This is the story of the night I partied hard on the last Friday night I spent in Florence, Italy. Those of you who knew me in high school (whom this little tale is really written for) may not believe it, but trust me. Every word is true, and it was hysterical.

Almost our entire study abroad group went, so, nearly twenty six people. We started off with a sparkling wine, shared around while we waited at the bus stop.

The first bar of the night was spacious, friendly, and Irish. So, perfect :P We commandeered a whole room, made friends with random people and took pictures with them, fought off an old lady stripper, and I downed, in chronological order, part of a Kilkeney, a red bull and voda, a jack and coke, and a deliciously fruity sex on the beach. Along with tastes of everybody else's drinks, of course. The conversation was eclectic and the company was wonderful. Fun times. But I wasn't smashed... yet.

The second bar was the highlight of the night. Thanks to a misunderstanding I ended up with an entire bottle of cider. When no one wanted to share I just shrugged and drank it all myself. Well, the first half, because then we were distracted by Irish Car Bombs. Who knew I could chug that fast? It was, as one of the guys says, "...DUHlicious!" That was probably the point where I gave up and when people asked me how I was, started answering them cheerfully, "Drunk as shit!" I finished the cider and helped cheer Brad on as he out-chugged the bartender.

In a move that strongly reminded me of [Irishman], Brad promised to look after me, though he was drunker than I was. After our brief stay at the third bar, where there was no drinking (on my part) but much uncoordinated dancing, this resolution was put to the test. Ignoring the more sober warnings of one of the other guys, we staggered off in search of the previous bar. Why, I have no idea. This is all very fuzzy. We ended up lost on the streets somewhere, asking for directions from someone whom I want to say was a police officer, but was probably a cab driver. Or just some random guy in a car. There was a can or two of beer in there Brad picked up, which thankfully I was too drunk to taste, and we never found the bar, but I did manage to re-twist my already sprained ankle and scrape a hole in my knee falling off the curb. Brad carried me til I could put weight on it again, and miraculously we met up with some other people at a bus stop. I guess we gave the bar up for lost.

We had a trilingual conversation on the way home. I could no longer tell the difference between Spanish, Italian, and English, but it all made sense, so it was all good. Eventually I passed out, unintentionally using Brad as a pillow.

We made it back to the Villa alive and mostly well. I downed a bottle of water faster than I'd chugged the car bomb earlier, and passed out again. Until 8 a.m. this morning, when I woke up dehydrated and conscious of the hole in my knee, but otherwise ready and raring to go. And the best part? Completely hangover free.

It was the most amazing time ever. Honestly. Good people, good drinks, and a great way to start off our last weekend in beautiful Firenze. I'm going to miss this place.

And it's cheap drinks.

Disclaimer: This is far from my best work. Just a response to annoying Twilight fanatics, written on the fly because something had to be said. I lack time, energy, and inclination to make it better. So take it as it is ;)



Top Ten Reasons Not to Be a Vampire
Or, ‘why Twilight fanatics get on my nerves’


So you think vampires are cool. They’re suave, good-looking, drive shiny Volvos and fall in love with humans with surprising frequency. They’re mysterious, powerful, and, not to mince words, sexy.

Or so goes the modern misconception. The point of this essay is to explain why vampire-centered universes like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Twilight, and the novels by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes are illogical, inaccurate, and perpetuators of a destructive modern myth: the coolness and desirability of evil.

But before I begin, and before anyone can start ragging on me again, I have to set the record straight. I used to be a fan of Atwater-Rhodes; still own most of the books, in fact. Demon in My View and In the Forests of the Night were two of my favorite books for years. I’ve watched extensive hours of Buffy, seen Dracula 3000 and Van Helsing, read Interview with a Vampire, The Historian, the original Dracula, and various snippets about the original beginnings of the legends of vampires. In short, it’s safe to say that, for the most part, I know what I’m talking about. What I have not read is Twilight, but I don’t have to—I’m not critiquing the story or the storytelling, merely its premise concerning the coolness of vampires, which, thanks to my obsessive friends and endless streams of Facebook flair, I know far too well.

With that settled, let’s move on: top ten reasons not to be a vampire. (Please note the order is not necessarily that of degrees of importance. Several seemed to tie for number one, for example, so I simply listed them in an order hopefully conducive to lucid reading.)


Number 10: Blood.

Blood: it’s icky. Vampire writers these days like to go on about how sweet it tastes, but anyone who’s ever gotten a cut in their mouth or sucked a painful paper-cut ought to know better.

Vampires are often construed as glamorous, but sucking blood is far from that. In fact, it’s something certain drug addicts do when severely messed up. When put like that, how many of you Twilight fans are up for a round of hemoglobin sharing?

That aside, why is it that vampires take blood? It could have been anything else, but it’s not; in fact, it’s one of the few constants across variations on the legend.

In his novel Hogfather, Terry Pratchett uses an old bit of folklore, a belief about “magic so old it isn’t even magic anymore.” If you take a bit of someone—teeth, hair, nails, anything—you can control them. In his novel Carpe Jugulum, which features the “modern vampyres” of Uberwald, the victims of vampires become docile, like cattle—completely under the control of their oppressors.

So the taking of blood is partly about power.

It’s also, as the methods of obtaining it show—assault, murder, seduction, deceit—about glorifying “the beast.” The Beast is Terry Pratchett’s term for the dark, animal place and rage inside a man; the part that doesn’t listen to reason, the pure instinct and predator factor that is fundamentally a part of man, but also, most importantly, fundamentally mostly under control. To embrace the beast completely, to the exclusion of all else, is to reject what makes you most human. (To take an example from the new Batman movie: when Batman struggles to resist killing the Joker, he’s battling the beast. When the Joker does what he does—he is the beast. In a twisted sort of way.)

Sucking blood is also the work of parasites, such as ticks, leeches, and mosquitoes, just to name a few. Vampires are parasites with intelligence—which ought to be a contradiction. Intelligence exists in part to give us the ability to choose right or wrong. Vampires by nature are inherently evil, paired with a parasitic nature; hence the underlying contradiction in most modern vampire literature.

In a Buffy episode, she tells some potential Slayers this: “He has to kill to live. That tells you everything you need to know about him.” The “intelligent parasite” theme violates “traditional” morality (that is, Christian and Christian-based) as well as morality conceived of in other systems, such as Robert M. Pirsig’s “morality as evolutionary process” theory. If a vampire is not a higher life form than a human, then it is immoral for said parasite to destroy humanity.

Not to mention, a vampire’s blood is entirely taken from other beings, which raises another interesting point: this “being” is a fraud, an imitation of life, without its own claim to the life force; a patchwork of stolen moments from those who do live. A vampire is a thief of the lowest order: a thief of the divine life-spark. Theologically, this makes all vampires a part of Satan.

Lastly, blood is the life force itself, the driving power behind our biological existence. Vampires steal it away; they are inherently opposed to life. Assuming that life is good—using whatever argument you wish to arrive at that conclusion, from evolutionary to theological—and seeing as how vampires, by their very biological requirements to “survive” must oppose life, and take it away—this places vampires firmly on the “evil” side of the game board.

Which brings me to:


Number 9: Corpses – Yours and Others.

Biologically, a vampire simply doesn’t function. There’s no way. Not even “Magic” (a highly overused and misconstrued concept to begin with) can explain the fact that a vampire, whose heart does not beat and whose blood (entirely taken from other beings) does not flow would fall apart and rot and otherwise be messy; that even if something “supernatural” is holding this being together does not change the nature of flesh and blood, and what happens when the two die.

If you were to be a vampire, you’d have to get used to other people’s corpses, as well, not just your own molding carcass. One of the most disturbing scenes I found while watching Buffy occurred in an episode that flashed back to Angel and Spike’s early acquaintanceship. They are riding in a carriage with the bloody-necked corpses of a would-be bride and groom, still in wedding regalia. A vampire is a murderer of happiness.

The point of death is that it is fundamentally different from life (although not necessarily its opposite.) A vampire is considered “undead,” but that is a meaningless term. A vampire sleeps, eats, walks, talks, and, according to some, falls in love. How is this any different from life? It’s simply a different kind of life (and/or the devil’s version. Maybe a good comparison here for what I mean is in Tolkien’s The Silmarilion, where the first evil guy “creates” the orcs.)

In Terry Pratchett’s satirical (and wise) Discworld novels, a side character, a zombie named Reg Shoe, tries to rid the city of Ankh-Morpork of prejudice towards the “differently alive” with inspirational slogans like “Undead yes, Unperson no!”

What does it really mean to be not human? Why is a vampire not human? Biological factors aside, today’s popular vampires are, in fact, human. Yet also “evil” and “soulless.” Hence the contradiction. The point that is that people are either people, or not; you can’t be pure evil and human enough to love and hate both.

Or, in the words of Jim Kirk: “You know what, Spock? Everybody’s human.”


Number Eight: Selfhood and Justice

In one flashback Buffy episode, Angel tells Spike, “You can take what you want, but nothing is ever yours.”

In short, this is a horrible way to have to live. It speaks of a world—an existence—without trust, morality, or fairness. The only rules are the ones you make, and they are going to constantly be in conflict with the rules everyone else is making, because they are all, to a vampire, based on pure self-interest. The truly shortsighted and selfish kind of self-interest, that is, which thinks it must stomp on everyone else’s in order to survive.

To illustrate that point, a parable that someone once told me: There are two tables, each exactly the same, filled with all kinds of delicious food. Both tables are filled with people hungry and ready to eat, but there’s one problem: they cannot bend their arms to bring their forks to their mouths. Here is the difference between the two tables: at one, it’s utter chaos, each man fighting against each other and the inevitable, unable to reach the food despite all their efforts. At the other, all is calm and cheerful, and everyone is eating—because they’ve learned to feed each other.

A healthy society or individual is one who has more or less learned to feed himself by feeding others. A vampire’s very nature is completely opposed to this arrangement, however. A vampire is not only a social anarchist, but an anarchist of the soul, as well.


Number Seven: Murder

Another example from the Buffyverse: In one episode, Dawn has gone to hang out with Spike, and he’s telling her a story about how he terrorized some people. He’s killed everyone except a small girl hiding in a coal bin, and Dawn is hanging on his every word, waiting for the bloody climax of the anecdote, when a furious Buffy stalks in. Spike tries to cover his mistake, ending the story with himself as do-gooding hero: So I got the little girl out, cleaned her up, and gave her to a nice family where she didn’t get locked in coal bins anymore. Buffy, of course, doesn’t buy it, but even more disturbing than Spike’s obvious pleasure in the memory of his sick actions is Dawn’s response. “That’s lame!” she says.

Lame? It’s lame when he doesn’t get to finish his reign of terror? It’s lame when an innocent little girl doesn’t suffer a cruel death at the hands of a twisted maniac?

When you’re the one being persecuted, when the tables are turned, everything is different. Then it’s not “lame” when you’re spared, it’s “unfair” when you’re not. Our generation spends all its time in its heads (the internet doesn’t help with this)—everything sounds fun from a distance, and then you get faced with it up close, and suddenly it’s not so fun anymore.

Hardly anyone seems to notice anymore these days, but life is precious. All life. Here are a few reasons why:

First - It’s the first, fundamental, foremost building block of the universe/human universe. The one natural resource we can’t create or synthesize for ourselves. Even cloners start with what’s there, and AI isn’t human, or, depending on who you’re talking to, the case, and the definition, “real.”

Second - Because we value it. What we value (in some cases) takes on value.

Third, and most importantly - Life is precious because Being is Good. All things strive for what is good, on whatever evolutionary level they may be, whatever definition of good they bow to. Our cells and genes propagate because reproduction, the continuation of their kind, is a good hardwired into their genes; evolutionists say we strive for life because our genes tell us to; theologians and philosophers might agree that we seek the good and/or life because in it we come across a spark to that which is beyond life: the divine. (And what is a vampire’s “life,” if it is only evil? A “life” without that divine spark – i.e., hell; damnation. But that will be discussed below.)


Number six: Souls

The mistreatment of the concept of the soul is one of my greatest pet peeves. Vampires are supposed to be soulless, but has anyone thought about what that really means?

It means nonexistence. It means there is no “you” any longer. In short, J.K. Rowling got it right: as a soulless person, you’re an empty husk.

Yet here these soulless creatures are, walking, talking, having personalities and otherwise acting human.

In Buffy, especially, the misuse of the concept is particularly grating. It seems that to be a vampire is to be soulless; without a soul means to be evil and incapable of love; but to have one doesn’t mean you stop being a vampire, it’s more like gaining a conscience. A soul and a conscience is not the same thing. A conscience is, in part, formed by society, and part an “inherent moral sense” (to borrow James Q. Wilson’s phrase.) You can ride your moral sense into the ground, but there’s no “on/off” switch for it.

In short, modern vampire legends really abuse the concept of good and evil, blurring the lines and confusing the issue until it doesn’t matter at all anymore. Which sounds great, until something truly important in real life happens; and then followers of this thought pattern are completely incapable of meeting the challenge.


Number Five: Eternal Damnation

There’s a big misconception floating around that paints God as the big bearded father-figure in the sky who condemns people to Hell, seen as a big fire pit Down Stairs if they don’t do what he says.

This is not how it works, and that’s not what hell is.

Hell is a choice. You can’t be “condemned” to it against your will, an innocent prisoner victimized by an unfeeling rule-and-punishment legal system, rejected by God forever. Hell is what happens when you make the choice to reject God. The definition of Hell is “absence of God.”

Hell, like Heaven, is God giving people what they want. If people want an existence without truth, justice, morality, order—God—then He will give it to them. Theologians, philosophers, and Average Joes can argue all they want about what “rules” constitute morality (a badly worded concept in its own right, but that’s another subject), but no matter where the final truth on that matter really lies, that doesn’t change the fact that Hell—eternal damnation—is the experience of total Divinelessness.

Vampires are a contradiction on this count too, because while supposedly damned, are still in a Divine world—for God is everywhere in creation, for God is goodness, and creation is Good.

Which brings me to:


Number Four: Loveless Evil

Vampires are true evil; true evil cannot love. This is closely related to the section on damnation, because since God is love, an existence without God is existence without love.

If you cannot love, you’re incapable of truly enjoying anything, or any good feeling. Possibly, depending on how you want to argue the nature of emotions, you’re incapable even of hate: you’re mindless, a force of chaotic destruction; a tool of Satan.

And yet, fans of Twilight, and Buffy, and etc, want to say, in the books these vampires do love! They’re… practically people! They’re good!

Sure they are. In the fantasy. But there’s nothing holding that fantasy together. It’s pure mirage—and a dangerous one.

A very intelligent philosopher once told me that Milton made a mistake when he wrote Paradise Lost, in making his fallen Lucifer a more interesting character than the good guys, from which I draw this conclusion: Milton made it seem like evil could be related to, but an evil you can empathize with is not pure evil, because then it’s partly human. Humans have always been the middlemen, between angels and demons, animals and gods.

It’s a dangerous mirage because it makes us forget that. What would you do, if confronted with a real life vampire? Most likely be led to your death, imagining your dark Prince Charming had come for you at last.

There are no Edward Cullens, there are no Angels or Spikes. There are only people, the angels that save them, the fallen angels that fight them, and the demons they create.


Number Three: Backwards Power

Let’s break it down – what’s really the allure with these modern vampires? Power; sexiness; glamour? In “real life” there would be none of these, although, like so often in our lives, there might be an illusion of power.

“Sexiness” is really a subdivision of power—control over another person via lust. What these vampires really stand for, what you’re really idolizing, is the “honest criminal.”

He’ll look you in the eyes, tell you exactly how he’s going to rob you, and while you’re laughing at his wit and honesty, he’ll take you for all you’ve got. (Idea courtesy Terry Pratchett’s Going Postal.)


Number Two: Immortality and Beyond

Live forever? No thanks. And yet they can “die,” by stakes and by fire – another contradiction – so what happens afterwards? Since by nature vampires cannot repent (like fallen angels—a choice made instantly for all eternity because of their nature and timeless existence) they must go wherever damned human souls go. Or if they never die? What then? A “hell on earth” until the end of time?

Immortality: not all it’s cracked up to be.


Number One: And the number one reason not to be a vampire is…

Not easily summed up by a catch phrase, unfortunately. So bear with me through one more analogy.

In C.S. Lewis’s classics about Narnia, the (chronological) first book, The Magician’s Nephew, features a young boy who wants to save his terminally ill mother. Aslan sends him on a quest that seemingly is unrelated. He is to find a walled garden, far beyond the boundaries of the newly-created Narnia, and, entering by the gate, to pluck a golden apple from a tree. This apple, once planted, will grow a tree that will protect Narnia from the evil this young boy inadvertently brought to Narnia in the from of Queen Jadis, formerly of the world Charn, who would later become the more familiar villainess The White Witch.

The boy finds the walled garden, and the apple; he also finds Jadis there. She entered without permission, climbing the wall, and ate of the fruit. Part of the garden gate’s inscription reads, “For those who steal or those who climb my wall / Shall find their heart’s desire and find despair.” Later, Aslan says that since the Witch ate an apple without permission, “All the rest are now a horror to her…The fruit is good, but they loathe it ever after…Things always work according to their nature. She has won her heart’s desire; she has unwearying strength and endless days like a goddess. But length of days with an evil heart is only length of misery, and already she begins to know it. All get what they want; they do not always like it.” (Emphasis mine.)

Vampires are seen as cool for the same reason the Jadis became powerful by sneaking into the walled garden to eat the apple; for the same reason Satanists (at least certain ones; I wouldn’t know about the philosophy in general) see Lucifer as a “liberator”; for the same reason Christian theology is so badly stereotyped and misunderstood.

Ultimately, we’re all after the same thing, whether we think we see it in vampires, superheroes, the Divine, chocolate, or people. But means and motivations matter, and the riddle of existence is a simple kind of complicated that will tie your brain in knots until you find the one thread that binds the pattern together.

Those who idolize vampires, like Twilight fans, miss the tapestry altogether, unaware that it is what holds them together while they read it; that while they’re busy chasing reflections and mirages and getting everything exactly backwards, the real thing is right beside them, patiently waiting for them to realize which side of the garden wall it is they’re on.


Thanks for reading.

Ever feel unappreciated? On the sidelines? Wrongfully in the wrong?

Welcome to my summer. This is so unbelievably crappy I cannot even believe it.

It's just been one of those days. So was last night, come to think of it. And on top of it all my entire afternoon was shot and I have a headache from staring at this computer screen.

My parents are mad because this trip is important to me. I'm mad because they won't listen to me, about this or anything else--like house hunting, for example. It seems like everyone has got something going for their summer except me. Significant others, saving money, seeing friends, just hanging out--whatever. Whereas I get to fight with my parents, never have enough money no matter how many hours or jobs I work, and never get to see anyone. Partially because some of them, not to mention names that begin with "S" and end with "hane", are too busy being workaholics and obsessing of their idiot girlfriend to care about their friends.

The world is unfair and it doesn't matter whether I'm right or not, no one will LISTEN to me.

I don't like being helpless, I don't like being treated as though I'm worthless, and above all I don't like the way my life is being directed, shaped and molded by stupid people who have no business doing anything of the sort.

In short, I'm fucking furious, and there's nothing I can do about anything.

In the words of Terry Pratchett: Sometimes it's better to light a flamethrower than to curse the darkness.

Inspired by terry pratchett, the sibling society, jazz guitarists, and a sad conversation. And probably a bunch of other stuff.



I am delighted
I am a raving lunatic
I am notes in the belly of a tuba

laughing at you

I am wordless inside
where the beasts reside

in the dark behind the eyes

I am standing at the foot of the scroll
it stretches behind me for paragraphs
only the smudges are mine

another hand moved mine

I am not I Am
I am not inconceivable
I am not certain

thinking in three's like a triangle






The "sad" conversation brought back rather sharply some events I sort of wish had never happened.

"Regret" is not the word. "Annoyed" is better. "Angry" might even be more accurate.

He was an idiot. I was still reeling and vulnerable from the "asshole boy fiasco". And so a friend became a bad choice. God that makes it sound so serious and dramatic. But all that happened was toes got stepped on and feelings got hurt. And I didn't speak to one of my good friends for a few months, but whatever.

I never would have guessed any of that idiocy actually bothered me in and of itself (or still could, I guess) and then... wow. Whamo.

It's probably that whole being used and discarded sensation. The double-whammy of you're not good enough. Yeah. I can see how that would have a negative affect on someone.

But seriously, he is the only person I know who actually lives in a stinking romance movie.

My "movie" had a rather different ending. If ending it be. No one knows the future...

"We can never see past the choices we don't understand."

Funny how random movie quotes talk sense.

I'm not depressed. I'm just a little out of whack. Like a time traveler. Culture shock kinda thing. Slightly disoritented, a bit conflicted and confused.

And annoyed. Underneath it all, really, really, REALLY annoyed.

Is it sad the only reason I post in here is because I know no one is ever going to read it? Not really. I just wanted to get this off my chest, and, having deleted all my other blog crap things and not wanting to write longhand, this is the only place to ramble without getting the attention of the other participant in said conversation.

Okay. I've rambled, I've got it off my chest, and now I've got to remind myself that the past is the past for a reason, he's not that stupid anymore, I'm not so short sighted anymore, and I really, really ought to get some sleep because I have a shitload of paper writing to do tomorrow. Today.

One last thought: Democracy is coming to the USA by Leonard Cohen is possibly my new favorite song.

Finally no longer 'the librarian's daughter'?
Finally no longer 'the short one'?
Finally no longer 'the smart one'?
Finally no longer... something.
Finally now... what?



Oh good god. Somebody please shoot the emo chick claiming to be me before I strangle her first.



It's these past few days. I know what it is. It's the events of the past few days, driving me insane. Plus that other thing. Yeah.

Sanity level: dropping rapidly.

...And I'm reduced to BLOGGING. on ELFTOWN.

God. I think it's time for... more homework.

Proof that I am really, truly, horribly desperate for something to do, something distracting and all encompasing. The downside is it will eat my soul in the process, damn college classes, but I suppose that's fitting justice for "keith the soul eater."

the matrix may or may not be real, but there is a "splinter in my mind" nonetheless, and it makes me glower darkly and mutter curses that I know both the cause and cure and all the same I am powerless to do anything about it. powerless to do anything about anything, really. still.

hm. maybe i should stop drinking six cans of dr pepper a day. that might help a little bit...

Hm. I really should delete all the old crap in here. Oh well.

I'm posting here toni--*checks clock*--this morning because I want to make a (hopefully brief) statement about Friends.

You know, the people in your life, not the television show.

It's strange how "friend" and "frienship" mean different things to different people. It's funny how you can be better friends with someone than they are with you, and vice versa. It's odd how some people are just pivotal in your life, even if they were only really present for a short while. Sometimes I wonder about how much chance and circumstance has to do with the friends we make. I tend to think the answer to that is... a lot.

Okay, okay. I have a reason for writing this. It's not just random pseudo-philosphizing. (Although it's that, too.) Since coming to college I've been a bit of a loner. You might think in the dorm setting that I'm forced to endure that would be impossible, but all that renders difficult is privacy. And for some reason tonight I thought of someone, a friend that, I think, meant/means more to me than I do to them, who happens to have once been a pivotal person in my life. I can certainly say life would have turned out quite differently without them, at any rate.

No, I'm not going to say who. (Or is that whom? Oh well.)

And I think I know where part of this is coming from. I was watching movie previews online tonight and there was this one... yeah.

Oooh speaking of which, Alan Rickman and Johnny Depp are appearing in the same movie O_O A movie about a famous murdering barber would probably not hold my attention at all, but they put two of my favoritest favoritest actors in it. I will be seeing that movie. Probably on its opening night. And I will probably love it. *sigh* The things I do for my favorite actors.

(Irony. The above paragraph coming from the most anti-celebrity person ever. Eye-ron-ick.)

Essentially, I thought tonight suddenly and unexpectedly about a friend I haven't seen or talked to in a while and had a sudden urge to go see them and give them a great big hug. End existenstial angst or whatever the hell this psued-philosphizing equals out to be.

l oh well.

ps. i now have a mac instead of a pc.
pps. that fact makes me want to cry.
ppps. want my pc back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Goodness only knows why I should post this here, but, I'm going to. If I had the patience, I would really delete all my previous journal entries here. Oh well. My post:


~~~
~~~
~~~



"Bloody mnhei'sahe again. Not even the (translator) does anything about that word."
"Only people can do anything about it. The day you understand it, that day our wars are at an end."

There's lots of Star Trek quotes I could pick to quote, but that one will do for now. There's no possible way I could really begin to explain here what's been going through my mind lately about that concept, mnhei'sahe, or any other number of related topics, or any real way you, the passerby reader, whoever you may be, if anyone even does read this, can begin to understand or to care without being impacted as I am by the source material.

But I'm going to attempt to do a little explaining anyway, bearing in mind that I am, after all, biased by a completely unconditional love of the best parts of Star Trek, especially the Vulcans and the Romulans (at the moment especially them, anyway.) I've been reading a lot about Rihannsu politics lately. And, more importantly, their, what for lack of a better term must be called their 'code of honor.'

Chivalry is pretty deeply ingrained into the subconscious psyche of British-born cultures. Knights, Camelot, Chivalry, that kind of thing, all tends to go together, being honorable, whatnot. Multiply chivalry by a factor of about three billion or so and you're not even close to mnhei'sahe, but you might be approaching the subject with the right attitude.

I've attempted to define it more concrete--and English terms--which is a pretty hopeless task, but these adjectives come to mind: honor, justice, integrity, love, purity, truth. Particularly honor.

Any code of ethics, or honor system, can be manipulated into something against its original intended intent, or purpose. But for all intents and purposes, mnhei'sahe is a way of life, for the Rihannsu, that involves strict personal honor, and--hm, a term I left out: loyalty.
Mnhei'sahe is about doing what will give everyone honor, including yourself, by doing what's right in a situation. That's why the term doesn't necessarily mean one thing, because the meaning changes depending on the context. It could mean granting mercy or even friendship to your enemies, instead of killing them, or it could mean engaging your closest friend or family member in a fight to the death. Those are, of course, extreme examples. It's not something that's taken lightly, however.

The first interesting point about all this is how it interacts with other philosophies found in Star Trek. The Rihannsu are the distant cousins of the Vulcans, Sundered from them in ages past, in the time of Surak, but for all that, they are still, in many was, one people. But although the Rihannsu are a warrior people, (similar yet vastly different from the Klingons, definitely,) and the Vulcans are, since the time of Surak and the Sundering, pacificts and vegetarians, although I haven't re-read the book I need to to make sure of the information instead of relying on faulty memory, the concepts of mnhei'sahe and the Vulcan o'thia fit together remarkably well--even though the first is based in a warrior culture, full of emotion and battles, and the latter is based in logic, or as o'thia literally translates, reality-truth, and 'waging peace' at all costs. "What matters is doing what's right, not merely blindly defending what is attacked." That is part of the heart of o'thia, besides pure logical reasoning and peace.
The way the two philosophies have the potential to interact is staggering.

Yes, Star Trek is fiction, written by humans and therefore not truly alien, but rooted in our own psyche and beliefs and philosophies, I'm well aware of that, and even if these ideas are merely re-manifestations of ideas that have already been expressed in other times and places, if in slightly differing forms--which is highly likely--I think this manifestation is highly conducive to being recognized as what it is: truth, good, and right.

We learn from our fiction, particularly from our fairy tales. In the truest and, genre-ly speaking, broadest interpretation of the term, Star Trek is one of The fairy tales out of all fairy tales. It is one well worth learning from. Even worth taking its principles to heart, and forging a way of living around.

In a world that is too often muddled and confused and far from honorable or just, mnhei'sahe--and o'thia--are remarkably, brilliantly, clear, and hopeful, and wonderful. Incorporated into a person's belief systems and way of life, they can drastically alter a person's way of being--for the better.

There is a book called Star Trek Lives which in many places explains the real-world benefits of Star Trek and how the show, and its characters and its books, have helped people, and the world, so much. Not the least of its contributions are the ways in which it has changed the individuals who have seen it. Making the world a better place, one viewer at a time. I'd like to think I'm one of those individuals changed for the better.

A Rihannsu proverb: Truth sometimes wears a skewed look while being no less true.

Whatever form the message takes, there is one central message, the basic rightness and moral/ethical/whatever the right word is building blocks out of which the universe is formed, which we, human beings, are made, and this particular Star Trek form is particularly conducive to getting the message across loud and clear. For whatever reasons this form resonates with me so, it is undoubtedly that it is both logical and emotionally fitting for mnhei'sahe, and perhaps o'thia, to become a part of my life--heck, even yours, unknown (potential) reader.
Star Trek is a very bright universe. It is full of hope. The kind of hope we need here, really. Mnhei'sahe is a way of life that is about, on a very basic level, doing what is honorable, and what is right. My vocabulary is insufficient at this point to be more specific than that--but when it means weeding out corruption, caring for those who need to be cared for, and building peace, what more, honestly, can there be left to say?

Undoubtedly, opposition to such "vague", "idealistic," and "impractical" notions will make itself heard, and in more unpleaasent terms than that; but where mnhei'sahe may require a form of idealism in those who dream big enough to conceive of the kind of place where that kind of virtue and honor are common place and the core of every being, o'thia, the Vulcan logic, will require the pragmatic view that tempers it.

No wonder humans were able to invent both the Rihannsu and the Vulcans. We are the two of them, joined, at least at our best; at our best, we are the results of Reunification, where the philosophies of two separate viewpoints, quite different now but rooted in one common ancestry, come together again the better for their differences and time apart.

I can already hear some of the comments about not only the content of this little essay, as it's turned out to be, but it's tone. My response to that is, well, you must experience your own revelations. This has been one of mine. It's quite possibly still occuring. This has been mostly an attempt to sort my thoughts out on the matter.
Mnhei'sahe; not a bad way to live. Certainly an improvement on the way many live, or rather, avoid living, now.

Think about it.

I repeat:

It would be nice to feel wanted again.

I can almost remember what it was like, if I concentrate hard enough.

Unfortunately, that's one of those activities that makes me feel like crying. Usually at inappropriate times, in embarassing places, in front of all the wrong people.

I wonder if the right person would even notice.

Life is funny, sometimes. WYSIWYG. Only not...

It was never supposed to be like this.

It would be so easy to adopt a dramatic stance and exclaim in remorse and terror, "What have I done!", but the problem is--

--I already know.

And this particular rhetorical question only drives the pain in deeper.

So much for...

<sigh>.

everything.

Well, fuck.

You know sometimes friends are great

and sometimes the most well-intentioned of pals just...

...fuck everything up.

Fuck.

I dislike being ignored.

I have a suspicion, a very strong suspicion, he doesn't see it as ignoring me.

But when I'm feeling bad enough about everything else, I really don't need this uncertainty, too.

It would be nice to feel wanted again.

Do you have ANY idea how bored I am??

I'M WRITING IN HERE AGAIN THAT OUGHTA TELL U SOMETHING

I also just reread all those past entry things, and WOWEE I'm... I was... eh, forget it.

You know what I really, really, really think?

I don't actually know.

Come back again tomorrow.

Or don't.

phooey on you-ey.

I guess.

Er....somethinglikethat???????

I don't think I can take another three weeks of school.

I have this strange simple-minded delusion that as long as I don't have to come out of my room, everything will be okay.

Nothing is ever like it should be or like I thought it would be, all plans come to nothing and there is nothing and no one I can count on.

And the worst betrayal of all I still can't get my mind around. Everything since that is surreal and unimportant. The one person I thought would be there was not, and it doesn't matter why, not really, because that's where it all fell down, right there, and now I am stuck in this horrible in-between state of mind and in the worst possible location, and I know I should never have looked back.

I knew better.

But then, I always do.

I had a disney childhood.

In a way, put in perspective, that sucks. Looking at another way, however; what better kind of childhood to have?

I don't know what I'm thinking. In a way I'm doing quite well today, but there's a dark shadow hovering in the back of my mind warning me mayday, mayday, school resumes tomorrow, running out of time, mayday, mayday

fiffilestibas.

/

today was horribly, horribly, horrible.



why am i not surprised?

The idea that "life isn't fair" is a hard lesson to learn. And, apparantly, to remember.






“Somehow for all my thinking
I can't seem to decide
Just what it truly is
That’s running through my mind
Running from the demons
that only I can see
in the end will I be one of them?
But then who will be me?”

“Understand one another? I fear I am beyond your comprehension. But you, Saruman, I now understand too well.”
--Gandalf to Saruman, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, Tolkein

“The treacherous are ever distrustful.”
--Gandalf to Saruman, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers

“So I took the road less traveled; now where the heck am I?”  
--a t-shirt.

“See the happy moron!
He doesn’t give a damn.
I wish I were a moron—
My God! Perhaps I am!”
--??

Playing devil's advocate is the only way to know where you really stand on an issue.

“We are here because we are not all there.”




I think anarchists are stupid, yet I also find it amusing to break the rules. Push the limits. How far can you go... The reason being, I suppose, because I can't shake the solid spark of sanity in the back of my head that will always stop me before I go too far.

Always... that is, so far, always.

"Rules are there to make you think before you break them."

^ I knew rules weren't made to be broken, but I couldn't articulate it. However, on this point I think I agree (at least at the moment) with Terry Pratchet fully on this.




"The life you have led doesn't necessarily have to be the only life you have."

^ That is a very comforting thought.

I stumbled across these in an old file while going through a few long forgotten and dusty corners of my computer. Some still have the power to make me laugh. Gee, I can't imagine why...



It's okay to kiss a fool; it's okay to let a fool
kiss you... but NEVER let a kiss fool you.

Walking away isn't the hard part...it's knowing
that you won't come running after me that hurts
the most.

I still miss my x. But my aim is getting much
better.

The other day I ran into my x boyfriend. So I
backed up and hit him again.

Why does every guy have to measure up to the
one that broke my heart?

Which hurts more? Thinking you should hate him
or knowing that you don't?

One day he'll see the light... then he'll get
hit by the train!

Don't pay any mind to the people from your
past. There is a reason they're not in your
future.
(Which reminds me of a Dr Seuss quote: "Those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind."

Don't believe in love at first sight? Maybe you
better walk by again.

You know it's love when all you want is that
person to be happy. Even if you're not part of
their happiness.

I thought I could never love again, until you
came by. But then you kept on walking.

I must have 'play me' written all over my face
because it always seems to happen.

Sometimes the person you fall for isn't willing
to catch you.

Lots of people use really thin threads when
mending their ways.

I love you is eight letters, but then again so
is bullshit.






Do opposites really attract? At first, maybe. But... overall? Only, I think, if the oppositeness is only surface-deep.

It's called shell shock.

It happens to lots of soldiers. The example I'm thinking of was after WWI.

The once wonderful boy has grown up, in the war, into shell shock; now he can stand people only as shallow and miserable as himself.

Shell shock occurs, in other, arguably lesser, forms to those who don't have physical wars to fight. The symptoms can be different. The ones I am thinking of, however, might occur in people who fight non-physical battles as well.

An epic war of the soul.

It's a self defense mechanism. When the unendurable comes to pass--it's not endured. But to stave off fully fledged insanity, or death, it's simply... backed away from.

'To step aside is human.'

Sometimes it's neccessary.

Sometimes it's also a bloody stupid thing to do.

And sometimes...

when, perhaps, it's at its most dangerous...

it's very, very tempting.