Dreams

I only remember one dream, but it was quite odd. The first part is somewhat fragmentary, there seemed to be something about a mall and my parents' house and other things, but I don't clearly remember. The part I do clearly remember was that my friend Kim called me, because she was feeling quite depressed. It seemed that she wanted to me to meet her at our old high school, where she maybe still attended (?), despite it ostensibly being 2018. She also seemed to want to have a baby to help her with her depression, and I recalled that the last time she had been depressed that we had sex (which makes some sort of sense, I guess?), it was all very confusing.

More Dreams

What I remember of this dream: There was a man with intent to assault some women. The reason he planned on assaulting and murdering them was because  they were sex workers, or at least he perceived them to be. As he was preparing this, another man showed up and addressed him, pointing a gun at him. Evidently, the women were not sex workers (well, maybe that, too), but were working with a crew of outlaws, who had setup a deal with other outlaws. When the second crew arrived, they shot the first man in the back of the head. However, he was not killed by this for some reason, and instead started to set off an explosive in his fake eye. The first crew ran, and the second crew appeared to be taken out. Then the man went on the run, naked, for some reason.

That's the point at where I was involved and no longer just an observer. I tracked him, followed him from a distance until he climbed into the back of a school bus that was full of college students. I climbed in after. The tone of the dream shifted, at that point, as he had tried to convince the girl next to him to have sex with him, a petite young thing with black hair. She didn't want to, so I invited her over to sit with me. Well, she was apparently more into me because, well... In the midst of it, the driver of the bus called everyone up to the front, as they apparently wanted to inspect people's flies for signs that they were having sex. During the inspection, it was revealed that I and several others were members of the student (?) council of this college were going to, and it was some sort of flight school or something. Evidently, I was in charge of structuring courses and such. Someone said I was also a member of the other student council, which I've no idea what that means.  After that, I went back to sit with my new friend. I woke up shortly after.

Horror Movies

It's rather rare that I sit and watch horror films by myself. A great many I do not care for, especially the more recent slate. But the occasions that I do watch horror films, I'm usually in favor of the protagonists, 20 minutes with jerks tropes not withstanding. There are a few notable exceptions to this, but it holds true for the most part.

However, I just watched the original 1984 Children of the Corn. While I've probably seen the film before (as I'm a big Stephen King fan and at one time sought to watch all of his films), I have no real recollection of it, so it was as if I was watching for the first time (if it was not indeed the first time in earnest). Now, I had sympathy for Job, Sara, and Joseph. Young children, forced to witness and be accessory in the murders of all the adults in town. I didn't really have much sympathy or interest in Burt or Vicky from the beginning, and as the film went on, I grew to dislike Vicky for her lack of anything resembling competence or character relatability. It seemed she served only to assert they take the exact opposite course of action that Burt wished to take in a given situation. Burt, at least, seemed some what relatable as he behaved like a person thrust into this situation would (at least until the part he started beating up children for no reason. Yes, yes, they were members of a murderous cult, but really, he didn't know that they were trying to murder him when he started with that.)
But honestly, the character I found most sympathetic was Isaac. Religious fanaticism not withstanding, he was strong leader, who knew for a fact that his deity not only existed, but wanted specific things. Malachai, on the other hand, struck me as nothing but a jealous, bloodthirsty brute more interested in killing than actually appeasing He Who Walks Behind the Rows. Isaac had a soft spot for Job and Sara, allowing them to break the rules with little consequence, a fact that irked Malachai to no end. Malachai's ultimate betrayal of Isaac, and taking Vicky away from the ritual clearing to try to lure Burt out seemed like the reason that He Who Walks Behind the Rows came with intent to destroy the cult, in my opinion. Burt's speech about religions failing made him somewhat likeable, but really by that point I had lost interest, and just wanted Isaac to kill everybody, because he was right all along. I was passably okay with the ending, except the whole leaving all the rest of the children to their fate and only taking Job and Sara with them thing.

But that's not really the film I wanted to talk about. I also watched the second film in the series, the 1991 Children of the Corn II: The Final Sacrifice. From the opening of the film, I absolutely hated the protagonists. Even more than just not really caring about them, I actively loathed them. Especially Garrett. I could not stand anything about him. The film did nothing to improve my opinion of him, from his lack of regard for other people's feelings and opinions in pursuit of his story, his complete disregard of his son's feelings and opinions for his entire life, not to mention his sudden and inexplicable urge to tell him what to do, to his complaint about his $135 shoes getting ruined by wading through a creek, I never grew to like him, or even respect him as a journalist, a father, or a human being in an unreasonable situation. Danny, I felt a bit more sympathy for, but ultimately, he was kind of bland, achieving something resembling character growth only after being asked to sacrifice the girl he liked, and even then, he went from having a modicum of depth in his relationship with his father to wanting to patch things up because..... why? Nothing about the lead female characters was at all interesting or worth mentioning, as they served only as love interests for their male counterparts. It was so utterly boring, I skipped most of the scenes of them interacting with one another. Frank Red Bear was almost an interesting character, until it became clear his only role was fulfilling the Mystical Native American role. Even having a line saying "Sometimes, what you've learned and what you know contradict each other." Sigh.

However, this film totally re-affirmed my sympathy and support of He Who Walks Behind the Rows and his chosen prophet, Micah. With the snazzy Native American origin story given to He Who Walks Behind the Rows (a tribe of farmers grew lazy and complacent, exploiting the animals of the land and neglecting the farms and plants, causing the children to ultimately rebel and kill them, creating the vengeful spirit), and Micah's sympathetic story (he, along with all the other surviving Gatlin children were shipped off to the next town over, where the populous pretended to accept them, but really just wanted access to their corn crop, so they could sell it and make a huge profit), made me really, really want Danny to join them in earnest and have the rest of the town perish. The ending was super disappointing as well. Garret and Frank straight up murder a couple teenagers, and Danny isn't able to go through with killing the girl he likes. Frank, though fatally wounded, runs over Micah with a combine, and as he's getting sucked in, he begs Danny for help. Meanwhile, Garrett yells at him to run away with the women folk as he retrieves Frank's body. And then, the four survivors leave, Danny and Garrett have put their harsh words and lifetime of resentment behind them and.... that's it. What kind of an ending is that? Not only is Garrett a murderer (he caught a spear thrown at him, and then threw it back, impaling the poor child who threw it in the first place), but somehow, because he showed up and helped fight off the cult, he and Danny have resolved their issues somehow? And the women are totally swooning over their manliness because spending a few days with a boy and a jackass and having them not kill you and help not kill you is the quickest way to a woman's heart, right? Wow. I understand why of all the films, this one was so poorly received.

Impressions

I often wonder what sort of impression people get from my life. What sort of things do people think about me and my actions and my relationships? Do people have assumptions and ideas that would never have crossed my mind to associate with my own life? How close or far are these assumptions from the truth?

One of the main problems with this is that there is no objective truth to be had. There's my impression of these things. There are the others' involved impressions. And then are the outside impressions of those third parties. Each of these impressions is informed by a great number of things. A person's history, biases, and moods. Hundreds of other factors. So, what is the truth?

Never Any Less Surprising

Tonight, I had someone thank me for my actions at an event we both attended in June. In fact, they told me that they could not thank me enough for what I did for them. As far as I know, all I did for them was greet them warmly and ask to get to know them. Sure, we spent a lot of time together over the course of the week. But most of it was simply sitting next to each other and talking. We did share a tent for a night, and I assisted them with a few things, but in general, I feel as if I only did what any other person would have done in my place.

Apparently, this was enough to give them an entirely new perspective on themself and the world. Granted, they also mentioned the rest of my group helped with that. I suppose, as this was a young person exploring their gender identity, that it was helpful that I, and the rest of my group, were welcoming and accepting. I suppose were I that age and first coming out it would have had an equal effect on me.

But regardless, it never gets any less surprising. No matter how many times people thank me for treating them like a human being and accepting them as they are, I will never not be surprised. I hope they continue to meet people who treat them as well, or even better.

Thoughts on Responsibilities and Other Things

I expect this to be a long, perhaps rambling post. First, let me relate a dream I had recently. In this dream, I was evidently at an event with my group in a medieval fantasy combat game I participate in. At this event, the previous year we had camped at a different, though adjacent, spot. We had setup our camp and the leader of the group, myself, and several others decided to go back to the old spot and look it over. The leader and I were also discussing important matters to the group, though the exact details of which I do not recall, but it seemed as if most of the people accompanying us were simply hanging out. This was a minor annoyance to me, as it seemed to be impeding the business talk, but as it regularly happens regardless, I didn't say anything. The old site, for whatever reason, required descending a wooden stairway, maybe twenty feet down, at least from the direction we approached from. I noted that we had left some graffiti on the stairs the previous year (as many others had as well).  At the bottom of the stair was a great deal of ankle deep muck, which we recalled from the previous year (and no doubt one of the primary reasons we moved), and we continued the discussion. However, as one of the others with us came down the stair way, part of the railing broke off. Next to the stairs, a multi-trunked tree was growing and leaning against it. Another member of the group broke one (or perhaps several) of the tree trunks, and in doing so, caused the entire stair case to begin collapsing and falling to pieces. I remarked to the leader that this would not have happened if it had only been those of us who were meant to come. Shortly after, we heard a horn that I knew meant something was happening at our camp. Taking the initiative, I shouted to everyone that if they were not engaged in the business talk they ought to return to camp. The leader, however, quietly said we were done at the old site anyway, and I belayed that and went with him out the other direction of the site, which did not require a stairway. As we approached we saw a very strange thing going on in front of our camp. Evidently, there was some sort of show or event or something, with a large number of people shooting fireballs out of umbrella like devices, immediately in front of and going in and out of our camp. This did not sit well with me at all, and I berated those responsible, pointing out that if there were not a relatively wide, empty area next to our gate, they could very well be setting fire to our camp. I don't recall any details after that, the dream may have changed or ended.

Now, I related the contents of that dream, because I would like to use it as an example. To begin with, the wooden stairway is a very good illustration of how NOT to treat a site. While in the dream I did not feel much concern about either the graffiti or the collapsing, looking back on those things, I really feel as if the graffiti, unless actively encouraged by the owners of the place, was incredibly inappropriate. In the dream, when the stair collapsed, I pointed out that it was because our people had come with us, even though they weren't involved in the discussion. However, I did not seem to feel as if it was horribly out of line. Again, in retrospect, this seems like incredibly poor behavior. While the dream logic to an extent suggested the event organizers would be understanding of the incident, I feel as if I should have taken proactive steps to prevent such things from happening in the first place. From the beginning, I should have asked the hangers-on to hang on elsewhere and not follow us. When I saw the person making missteps, I should have intervened. Likewise, I should have intervened with the person breaking the tree (though I seem to recall, in the dream logic, there was some justification for their actions, though I can't for the life of me figure out what it might have been).

This is especially true now that, as of the end of June, I was given a chain of responsibility to wear 'round my neck. While I've had responsibility in the group before, I've borne no outward symbol.

Even outside of that group, however, I've been wearing the chain. I've worn it every day since I've completed it. Outside of the game, it has no meaning. A person who sees it will not know of its significance. But for me, it is a physical reminder that I need to take more responsibility for things. For instance, I woke up this morning, not feeling particularly well. Physically nor mentally. But I woke up. I put on some clothes, and I went out to the kitchen. I noticed my partner sitting on the couch, working, rather than going to the university to do so. This situation did not bother me, though it was unexpected. I made a casual remark on it, and she told me she was working. I said okay. I then continued to the kitchen and began doing dishes immediately. I had said that I would do so today, and as they had been piling up for some time, there were quite a few and it would take me a few loads, as we have little space for them to dry and a single well sink. After I completed the first load and set them to dry, I sat down on the couch with my laptop. As I was doing my usual things, I tried to engage my partner in light conversation, as she was grading assignments, and she can sometimes get frustrated with such things. However, she indicated that she did not really want to talk, and that I should go elsewhere. Well, I did not respond well to this at all. I considered it rude and hurtful. I went back to start the second load of dishes, and after I set them to dry, I went and laid back down in bed.  A little while later, I got up to go do the next load, and she asked me if i was upset with her. I answered honestly, and said yes, a little. That I felt like if I hadn't promised to do the dishes I'd have just gone back to bed, because I didn't feel it was worth getting up this morning. This quite upset her. Understandably so. Later that I evening I realized how horribly depressed I currently am, and why I reacted to her reasonable requests very poorly. However, that is not a justification for my behavior. My words and actions were not in keeping with the morals and responsibilities I hold myself to. Rather, that I ought to hold myself to.

I have much work to do, in that regard.

A Bit of Revision

So, I decided to remove all my drafts for novels I'm currently working on from this blog, largely because, well, I don't really think they are ready for public consumption, and I changed a fair few things and wrote a fair few more in the mean time. While I lack having documentation of my progress, I prefer to have it to myself, and not exposed to the world.

That said, I'm highly considering doing something new with this blog in the future. Obviously, I've not been particularly active in the past six months or so. So, I'd like to renew an effort for daily postings, or at least five days a week postings. The question is, what kind of content should I put into it? I've considered writing essays and analyses and reviews and the like, but I haven't done anything of the sort. I have also considered doing character profiles and background info from some of my stories. Maybe some interesting short story ideas I've tossed around. I don't know yet. Let me know in the comments what you think.

Musings of A Fragile Psyche

Sometimes my life can be pretty fucked up.
Now, for instance. I thought I was maybe getting my life on track. I'm working with a program director at a university to develop and instate a program to better serve the students facing particular issues. My partner and I recently decided to start a joint account. We are discussing moving to a bigger place. I've been counseling and mentoring college age kids for the past couple months. I've been happy, healthy, and productive for the past couple of months, for the most part at least.

Then I went and dug around in my past. And here I am at 2 AM, sitting awake, on my computer, listening to forlorn, melancholy, and depressing music because my whole world is turning upside down. Something I believed for a long time, something that profoundly affected my life, fucked me up beyond recognition, and shaped the very person I became to a high degree, may in fact have been in my head. I've come to terms with that part, and I'd rather that be the case, honestly. But how does a person recover from the shock, the realization, that most of their adult life was spent dealing with, coping with, trying to recover from, and learn from... an event that didn't even fucking happen? A dream, a dissociative episode, or just some lie I told myself? The past seven, eight years of my life built from something that... that may not have been reality.

I don't regret where I am. I regret some of the things I did. Some of the things I didn't do. A lot of things I'm doing now are the direct result of my struggles with that incident. I still can't wrap my head around the fact that I may never know the truth about what really happened.

Memories

When I was a sophomore in high school, a close friend of mine died in a car accident. It was late a night, and both drivers were drunk. One car was speeding down the highway, and the other, the one he was in, pulled out into the intersection in front of it. The other car t-boned them on the passenger side, killing him. Both drivers were uninjured.

I'm not sure that I had experienced a more personal death in my life up to that point. Family members that I had fleeting contact with and so forth, didn't really affect me. But this was a kid, a young kid with whom I had grown up with. A kid who I remember as the first person to ever call me a "motherfucker". A kid who I recall playing basketball with when I was 3 foot nothing. A kid who I was really quite fond of.

I remember attending his wake. Many of our classmates were there, and I recall, as I entered. A friend of mine, another close friend from a different circle, saw me. He had been crying, quite clearly, as many others were. I imagine it was the same situation for many of them. I did not cry. In fact, I was a little resentful of the others who were. Many of them had nothing to do with this young boy in the casket. They didn't hang out with him, they didn't talk to him, they didn't even really acknowledge his existence. I was honestly offended when my friend patted me on the shoulder and said, "Good to see you. I gotta get out of here, it's too much," and then left. This person who had barely known him, and who had only casually engaged him in conversation. A person who had gone to a different school for the past eight years until the beginning of high school. What memories did he share with the young, reposing teenager lying there on that table?

I sat towards the back of the room. I did not cry. Even as I write, my eyes grow blurry, and I feel the tears building, but in that moment, I did not cry. But I was not indifferent. Sitting there, looking at him, I felt very deeply. Everyone always says that looking upon a corpse in a funeral home, they look so peaceful and natural. As if they were just sleeping. But when I looked at him, I saw he was dead. He looked dead to me. He did not look peaceful or natural, he looked dead. And from that day on, every personal funeral I've been to that had an open casket, or a wake, it has been the same. The dead look dead. Bereft of life. Expired, deceased.

I did not cry. On the inside, I felt so many things. I was overwhelmed. Maybe I cried internally, but I don't even think I did then. I merely sat for 30 minutes or so, looking at him in silence. Watching other people make large scenes. I sat quietly, in the back, and thought about the experiences we had had together. Then, I got up, just as quietly, and left. I did not go to the funeral. I saw him dead, and that was all the closure I needed.

But I've never forgotten him. Many other friends have come and gone over the years. I've not had contact with the vast majority of people I went to high school with in many, many years. I probably only vaguely remember experiences with even half of them. But I remember many things I did with him.

In particular, I remember staying over at his dad's house one summer, several years before high school. He lived a little ways out of town. Not so much as to be far from other houses, but enough that there was a large wooded area nearby, and even in the yards of the houses there were more trees than any townie was used to seeing. During the day, we romped through the woods and explored, past a septic pond, into the rain drenched foliage, and then back again, stopping off briefly in a neighbor's yard to swipe some gooseberries. In the evening, we played some games, and around 10 pm, we decided to watch a couple movies. Now, at the risk of dating myself, it was a few years yet before DVDs were the dominant medium, and he had a couple new releases on VHS, Detroit Rock City and South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut. Being a child, I was highly impressed. We watched them in that order, while he dutifully fast-forwarded through the sex scene in Detroit Rock City, as his father had told him that he was not allowed to watch that scene, we watched all of South Park, as there was no such edict against it. Eventually, after the movies, we fell asleep, though I do not remember when.

I'm still not sure I understand other people's reactions. Some of those there, were indeed his friends, and I can understand that, thinking on memories like this, they may be brought to tears. But others, as I said, only knew him as a face in class. Did not know him, his middle name, or his life. Why should they be making a big scene, crying and shrieking as if he were there best friend in the world? I suppose it must have been a familiarity issue. They had seen him every day at school, and thought they knew him as a result. Maybe it was something else. Regardless, I do not judge them. They were children, facing a personal loss, as was I. And that's all we are, isn't it? We are all children faced with our first real personal loss.

Dreams From Last Night 12

Strange dreams abound, that bled into one another. I recall being in Wisconsin, and finding an old magazine and informing my partner that I needed a particular thing from it. I pointed to a picture of a My Little Pony, one of the 80s ones, eating birthday cake, not that unusual, except that it was War, of the Horsemen  of the Apocalypse. She turned to me and said that if we had a particular crafting tool, I could make it myself.I also recall a dog, a shaggy yellow thing that appeared to be a cross between a Saluki and a golden retriever, that needed to go outside, so we let it out.

In another dream, or perhaps the continuation of the last, I was still in Wisconsin. My other partner and her mother were talking, about something, and it sounded like my partner wanted Girl Scout cookies. Her mom decided to call over the little girl who lives next door. Kai seemed to object, which is kind of expected from her. But the little girl came over and Kai's mom sat on some steps with some kittens that the little girl and I played with for a bit. Then Kai and I went outside into a strange area. It was clearly summer but there was a large creek in a lightly wooded area, and also fields of grass that featured many people playing sports. The fields I was trying to get Kai to come back inside, but she ignored me and was behaving strangely. It also felt like part of the house was out doors, I mean that part of the interior was not actually on the interior, if you follow me. Dream logic, you know. But regardless, Kai seemed to want to wander aimlessly in the area and I had something I needed or wanted to do, and so I said "I'm going back," and turned and headed back. Kai crossed the stream, jumped in it, etc. then as I crossed a bridge she went under it to the other side, where it made an S-bend so that it ran parallel with the path for a short way, then ran perpendicular to it again. she crossed to the opposite bank and stood there. I turned away for a moment, and when I looked back, she was standing in a different place. It was very creepy, and reminded me of the Slenderman.  I kept walking, but as I did I watched her and she began swimming under the water and came up near the path. I went down and talked to her. The scene shifted and we were in some sort of basement laundry room. There was a motley collection of items on the bottom step, that I was sitting just above, and a couple inches of water on the floor, where Kai stood. I pointed out the items, disposable razors, cigarettes, cigarette lighters, deodorant, and other things. Kai said they were her parents, and probably came from under the stairs, being rescued from the flooded floor. She was then ready to join me in whatever it was I was going to do, and put on fresh clothes as the floor dried, and then I awoke.

Dreams From Last Night XI

Last night, we arrived home from our multi-state holiday tour, and it was our first night back in our own bed. And it brought with it some strange dreams. Evidently, my older sister was getting remarried and I was in charge of the paperwork. why, I don't know. But it seemed that all of my fighting friends were there. In fact, my unit seemed to be in charge of the services. Old Shatterhaze was even there, wearing a diamond again.There were also many people who went to my high school. Even though my sister is four and a half years older than me, there were people both older and younger than me there for some reason. A particular individual whom I never really got along with  sat next to me. I asked him politely to go elsewhere and leave me be, but he wouldn't. I got increasingly angry in my appeals, until he finally began sexually harassing me. None of the people around seemed to care, and at this point I left to go find whoever was in charge of the event's security. I wandered for a while and then I awoke.
There was another dream I had, that involved a friend of mine and I in a rivalry over classic toys, and another that involved me wandering around an unknown neighborhood with some people, looking for a music teacher so that he could autograph a series of instruments. But that is all I really remember from last night.

Motivation

Today is not a good day for being productive. I've awoken, but my head is not at all clear. It is filled with the remnants of last night's sleeping pill, and the general haze and lethargy of the morning. In addition, I feel the motivation sapping cold of apathy and depression growing closer.

I had dreams last night. Many dreams. I remember a few, and I shall write of them. A weird combination of Seth MacFarlane characters hijacking Santa Claus's sleigh was one, but perhaps the least interesting.

I remember climbing a mountain. A very high mountain. Toting with me supplies to build some sort of  base. It was a sort of launch base for NASA, as I recall. There were others climbing as well, but it seemed to me that they were not so important, and they were going up and down as they pleased. I arrived at the top, and my old friend Jimmy was there already, scouting out  the area and finding the best place to set up. We left the supplies and took a helicopter down to report (he knew how to fly it, and that was apparently how he got there. Why I had to climb up with the supplies still baffles me.) Regardless, we were quite disappointed by the reception. It was hostile and discouraging. It changed after that, but I don't remember the rest particularly well.

But this is not a post about dreams. No, it's a post about motivation. In that dream, I was motivated to do those things, despite discouraging circumstance.I must be motivated to write and to make videos despite discouraging circumstance. But I do not feel like I am. I feel like I have no reason to continue doing so. In the dream the prospect of flying helicopters or going up in a rocket was motivation enough, but as for writing, it's difficult and frustrating at times. Making videos is fun, but editing and uploading them takes so much time that I'd rather spend doing other things, because I get so little time to do things I like to do on my own. I know I need to do it. But finding the motivation for it is incredibly difficult. As it is, I am only writing this because I know I must write something today. And this maybe all I manage for the day. I don't even know if I will feel bad for that. So far, this has been a semi-productive writing session, in terms of volume. And in terms of my honest feelings as well. Whether it is entertaining or not is another matter, but honestly, I'm not sure any of my hits are actual people reading it, so maybe I don't need to be entertaining. Whatever, I'll see what I can do.

Rites of Passage

The day was rapidly approaching that he would cross the threshold into adulthood. The elders warned him to stay away from the old stone path, but all his friends had done it the year before, but he could not bring himself to do it yet. They teased him and taunted him.

It was on the heels of a particularly sharp barb that he decided to do it, that very night. He and his friends all gathered in a field near the path. It was a crisp autumn night, and the moon shone brightly.

The group slowly made their way to the edge of the path. There it stood before them. His spirit shrunk back from the gravity of the ritual, but he stood firm. He took one step, then another unto the path. His friends were cheering for him and he grew more confident.

Just as he was about to reach the middle a bright light struck him and a terrible sound froze him in his tracks. His friends called to him to run, but he could not move. As it was bearing down upon him he tried to go back, but it was too late. He flew into the air from the impact, and his lifeless body landed by the side of the path, in a pool of blood. His friends scattered.

The next morning a game warden came down the road in a battered old pick up truck. Seeing the body, he lifted it into the bed of the truck. "One less to worry about," he said as he made a mark on a tally sheet. As he drove on, he thought of his son. They were going to go deer hunting next weekend, and it would be his son's first time.

The Problem With "If Everyone Else Jumped Off A Bridge..."

Note: The following essay is derived solely from personal observation.

So, you've probably heard the retort: "If everyone else jumped off a bridge, would you do it, too?", maybe from a parent whose child wants something unreasonable (or not so unreasonable), and uses the justification "But everyone else is getting it/doing it/has it!" Maybe your own parents said it to you, or you've said it to you kids. It doesn't have to be a strict parent/child conversation, it could be a conversation between any two people, really. I've heard it come from friends, co-workers, miscellaneous family members, teachers, and probably people with other relationships to the addressee as well, in both the media and in my own life.

There are several problems with this retort. First, and most obviously, it's implying that the person (and whoever else is doing this thing) is somehow stupid or at the least in possession of so poor judgement as to do whatever's popular, regardless of the practical consequences. It always came off as quite insulting and not a little condescending to me, as if the person saying it (especially if that person is an authority figure, like a parent or teacher) did not think highly of the other and thought this person would be so horribly lost without them. Putting someone on the defensive doesn't seem like it's likely to get your point across.

Second, it's usually a completely inappropriate comparison. For example, a teenager wanting to get a tattoo might argue that all their friends are getting tattoos, thus prompting their parents to reply with "If all your friends jumped off a bridge...". While it is true that there are some dangers associated with tattooing, as well as some social stigma in certain groups, among other legitimate objections, there's no real comparison between getting tattooed and jumping off a bridge. Some might argue that the "jumping off a bridge" is just arguing following the group to an absurd conclusion to get the point across. Does it get the point across? Would the teenager in this hypothetical suddenly realize that following the group is not always a good idea and reconsider their stance? I'd hazard to guess probably not.

Third, the argument tries to break the person away from their chosen in-group, which usually leads to poor results. I may write more extensively on my understanding of the dynamics of in-groups and out-groups later, but for this post, I'll simply say that tribalism is alive and well, and people rarely like to go against their chosen tribe, and there are many reasons for this sociologically and perhaps other reasons ranging from the practical to biological.

This was a thought that occurred to me today. And as I consider it, it seemed to me that saying such a thing serves no real purpose, other than to express contempt for the idea or the people who embrace the idea. Should parents and teachers really use this sort of retort on children, especially young children?

Updates and things

It's been awhile since I posted anything, so I thought I'd update you on what's going on. While I have ostensibly working on a NaNoWriMo project, that I do not wish to post until completion, I've not been working hard enough on it, nor have I been writing as much as I should. The past several days have seen little writing from me at all. However, I hope to change that and get back on track again. I've sort of used dreams I've had as a sort of crutch, as it were, and I haven't had any that I remember recently. Or rather none that I remember enough of to make a post about. To be honest, that is good, because it should force me to write other things. However, it has not had that effect, and instead I have written nothing, or very, very little for the past week or so.

There may be a part or two of Chapter 1 that I have yet to post, but I have stalled on it. I feel like I'm falling into my old habit of getting bored with writing and wishing to move on to other things. I do not have that luxury, and I will not allow myself to entertain that thought for long. Y'all can expect more writing soon, and I'm going to try to get back on track with daily postings.

Thanks for reading!

Dreams From Last Night X

It's been a few days since I've written anything, but I had some strange dreams last night. The first involved my partner Rachel and I. I was in some sort of video game-esque mission, involving assassinating particular people in some sort of military complex. I tried it several times, and I was aware that there was a way that you could do it without getting caught, but I didn't succeed and was eventually thrown into a sort of strange prison. There was a way to escape, however, and that's when Rachel became involved. At this point, it was more like a tapletop RPG with a GM and such. It was supposed to be Rachel who got us out, evidently, as she was instructed to find it. It was a strange place with a sort of desert floor, and a large tree in the middle. The kind of tree with the openings in the trunk. There were also massive archives of books, one of which held the key to our escape. We were looking for a particular book, marked with a catalog number that began NCC. We did not ind it in the archives, and Rachel had a conversation with the GM which with them saying "Ththe Gen, go look in the one place you haven't yet," by which they meant the top of the tree. We climbed up and in the center of the treetop was a large ant colony guarding the book. I have a vague notion that they were fire ants, but I can't be sure. Regardless, the GM said we had found the "worst queen of kings" whatever that was supposed to mean. I recall Rachel going for the book, and thinking that too many stings could be fatal, but nothing more after that.

The second dream began with my partner Kai and I meeting a friend of mine and discussing a nearby town that was apparently some sort of conservative utopia. We decided to check it out on a lark. Turns out, my subconscious doesn't really know what a conservative utopia is, because it seemed more like a communist collective than a conservative paradise, honestly. There were no taxes (a seemingly conservative thing), but there were no stores either. All money was communal, and you were given food based on your work output, whatever your work happened to be. I actually wanted to live there, and the person who was speaking to us about it said they needed people, because they were slowly running out of money (which honestly makes sense). I said well, we couldn't afford much, saying $500 was our limit. He said that if we bought a house for $500 (which is less than we pay in rent for this apartment), we would actually get two houses, because they were that desperate for money and people. I thought this was fantastic, and started looking around the town for a suitable house. There was a trailer that met the price that I was not particularly found of, as the idea of living in a trailer did not appeal to me, but we decided to check it out anyway. Kai and my friend were no longer with me, but instead my brother was. I've no idea why. But as we were checking out the house, a group of kids followed us in. Some of the lights didn't work, but the electricity was still on. I started to get the sense that the place was dangerous and in the kitchen, there was some desserts on the counter. One of the kids tried to get a drink of water from the faucet, but the water was brown. I suggested that they leave, as there was nothing here for them, but they were reluctant. I took a piece from one of the desserts and tasted it, and showed them that it was stale and told them to leave. Some of them did, but one wanted to say. I had to resort to threatening to tell the kid's parents (whom I had never met). However, I finally got them out the door, and locked it behind them, which might have been a bad idea. My brother, apparently, was searching the house for money. Like, robbing the place. I have no idea why, However, the tone of the dream had shifted at some point. The house/trailer belonged to a family that were essentially pirates or bandits of some sort. My brother found a purse full of change and picked it up. Then we somehow wound up with a sort of tour group. But the tour guide was possessed or something, and wanted the purse. So we returned it, only we emptied it first. Other things happened, but they are too vague to recall.

Dreams From Last Night IX

Only one I remember in any detail. There was a street fair type thing down the street from my apartment and the main attraction, evidently was Vanilla Ice. Yes, the rapper Vanilla Ice. My partner Kai and I went to check it out and found that Mr. Ice was signing autographs. we were going to go up to the table, but he went off with some girl for a moment. We'll get back to that in a minute, but I wanted to point out that there was a sign on the table saying that autographs were $519.93 a pop. Why? I have no idea.

Anyway, the girl was apparently a foamslinger and she fought a couple rounds with Mr. Ice. I distinctly remember Vanilla Ice using a teardrop shield and a flail, and the young girl using a small round shield and a dagger. We watched them fight and when they were finished I asked to look over the gear. I was sufficiently impressed, so much so that I forgot all about Vanilla Ice and instead wished to speak with this young girl. And young she was, though exactly how young is hard to say. She invited us to come to her house where her parents were cooking out, and we could hang out in the pool while we waited. We went to the place and there were her parents getting ready to get in the pool. They seemed to dislike Kai and I for no apparent reason, so we elected to it and wait. However, somehow I got splashed and Kai advised me I should cover myself, as I was wearing a white shirt. There was more, but it is all very disjointed and fuzzy.

Dreams From Last Night VIII

The following sequence of events was very confused, because I kept waking up and falling back asleep. The earliest I can remember, I was in a place that looked like it could easily be a Mario level. I was on a raised platform over water. For whatever reason, I was talking with a girl or two girls I knew from high school, and I seem to recall plans being made to go visit with one of them. It must have been so, because I began packing clothes, and I put on no less than three layers of clothing for some reason. I remember planning to jump in the water and hoping that things wouldn't get ruined, but I never did, instead finding myself going down the stairs in my parents house and being in the living room. I went out the door and got in my car, someone was with me, but I can't recall who it was. But I drove around town to get to the place I was going. I seem to recall picking someone up or something, because I had to pull into a drive way and there were large dogs laying in it. I, of course, did not wish to hit them, and when we were leaving, I hit a tree to avoid them, crushing the driver's side fender. But I didn't care, and merely continued on.

We arrived at the place and it was a place I knew well, the friend's house where I used to go to play tabletop games. The girl, as it turned out, became an amalgamation of girls I knew from high school. I remember I was still wearing the three layers of clothing and carrying three books. One of the books was, apparently regarding fallacies of Christian beliefs or historical inaccuracies of the Bible or the like, and I seemed to regard it as the most important. There was a big dog, maybe a blood hound, it's hard to recall, who kept jumping on me. I've never liked being jumped on by dogs, and even less as it seemed to be tearing up one of my books, and one of the skirts I was wearing. I was not pleased. Finally we made it to the bedroom/attic and the dog was sent away. at this point I decided to change into a single set of clothes, while my friend (who appeared to be comprised of two hardcore Christian girls I knew, and a couple others who weren't) browsed the books. My friend Jimmy, who I've mentioned died in a car accident many years ago, made a brief appearance, and even in the dream I was aware he was dead, perhaps because I kept waking up and was not fully asleep at the time.

At some point, however, the dream changed. I was still in the same place, but I was no longer with any of my friends, instead I was with some 1950s-esque teenagers having a party. This image was reinforced by the fact that I appeared to be Elvis Presley and I was singing and playing my guitar. I was accompanied by an awkward young man who didn't appear to have a date, and strongly resembled Zack from Saved By The Bell. I, being the person that I am, tried to help him gain some confidence, and it seemed that I worked, as one of the girls ended up sleeping with him. Suddenly, however, the scene changed, and I was reduced to the role of observer. The two of them were out in the woods, and the girl made mention of the fact that they'd had sex more than once. She said something to the effect that doing it out in the woods was to get to know the person, instead of the character he was playing at the party. Then, they spotted an observer. A jock-type, playfully smiling at them while peeking over the edge of a cliff. The girl laughed and said something that suggested she had previously had sex with him as well, and that she was about to again (?) and they both went to help him up. However, instead of climbing up, he pulled the girl off to her death, and tried to pull Zack off as well, but Zack stuck a thumb in his eye. The guy bit Zack's fingers, but eventually his eye popped out and he fell, but the fingers went with him. He got impaled on a tree branch, and did a kind of dying-coughing-laughing and said something that I don't recall. At this point the girl, quite dead, appeared back at the top of the cliff. It seemed clear she intended Zack harm, and he ran back to the campfire and lit it up. The girl, dead and mangled, walked into the fire light and... well, then I woke up.

Email Scammers

I was checking my email a moment ago, and I saw that I had a message on YouTube. Two, actually, and I was, naturally, curious as to what they were about, though it took me a second to realize that the email I was looking at was not the account linked to the YouTube account that I post videos on. Nevertheless, I was interested in what messages I had received.

Turns out they were both the same sort of scam. They said different versions of "Hey Alex, I'm the girl from the gym! Here's my profile on that site I was talking about, message me there ASAP to get this thing going!" And I was like my name ain't Alex and I don't go to the gym. Also, if you addressed me by my name, why do you introduce yourself as "the girl from the gym" and not "Alice from the gym" (one of the messages was from an account that had Alice as their first name). I mean, a vague "hey, I'm that girl you met at the gym" has a better shot, then trying to guess that someone named Alex will fall for this.

My second thought was does this actually ever work? Like seriously, do people forget they had conversations with random girls at the gym? Girls who don't give you their names and then message you on freaking YouTube? Google+, Facebook, email, sure. But a YouTube message? Really? Presumably, you've already hacked someone's Google account, or created fake ones to perpetuate this scam, and you choose YouTube as your mode of conveyance? Like, the only people I've ever interacted with via YouTube messages were people whom I had previously interacted with in the comments. Now that I'm older and wiser, I regret doing so, but it is, alas, far too late for that.

So, why would ever tell someone to message me on freaking YouTube instead of some social media site, or Skype,  or email, or text message? It's literally the last thing I would think of to suggest. Do people actually keep in touch via YouTube messages? Is this a thing?

I don't understand how anyone could possibly fall for such a blatant scam. It's as bad as the ones where the people call you and tell you they heard your computer is running slow, or that they are your credit card company and that your status is good, but they need some information. I just can't figure out why people fall for those things.

Dreams From Last Night VII

No high school dreams here, though one person that I knew from high school and still keep in fleeting contact with did turn up. The first and perhaps only dream I remember started out strangely and took many shifts over it's course, never losing the weirdness. First thing I remember, there was someone stranded on a tropical island. A large tropical island with many people on other parts, but somehow they were stranded, they may have been injured, but I'm not sure if my mind isn't adding that detail after the fact. Regardless, I may or may not have been part of a crew that was sent to rescue this person. Our ship was an old wooden sailing ship, and why not? We couldn't get too near the beach because of the rocks, but we sent a row boat over. Well, they found the person easily, and sent part of the away team back to the ship to report and to guard it, and the rest of us (I think) stayed on the beach with this fellow. After that, it got kind of really weird and nightmarish. I noticed, that some of our people had just up and vanished. We were frequently going back and forth from the ship, and there had been a large fire we started at night, but now... people were missing. I didn't like it one bit.

And so the first setting shift occurred. No longer was there a possibly injured castaway nor a sailing ship. The beach was replaced by a house. Not a scary, dilapidated old manse, or a rundown abandoned house. No, it was a bright cheery modern house. Single level, well-furnished, a nice place to live. Except there were still people missing. My friends were missing. Eventually I discovered that the wall behind a series of couches opened into some sort of maze. I think it was at least vaguely extradimensional (whatever that means), but I seem to recall that the walls became permeable rather than opening, and the rooms in the maze were connected almost randomly. In any event, it was here that I discovered my friends. I was quite glad, even more so when I managed to find my way back out with my good friend Mandy. Now, thinking I knew the way out, I advised her to wait out here while I went and found the others. I entered the maze once more. I found a group of people and told them I think I found the way out, but we agreed that if we waited in what we thought was a central location, the others would eventually find us.

This seemed like good sense to me, so we waited. I played a guitar to pass the time. I played far better than I play in real life, of course, and I was completely absorbed in my playing. Next thing I know, I'm out in the living room again, and only Mandy is with me. I panic, as one might expect. I recall thinking that maybe if you stand still long enough, the maze teleports you elsewhere, but I even in the dream that sounded stupid to me. I tore at the couch cushions, and the closets on the wall trying to get back in but to no avail. At this point the order of events becomes confused for me. I was still playing the guitar, and a friend of mine (the one from high school) come into the room and asks me what I'm doing. Naturally, I don't think about the tearing up the living room of this house, but of the playing and I say something about how he can still play bass in the band or something.

Then Mandy and I wandered outside and talked to some people, all the while I was still playing. We wandered back in to the living room, and finally I stop playing, and Mandy wanders into a different part of the house. I was absolutely terrified. I didn't know if she would disappear again or not, and I couldn't follow her, as I was paralyzed with fear and indecision. Then, at last, I got a message from my friend Ginny, saying that she was sorry that they were taking so long getting food and they were on their way back now. The sheer amount of relief I felt cannot be adequately expressed in words. Then I saw my dear partner Rachel walking past the window to the door, and I very nearly lost control. I ran to the door and greeted her by throwing my arms around her and nearly crushing her with enthusiastic hugs. She seemed equally happy to see me, and I was glad.  The entire experience had been a terrible ordeal for me, although, apparently, I didn't always recognize it. I was so very glad to have them all back.

There were other snippets of dreams, but I believe I will leave them out this time. I don't feel like writing anymore, after I've written and remembered all that. The emotions are too strong. When I think about the terror I felt at the thought of losing my friends, and my partner, of my own inability to act, and of the things that I should have done (like check on Mandy) and the horrible realization that I cannot be sure that what I saw at the end was truly the return of those important to me, or some horrible trick of the maze or the house.... Maybe I should let it go. "It was all just a dream," but then again, the emotions and their effects are absolutely real.