Scientia Ops

Knowledge is Power. A Blog about anything and everything.

2012: The Apocalypse is Coming!

Apparently, the apocalypse is coming. If this were true, I’d be extremely pissed off because well, I haven’t gotten a chance to do anything I want to, before I die!

Now I don’t believe the apocalypse is coming mainly because people have said before that it’s coming and it never had–this isn’t any different. However, other people have really gone over the top. This one couple on TV explained that they had moved from Arizona to the middle of nowhere in the Midwest so they’re not surrounded by anyone or anything. Furthermore, they make their little children carry around a survival kit–even to school! And these packs did not look small or light either! I thought it was complete torture, what’s worse, is they actually told their older kids that the end of the world is coming. But bless their hearts, they haven’t informed their younger children of what’s going on because apparently kids can’t put two and two together.

And what a depressing life these people must lead to actually keep count of how many days left till the end of the world. It’s like someone sitting in a jail cell etching the days away on the wall till they are executed. What kind of life is that to lead? And to drag children into it!

They’ve said the world is going to end before, why is this time any different? People just need to take it easy and enjoy their lives. You won’t ever know when you die, you could be drinking water and choke and die. It can happen anytime, anywhere and waiting for it will only depress you and make you angry.

 

Enjoy life!

The Sentimental Christmas

I remember when I was still a child, my grandmother sat at the desk in her bedroom hand-wrapping our presents. My cousins and I still believed in Santa and so for two hours her bedroom door would be locked and we just had to wonder what was going on. This was December 23rd. Our family tradition was opening up presents on the 24th along with a big family dinner–that meant my grandmothers very¬† juicy Turkey with all the traditional sides. The night of the 23rd, all my cousins would sleep over and we’d camp out in-front of the fireplace and somehow, magically, when we woke up on the 24th, red and green wrapped presents would appear under the tree. Everyone of us had one present from every adult in the family. We weren’t allowed to open the presents–instead, we would all gather around the tree and begin to sort our presents in piles. The excitement would grow as we tried to guess what each present was.

Around 4 P.M., the rest of the family would arrive and my grandmother would start putting out little snacks and bar nuts they could enjoy until dinner time. Once everyone had gathered around the fire, we would start to sing Christmas songs because we all knew that Santa would not appear until we sang at least two songs. Towards the end of the second song, we start to hear a bell and we all knew it was Santa. We would run out towards the door and watch as the jolly man made his way through the hallway towards us. He would take a seat infront of the presents and by the Christmas tree and then he would start to give all the presents out. Before he left, we would offer him cookies but he always turned down the milk. After he left, we would all run back to our present piles and start opening them. Whether it was pajamas, toys, or in my case–books, we would all be ecstatic.We would spend the rest of the night goofing around with our new toys and snacking–but we never, ever forgot to thank all the people who brought us all the wonderful presents. We were grateful for every pajama set, every book and every toy.

I got to see a few more Christmases growing up before I came to America and Christmas was just never the same. The pajama sets, books and toys turned into laptop computers, blackberry phones and expensive jewlery. I remember one Christmas, my uncle caved and bought my cousin the very expensive laptop she was begging him for. She was in that phase of wanting everything her friends had and better and was under the impression she was better than everyone else too. That Christmas, we all sat around the tree, just like we always did, except this time, everyone had their blackberry’s up to their faces and were in a different world. Santa didn’t come over and my cousin’s impatientce was driving me nuts. We finally began to open presents, everyone knew what my cousin was getting and we were all excited for her. As she tore the wrapping paper and saw the laptop, she looked up at her dad and said, “Thanks, but it’s not the color I wanted”. She then tossed the box aside and pulled her blackberry up to her face.

Nothing was ever the same, nothing was ever sentimental anymore. It was all about how much an item costed and if it was better than what the next person had. When I get asked what I want for Christmas and I say, ” A book” I get laughed at, as if it’s a joke.

While my family may not believe in the spirit of Christmas, I still get exstatic over the idea of seeing Santa and lighteing up the Christmas tree. I get ecstatic over books and even a pair of socks with spongebob on them. Christmas shouldn’t be about the money, Christmas should be about the sentimental things, about family and love.

Christmas, at one point, when I was a child, used to be sentimental and it used to be the best time of the year. But now, it’s a mere competition over who would have the better present and the most expensive one.

Christmas just isn’t the same anymore.

I don’t know WTF he’s talking about

I had a moment today, in my English class, for the first time in my educational life, where I went, I have no idea WTF he’s talking about. I was in shock, I usually always know what the conversation is about in an English class, but this time, my mind was elsewhere.

Turkey.

That’s right! I was drooling over the thoughts of finally eating Turkey–as much as I could get in me! It’s sad that I ignored an intellectual conversation for a Turkey, but I do love my Turkey.

The point is, I have no clue what we were talking about in class today but all I know is that tomorrow, I finally get to eat my Turkey!

Electronic or paper?

I bought the Kindle keyboard a few months after it came out- I couldn’t help myself. The idea of being able to read more than one book at a time without carrying the weight of multiple books seemed like a dream. But with the Kindle, I could carry thousands of books without the burden of the weight of paper.

A month ago, I ordered the new Kindle Touch–again, I couldn’t help myself. It finally shipped and arrived yesterday and I have to say, it’s more incredible than I thought. It’s slim, smart looking, very portable, lightweight and the touch interface is just amazing. But sometimes, I just can’t help but wonder if it would’ve been better off without all the e-readers.

I had always dreamed of dedicating a single room in my house to book–a library! A large wooden table in the center surrounded by hundreds, maybe thousands of books on shelves. The shelves would be as high as the wall–so high I would need a ladder to grab a book from the highest shelf.

As much as I fantasized about this library, I have to consider all the trees that are being destroyed to create books and so once again the idea of an electronic reader seems more sustainable.

As a student, I quickly also noticed that even our assignments are computer based–nothing is ever hand written anymore. So while I may want love paper books and notebooks, it seems as if everything else is moving ahead–into the future and I must learn to adapt.

My only hope is that technology doesn’t mean forward to fast to the point where we all just can’t keep up and fall behind.

11.9.11

He sat by his window, staring at the screen, watching the rain drops collect almost like tears. He wondered if the sky was crying–perhaps he had something to do with it. He had been anything but good lately. He opened up his wind and poked at the screen. The tears went away.

“The sky has forgiven me”, he thought to himself.

He looked out his window and saw people running up and down the sidewalk, umbrella’s in hand. He looked over to the empty lot and grinned.

“I’m the only one that knows”, he said outloud.

He thought back to the day when he had been walking down the sidewalk and passed that very same lot, now wet and muddy. He had since a girl–a woman perhaps. She was on her cellphone with her back turned to him and he couldn’t help but walk up to her.

Excuse me”, he had said and she turned to look at him.

“What?”, she replied bluntly.

He grinned again, darkly, sadistically.

“You dropped something,” he said while pointing at the ground but never looking down.

And as he watched her shift her gaze from the scar on his face to the ground, he pulled the knife from his pocket and drove it into her chest.

“You’re so sweet,” he said as she fell into his arms, blood pouring out her mouth and chest.

It was dark. He knew it was time. And as he carried her body to the far corner of the lot, he knew he didn’t have to look around because no one would be there. No one ever was.

He began to dig. One foot, two feet, three feet…six feet…15 feet–it was enough now. He threw the body into the pit and tossed the dirt ontop.

By tomorrow, it would be as if this never happened.

By tomorrow, he will stand at his window again, waiting, watching.

By tomorrow, he will know who his next victim is.

And by tomorrow, not even the sky could cry enough for him.

OctoBURR

They said it would snow. I said, “No way in hell”. It’s October for crying out loud, since when does it snow on the East Coast in October?
While at work on Saturday afternoon, I turned to the large windows only to see snow falling from the sky. For a while I was shocked. I love snow, but the other part of me was thinking, “Damn it, I’m in sneakers!”. My co-workers were in shock because they too were thinking there was no way it would snow. As always, people starting blaming Global Warming but many others said Global Warming was crap and it was just a cold front passing through. But is that really what it is? A cold front that brought snow into the region in October? Or is it really Global Warming that’s causing this? I’m not going to claim I have enough knowledge about Global Warming, but it is a bit of a shock that it snowed yesterday–and snow is still piled up in some areas today! But if snow came this early this year, does this mean winter is going to be longer and much colder? Or is it just a cold front that’s passing through and everything will go back to normal? Not even the weather people have many answers for us, they’re just as much in shock as we are.
But the answers will come–we just have to wait, observe and make conclusions for ourselves.

The Works of a Writer

Being a writer, my mind wanders a lot. Many times, I write about things that are non-existent or about people that are non-existent–I have the right to do that, it’s part of what I do. But what happens when that gets criticized?
There was a discussion today amongst my peers over James Frey’s “A Million Little Pieces”. Now I do not know the details of the controversy–all I know is that he appeared on Oprah and it did not go well. The argument that I made was that as a writer, he has a right to fictionalize his stories, but, instead of labeling it as a non-fictional novel, he could’ve labeled it as a work of fiction. But then again, does he really have a say in it or is that the publisher’s choice?
Similarly, in other discussion, similarly enough, about Rap music, Hip-Hop and Rap artists admitted that they have to sing the stuff that sells. This happens to be misogynistic lyrics with severe violence. The artists claim that they could sing about freedom (from racial oppression) or fighting for more rights but that won’t sell.
I wonder if this is similar in the literary world at all. Do writers have to write stories that will sell and label them accordingly? Or do they have more choices?
All this once again addresses freedom. Does it really exist? Or does it exist based on the situation–as in, you have the freedom to write or sing, but it must be something that will sell and make everyone involved a lot of money.

24 Hours

I’m 100% sure that I’m not the only person who has once wished there were more than 24 hours in a day. I have a horrible sense of time, but I’ve always noticed how quickly the day ends. Despite how much I do in one day, it just never seems enough and it’s not because I’m not doing things fast enough, it’s because time catches up with me.
Just think, if there were more hours in a day, you could work more (hence, make more money), you could watch TV longer, you could dine out longer too, you could also read for a longer time and just do the activities you love without feeling like you’re on a schedule! I know it’s all wishful thinking, but it would be pretty amazing to have more time to do the things that I love. Especially since I’m working a lot more as well as keeping up with my University studies, I would love nothing more than to have more time to spend it with the one person that means everything to me–my beautiful girlfriend. Despite her endless support and patience with me and my schedule I know she would love more hours in a day.
But, time is what it is, it can’t be changed or altered, it can’t be deceived either. The day ends faster than you can realize and then you wonder where all the time’s passed.

Curriculum or Reality?

I posted a comment on a blog a few minutes ago that really got me thinking. The blogger was talking about the rules of English that you were taught in High School that aren’t completely true.

I am studying to be an English teacher and sometimes I wonder whether I’ll have to teach something I don’t agree with simply because of the schools curriculum. To me, it’s as if I’d be lying to my students–I’m giving them false information that won’t apply to higher education or their future jobs. Basically, what I’d teach them would be useless and I’d be setting them up to fail. Why on earth would I do that to my very own students?

This is where curriculum comes in. Though there is a freedom to teach in America, just as there are many other freedoms, there will always be a ‘catch’ which may or may not take you a while to figure out. Here’s an example; You have freedom of speech yet you can’t always say what you want. You’re not going to tell someone the brutal truth. Why? Because it’s rude, because it will ruin a friendship and because you’ll be seen as heartless. Likewise, if you’re an anti-religion person, you most likely will not walk up to a religious person and tell them their God is fake, that they’re wasting their time and that they will most like just rot when buried and not go to heaven like they predict. You’d never, ever, say that to a religious person’s face. But why not? You have freedom of speech don’t you?

Same issue goes for teaching. I know there will be things I can’t teach. I know that sometimes, I will want to just tell my students the facts. Yes, you can start a sentence with “and” or “but”. No, all essay’s don’t have to be five paragraphs. Yes, you’re allowed to express your opinion in an essay because what you think matters. Because your thoughts are important. The sad part is, as much as I’d love to tell it to my students like it really is, there is a curriculm and whether I like it or not, I have to follow it if I want to keep a job.

So in reality, the freedom’s that we cherish aren’t really freedom’s. And as a teacher, I won’t have the freedom to teach openly. No. Instead, I will have to follow a curriculum that has been written and approved by the school board who feel like the students should only learn what matters to high school–not College and beyond.

The Perfect Novel

I know there really is no such thing as a perfect novel. There will be mistakes or minor errors but I never considered the fact that there may be friendships and relationships ruined.

Growing up I harbored a lot of anger and hate. That anger and hate turned into short stories and novels. Looking back at the work I did then, I can honestly say they weren’t that bad. True, they need work; I was young and my writing was lacking some maturity. But I always did one thing really well–I always expressed exactly how I felt without worrying what others would think. The only problem is that back then, I never considered sharing my work–I never even considered become a writer or an English Major. But now I am and I have every intention of sharing my work but I know there will be concequences.

The main reason I haven’t shared my work is because I am aware my work will anger people–maybe even infuriate them. At this point in my life, I’m debating whether or not I even care about other people’s feelings. In this case, the people involved is my family. They are always the cause of my fury and hate and I have a terrible temper. Instead of acting on impulse, I put the feelings on paper and they’re not half bad. I continually invest in my family emotionally only to have them throw it back in my face. But then I start to wonder if I want to share my work out of revenge.

These thoughts are frequently on my mind when I think about my writing, or think about starting a new short story or novel.

I want to have the freedom to share my work, but at what expense?

 

Post Navigation