SOURCE: The ouija debate

There is an ongoing debate about the powers and realities of the Ouija board. Essentially, there are three basic positions regarding the Ouija board: 1 - it is dangerous; 2 - only dangerous if used with evil intent; 3 - it is harmless.

The Ouija is inherently dangerous, can open portals to evil entities and should never be used. The Ouija is only dangerous if used with evil intent, but can be a useful tool for spirit mediumship if used properly and with good intent. The Ouija is inherently harmless and has no real powers of mediumship for good or evil; its effects, if any, are only psychological in nature. Which is true? Talk to any group of people and you’ll find strong proponents for each argument. A few years ago, Steven Wagner conducted a survey of readers on this subject. It results showed that 65 percent of those who responded felt the Ouija was dangerous, and 35% felt it was harmless.

OUIJA and other PSYCHIC TOOLS: Psychic Readings | Psychic Medium | Virtual Ouija Board Pagan | | Tarot Readings | Play an Ouija Game

]]> http://antistrife.wordpress.com/?p=38 Mon, 18 Aug 2008 16:09:46 +0000 helios2k6 http://antistrife.wordpress.com/?p=38 I came across an article on CNN about the cliched phrase, "Can't we be friends?" The article focused on the situation after a relationship ends and the subsequent friendship that many people ask for. Personally, I believe that being friends with your ex is a death wish. How could you possibly recover from a failed relationship when you're still in contact with your former lover? And this CNN article argues just this point and puts it in terms of death and grieving.

"Can't we be friends?" It's an old refrain, ready-made for the one who wants out of a relationship to deliver to the one who doesn't.

...And mourning is the theme that matters here. Trying to be friends immediately following a breakup tends to prevent the rejected partner (and maybe both partners) from mourning the death of romantic love -- from accepting its finality by suffering it all the way through.

The article discusses why this grieving process is so important and the actual elements that occur during a relationship that require "repair" after a breakup.

As painful as this can be, it ultimately performs an essential function. Behind the tears, mourning has silent work to do: It binds up the torn places where love was and gives them a chance to heal.

This is crucial because falling in love carries us beyond our customary limits of self-expression into territory that puts our sense of self at risk. Two people in love place much of themselves in each other's hands for safekeeping; that kind of interdependence is why the loss of an intimate partner entails the depressing experience of being left behind with a diminished sense of your own existence.

I couldn't have said it any better. Whenever you invest in a relationship (fall in love), you're basically agreeing to spend your time, money, and "self" on your lover. But the question is, what exactly is this "self" that you spend? By that I mean, when you fall in love with somebody, you make them your desire, you pour all of your emotional care onto this person, you invest all of your emotional well-being in this person, and, thusly, your emotional future is in the hands of your significant other. Your significant other has the power to twist your deepest emotions. Although I knew this a long time ago, I am relieved that I'm not the only person to recognize this. Now, here's the kicker, since all (serious) relationship require this type of investment and, unfortunately, all relationships come to an end:

In learning how to grieve our losses, it doesn't help that American culture, with its emphasis on romantic love and happy endings, isn't very hospitable to mourning. But when we enter into the deeper and more difficult stretches of loving, Hollywood can't shield us from the truth: All love stories come to an end, even those that last a lifetime.

This is what I've been trying to tell everyone. For fuck sakes, why the fuck do people even bother with relationships? If all things that have a beginning have an end and seeing as how an end to a relationship is comparable to grieving for a DEAD PERSON, why in the flying-fucking-hell would you ever invest everything you have in someone else? Why would you ever make a COMPLETE STRANGER, a person that you do not know entirely well, your sole steward for your emotional future?! WHY?! WHY DOES THE HUMAN RACE DO THIS? Why am I destined to the same fate? I know that I'll end up down that road of falling in love against all odds. I know that some sweetheart will blow me away and marry me, only to end up being my most hated enemy when the dust settles and we've divorced. Why would anyone invest all of themselves, their money, time, and self, into an investment that has a 100% CHANCE OF FAILURE? THAT HAS NO YIELD. THAT HAS NO PROMISE. NO SECURITY. NO BENEFITS. That's right, all relationships are built to fail and thus, all relationships will become failed relationships. Much like a failed company, a failed relationship is a relationship that has ended because of poor management, strategy, and/or product.

Most people believe that going through relationships and failing constantly is just a part of life and is healthy. What the fuck? That's like saying spending all of our money on shitty companies and going bankrupt over and over again is healthy, natural, and expected. What the hell? Would you do something like that? Would you continuously throw your money away on high-risk (100% fail rate), zero-yield investments over and over again? HELL NO! Yet, people do this all the time in relationships. They invest everything, get nothing, hurt other people, hurt themselves, lose friends, lose money, lose time, lose their emotional balance, and ultimately die trying to find that "special someone" who doesn't exist. Ha! ...special someone...

Maybe I'm just ultra bitter, resentful, and hurting from my past relationship. Maybe, instead of "looking on the brighter side of life" I've decided to actually look at the situation as it is. Optimism is just denial; it denies the existence of negative attributes that make up the bigger (if not complete) picture. Saying that, "every cloud have a silver lining," does not deny the fact that, "THERE ARE FUCKING CLOUDS BLOCKING THE SUN." If there are clouds in my fucking way, then what the fuck does it matter if it has a silver lining? I want my fucking sun, dammit!

Like many people who move to Lummi Island, I had fantasized about what living here would be like. Coming from Chicago, I imagined of escaping the rush-rush of urban life, toxic air that burned skin and lungs, and impatient drivers weaving in an out of traffic or blaring their horns when I actually stopped at a red lights. Some of those dreams weren't too far off the mark. Others now seem very naive. Take, for example, 'peace and quiet.'

The reality is that in summer it's often doggone noisy. Chainsaws, weed-whackers, lawn mowers, tractors, backhoes. Carpenters' hammers and concrete trucks when houses are built. The rock band practicing down the hill, the mercilessly barking dogs living in the house above us, with owners who were, shall we say, not exactly enthusiastic about changing the situation. Just below us, Dave's gravel trucks, backhoe & tractor trailers, and dump trucks rattling back and forth on his dirt drive during the day, replaced in the evening, at night and on weekends by he and his friends' cars, trucks, motorcycles, towed boats and ATVs (fewer  of those these days). Then there are the live fishtank pumps that grind away night and day down at Leo's Seafood on Legoe, plus the July 4th fireworks and the occasional (heavily amplified) music festival.

And traffic noise. How could we have bought the one lot on the hill that is the focal point of a parabola rimmed by Legoe Bay Road and Tuttle Lane, which magnifies the grinding of every beater and pickup rushing to catch the ferry, every concrete and dump truck laboring up the steep hill or careening down it? Aarrgh!

The noise drove me crazy the first couple of summers. I fumed and fussed -- it violated my dream. But as they say, tough pittooties.  Or, Get real.

After seven years in our house, the reality generally suits me just fine. It is quiet much of the time. The dogs and their owners are gone, as is the band.  Dave's equipment traffic has increased, but he's a good neighbor, needs to make a living and provides services that people value. And all the rest? They're just the sounds of people, intertwined with the hooting of owls at night, the kee-eee of red tail hawks, the chirps of white-crowned sparrows on the tips of t-stakes, the wind in the douglas firs to the east, and the waves crashing on Legoe Bay's cobble beach when the south wind kicks up. Plus, we've added our own weedwhacker, mower, tractor, power saw and other noises to the neighborhood orchestra.

Now it's all just the friendly sounds of home.

Don't think you are alone in believing that life is mysterious, that reality is impossible to understand. Anyone who doesn't think that has allowed his brain to settle with what he has been told to believe and to understand.

As you read this sentence, there are nearly seven billion versions of reality among us humans. What's more, by the time you finish reading this article, many of those realities will have changed. Some people will think differently, thus they perceive the reality of that moment differently than they did before.

Can you remember what you thought about the world ten years ago? It's not the same as it is now, is it? In fact, it wouldn't have been the same for you five years ago, one year ago, even a few days ago. Everything you experience alters your sense of what is real.

If you pay attention to (believe) what the media tell you, you will believe that the world is rapidly becoming a more terrible, even horrifying, place. It isn't, based on a huge survey of factors around the planet, but it serves the needs of the media for us to experience some fear about the way of the world, enough that we will tune in to their next broadcast or read their next newspaper or magazine.

If you believe those who criticize you--many do, even if you are not aware of it--then you will see yourself as a clearly inferior being among a much more superior group of fellow humans. They want you to feel that way. If you do, then they have changed your reality. If you do not believe them and act contrary to what they think of you, eventually you will change their reality by giving them a different impression about you.

Even the belief you have about the reality of the world--your world--this moment will be different from someone close to you, such as your spouse. What's more, your spouse's (friend's, mate's, mother's, sister's) sense of reality where it concerns you will differ significantly from your own sense of reality about yourself.

I am reminded of the chipmunks I see outside my window where I live. Chipmunks (known properly as the eastern chipmunk) are solitary squirrels that live in burrows they dig in the ground. They fight with every other chipmunk they meet, usually over food or burrow space, throughout the year (except when they are sleeping during winter). But when mating time comes, they are great romancers and lovers. Once the deed is done, with as many mates as they can find, they return to their solitary existence. When the females have tended to their young, they send them off to fend for themselves, as most rodents do, so they can be alone again.

Being more sociable creatures, we don't try to live alone for most of our lives except to mate. Yet mating is one of the few things we do that we all agree about. Many of us try to avoid procreating during the process, but we still want to have sex because it's fun, pleasurable, satisfying and most of us get a good feeling by helping our partners to enjoy themselves and to feel good.

Once the sex is over, we become relative strangers who cohabit, friends and roommates who live together for their mutual benefit. Until it's time to have sex again.

How can two people ever stay married under circumstances like that? Actually, it's not that hard. But the condition is that we must always consider and work toward the best interests of our partner (or immediate family). Sometimes (often) that means putting their best interests ahead of our own. When that doesn't happen--when one person's own best interests take precedence for themselves most of the time--a relationship is little more than a way to pass time between episodes of sex. Eventually, the relationship will fail.

For some people in a failing relationship, their reality is that their marriage is good and healthy, until the other person passes them the word that it isn't. We may call it betrayal or cheating, but it's simply a matter of two people having realities that are too different from each other's.

A good relationship is not a matter of compromise, as we are taught. Compromise is part of it, but only as a consequence of putting the best interests of the other person first. Compromise comes after, not first. Compromise only comes first in business relationships.

How can we put the best interests of our significant other first if we aren't sure what those best interests are? If you think that your other half's best interests are the same as yours most or all of the time, then you likely don't know what the other person's best interests are.

It has wisely been said that a good relationship is not a matter of staring lovingly into each other's eyes, but of looking outward in the same direction and seeing similar realities.

Just a little something for you to think about.

Bill Allin
Turning It Around: Causes and Cures for Today's Epidemic Social Problems, a book of solutions to social problems that most people and governments consider realities of modern life, but that aren't. They can't see the solutions because they don't look in the right directions. The solutions are easy and cheap, but hard to find it we aren't looking for them in the right way.
Learn more at http://billallin.com

BBC2 y Philippe Starck están buscando candidatos para el nuevo reality show "School of Desig" [Escuela de Diseño] que pretende descubrir nuevos talentos en el diseño británico. Starck elegirá a 10 diseñadores para vivir y trabajar en París durante dos meses junto al ilustre diseñador francés.

Como en todo buen reality que se precie, habrá un ganador que obtendrá un contrato en el estudio de Starck y formará parte de su equipo de trabajo. Todos aquellos que quieran inscribirse deben hacerlo en la página de la BBC y presentar dos trabajos antes de finales de agosto.

Después de esto, no se si ponerme a temblar, a llorar o a reír. Todos tenemos en nuestra retina la revolución que supuso la aparición de Operación Triunfo en el mundo de la música. La vanalización de la profesión de músico, cantante o demás labores musicales ha llegado a tal extremo que en estos momentos cualquiera cree poder convertirse en profesional de la música simplemente con cantar un poco bien en el karaoque.

Si pensamos que para hacer un programa de televisión que tenga cierto atractivo como diversión domestica, tendrán que crear situaciones divertidas, apasionadas, con piruetas escénicas por parte de los concursantes, y todo esto no lo veo en el trabajo diario del diseñador. No es muy divertido ver a un diseñador durante 8 horas delante de un papel haciendo garabatos y pensando [eso no se puede ver], como solucionar un problema técnico. No veo al público interesado en una conversación de dos horas sobre los materiales de un producto, o sobre la percepción de un prototipo.

¿Que pasará? No se, no se... pero de entrada me parece peligroso. El programa empieza a emitirse en Enero, estaremos al tanto para ver que ocurre.

[via: CR Blog]
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+info:
BBC

Just a thought.

Anyway, this post is a humorous story about a mother, but not about my mother DON'T WORRY MOMMY, YOU WILL KNOW EXACTLY WHO I AM TALKING ABOUT WHEN YOU READ THIS.

I used to have these friends whose mother was fairly insane. And also she did not much like me and she told me I would become allergic to sugar. Um, yes. It would take a long time and many words to explain the extent of her weirdness and it's probably the sort of thing where you'd have to know her to actually grasp it. But suffice to say she was not very good at the letting go and realizing her daughters were not two years old.

So we were friends, me and her oldest daughter. And my sister was friends with the little one so it worked out well in terms of numbers. And the first time we stayed the night at their house it was the next morning and so crazy motherlady went to drop me and my sister off at our house.

Our parents were not home. I was something like thirteen or fourteen so I didn't think this would be such a HUGE DEAL, but she decided not to let us out of the car until we found out when our parents would be home. And my mom was working that day so I called my dad, but not before assuring the crazy motherlady that he was probably just playing raquetball. (In actuality I had no idea if he was playing raquetball or not but really I was just trying to get her to not freak out. Which as you cans see from the following conversation, probably she was going to freak.) Conversation goes something like this...

Me: Dad, hey. Where are you?

Dad: Phoenix.

NOTE THAT PHOENIX IS FOUR HOURS AWAY.

Me: Um, what? When are you gonna be home?

Dad: Oh I wanted to go to the hobby shop; I'll be home tonight. Is everything okay?

Me: Yeah, we're just getting home and their mom wanted to know where you and mom were.

Dad: Oh, okay. Well I should be home tonight around when Mom gets home.

Me: Okay, thanks.

--end conversation--

AND THEN THE CRAZY MOTHERLADY PRACTICALLY HAS A HEART ATTACK WHEN I TELL HER WHERE MY DAD IS. But come on. (a) Him going to Pheonix wasn't THAT big a deal. I mean, he had an airplane. and (b) MY GRANDPARENTS LIVED RIGHT NEXT DOOR. Besides that, (c) we were totally allowed to stay home alone.

But no. Uh-uh. She was having none of that. Apparently when I say "It's okay, we'll be fine; our parents let us stay home alone," I must be LYING. So I am sitting there trying to convince her it is fine and she is busy freaking out and just completely having a fit about us being home alone, which to us was REALLY NOT A DEAL AT ALL, when Taylor the Lovely just up and RUNS OUT OF THE ASTROVAN.

For reals. She just goes, "Okay well bye," and leaps out and runs into the house. And then I'm all flustered and like, "Um, um, I'm going to find out what she's doing," and what I really wanted to do was yell at crazy motherlady, but she was just too scary. (And scary in a really weird way too, because she was this short little skinny nothing of a lady who never rose her voice at all and yet she sent shivers down my spine.)

In the end, after much of her freaking out and HER KIDS FREAKING OUT and them all totally LAUGHING AT MY PARENTS for being such idiots and leaving their MATURE AND RESPONSIBLE FOURTEEN YEAR OLD and WELL BEHAVED TEN YEAR OLD home alone when they had GRANDPARENTS RIGHT NEXT DOOR, I finally convinced her to just drive us next door to our grandparents' house instead of taking us back home with them.

I did NOT want to be around them. It was scary-like, okay?

And the point of all of that was to tell that while my reality was that it was fine for me to be home alone and normal for my dad to be in Phoenix for the day, it was the sort of thing that really made them freak out. And while their reality was that children should never be trusted and never left home alone and parents who do this are obviously incapable idiots, that was the sort of thing that just made me want to either laugh or punch them.

Hm. And here is a tip for all the parents out there: if your kid has a friend and YOU are overbearing and crazy and always hating the friend and her mom, there is a good chance your kid may eventually end up with one less friend. Because it's pretty impossible to be friends with someone when their mother never lets you hang out with them and they don't have email or a cellphone.

So yeah. Realities = different for everyone. Parents = crazy.

Also I have so many more stories about crazy motherlady, because this was JUST THE BEGINNING of her craziness. There is more! Like her telling me I shall become allergic to sugar! And not letting her kids hang out with us because she didn't like talking to me on the phone! And this whole big thing with my sister that Taylor the Lovely is still sensitive about even though it was TOTALLY NOT HER FAULT and crazy motherlady was just being a psycho.

I have been on LJ for several years but since it is Friends only I find myself thinking that maybe that isn't the outlet for me in terms of just writing. I am shamelessly "borrowing" from Stephanie Klein's blog and will be posting the 100 Things About Me because I thought her's were funny and painted a picture of who she is as a person. I will also share with you (whoever you might be, hopefully I will have at least one person reading this) some of the blogs I read daily.

My dream is to move to NYC and become a writer. Yeah, I am a dime a dozen for that little dream but I will continue to dream that little dream. My reality is I suck at managing my money, I love to shop and work for a great company (with a great boss, really I do) but I want something more. I have a cat who rules the apartment and can make me feel quite guilty when I am not there spending time with him. My goals are simple~ I want to use this blog to write just to see if anyone is interested. Eventually I would like to be able to make a little money off of my writing and even move away from Nashville to someplace bigger.

I refused to believe! No! He's only 9 years old for crying out loud! how could he want a girl friend? That's not going to happen. NO! The longer i refuse, the more realizations hit me. A couple of months ago, he no longer wants to wear clothes that has cartoon charracters on them, the he asked my and my parents to buy me these really baggy capri shorts, he's got atleast a dozen now varying from different shades of denims. He wanted to have his hair cut in a certain way (Chris Brown's hair style), he wanted new set of briefs, no more cartoon stuff on them as well. He wanted shoes that big boys wear,  he even wanted his tooth brush to be big boys tooth brush!

Later that evening, I found out that he had been crushing on this girl, a 12 year old girl, a half American, half Filipino girl, Elizabeth ( you must know that anything you breed with a Filipino has a really more than satisfactory result.  How they met? I have no clue about! No wonder why Alvin has been chatting and chatting all the time and, according to my sources (the family paparazzi), little brother dear asked this chick to be his girl friend but unfortunately (fortunate) he got turned down. The girl said that he was only 9! Smart girl!

But this experience taught me to be ready, ready for the day that Alvin will bring home a girl one day and introduce her to me as his girl friend. Despite the fact that we try to discourage him by telling him that being in a relationship is over rated, we cannot stop the kid's growth, it will come sooner or later. We'll just have to see who will survive.

Note for the future girl friend: Beware of the ATEs!!! May the best WOMEN win!

Refine

From the information that I gathered from wikipedia and Google (specifically the first link) I saw that the per capita divorce rate is approximately 0.38%, but that number was taken in May of 2005 and it does not include the aforementioned states who have decided not to record their divorces, nor does it take into account same-sex marriages. So, for the sake of argument, lets just say that the current divorce rate is 0.38% per capita. Let's also treat each marriage as a single unit, instead of trying to accommodate the fact that there are two people involved in a marriage. It's much easier to conclude that "per capita" refers to each marriage instead of each person.

What Next?

So what exactly does it mean to have a divorce rate of 0.38% per capita? Does that mean that each year, you accrued a 0.38% chance to divorce? Well no, the percentages change each year and there's no ability to prove that last year's divorce rate affects your current chance to divorce. Here's the problem with this 0.38% statistic: we're using the amount of divorces in a given year vs. the amount of marriages in that same year, which is bad math. Why would you compare a failed marriage that begin in 1980 and compare it to a new marriage that began in 2008? You wouldn't. The formula is completely absurd. What exactly is a successful marriage anyways? Is it when the husband and/or wife dies? Is that considered a successful marriage? If that's the case, in order to figure out the real success, or failure, rate of most of the marriages, we'd have to monitor a representative amount of marriages (I don't know how many that would be) in a given year and track them until they ended. And then we'd be able to figure out the success and failure rate of marriages FOR THAT GIVEN YEAR!

The Bottom Line

So the bottom line is: THERE IS NO WAY TO DETERMINE THE SURVIVABILITY OF ANY GIVEN MARRIAGE. PERIOD.

Just because the prevailing rate of divorces in a certain year is higher than the last, does not mean that it affects your marriage. To put this another way, the failure of another person's marriage does not demonstrate that your marriage will also fail or has an increased chance of failing.

Your marriage is unique from everyone else's. You cannot determine the mathematical chance of its failure by simply looking at the amount of divorces in any given year.

The "0.38% per capita" means nothing. It cannot convey any information, any judgment, any prediction, or any comfort to anyone because it simply relates the amount of divorces in a given year to the amount of marriages that year.

Ultimately, you and your spouse are the only people who can determine the road your marriage takes. The same goes for relationships. Don't let it go to waste.

-AJ

Yesterday at around 5 in the afternoon an unfortunate event took place in my poor sister's day. She had a couple of friends over at our place to perhaps ease her and her friend's boredom, summer does a lot of boredom to many of the hormonally challenged teenagers. They decided to use the balcony to spill their nasty little secrects at each other and with their annoying giggles here and there, natalie threw a hairball coupled with a dirt or two (really it was just a hairball!) out of the balcony and to her misfortune, an RTA employee was standing underneath our balcony and the hairball fell on his shoulder. This tiny, puny little hairball caused the rather dimwitted ass for a government employee  to be furious, he was really furious beyond imagination. Seeing that this thing made the imbecile angry, my sisters humbly went out of our house to apologize to the good for nothing fool but he refused the apology and threatened the kids to call the police and he did... Minutes later, 2 armed police men arrived accompanied by the idiot (im running out of adjectives to describe him!) hollering somethin in their native tongues and pointing his big, fat, black fingers in accusation at my sisters. They forced to arrest my sisters and their friends despite the fact that the kids were minor and refused to listen to their explanation that it was an honest mistake! They even refused to have me accompany the kids to the police station! I mean, come on! Give me a break! Those kids are MINORS!!!!! I stood firm and told them that they cant take the kids without an adult supervision, I know my legal rights and if they do take the kids without me, i will without a doubt raise a case against them and there's nothing they can do about it because as far as i know, in whichever country you go to, despite the cultures and religious beliefs, no authority can take a minor without parental consent.

I was mad beyond words can explain! They have the nerve to call themselves AUTHORITY when they have no idea what the word means. And much to my anger, a lady who can understand the bullshits the big, fat good for nothing RTA was saying to the police, said that he was lying! He was freaking lying! He told them that the kids were cursing him! The nerve!

Now, what kind of respect can the "future" leaders of the world have on authorities now that they have experienced the injustice they have showed and made them feel? Was it because of our race? Or just the fact that his wife might've not given him something the night before. Or maybe his big, fat, black belly was missing nutrition. At that very moment i wanted to take a scalpel and slice his big, fat, black belly open and put his organs in all the wrong places and close him up and make him walk just as he is coming out of anaesthesia. But then again, God said vengeance is His to make, so I'll leave it in the hands of God.

But can one really blame me for being so angry at these ill mannered beasts? Im an "Ate" that makes me the second mom in the household, I dont want my siblings to be treated by anybody like crap. The authorities did it, that makes them no less than a speck of dust to my sight. No respect is suppose to be given to people like them. Im warning you RTA guy, dont ever roam around my block!

Alyx might not be the smartest or the best looking guy around, but he's definitely got some guts when it comes to talking to people he doesn't know. He'll gladly walk to up a girl he doesn't know and talk to her. Alyx isn't very charming, so she might not be swept off her feet, but she'll be impressed by his courage.

It's been really pissing me off lately too. I mean, if I'm such a great candidate for being a boyfriend, why the fuck do I have to go up to some girl and submit my application to them? I mean, what the hell is so desirable about having the guts to talk to strangers anyways? Why can't the girl come up to me and give me the homefield advantage? This whole dating bullshit is just way out of hand - and by that I mean it's completely illogical and unfair.

It's like having some Senior Engineer post his resumé on Monster.com and not getting a job verses having some idiot custodian personally contacting company recruiters and being offered a Senior position. How fucked up is that? Why would you award someone a job, merely for the fact that they contacted you? You wouldn't; you would award the job to the Senior Engineer like a normal person.

See? That's how life is suppose to work, but it really doesn't work like that. It seems as if the girl is just desperate for someone to talk to her or just so damn fucking lazy that she'll settle for less because at least she made the decision on her terms. The guys are the ones who get ass-fucked when it comes to the dating scene because we're the ones who have to go up to the girl and talk - effectively giving her the homefield advantage.

Here's the thing, when the girl gets approached, she knows that the guy is into her and she is allowed to minipulate and control the situation as she see's fit. The guy is in such a horrible position because he has to convince the girl that he'd be the best candidate for a boyfriend. What kinda fucking lame ass life is that?

For fucking once, I want the homefield advantage in the dating arena. I know it's hyprocritical, but fuck it! I want to be the one who can dictate when, where, why, how, what, and who I date - not the other way around. I want control.

Unfortunately, the only bait for catching any type of girl and having the homefield advantage is to show that you have money - which actually attracts the wrong type of girl. Shit's weak. Life's Weak. What kind of a world do we live in? Just thinking of this whole situation makes me want to vomit.

Why the sun lightens our hair, but darkens our skin?

Why women can't put on mascara with their mouth closed?

Why don't you ever see the headline! "Psychic Wins Lottery"?

Why is "abbreviated" such a long word?

Why is it that doctors call what they do "practice"?

Why is it that to stop Windows 98, you have to click on "Start"?

Why is lemon juice made with artificial flavor, and dishwashing liquid made with real lemons?

Why is the man who invests all your money called a broker?

Why is the time of day with the slowest traffic called rush hour?

Why isn't there mouse-flavored cat food?

When dog food is new and improved tasting, who tests it?

Why didn't Noah swat those two mosquitoes?

Why do they sterilize the needle for lethal injections?

You know that indestructible black box that is used on airplanes? Why don't they make the whole plane out of that stuff?

Why don't sheep shrink when it rains?

Why are they called apartments when they are all stuck together?

If con is the opposite of pro, is Congress the opposite of progress?

If flying is so safe, why do they call the airport the terminal?

Now that you've smiled at least once, It's your turn to spread the stupidity and send this to someone you want to bring a smile to (maybe even a chuckle)...in other words, send it to everyone. We all need to smile every once in a while.

It is the yearning to create something that compels us to pick up a paintbrush, put pen to paper or fingers to keys. What is it? Imagination.

Imagination colours our world with the words we choose to vocalise, the melody we choose to sing or the dance we choose to express.

Imagination is where hope springs eternal when it propels us into unimagined realms of a brighter, more prosperous and peaceful future. It is what encourages us to live in community and seek the isolation of a morning hour to contemplate that small, still voice.

Imagination is where you find your heart and then, if you look a little deeper and imagine without constraint, your soul.

Imagination creates realities. Imagination defies the impossible and gives life to the impropable and, ultimately, the possible.

What is the power of your imagination?

The film is about a guy who bravely declare in a public train that he's looking for true love after realizing that there are about 5 million French women who are single. After his monologue, he asked for a call to action to any woman who would want to take his call, get out of the next station. A lady who's also in his same shoes saw an opportunity that it might be her lucky day. The train stopped, he races to catch her, only to say that it was sketch.

One might look at the film in many ways, it is a cruel joke, a good twist or a perfect example of the realities of life. Incidentally, a mom in the US was indicted for causing the suicide of a 13 year-old girl. She was apparently meddling with her daughter's life and thought that the girl had some grudge against her daughter. She befriended the 13 year-old on Myspace posing as a 16 year-old boy and courted her. The girl was thought that she found a perfect boyfriend in "Josh" only to be spurned after almost a month. She hanged her self after the "break-up" and died the next day.

The art, the Internet, the work or any environment for that matter is good but when playing with emotions, this could certainly lead to a troubling conclusion but at times it could be fatal. As to the short film, it was a sketch but in reality the consequence of such incident could sometimes be devastating... you'll never know.

One small work at a time. That's all we can do.

"Time's funny stuff, Pete."

He asked me questions that seemed somewhat surreal. Are you going back to school, he wanted to know. Maybe he even said "yet." Are you going back to school yet. I despaired. It was the shadow over the heart that comes when you realize you are not being heard or seen, that the person with whom you are speaking does not inhabit the same reality you do.

I said it's expensive, schooling. I spoke to him as if our entire past did not happen and has no bearing on our present or future, and for him that may be so.

Facts? We failed our chances at post-secondary education. The reasons for it are not simple or few. Zoe was the last to surrender that dream, less than a year ago, though it seems much longer. Tempus frangit.

The mythology in our family is that we (Rose et al) are phenomenally stubborn. Once set on an idea, a plan, a goal, we push and push no matter how hare-brained or ill-advised. This view of us reveals more about our family than it does about us. All our lives they've been telling us anything we want is ridiculous, or at best highly unlikely, and they've actively discouraged even the most tenuous of goals or slight movements toward anything we event thought we might want. If opposition alone didn't do it, then mockery and sabotage were employed.

But we haven't been stubborn. We abandoned gymnastics, guitar, dance, and nebulous plans to "be an astronomer" after not all that much discouragement from the parents --- all of these before we were out of grade school. And we wanted those things, gymnastics in particular, strongly and consistently.

We're not stubborn. We believe people, we always have, when they tell us we can't, we never will, we're not ________ enough to _________. The single exception I can think of is piano. We were told repeatedly that we were not talented enough, that it was impractical and a waste of time. Our experiments and forays were mocked, we were told we were too lazy, we showed up to lessons only to have our pained teacher explain that the payments were so far behind she just couldn't teach us anymore until that was sorted. But there was a piano in the house, and we played. When they cut off our lessons, we played. When they moved the piano into a room crammed with junk, we cleared a path to it and we played. Even those of us who couldn't play would find ourselves sitting at the piano bench, hands on the keys, as if for comfort.

When we were teenagers it became harder to shift us when we wanted to do something, though the same tactics were deployed almost without fail. Some decided for ourselves we could go ahead and do things just because they were interesting, we wanted to do or try or learn something. We didn't have to be professional volleyball players in order for playing volleyball to be an acceptable use of our time. The sabotage and retribution went without saying. We stepped around or through it as best we could.

And still, we dropped our desire to major in music the minute someone said "boo." Mom had us convinced for years that we were completely unsuited to driving a car. We gave up things we wanted so easily. Stubborn? Hardly.

And now --- it's true the family has actively discouraged us from taking another bite at higher education. The expense is one thing, particularly if we never finish a degree and get to a money-earning place. We've also crashed very spectacularly, with explosions and flames, when we've tried before. Our ability to deal with high-pressure and high-stress situations (little say with schedules and public transportation and homework assignments and you get the idea) is shot.

But the real sadness is that we don't want university, anymore. Don't want a degree. Don't want to take a class or two. That door is closed, locked, and now blends in almost seamlessly with the wall. In fact, in terms of life goals, we don't want anything. We don't want wealth, or fame, or world travel. We don't want a spouse and we don't want to have children. We don't want a Pulitzer or a Nobel. We would like a career, something engaging and of service to our fellow humans, but what it might be and how in the world we'd manage it.... let's say it seems quite unlikely. Practically, we know that even could we ever re-enter the workforce, we'd be in vast trouble. We have a medium-length list of moderately serious medical problems. No private health insurer would touch us with a barge pole, even if we just signed over our paycheck directly. We can't live without the medications we take. I don't mean we'd be uncomfortable, or crazier, or get sick. I mean we'd get VERY sick, and then we would die.

When people ask me what I want, it confuses me. I want to be safe. I want to be loved, and have people to love in return. I want enough food, and some clothing and books and art supplies. I want my brain to do what I ask it to do. I'd like to be happy. I'd like to be healthy. We have now entered fantasy-land. I'd also like there to be no wars, for every industry to be re-vamped so profit is not the only real consideration, and honest government.

And a hot-fudge sundae.

It makes me sad. We suffered for a couple of years the lack of a piano, but even that.... even that, I don't think anyone wishes for. We have no plans; we have no dreams. We handed them over or watched them break, one by one, until all were gone. There is no place I especially want to visit. There is no large anything I want.

Except I want to want things. Give me myself again. But that's a dream for comprehensible days walking in orderly rows, and predictable causes and effects. We're traveling the other direction now.

By the way, I stumbled upon a book about Warren Buffet and Michael Masterson ... I'm reading them both.

The highlights of Masterson's Automatic Wealth: The Six Steps to Financial Independence:

Step 1. You’re going to face some hard facts. You are not going to get rich by saving 10 percent of your income every month. And you shouldn’t be so foolish as to count on your company’s pen- sion plan or the government to take care of you when you get older. It’s up to you.

Step 2. You’re going to plan to be rich. You can’t wish yourself to wealth, you have to plan for it . . . one detail at a time. I’ll show you not only how I did it but also what has worked for my friends and colleagues.

Step 3. You’re going to develop wealthy habits. The rich are dif- ferent from ordinary people, and it’s not just the money. There are specific behaviors that are likely to make you wealthier, just as there are specific behaviors that are likely to make you poorer.

Step 4. You’re going to increase your income—radically. Forget 3 per- cent or 4 percent raises. I’ll show you how to boost your income 25 percent to 150 percent. And that’s just for starters.

Step 5. You’re going to get richer automatically ...even while you sleep. Getting rich is not just about increasing your income. The true secret to wealth is building equity. I’ll show you how to do it . . . without quitting your day job.

Step 6. You’re going to retire early (if you want to). I don’t believe in retiring. Not really. That’s because I like my work and wouldn’t enjoy life so much without it. But what you do in your retirement years, where you do it, and how many hours you work at it should be entirely up to you. I’ll show you how to
have that kind of control.

Sometimes, I wonder how so many people I know have so many friends that immediately comment on their Facebook, text-message them constantly, and are always there for them. When I look at myself, I see no one. I've stopped calling my family because I don't feel the same about them; not ever since seeing my mother fall down the stairs. Every time I think about her, I can still remember how the hospital smelled like - that antibiotic chemical smell that gripped my mother when I went to pick her up. I know that I shouldn't feel this way. I should be a loyal and devoted son. Things have changed completely for me; my opinion of my family has gone from missing them to I wish none of us ever existed. I just wish I had a normal life, with a normal family, where I was happy and had more friends. I feel so damn lonely. Is this world just a lonely place? I feel like I'll never meet anyone special when I grow up. Everyday, I find myself reminiscing about my days in 10th grade and my last days in 12th grade. Isn't it sad that a sophomore college student is missing his high school years instead of enjoying his college experience? I just want to cry - I honestly just want to crying until someone comes out of the shadows and murders me - takes me away from this horrible horrible reality called, "life." Why...Why is it so damn hard to just keep going? Why is it so hard to wake up in the morning and find something to be happy about? Why can't I be happy like everyone else? Like the people I know? Did I do something wrong in the past life? Why can't I even find comfort in seeing my family anymore?
I'm so hopeless lost in this dread that I can't even find the courage to tell someone close to me about how I truly feel. I'm just a closet softy who, when going out into public, wears nice and expensive clothing in order to hide the fact that he isn't even sure of himself. Can they see it? Can they see right through me? Do they know I'm totally insecure?
I don't know what to do, or how to deal with this issue. I feel like no one out there really cares to hear about it and that there's nothing I can do to help myself.

I am currently trying to walk the path of highly rich and successfu people, and see how will things work. One thing is sure, I'm definitey trying :) and changing my habits of thinking, and even avoiding words related to poverty, chaos, anxiety, and even pain.

Another new and exciting things I am making myself interested in are the lifestyles of the wealthy persons, their possessions and how they do things. Interestingly, I believe I am feeling how they feel, possibly in choosing or deciding on things. Wow, at least! :)

El frenético crecimiento del reality y sus múltiples facetas lo han convertido en el género más polémico y criticado de la televisión contemporánea. La génesis de este formato se encuentra en la creación de concursos donde sus participantes develan toda suerte de intimidades frente a las cámaras. Y más allá de mostrar lo real, la polémica se sitúa en qué tan verdadera y natural es esa realidad mediatizada por el lenguaje de la televisión y condicionada incluso por sus propios protagonistas.

Fuente: Germán Arango. Palabra Clave No.9. Universidad de La Sabana – Facultad de Comunicación Social y Periodismo.

Documento: Realities: de la tele-verdad a la tele-realidad