Thursday, February 28, 2008

Labels

After finally conquering the mind blank that has plaguing me for weeks, I've finally slew the dragon that is my inability to find a topic and raise the flag of my so-called creativity to write this post. So the sane people of good taste may start quivering their in boots and pray that they do not fall into the 0.00001% of the population that reads this infernal and sorry excuse for a blog.

Now that we've gotten through the unnecessary and long-winded self-depreciation we can go on and place something after this sentence that relates to the title.

I'm a gamer and a geek. There is no denying that and I am rather proud of it. I like the idea that I am actually of above average intelligence (how humble) and be a complete dumbass at the same time. For the following months, I almost forgot this vital detail of my persona. Well, after the purchase of a portable gaming system (and the eventual repair of my gaming PC), I have once again acknowledged this detail as a core value of my existence.

But gamer and geek are just two of the labels that make up the entirety of this sad, deluded and charming entity (that would be me, but seriously, if you couldn't figure that out then I suggest you take a comprehension class). I'd like to think that I'm a fudie at heart and one of the few living conversationalists left on this Godforsaken earth. If you're familiar with Planescape, one could say I'm a bit of a namer to the Sensates (in other words, I value the experience or seek a variety of experience and appreciate them, negative or positive)

But to say that we, as sentient and feeling organisms, are made up of combinations of hundreds of labels would be stupid. We're not programs, this is why Artificial Intelligence, for all its' calculating consistency cannot contend with humanity's ability to be unpredictable.

If you've come this far, you're probably asking what's the point? I would then suggest that you drop your email address so I can send you a picture of that Nelson kid in the Simpsons pointing and laughing at you with his trademark "Ha! Ha!" But no. The point is, we can label ourselves all
we want, or other if we feel like it ('tis fun, mean, but fun, ask a certain emo person I know how much I derive pleasure from such a mundane activity) but we can never truly predict what we do or what we are capable of. Labels can give people an idea of who or what we are but they also give us room for surprises which I think what makes mankind the dominant species in God's green earth. So I say unto you, dear reader, cherish your entropy, it's what gives us the ability to nuke the whales.... and the sense not to.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

I Got Nothing

The thing about writing is, we always go through a phase wherein one cannot conjure the words or the idea needed to piece together a string of sentences that constitutes a written product. Many writers try different techniques to get "in the zone" or break through the much fabled "writers block". Yours truly could go on and give a few examples, but really, anything under the sun can be considered conducive in getting through "the funk" so to speak.

Whether the imagination has been depleted or the coffee was severely bad, or the usual object of scorn/admiration we find in the media was the same old drivel/gold mine we've seen or derived from, this "block" happens.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), this blog is about absolutely nothing. So I can pound away on my derelict keyboard like a monkey on some lethal combo of sugar-coated bananas and grade A speed and post random words and sentences as a poor filler for my shortcomings in imagination.

But truth be told, there is something fulfilling about getting away with absolute bullshit. It's certainly not the thrill of fooling innocent web surfers into wasting their precious 5 minutes (of course if you're still reading this, you're probably as bored as I am). It is perhaps, that through the composition of this post, I was actually able to beat the "block" no matter how ultimately deficient of value this post is. Well, maybe not deficient, but completely devoid would be more appropriate. Empty this victory over self-limitations may be, at the very least, I have an update.

So basically, I just admitted that I have absolutely nothing to write about, and wrote about it....

....

I don't know whether to be happy or depressed at how inexcusably bizarre that is.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Dying with eyes closed and an open heart

If you haven't watched the Bucket List, the movie gods demand that you do so immediately.

Like the many pieces of modern art that has been discussed in this contemptuous journal, this author would be damned if the philosophy encased within the thick lines of cinematography and dialog were not explored.

The premise seemed simple enough, two men about to die making a list of things (mostly reckless activities) before they "Kicked the Bucket". As one can easily surmise, this movie was just ripe with realizations and epiphanies packaged in either tear jerking moments or witty exchanges.

One could go on and just post a review but that's not the point now isn't it? Two quotes from other masterpieces of contemporary art kept popping up into my mind while watching this movie. "A Man's mortality is a compass that points his way in life." The quote, which is taken from Trias the Betrayer from the game Planescape: Torment, further illustrates that when we are faced with the inescapable truth of our own demise, we get direction. Why else are people rushing to gain riches or garner treasures whether they are physical or otherwise? While one can argue that this is not the consistent case with regards to the two main characters of the Bucket List, a closer look would tell you that they do indeed ascribe to this, the only difference being that after being faced with a clear time limit to their mortality, Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson's characters let go of the fear of losing their way, and in the case of Freeman, there is a scene that illustrates this clearer.

The second quote was actually an answer when a friend once asked what makes me happy: "Life... is strength. That is not to be contested; it seems logical enough. You live; you affect your world." The main antagonist for the second installation of the Baldur's Gate series is perhaps, contradictory to the nature of the plot. Then again, supporting characters and the main protagonists themselves illustrate just how living and the influence that comes with it is such a powerful force.

It was probably intentional that certain life inquiries like those of love, faith, logic and perception were thinly veiled in character dialog. Were we really watching a simple story, or a reflection of our thoughts with regards to living and dying? Such queries may not hit home immediately to some people, but for someone who has lost a loved one, these reflections become quite evident.

Monday, February 4, 2008

Seeking Perfection

Perfection is not the heaven we seek but the Purgatory that we secretly dread, knowing full well that once everything is truly perfect, there is nothing else to strive for.

Life is imperfect, and it is the imperfections that make it worth going through. While there is never anything wrong to aim for perfection in one's craft, what do we do after achieving ne plus ultra? Profit perhaps? Or maybe a sense of accomplishment? In the end, however, we all get a backlash of longing or the need to improve upon things further, be it the same piece or in other avenues.

Perfection is also relative, if not a myth, applicable only depending on who you ask. I daresay that the most perfect of lives are those that are imperfect. As any story goes, it would be pointless to have a protagonist go through chapters without struggle or not have at least one flaw. We've heard all the cliches from various chick flicks, "she had the perfect live etc.," but the common denominator always seems to be the longing for something more, beyond the this fabricated notion of a "perfect life".

Practice makes perfect, but the true worth and value of anything and everything isn't its perfection, but the practice that leads us to the point closest to perfection.

"To stand still on the summit of perfection is difficult, and in the natural course of things, what cannot go forward - slips back."