heads and tails of my shirt were perplexed and bewildered and thus made eye contact with me as if to say "stealiest of my eyes, why doth thou so beseech mine eyes to look upon such seaming perplexity as this demonstrated by thy apparel?". Or 2: In America maybe its normal for people to look at you in the eyes while your shopping. And maybe its OK not to have to pretend that everyone around you doesn't exist. Shocking. Perhaps even culture shocking to quote the colloquialism.
In any case, I will head north soon to the land that is exactly like here, but has a different flag. I don’t really know why they fly a different flag...or why there’s a border between here an there. Because you know places like Germany and France don’t have a border, its just like passing into another state except the sign says "welcome to Germany" instead of "welcome to Alabama", or vise versa.
But people here are funny, friendly, and open. I was freaking out today in Safeway because I felt like everyone was staring at me--there are two possibilities for this: 1. Maybe they were trying to read my shirt, it was a completely nonsensical shirt covered in big bold English words that don’t connect or make sense. Perhaps they, in an effort to make heads and tails of my shirt were perplexed and bewildered and thus made eye contact with me as if to say "stealiest of my eyes, why doth thou so beseech mine eyes to look upon such seaming perplexity as this demonstrated by thy apparel?". Or 2: In America maybe its normal for people to look at you in the eyes while your shopping. And maybe its OK not to have to pretend that everyone around you doesn't exist. Shocking. Perhaps even culture shocking to quote the colloquialism.
In any case, I will head north soon to the land that is exactly like here, but has a different flag. I don’t really know why they fly a different flag...or why there’s a border between here an there. Because you know places like Germany and France don’t have a border, its just like passing into another state except the sign says "welcome to Germany" instead of "welcome to Alabama", or vise versa.
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