After receiving a lot of visits to this web journal from searches for the documentary I mentioned a month ago, I searched for it on Yahoo just now and got nothing, then tried again on Google and found that my entry was the first one. While it’s good to know that some word has gotten around about the film, the result also signalled that the visits were mostly by default rather than by any corollary interest. I said little about the movie that was original, and I hope nobody’s time has been wasted at this basically personal effort, my journal.
This WordPress, fortunately, provides statistical data: number of visits, page visited, and referring page or search term. The previous one, Windows Spaces, also did for a while, though less functionally.
So, the remainder of my visits (roughly one per day) come from Facebook, I assume by my aunt, or else Jonie, a bored contact of mine from the Philippine Islands. Possibly my mother still pays attention occasionally. [Well, perhaps it’s some automated thing from Facebook.]
At some time, I intend to do something more usable by putting up some language aids here, or on a new one…
So, any way, I have spent two or maybe three days now flaming people on-line who think it’s their job in the world to go around vomitting digital nonsense and hatred in the direction of me and my community. Mostly, I’ve been commenting on the Church and BYU, though it started with Libya… At last, my energy is spent, and I’ll try to return to unconcern.
I do fear that the world is doomed… Atheists, mostly stuck-up little kids whose public schooling gave them a sense of legitimacy in socially victimising religious people, have become intellectually militant toward faith, if not yet actively militant. The action will follow. Beside that, we have a very weird, but perhaps predictable, anti-Muslim movement that has arisen, not the least fiercely among downtrodden conservatives, so abused by the leftist media that they are now growing up into abusers themselves. It all bodes very ill, to me… People’s minds seem to be solidifying around their own personal views, where broadness of mind was previously cherished. There’s a stench of distrust, and a ghostly image of fractured humanity, hanging in the air… I of course have had my internal conflict with Islam when I first learned it, as with every philosophy; but even if it hadn’t been resolved long ago, nothing, no amount of personal disagreement, would excuse me to persecute the innocent, as is becoming acceptable in some circles.
Yes… the world smells of violence… I’m not sure what I can do about it… Maybe I’ll continue my little comments and flames, one by one, and see if a single person isn’t enticed to drop their rage and peer into the heart of their enemy, to find something familiar there…
Tonight was a Korean YSA thing. I stopped by at first, but after I saw the programme, it seemed like an exact repeat of last year; dancing, drumming, modern nonsense… no food or any thing. I decided to save my three dollars.
The library is closing; I’ll wrap up later. I came here at about 23:10 or so because my room-mate made the unusual choice to go to sleep shortly before 11 p.m….
Now it’s nearly a quarter past 3. I went home at mid-night and watched some uninteresting movies on T.V., as well as the last part of “Matilda”, from the Roald Dahl book. I think I read that book before. I didn’t like that young actress when I first saw that movie, mostly because of her lisp… but this time, she reminded me of my step-sister, Samantha… whom I feel more and more regret toward as she grows up, since I remember being very impatient and unsympathetic toward her when she was small. We lost contact with her due to a private dispute between her mother and birth father (our step-father), involving her as well… After cutting himself out of what must have been an intolerable situation, my step-father seems to have never looked back. My mom (re-)discovered our step-sister on Facebook a year or more ago, and I tried twice to communicate with her, but wasn’t answered… I was a poor older step-brother; the memories rend me. I hope we can connect some day, though after being ignored, I’ve lost confidence to try to talk…
That Matilda also gave me imagination of my future daughter…
I’ll try to not spoil her… but it may not be easy…
So… on Friday I went to the ELC to meet my study-buddy, Jenjira. While there Inkyum (인겸) helped me re-meet Kim Kyeong-ji, whom I mentioned here nearly two months ago. Kyeong-ji was behaving extremely feistily to Inkyum, whom she knew better, but she was nice to me. As she was leaving, my and Jenjira’s usually lengthy studying had stalled a little, and I ended our meeting. Kyeong-ji and a friend were standing with-out the building, up on the side-walk, and they separated as I was going up the stairs. She retreated to her phone, but still was angling so as to cross paths with me, which I partially expected (in-side, I had heard her say to her friend something about speaking English, though I missed the context; I thought she might have been wanting more conversation practice). We talked again; she was on her way home. I’d earlier asked Inkyum and her if they wanted to go eat at the Cannon Centre, but he had been going home to eat in-stead. I asked Kyeong-ji again out-side, and after some consideration, she agreed to accompany me. I walked my bike along-side her on our way to the cafeteria.
She did an admirable job of eating well and finishing her food. The conversation was fair and sustained; I learned that she, from a family of Church members, identified naturally with religion rather than seeeming less aware or less experienced. Although she was very young and didn’t immediately draw a person physically, I thought that maybe we would become friends. We split up out-side the eatery, having spent… over two hours there, maybe almost three.
Later… Falling asleep…
(03/13 Su 22:44)
The time changed forward last night. Today, the Asian ward didn’t show up at all, even adjusting for unawareness of the time shift. I guess they had a stake conference.
I came home and argued more on some Yahoo articles. People seem absolutely paralysed by memories of Iraq, and willing to sacrifice any amount of human life in Africa and there if it means they can shed their stigma for having reached out to help their brother a decade ago. That stigma came from within, though… The American public has become schizophrenic, and hates itself no matter what it does. Its decline is inevitable.
Whence was this disease? The sixties, when America cut out its own heart to trade for promised freedom? No… It was Scopes, and the twenties, and the turn of the century… It was Darwin… it was the “enlightenment”, philosophy, and Lisbon… It was the “reformation”. It was the “rebirth”. It was the corruption of the Church, the schisms from truth…
It’s a diseased family tree we belong to, this race. Our genetics were flawed from the start. At the start, the “fall” of man brought him low, made him animal.
Our enemy, at the start… struck us a blow we could never heal from… And those who capitulated, perhaps, had only foreseen and foresworn our sad mortal reality.
What a strange world for a God to design…
Well, we’ve been given everything necessary.
All we need is time. Not here; this earth will never mature, since it’s always being replenished by the next generation of mindless young. In a million more years, they would still be making the same stupid mistakes; there would still be the same war of fear against courage. Surely it’s destined; surely, this is our natural selection; the young all devour each other, and then shed their mortal shells; and the more bloated become the less agile, while those who were first victimised can move freely. Our lives are for dying; our deaths are to live.
“Rejoice“, said Jesus, when you find your self on the losing side, in the minority, among the dead, in this blind world. For, ever so were the holy men who now occupy figurative thrones — who now have ascendancy, while the formerly high now grovel and despair, and see that the ladder they viciously clawed their way up was actually pointed down-ward, and from the beginning they knew it, and were reminded many times; but they craved self-destruction; or, they craved enslavement to those who would destroy them. They feared having power over their selves, so they gave it up to others — to those imps of “human nature”, those demon-spirits, those sick malevolencies of mind and soul whose emotional perversity no form of logic can cure.
Is democracy then vitally deficient? Well, we minority have a kingdom, any way. We answer gladly to God. But in the world, we try our best to mix theocracy into democracy, while our enemies try in-stead to dilute it with tyranny. Then, there is no democracy; it’s a temporary phase, a pivot between happiness and misery. …A see-saw, which our founders envisioned. Could they see the future? No, except for seeing the present, and extrapolating. They could sense a perpetuity of balance that would last as long as each side rapidly, repeatedly took their turn. The game will end some day, amidst a tremendous crisis… but it has lasted till now.
It was a good effort.
Maybe it all was a big, cosmic “good effort”… all these millions now draping themselves with beautiful lies, strutting up and down their hell-like runways, cheered by the devils who wait to snatch them and devour them. They all have a good chance, and most of them make some effort to escape their tormentors’ claws — not the necessary effort of boycotting the show, but a dramatic attempt all the same. Should I take it all as entertainment, to disperse the sorrow?
There’s no need for sorrow. These broken remains of our divine family will be raised again to life… and that’s enough detail.
If only I could see into the heart, and deeper still, into the potential, as God can… my sorrow would be as his: manageable.
In the first place, if only I had true sorrow. What it really is is just annoyance, and disgust. It’s so hard for me to actually care about people, to actually consider them my brothers, as soon as they do any thing at all against me…
Then, my first goal is sorrow, and pity; and next, peace.
Yesterday after skipping out on the Korean thing, I decided to go shopping. I took my bike through the back gate, at the middle, through Park Place apartments. A girl had walked out before me and gotten into her car.
Right as I was going down the few stairs to the parking lot, I saw the girl back her car out of her space as she turned to the right. A car was parked behind her, and she didn’t have a lot of room. “What a shame,” I thought in an instant, “if she doesn’t slow down and just hits that car behind her.” My very distrust of her driving had caused me to pause on those stairs, instead of descending them and riding out behind her; later, I regretted it, since I might have gotten her attention. As it was, I waited for her to leave. She didn’t slow down, and I only had time for a momentary whistle before she backed up directly into that car, smashing one of its rear lights, and cracking its fake bumper.
She looked over at me, and I shook my head at her… as is my habitual response to strange driving. She immediately changed gears and drove right back into her starting place, stopping her car and getting out. I didn’t wait for her. I remembered the last time I’d done the same thing…
It was out-side of the East Mill Creek stake centre, up the road passing the junior high school, some years ago in my mom’s truck, which has a little ball hitch on the back, that I stupidly punctured some car’s front bumper with after leaving early from a fire-side meeting. I felt financially broken at the time, except for some seventy dollars I had at home. I knew insurance or what ever would hurt me for more than I thought I could bear… Any way, I left, drove home, got that seventy dollars, drove back, and stuck it under their wind-shield wiper, aware that it probably wouldn’t cover the monopolistically high costs of repair…
So, any way, I expected that this girl at Park Place would feel pressured to take the full financial brunt if I was there as a witness. I didn’t know what fiscal situation she was in, and, thinking that she would probably try to interact with me, I instead left immediately as she was returning to her parking spot, so that she would have the freedom, as I once did, to respond how ever she was prepared to.
(Below are the photographs I took after returning from the store: (1) my view coming down the stairs, with the girl’s car on the right and the slightly damaged car on the left; (2) another view of the stairs and her dark car; and (3) the damaged white car.)
Yes, it’s possible that it was my fault; that she was hurrying out because she had seen me coming between the bars; but, despite that camera flash, I don’t think it was very light there, and I didn’t really see her looking at me. I don’t think she was looking at anything…
I remember that guy “Tanner” Some-body at LDSBC, who nailed me for about… how much was it? –About six-hundred dollars, I think, when… what was her name? –That Japanese student, my friend, hit his car with mine as I was helping her practice for her license. I think she paid me back half, and I didn’t ask for more, concerned that she couldn’t easily pay as a foreigner, and too cowardly to be a jerk about it. Any way, I know that people with the legal advantage can be unnecessarily liberal with their expenditures for car repair. If some body has to lose money in an encountre, it should be the one who will hurt the other person less. For such reasons, I felt no obligation toward the innocent car-owner whose vehicle was damaged that night.
So, what then? Tax and rob the rich? Have I gone socialist, just because some conservatives (not to mention independents and, yes, liberals too) are turning anti-Muslim? No; keep dealings equitable whenever possible. Tax flatly; there’s no need to hurt the rich, when instead you can easily cut your obese budget. Government inherently deserves no man’s income, and should receive for services only what tax-payers are willing to give for their fair value.
School’s almost over. I’m behind…