Wow

Okay, so I’ve completely been neglecting this site. I took some serious time off to focus on school and managed to graduate. I got done with the last assignment on Saturday and now I just have to wait until the 16th when I walk and they give me my diploma.

I can’t believe it’s been five years since I decided to go back to school. Time flies so fast.

So pretty much none of the goals I had when I started this site have been attained. I’ve not lost any great amount of weight. I’ve not become a hub of sociological thought online. I’ve not really done anything with this place.

As the english say, in french, “c’est la vie” such is life.

But I did graduate. Now I get to enter the real world. At least until I get in to grad school.

Peace.

It’s your day.

Happy Birthday, son.

Wherever you are I hope you got everything you needed, a few things you wanted, and a nothing you didn’t.

Racism?

I’m a member of a few social networking sites. Myspace, Facebook, Atheist Nexus, and a place called OkCupid. OkCupid is an entertaining site as it mashes up a dating site like Yahoo personals or Match.com with a social network site like Myspace. I have some fun on there and have met a few entertaining people. But what sucks the hours right out of my day is the forums.

Just like any forum there are varied and sometimes quixotic topics ranging from “how many drinks would it take to sleep with the poster above you” to “critique my profile.” Today though, I was looking through the forums and ran across this topic titled “In the name of God…” It was started by a thirtysomething white male in response to a few emails he had received.  Apparently the original poster (OP) specifies on his profile that he is only looking for a single white female. The person who emailed the OP inquired about this and wondered if he would be willing to “give up on all other races and possible love connections just because they are not white.” The OP responed to this by relegating his choice in skin color on his potential mate to the same level as hair and eye color, weight, or height. The woman emailing the OP brought in God and made the OP out to be a racist and herself to be more enlightened because she’s a God-fearing woman and the OP must not be. What followed has been a flurry of topic responses calling him prejudiced, racist, a bigot, and many others. There are plenty of responses that back the OP, but far more that denounce his choice of potential mates.

So I have been wondering, is this man’s exclusion of several ethnicities from his pool of potential mates based on racism or on a measurement of attraction he has no conscious control over?

Poetry

I took a poetry class in the fall semester of 2008 and here is the outcome of that endeavor. I wrote several free-verse poems; Hate, I Run, and Splash. My favorites though were the ones with form. Hubris, a villanelle was the hardest of the bunch to draft. Reality, an Italian sonnet was a challenge because of the subject material, but still fun. Lastly, Skyline is the one I wanted to write from the very beginning of the class, but took the longest to write and was by far the most difficult. It is a series of haiku written about this picture. I don’t know the story behind it, nor do I know anything about him, but I hope the poem did the event justice.

• Hate
• Hubris
• I Run
• Reality
• Skyline
• Splash

You don’t say…

So I’m checking my email this afternoon and get a reply from a professor regarding a really late paper I turned in. (It was due November 10 and I turned it in yesterday.) At first I was completely terrified of reading his reply. I was so afraid he was going to tell me that I was going to get no points for the paper or that I had to have some serious audacity to turn in the paper so late. Surprisingly enough, none of that was in his message. It was short, to the point, and completely unexpected. In fact, I’m still dumbfounded and reeling from my initial read-through of his two sentence email.

He called me brilliant.

WTF, Mate?

I’ve slipped. Slipped back into a depressed slump. I’m trying to focus on my work and get back on track, but all I can seem to concentrate on is this near-overwhelming feeling that I need to lay down and cry. Right now I really wish I could do just that. I feel like there’s something welling up inside me and the stopper on my bottle won’t come loose; maybe if I was able to just get a good cry going I’ll feel better. I can’t though, maybe because in western American society it isn’t acceptable for men to show emotion at all let alone cry, but maybe it’s because I don’t really have anything to cry about.

I have three papers due in less than a week. In reality this shouldn’t be difficult to accomplish. I’m trying to work on one as I sit and write this, but as can be seen I’m getting distracted. I don’t want to pull an all-niter on Sunday because I’ve procrastinated this working time away. I don’t want to be distracted by these irrational feelings either.

I’ve been doing so well for so long. I haven’t had an episode like this in almost two years. I know this isn’t my fault and I know this is just a disease with no real cure, but I still wonder how long I’ll be sabotaging my success because of it.

Depression has been my constant companion for longer than I could define it. He is constantly trying to derail my every plan and all my life’s ambitions. I’ve let it absolutely destroy my life once, but did not realize it until I awoke one day curled up in the shadow of a trash dumpster. I had lost my son, my job, and I thought my will to go on as well. My mother helped me then and it was because of her sacrifice that I now wake up in my own apartment with a job I’ve held on to for the last four years and a future I never thought possible.

I can’t let it win.

Dreams and Portents

Cliche I know, but it felt right.

It’s quite normal to daydream and fantasize about things. What isn’t normal, or at least what doesn’t feel normal, is being a bystander in your own fantasy. In recent months, when I’ve fantasized or daydreamed about whatever may come to mind, I find myself relegated to supporting cast. I’m not the hero, I’m not the villain, I’m not even a plot device; just a random guy in the crowd.

For example: I used to fantasize about being Captain America, Professor Xavier, Magneto, or Dr. Strange. Now though, I find myself in background roles; often being one of the unfortunates who are killed in the destructive path of the villain before the heroes can stop them.

I feel as if I’m not special, not unique, not cared about, nor wanted. I know none of this is true, but it’s there all the same.

Now I have to discern what to do about this. How do I fix this? Is there anything to fix? Is there something wrong with me? Unfortunately I don’t know the answers to any of these questions.

And for someone who prides himself on being able to find the answer to whatever question is thrown at him, this situation just makes me mad.

Interesting searches

I find it interesting that someone has been searching for the name drakkar harley. I wonder if it is someone who has read my story and remembered the name, or if it is someone who knows my son, or if it is my son.

Wow. That’s a scary thought. He will be 12 this December and more than old enough to use a computer. I was pretty computer savvy at that age. Did he just get curious? Is his adopted parent doing this search?

Questions I’ll never get an answer to I guess. I better put these thoughts away or I’ll drive myself insane. But if it is you, Drakkar, who happened to run across this site; as much as it scares the hell out of me to say this, I’ll answer any questions you may have.

Yes we did

As the world well knows, on November 4, 2008, the United States voted to elect Barack Hussein Obama to be it’s 44th president.

I volunteered for the Obama campaign that day. I was asked to drive out to Republic, a short 15 miles from Springfield, because they needed more help than any of the Springfield offices did. It was a small office in the corner of a shopping center; decorated with every bit of campaign paraphernalia they could find. We were going out to canvass neighborhoods to ensure Obama supporters knew where their polling place was and that they actually got out to vote.

I was astounded to learn that I would be one of three team “captains” because I could drive and I knew the area. They needed people like that because, unbeknown to me, the Obama campaign had bussed almost 50 volunteers from Texas to Missouri. Not just for the 4th either; they had been in Missouri since Saturday. I was amazed, touched, and embarrassed all at the same time and all for the same reason; these people spent their time and energy to volunteer in a place they had never been before, to help people they had never seen before, to help a candidate they believed in, but I only had time for a single day.

I have always said that the faith most important to me is the faith I have in human potential. I will always remember November 4, 2008 as the day that faith was proven to be fact. There is no limit to what humans can do when we work together.

And did we work. I drove and we walked and the hours just slipped through our fingers as we knocked on door after door. After six very long hours the whole of Republic was finally canvassed. Then they sent me and six other out-of-town volunteers to a southern district in Springfield where a very large section of democrat-friendly voters had not been canvassed. Out we went again at 4:30. For the next two hours we rushed to talk to as many people as we could.

We were given two packets consisting of 8 streets each. I had been given two people. I gave them a street to walk and I took a street to drive. Thankfully the alignment in my car is still spot on. As I approached one of the houses on the list I would hop out of my car, let it continue rolling, talk to the person at the house, and then jump back in the car before it rolled away from their property. Dangerous, yes, but it allowed me to cover the same amount of ground as two people on foot.

It was 6:20, the sun had gone down, and the street lights were of no help in finding the addresses on our list, but I was able to talk to one last person. His garage door was open and I found him sitting outside enjoying a cigarette. I introduced myself, told him I was with the Obama campaign, and asked if he had voted yet. He told me he hadn’t and that he wasn’t sure if he was registered. I was kind of stunned. I said “sir, you’re registered to vote. And if you’re sure you are registered to vote, but your polling place doesn’t have your name on the rolls, they have to give you something called a provisional ballot. It’s only 6:25, your polling place is not that far from here, and if you are in line by 7pm they have to let you vote. This is possibly the most important election you will ever have the change to take part in. Don’t pass this up.”

He looked at me for a second, glanced at the ground, and then looked at the clock hanging on the wall in his garage. “You know what? Fuck it” he exclaimed as he dashed over the get the helmet for his scooter. “I’ve still got time right? And they have to let me vote right?”

“Yes sir they do. Thank you sir!” My heart was pounding as he drove his scooter off into the night.

I don’t know whether he was able to vote or not, but I am so excited he tried.

It was projected that Greene county only needed to have 42% of the vote for Obama to take the state. We capped out at 41%. Our efforts made this state undecided even three days after the fact. 5859 votes separate the two candidates.

That night, as I sat with a few friends watching the results at a downtown restaurant, I was speechless as I watched Senator McCain stroll out onto that stage and concede the race. The place erupted in deafening applause. A hard-fought campaign season was finally over. We could all rest, if only for a moment, and enjoy our victory. Now the hard work begins.

Yes we did.

Public Service Announcement:

GO EFFING VOTE!

Go here to find out where!

Now ends your PSA

Thank you