I think this post will be a rather short one. So I apologize for that. Just thought that this week I’d share a post which has caught my eye.

http://www.psy.fsu.edu/~baumeistertice/goodaboutmen.htm

What’s interesting about this is the acceptance that not everything was created equally. There is indeed a difference between everything that exists. To deny that would be silly. To treat everyone equally is only half of the battle. The real truth is that everyone is flawed. Everyone is perfect. The only thing is that we don’t see the flaws of people and we ignore them and treat them as if they didn’t exist.

Is it safe to do so?

Is it safe to entrust a shorter person with shorter legs a task that would evolutionary be easier for a taller person to accomplish with more ease? When it’s a life or death matter, is it okay to be prejudice? If your survival is on the line, who would you entrust with certain tasks?

And that’s what I found so great about the article. It represents a philosophy which should be fundamental. Rather than disregarding our differences we should embrace them. We should cherish them. They are what makes us each unique.

Wait, I thought I was supposed to talk about the similarities and differences between men and women?

I’ll just leave you with this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lPesKyIhGZg

Seriously, what the fuck is up with all my cheesy music quotations? Who knows? In lieu of the upcoming Coming Out day or whatever it is supposed to be this week, I have decided to dedicate this weeks entry to things that I question about sexuality.

Rather, I’d like to know why it is still so controversial? Why is it that a country such as the United States, which was founded and developed with all these progressive ideas and freedoms in mind came to be so prude and conservative? And in doing so, why is it that we have higher rates of tons of problems than other countries? We are neither happier, or smarter, or anything for that matter.

For starters, let me give you two links:

http://healthland.time.com/2010/09/09/what-the-u-s-can-learn-from-the-dutch-about-teen-sex/

http://thesocietypages.org/socimages/2010/09/06/the-land-of-opportunity-for-sexually-transmitted-infections/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+SociologicalImagesSeeingIsBelieving+%28Sociological+Images%3A+Seeing+Is+Believing%29&utm_content=Google+Reader

The second link is ugly, not just in format, but in content. There is a crazy difference between those stats. And its primarily caused by the inability of people to accept that sex is part of life. It’s how we survived as a species. Because we fuck. And we love to fuck. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in that. There shouldn’t be shame in anything we do, or would like to pursue. Different forms of sex, sex with different people, or multiple people, or people of the same sex. What does it matter? What does any of it matter? If you actually think about it, what is sex?

There is of course several different arguments over which actions would constitute as actually being sex. Does it start with a kiss? Does it start with oral sex? Well, it does have the word sex in it! So it must be! But Bill Clinton would beg to differ. Is it solely an act of reproduction? So then why are people mad at all the gays? They technically can’t have sex with each other! So we’re all good!

If we were to say that it would be constituted by penetration, then what would be the difference between making a fist with one of your hands and fingering it with the other? How come a penis is treated so differently? And so is a vagina? They are, in essence, still just a collection of skin cells, nerve endings, filled with blood and other gooey bits. Yet, it’s perfectly normal to suck on your own finger in public, but try to suck a dick in public, and you get in trouble.

But why is it that we are ashamed even of our own bodies? We hide away from being naked. We have laws in place that make it wrong to expose your genitals. The only reason I can think of was that this was an evolutionary reason. Protecting our own goodies was vital to the continuation of the human race. Makes sense. This would be why the breasts of women are coveted so much, yet men have the same nipples and can get away with exposing them more often. At some point in time, we associated function with value, and with that came the need to somehow protect these assets through a little bit of deception and shame. As kids, most of us were taught that to enjoy these natural things was wrong and sinful.

That’s why I feel we should all just be open about this sort of thing. Let’s treat it the way that it deserves to be treated, simply as an action to be enjoyed and shared. If everyone was open to sex, there would be no confusion. There would be no hate. Only love. Lots of love. And sex. Lots of sex.

Let’s all start having sex. Let US start by having sex.

There are a few things that are really hard to do. One is to find a beginning for myself, the starting sentence in my writing. The other is to defend equality of people and question racism, and most of all, to defend myself, especially with a title like that. And perhaps all is lost already. But hopefully, you have an open mind, and take the time to hear me out on this.

Let me start off by explaining why I chose to name this article so. It boggles me that this is one of the few words that is so fickle in its nature and its intent. Perhaps this should have been an expansion on my post on the nature of words. It could have easily been titled “Cunt,” or “Faggot,” or “Dyke,” or “Spic,” or any other “harmful” word out there in the English language. So why this word?

For starters, part of what interests me in the word is how it is used in two completely opposite ways. It can be used in a friendly manner, such as saying, “You are my nigga.” It can also be used derogatorily, such as saying, “You are a nigga.” What changes it, as George Carlin would argue is the context. However, that link also has a snippet of Richard Pryor, who claims that no one should say the word. Then there is Chris Rock who claims that white folks have to have fulfill certain criteria in order to say it.

So who is right? Well, what exactly is a “nigga” or “nigger” or “nigguh?” However you’d like to spell it. Personally, I prefer nigga, since being from New Yok, I sometimes have no concept of the letter ‘r.’ The cartoon show The Boondocks claims that a nigga is anyone who is ignorant. Chris Rock backs this up by making a distinction between black people and niggas on the basis of ignorance. So I suppose we could start from there. But if it were to be the popular definition of the word in its derogatory sense, then why is it that it’s usually white folks that are not “able” to use the word?

Black people of course can. After all, it was a word whose origin was derived from the color black. People of Spanish, or Latin American descent can too without repercussions, as can be seen for example with the hip-hop artist Fat Joe. In several of his songs, such as “We Takin Over” he says the word.

What I find fascinating about that for example was that part of the protest over people using the word was that it related back to the slavery era in America. Unfortunately, many people are only familiar with the traditional American/English historical background on the slave trade, which is to say, a narrow view on the whole subject. This view ignores the role that other groups of people, such as the Spanish and the Portugese had in the slave trade, which was, that they had started using African slaves before most of the other European countries did. The first slave market was in Portugal as early as 1447. So why is it that people of Spanish descent get away with using the word?

The counter argument to my own claim would be that many of the citizens from Cuba or Puerto Rico (such as Fat Joe) and other Latin American countries were mostly slaves themselves, so it would be difficult to validate their heritage as either being slaves or slave owners. And it’s an argument that is used to deter white folks from saying the word, because they have no concept of what it is to be a slave.

However, that argument has its own flaws. One is that the premise is historically untrue. Even the word slave derives from the word Slav. That is to say, white people were also subjected to slavery far earlier, and for far longer than other races were. That’s not to say that I’m justifying it numerically as if though this were a dick measuring contest, but this does tie into the second flaw of the argument, which is that of time.

Just as the word ‘slave’ isn’t offensive to those of Slavic descent due to the extreme passage of time, and the evolution of the word to encompass those of the entire human race, rather than just the Slavs, so too has the word ‘nigga’ progressively begun to change into a word that can describe all peoples of all colors. The 13th Amendment which was passed in 1865 abolished slavery. The Civil Rights Movement is trickier to pinpoint when it ended officially, as there are still outbreaks of racially charged protests up to this date. That is to say, there is no one alive who would actually know what it was like to be a slave during the mid-19th century. However, there are plenty of people who know what it is like to be treated differently due to their race. There are plenty of people who have been hurt by this word.

And it is not my intention to propagate its use just for the sake of free speech. We must all respect one another and respect each others wishes and love one another. Just as you hopefully wouldn’t bring up the subject of rape to a rape victim, you wouldn’t want to bring up a sensitive issue to those that have been personally affected by it. What I am saying, or suggesting, is that within the next few years, the constant desensitization of the word thanks in part to mass media will cause a drastic shift in how the word is used, much like all other words. And to ban the word would be silly. It is, after all, just a word. The original meaning will have been lost in time, and it will be used much more ignorantly with a blatant disregard of the past. This is a trend that has always been, and can only continue. And then one day, we will all be niggas, regardless of color.

Death. Woo! What a fun topic. Though, this will once again be more or less a continuation of previous posts. There’s a lot to talk about here. Different cultures, different ideals, and how they have all handled death. How it affects who we are and how we are shaped by it. How it changes our behavior once we have thought about it.

Let’s start with me, because let’s be honest here, at this point in time, you are probably in love with me. Yet, you know I am going to die. This makes you heartbroken. You can’t see me go. You don’t want to see me go. But it will happen. There is no denying it. Everyone dies. I think. Me. Oh, and you too! But why is it that when I say things that are so real, and true, that most people in our society will choose to reject that claim. Why has death become taboo to talk about? Or rather, why has death in a personal perspective improper to talk about in casual conversation? Is it because people are uneasy or unwilling to accept it?

The ancient Egyptians are a well-known example for their belief in the afterlife. They had a fascinating view of death, and they had intricate ceremonies for proper burial. I am assuming, that if you were to talk about death then and there, that it would have been a welcome conversation. A family members death would not be a grim affair. The funeral procession, I would imagine would be a more joyous event than the American standard. But don’t quote me on that, at least not until I get my flux capacitor up and running. I believe it was Nick Swardson who had a stand up skit on his own funeral. It should be a fun affair, mixed with techno music, and possibly cocaine.

At the very basic level of understanding, death is a failure of yourself to function. Your organs fail, or are blown up, and shred to pieces. Whatever it is, you stop seeing, hearing, feeling. So what do you care what happens to your body afterwards? You won’t know. Because you are dead. Eventually, down the road, your body will have been destroyed by nature. By time. Why worry about a proper burial? Fuck it. Save time and money. Just dump people out in random places. You won’t care. Other people might, but fuck them too. There is nothing you can do to escape the inevitable.

But people tend to try to create a legacy with which to outlive the demise of their physical body. Whatever your view on death is, whether or not there is reincarnation or Heaven or Hell, the only physical thing that we can do to have our names outlive ourselves it to create a legacy. To make an impact of the world. It doesn’t have to be something on an international level, but just enough to affect one life. That life will have been forever changed thanks to your actions. This is partly why I feel unnecessary to live for myself. I can get all the money in the world, and all the women in the world (and believe me, I can get all the women in the world) but after I die, what would it have been for? Where would all those women go? Back to their own dull and dreary lives that I had provided an escape for. However, if I did something monumental, it would change the whole timeline of things. Whether or not it was meant to happen, I would have now been procured in someone elses memory. Their memory is all I would have, and that is more than enough. It is similar to the constant proverbs of someone living after their death through a persons heart or mind.

Think about it. History’s greatest names. How did they come to be remembered? They had global impacts on the world. Sure, there are records of all the soldiers who have fought during wars that changed the status quo, but it was the leaders who obtain all the credit. That isn’t to say that the many deaths will never be remembered, but as I have mentioned before, their sacrifices will fade over the passing of time. Even your effects on people would have faded over time. So what does anything matter? Why even try for greatness? What good would it ever do? So do we live for ourselves, making ourselves happy? Or do we try to live for other people?

Because unfortunately, it is impossible to do both.

I recall when I first started this project of mine. I had thought that it would be the most rigorous exercise of my mind that I would ever put it through. I still feel that way sometimes. It’s tough to always abide by the rules and regulations that you have set on yourself. Such as how I said I wouldn’t be writing about myself. But it turns out, I fail at life.

Photography and its nature always intrigued me. Not the professional level of photography, but the standard day-to-day snapshots of events and everyday life. I have always felt it unnecessary to stand around and pose for pictures. A person once asked me once to get into a group picture so that they can each remember the moment. All I could think of when I thought of that moment was that all we were doing was standing around and looking at a camera. There was nothing to that particular moment. Nothing to remember. Well, this is somewhat a lie, as I am recalling the moment to you as of right now, but the rest of the day is a blur. And that’s the problem with these forced, posed photos.

The best type of photos that there are in the world are those that are candids. The ones where you do indeed capture a moment of insane debauchery. The ones that convey a feeling, an emotion, or an action. Standing around waiting for a timer is stale and stagnant and fucking lame. If I was somewhere and I had a great time, I would remember those moments for what they were, when and where they happened. You don’t need a photo for that. I don’t need a photo for that.

It’s like capturing the game winning shot of a basketball game. If you saw it, you wouldn’t believe it. If you caught on camera, good for you too. The problem is, that like your photo, if you get it developed on film, your memory will fade, and the significance of that event would have passed from your life. There is no reason to hang up on this event anymore. The past is the past.

So far, I have only mentioned the photos that captured the good in people. The great moments that we are fond of. Reflections of exciting adventures that we have undertook. There is, however, another aspect of photos and memories that have intrigued me as well, and these are the bad ones. For starters, the same rule of candids apply. You couldn’t have asked Phan Thi Kim Phuc to pose as she ran naked after a napalm attack. Her photo was substantial in that it conveyed her suffering at that exact moment in time. It was a remarkable portrayel of the Vietnam War. It’s quite the coincidence that September 11th has passed just yesterday, and this is my 11th entry. But let’s take this event as an example. For those of us who have lost a loved one, we don’t need a photo of the event to remember it happening. We know what it was to suffer through extreme loss. But as time fades the impact of the loss, and you have, hopefully, come to terms with it, so too, has time faded away the photos as well as your memories. There are plenty of people out there that are still alive and remember the attacks on Pearl Harbor for instance, yet no one is angry at the Japanese when the anniversary of the event comes around. That event has passed long ago. It has faded from memory. And it will fade from memory.

So, there are “good” events and “bad” events that happen in our lives. It affects who we are and what we do. However, despite the nature of all of these events, they will all fade over time. Whether you have just come out of your Senior Prom with your High School sweetheart, you will forget that moment over time because it will be foreshadowed by a possible grander moment of happiness, such as a wedding of some sort. Or perhaps you have lost a relative or spouse or loved one. That moment too will be lost in time. Either time will pass and you will move on and find a new source of happiness in your life, or of course, you could just go crazy and die. The choice is yours. But either way, memories, I feel, are designed to fade only so that you can have something to look forward to in the future. It is a beacon of hope. It allows you to have a relative comparison from the past to the future. So forget clinging on to the past too much. You can’t help the inevitable passing of time. The death of memory or any sort of remembrance. But hey, at least remember my words. They’ll be all I have left when I have nothing else.

What a landmark entry for me. Ten. Ten whole weeks of my life. Can you believe it? In lieu of this, I shall make this a landmark post. Hopefully, this will surpass in length and content all other previous entries. And perhaps I shall shed some light on my mentality concerning worldly things some more. That seems reasonable.

Actually, that is exactly what I shall do. It has been brought to my attention, that what I believe in, and perhaps you have noticed this, is moral relativism. That is to say, I don’t believe there is a fundamental right or wrong that hasn’t somehow been affected by how we were raised or where and when.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moral_relativism

And there are a couple of reasons for that. Different cultures over different periods of time have had different views on the matters of death, sex, love, marriage. Everything that I have so far mentioned in earlier posts. Some cultures embrace polygamy while others favor monogamy. I am not one to judge them for their views. I may not agree with them, but I won’t judge them. Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? Of course I judge people. I hate people who judge other people. Yet, I just judged another person. Therefore I hate myself.

And this is why people sometimes see me as offensive. I say things and do things that aren’t acceptable by society’s standards. Though, deep down, I still feel a pang of guilt, I try to focus on the guilty pleasure I am partaking in to take my mind off of it. I say things that you aren’t used to, perhaps, and it can be a scary thing. But fuck it.

http://www.personal-development.com/chuck/evil.htm

Does this make me an evil person though? Does me breaking you down, and offending you, and ridiculing you make me a bad person? Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy offending people. It’s fun to know that I can offend someone, and they can’t offend me. But, if a person learns from what I say or do. If I hurt them for their own benefit, are my actions then considered good?

I found Chuck Gallozzi’s article fascinating. And really, there is no purpose for me in writing any more than I should have to, but Chuck outlines several different situations. And you really never know what to believe in, until you’ve been in that position yourself. Due to this, what is to say, that if you were born anywhere else, your beliefs wouldn’t have been drastically different?

So what is evil? The inner nerd in me would like to quote Star Ocean 2 and say that evil is to live backwards. For, if you spell live backwards, you spell evil. Woah! Mindblowing! I bet you just jizzed your pants. And God, is dog backwards! And racecar is racecar! Palindromes! But really, someone who is evil just goes against what you feel is morally right or wrong. Gays to the homophobic are evil and vile and disgusting. Anyone notice that vile is an anagram for evil? Yeah, anywho, and the pro-life folks think that anyone who gets an abortion is a murderer and should be banished in hell. Though, come to think of it, not everyone who shares those views share it to that extreme. There are of course, exceptions to every set of people, but it seems to me, that we just always accept those who we have common beliefs with and reject those who don’t.

And this isn’t groundbreaking shit I’m saying here either. This is pretty common sense stuff. I just believe that a lot of people haven’t realized this. We cast out people who are different from us, yet we haven’t taken the time to see things logically, from their perspective. Maybe there are universal morals that we should uphold? Like killing a person. Who are we to deny or take another person’s life? Unless that person is a pussy, and completely defenseless.  Is killing a person evil? What if they agree to a duel? I mean, there are so many fucking possibilities in that case alone!

And no one thinks relatively to other people anymore. There is so little logic and thought these days. Due to this, I’m the crazy one. I’m the evil one. What is that nonsense?! All I’m saying is, if I kill you cause you disagree with me, I’ll just use this as court evidence of my mental instability.

Oh, everyone saw that one coming. I am not a clever person at all. But this doesn’t change that people seem to all have differing definitions of love. Everyone has different opinions of it. Different views. Who do we love? Who do we hate? How do we define it?

It’s just like how people throw around the word love, or luv, or what have you, there seems to be only appropriate times the word can be used. One is in a joking matter, and is the easiest to overlook. Simply shouting it out forcibly voids any meaning from the words. If I am in your class or in your shop, and you give me a pen or a bagel, or your heart, and I say, “Thanks. I love you.” You would either chuckle with amusement or think I am a creep. The second is between friends with no physical attraction. This is also quite easy to do, for what harm can come out of saying it? There can be no misconstruction of the words. You are my friend. I love you. But only as a friend. You are too ugly for me to love with all my heart.

But then, things get tricky. Once there is some physical attraction, or contact. A kiss. A fuck. Whatever. That’s when saying that word becomes a scary thought. What if you were friends to begin with? What if you have said that you loved your partner before you had sex with them and your sex was a result of a happy accident. Something that most likely will never be duplicated. Suddenly, saying that you love this person becomes awkward. You don’t want to confuse sex for love. You don’t want the other person to believe you are confusing sex with love. But you still love your friend as a friend.

So what is the difference between the love of a friend and the love of a lover if you can fuck the both of them in the same exact manner? And you can fuck them in the same manner. What is the difference in the amount of trust and faith you put in someone? You trust your best friend, right? Unconditionally? You love that person? You would give up your life to them? Perhaps. Depending on the quality of your best friend. Wouldn’t you do the same for your lover? Your spouse? Your parents? Your siblings? And I’m sure you don’t fuck your family members. Though if you do, I’ll pass no judgement, what is the difference in the love there?

I’d like to know, what people mean when they tell me that they love me. Wouldn’t it be better if we all had just one definition of it. A standard one. One that is easy to measure. The current definitions of love given by Oxford and Merriam-Webster are vague. Strong affection, attraction, tenderness, yadda yadda. But it is never quantized in any way. It would be great if there could be a single action which can be used to determine what love is. Which is why I propose self-sacrifice. Love is when you would go against what would benefit yourself in order for the person that you love to benefit. It doesn’t even have to be a big sacrifice, but just placing another person’s priorities first. That is love. Thinking about them when you walk by an object at a store, and then sacrificing your money to get it, just to make them happy. That is love. And I love you.

What do words mean to you? How much power do you associate with them?  Words are one of those abstract, powerless, yet somehow infinitely controlling objects. It is one of those things that we like to play around, throwing them around senselessly, not understanding their power when it is to our benefit, and hoarding them selfishly when we are the ones that are to be hurt.

I think, this is perhaps the direction I wanted to take with talking about the power that promises contain. It’s not simply that something is said to a person, no. That is not what give words their power. It is all in how they are said.

http://www.220.ro/funny/Penn-Teller-Bullshit-Profainity/bOSnUR756k/

Of course, they also mentioned George Carlin, who had a great examination of words. But I don’t just mean profanity. Then I’d be a biter. I wouldn’t be hip. So, rather, I’d like to examine something that bugs me with this whole concept of words. What a surprise! Isn’t that the purpose of the blog? Yes! Indeed!

I love you. I luv u. Love ya. What’s the difference between any of them? Does one have more meaning than the other? I’m not sure. On paper, they shouldn’t. The subject is the same. The action is the same. Everything is the same. Then why do people treat it as if though it is any different? Is one more innocent than the next? Same goes for so many other things. What is the difference between calling someone cute, gorgeous, or beautiful? Society has reserved the word beautiful with an emotional pretext to it. But everyone is beautiful! Except you.

What about the opposite though. Are there certain things that are acceptable to say in some situations, but aren’t in others? So, I may be biting off of Carlin here with profanity, but even with implying certain actions. Like if I were to say that I would like to kill myself, plenty of you would be offended. Or if I were to say I want to fuck some teenage girl. There is no elegant way of putting those sorts of situations, and even if you were to put it in eloquent terms, the meaning of your words would be considered offensive.

Such is the hypocrisy of words and ourselves once again. We will always say things and analyze things differently just because it suits us. We also don’t always think of what we say sometimes. Do we ever think? I wonder, if you have never met me, what would you think of me? Assuming all you know are these quick little posts, would you judge my character? Would you analyze the words in which I use here to gauge me? I wonder.

Rules. Hearts. An underage girl’s hymen. What do these things have in common? They are all meant to be broken. Promises, however, are not. Promises are the essence of our being. They bring everything together. They drive our world.

If we were to recap for a bit, I don’t feel like there are any solid grounds when it comes to being in a relationship. The only exception being marriage, which I don’t believe in either. One of the fundamental reasons why I believe marriages are treated a little bit different is because it is a genuine promise between two people to remain faithful.

This is perhaps the hardest it has ever been for me to articulate my thought. Perhaps it is because of the realization that I have broken a promise I have made. If you were careful and observant, you will, or already have noticed it. But anywho, I promised myself I’d finish this post, and I shall at least keep one of my promises.

I suppose it all arises from my cynicism and hypocrisy. That seems fair, doesn’t it? It all comes out of this unspoken respect I have for people, even though I hate most of the people I meet. But, everyone deserves a chance, and everyone deserves the most that you can give, until they give you a reason not to. Because of that, I do my best to keep my promises.

What were to happen if I don’t? Well, then I wouldn’t be too much of a good friend or a good person. Rather, I’d be a good for nothing. I’d lower what future expectations people have of me. And I guess trust is a silly thing. Once you lose it, it takes years to rebuild to its former glory. Even then, it isn’t fully restored. It perhaps never will.

All it takes is one mistake.

Think about it from your perspective. You don’t like it when people break promises to you, right? Of course not! You hate it! Sure, sometimes you expect it, but fuck, it hurts. It frustrates you, angers you, makes you want to go on murderous rampages. A promise puts faith in the other person that they will deliver on an agreement. So when that promise is broken, your faith is lost.

All it takes is one slip.

It doesn’t even have to be a major fuck up either. A person flaking out on you last minute for undetermined reasons wouldn’t seem like a big deal, but then you have to wonder, how genuine were they to you when they first made plans? A common theme these days for people to bitch and moan about is how people promise to hang out with someone who they haven’t seen in forever, yet never deliver. Especially on social networks, where it is easy to reconnect with people after a long period of time, people have this drive to try to reconnect and talk to people, and possibly see them. They don’t understand the reality of the situation, which most of the time is that it takes a lot more than a few words to actually see a person. And again, I am guilty of such actions as well from time to time, but in the end, I tend to deliver or make up for it. I try to atone for broken promises. I have gone out of my way, sacrificing much, all for the sake to keep a promise. Because if I broke one, you would see me differently. You wouldn’t trust me to uphold future promises. In turn, the effort that you give into any future relations with me will diminish. And I will lose you.

All it takes is one broken promise.