Well, Isn't it Ironic

Many occurrences as of late have been causing me to wonder if there is a luck based deity who finds causing tribulations in my life to be humorous. I'll tell someone one thing, and the exact opposite will happen. I go to do something routine, and I'm either injured, comically perplexed, or possibly soiled in some manner. At first, these coincidences were irritating me to no end. Now that I've been through enough to become numb to my horrid state, I look back at the events and chuckle a little inside.

Do tell...

Last night, I tried to brush my teeth with my mechanical toothbrush. I've been using my regular one for a while as my mechanical one ran out of energy and all the AA batteries we had were somehow depleted. Even the unopened ones were dead. I've never had that happen before. Anyhow, I purchased some new batteries and placed them into my toothbrush and began brushing. Not but a minute later, I found I was in moderate pain as my lip caught in the mechanism. It was pinching and rotating a small portion of my lower lip rather painfully. I turned it off and looked at the injury. It added yet another blood blister to my already sore mouth. I had apparently suffered from a nightmare two nights before and bit myself several times. My toothbrush is dangerous.

For another frustration, I turn to the operating that everybody loves to hate, Windows Vista. I don't mind the system much, I just wish developers would just accept that it's the new OS and program for it. Well, I've had trouble upgrading it to service pack 1. When I installed it, my internet adaptor would stop working. I finally fixed this problem by the time service pack 2 came out. I immediately upgraded and right after it finished, I received a warning from Windows. My C: drive apparently only had 200MB left one it. Yes, SP1 and 2 were approximately 8 GB is size. As I soon found out, similar to what I mentioned before, there weren't any programs able to expand the partition without deleting half the drive. I called it a night and told myself I would fix it tomorrow.

I felt fresh as I woke up the next day and decided I would put the energy to reviving my now slowing computer. I researched what I could do for about 3 hours. The conclusion people in a similar situation came to was to run a linux boot disk and move the partitions with that. I thought it odd being a completely different OS, but it sounded simple enough. I just needed to burn a CD and boot it up. Two hours of laborious searching later, I found some empty CDs and was getting ready to burn. I clicked on my burning application and my computer crashed. Another hour later, I found the disk that came with the burner, installed it, and I was ready to go. My computer then informs me that all of the CDs I put in were unusable and/or corrupt. The burner that I rarely ever use chose to die at the most inopportune moment. I eventually got everything working with the use of another computer, several more programs, and a few days worth of fairly intense frustration. I get the feeling my computer hates me.

Vehicles can be a major source of frustration, but they are a neccissary evil. I named my little red Civic "Shippo." The name comes from a little cartoon fox I fell in love with many years ago. I knew that Shippo's timing belt needed to be replaced, and the valves needed to be adjusted, so I set a month I would take it in and planned on the amount it was appraised for. Then, it being summer in Texas, my air conditioning went from being weak to completely failing. That and a few other occurrences of everyday life set the repair back two months. This would just so happen to land the repair time on the date my inspection and registration stickers expire. I push the date back another month and then realize I need my oil changed and the fuel filter replaced. Shippo's "injuries" were finally saved up for about five months after the original date, but it's been fixed. A maxed out credit card, two cleaned out bank accounts, and almost half the value of the car later, I'm driving with confidence. Nervousness overcame me a few days later when an odd warbling noise was emitted from the engine compartment. Shippo must hate me.

Not all oddities in occurrence are necessarily bad. I've been turning down playing with a small band with friends and relatives because my electric piano had a bad speaker. I figured it was a short or some crossed wires, and I'm sure I'll have it fixed next time some disposable income comes my way. At least, this is what I though after heading home after a get-together with said friends and relatives. I sighed and turned on my piano and plucked out a few notes feeling a bit forlorn. To my surprise, the sound came out as clear as day. My piano has revived itself for me! I wish all of my possessions would take a lesson from this show of loyalty.

For now, rather than dreading what may come, I await what the schizophrenic nature of life has to throw at me. Hopefully, it makes for some good reading.

Fireflowers

For yet another year I venture out in the early night, bitterly realizing how hot summers can be in Texas. Sometimes I wonder if it's worth sweating near the wafting smoke and booming echos that immediately set off a medley of car alarms. When I was a kid, it was almost a tradition to sit in the parking lot at my mother's work and watch a nice, professional show done to music that was inevitably blaring out of someone's car. It was nice, rather uncomfortable, but nice. My younger sister was born around this time, I was eight, and when the lights went off they would fascinate her. Of course, the lights were followed by a large boom that caused her to attempt to drown out the music with a high-pitched scream. Ah, the memories.

Do tell...

That tradition died after a while and I set off making my own firework shows with friends outside the city. While it was fun setting them off, I always seemed a bit disappointed with their minuscule flare and a barely audible pop. The most interesting thing about making your own firework shows was there's about a 90% chance someone is going to light something on fire. There was also the experimentation of dropping black cats down a crawdad hole to see what would happen. Then there was the usual fun of finding things to blow up or launch into the night sky. These annual events usually became rather uninteresting after around the fourth hour of waiting in the emergency room with your dumb friend. At least you get nearly infinite laughs out of the following taunting and teasing, as if anyone could ever live that down. You'd think people would learn after the first time they set themselves aflame.

I've since moved on and have joined back into the yearly routine of just waiting for the right time, going outside with a full stomach, and watching the sky light up. I've done this the past three years in a row and it's gotten better every time. You sit and talk with family while you stuff your face, wait for it to get dark, and then let the show begin. Everyone sits out in the heat in a big, tight-nit group and they let the "oohs" and "ahhs" flow like a fountain. I, on the other hand, do my best to name the type of every firework I see. I was very excited to spot every one of my favorites this year, plus a few I've never seen before. To my surprise, the 8 month-old made hardly a peep, even when it seemed all the car alarms were going off at once. The size of the larger bursts were staggering at times, made more impressive by the following ear-popping boom.

All in all, tonight's display is one of the best I've seen. I hope to remember it for a long time to come. Of course, sharing this experience with loved ones just made the fireworks seem that much brighter.

Cartoons in the US

I've noticed a growing trend in the world of cartoons lately. Cartoons in the US are supposed to be for kids, and for a few exceptions, they've been going a more simple-minded route. I enjoy seeing cartoons that try to break away from that. Some good examples are the ever popular Family Guy and Aqua Teen Hunger Force. In fact, the majority of the Cartoon Network line-up has become a staple of my viewing diet.

Do tell...

The one thing I've observed most over the years is the simplicity with which the animation of a US cartoon is going. While Japan is going for more realism and dramatic effect, we've seemingly chosen to go the other direction. The US has developed a simple style with usually cornball humor and/or satire, along with the occasional shock value added in. This is great for a casual and relaxing viewing experience, but I wonder if the viewer is lacking something one would normally find in a serial cartoon. Nothing ever progresses in an American cartoon. This may be why Japanese cartoons are a hit with the younger audience in the US. They present a more robust cast and a story-line that usually progresses into some sort of conclusion.

American cartoons are going the route of the American sitcom, and I really don't want to see that happen. Cartoons are a wonderful form of entertainment, and as world famous director Hayao Miyazaki has proven, they can be a stunning form of art.

Apocryphal Fantasies

I was going to rant about something more tangible considering my last post, but my wants don't necessarily line up with my "creative juices," so to speak. Instead, I'll ponder with you another one of my side-line curiosities of human nature. I've seen many shows, commercials, and other forms of advertising that all claim or strive to "make lives better." This isn't really a bad thing per se, as with television, people want to sit down and have an experience they can leave satisfied with. I completely understand that humanity struggles to find its place in the universe and feel if not a sense of joy, then maybe something lighter. My only problem lies with the extent of which people are trying to push this to and the methods they use.

Do tell...

News is there to frighten you into believing that one must heed their reports in order to survive in this crazy and depraved world. It gets the producers and television companies money and in-turn makes them "happier." The viewers are supposed to leave with a sense of accomplishment that they are better informed and therefore, their lives will be improved. Ads selling various forms of objects and consumables all claim that you can't live without these products. Their "stuff" will make you cooler, taller, stronger, more attractive, et al. These ideals are great, but what it boils down to is an artificial lump at the deepest core of reality. Perfection in life does not exist.

Some may say this is just pure negativity, but I don't see it as that. Reality is ebb and flow, push and pull, give and take. One cannot achieve happiness without sadness or loss, but no one is going to buy into something that makes them more depressed. I've read many books about theoretical utopia and heard many a song about paradise. It all seems fake. This eternal lust for perfection in life just leads to stress, want, greed, and eventually apathy and discontent. Many have lost sight of what they have while seeking what they think they need. Though I do not admit myself any better at seeing this than most, it still bugs me to this day. I would rather not strive for a utopia in this world, just for life to suck a little less sometimes.

I wonder if anyone has found their own utopia. It seems like it's not something you can find if you search for it.

The Growth of Cynicism

I notice as I get older, everything becomes more doubtful and negative. While this makes ranting more interesting, I wonder what I may be lacking in following my self proclaimed "realist" view. There's a saying that ignorance is bliss, but if one is learned and is always in the pursuit of seeking knowledge, one is screwed. I've personally tried to erect a nice facade of ignorance to suit others views of what I should be. That facade only hurt and caused me to distance myself from others. So what is one to do if one is intelligent and well read? The answer is quite simple; learn sarcasm and cynicism. It might come easier than expected!

Do tell...

I was told many times as a child that I look down too much. I was told I looked like I was depressed and if I just looked up I'd feel much happier. I tried that and came to the decision that the sun is too bright and I hate fluorescent lighting. Only a few years ago I read a caption to a web comic called Ozzy & Millie that said "When I look down, I miss all the good things in life; but when I look up, I just trip over things." This clicked with me instantly. Finally, a viewpoint consistent with my own experiences and that I understand! Now, I not only follow the path of scientific enlightenment; I follow the path of cynicism, curious disbelief, and general misanthropy. Call it a bad personality or a "problem" if you will. I call it a life choice.

More on this later if I feel the need...