Tuesday, April 1, 2008


I felt like being creative, I'd do some kind of April Fools. Nothing really comes to mind. I'm trying to recreationally work on a screenplay or two while working on my music, movie and my various other classes which really hold little in relevance to my major. I am tempted to write about my thoughts about everything around me, but I'm not one to get angsty or, well, call anyone out if I wont do it face to face. Regardless, I'm pretty content. Just busy. Busy isn't bad. I do, however, intend to rant on about how there is so little in the ways of contemporary humility. Even those who seem to recognize that terrible things are happening around the world seem eager to control sadness and anger, seldom acting grateful. These aren't really people I know so much as other people I'm hearing through other's stories and through people I knew back home.
My father even made reference to this startling change. As a police officer, he was being trained on generation difference, mostly with regards to the latest generation, the stupidly named Millenniums. This is essentially the babied generation who never had to live through great stress, never had to exist in a time of true struggle and conflict that personally effected them, and was allowed an outlet for both vanity and encouraged self pity. My father was told that he'd have to treat them special. His reaction was just in that if one is to be a police officer, they should expect no special treatment and, if anything, less of a special treatment than that of anyone else. What's further deserting is it seems that the generation Y'ers like myself seem to get caught up. Their generation identity changes as the sweeping force of vain, self loathing, idol nature called the internet (yes I realize I'm using it, however I recognize that it can be used for good and not evil) sweeps them up. I hate to sound like my father, and actually agree with him on something that terrifies me, but they need the draft. They need something that will actually get them scared. Few of them really know pain, they only understand their own ability to sleep comfortably under the sheets of their own depression. Im not saying I'm any better, but I work, and I'm trying to do something.

On another note, reccomended reading for anyone who wants to feel truly humbled for at least a good hour.
Read The Rape Of Nanking by the late Iris Chang.

07 days run away vii_ c.r..mp3

Download it at mp3space.com

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