My uncle recently turned 60. To celebrate, we had a big party in a café, on the top floor. The ground level was open to regular customers.
Upon leaving for home, I was called out by an intoxicated student. His choice of subject was my coat, irrelevant ofcourse. Let's dissect why he chose to call me out.
In order to properly study this behaviour, we have to look at human beings as nothing more than animals. We are driven by urges, urges which are present in us today through natural selection. The urges and nature we showcase are present because these are proven effective for procreation. In this case, simple alpha male supremacy.
This certain student must have felt that I was a threat to his superiority, or that I was a target for him to prove his superiority.
By calling me out, he could show his alpha male status, thereby placing himself in a more positive position towards females.
My reaction, while seemingly savage and uncivilized, is natural. I wanted to rise to his challenge. I instinctively wanted to meet his challenge, to showcase that I was in fact superior to him.
By calling me out, he issued a challenge for supremacy.
In this case, I was stopped from confronting him by my company. Female company. Her natural urges were to protect her progeny, her cohort. I had already assumed the position as clear alpha male towards her, a simple challenge by a random student would not change my status. Therefore, her urge to stop me from meeting his challenge is logical, it is correct.
However, as I am not female, but male, my reaction differed. I had to meet his challenge. Not doing so, would be a sign of me forfeiting my position as alpha male to him. It would mean he would win, I would acknowledge him as the victor. This is something that no man can willingly do.
By rising to the challenge, we as men receive the chance to show our supremacy, in order to safeguard our progeny. This is our way of following natural selection. Humans who would willingly accept another as superior are genetically inferior to those who seek supremacy, and would cease to exist following the laws of natural selection. Therefore, my urge to confront him is natural, it iscorrect.
Upon being halted by my companion, I endeavoured to explain to her my reasons for needing to confront this challenge. This entry into my blog is a written attempt at putting into place these urges, these needs.
Simply put: Both the student's and my own actions are perfect showcases of alpha male behaviour. The challenger sought to establish himself as alpha, I sought to prove my status as alpha.
I wanted to walk up to him and confront him, intimidate him into backing down from his challenge. This, in an attempt to reestablish myself as the alpha.
Had he not backed down, it is clear it would have led towards (threats of) violence.
My awareness of these facts allowed me to back down, against my instincts.
I am still aware of the challenge coursing through me as I write this. I can still feel the shame of, forcibly, backing down and declaring him superior.
This simple act, which seems so commonplace and uncivilized, is so essential to human survival. This singular case is proof positive of humans being subject to urges and instincts brought to us by natural selection. Once more, a creature that backs down from a challenge is a creature that does not procreate, therefore is 'inferior'. These creatures will die out, and the challengers will remain.
This is why men are forced to act like 'savages' when challenged by strangers. It is why we are here today, what will determine whether we procreate or not.
zaterdag 3 oktober 2009
woensdag 6 mei 2009
When it rains, it pours
I found an old WIP story-entry I had forgotten about, figured I might as well throw it up here for some feedback, see if it's worth finishing up. Yes, no update for 2 months and then two stories in a single night, quite a change I know!
This is currently untitled, names and titles are still likely to change, but the storyline itself should be pretty solid as is.
Enjoy!
A muck covered trooper burst into the dank cellar of an old café, where his comrades were holed up. “They’re coming! We need to leave, now!”
Immediately the room erupted in an explosion of movement, shouting and packing of what sparse supplies were left. Veterans barked orders, men grabbed food and ammunition, and rifles were slung across shoulders. Marcus, who was the closest thing to a commander they had, quickly packed up the charts he had been studying.
He took hold of the man who had burst in and said to him: “I need numbers and an ETA, now!”
“Marcus… sir…”
“Dammit man, spit it out already. There’s nothing we can do about it now!”
“Our forward relay counted at least 15. He spotted them 2 miles from here, coming straight for us. I expect them here in 5 minutes, tops.”
Marcus digested the information with a pained look on his face. He didn’t need this, not now. He had been so close. A day more, perhaps two and he would have found it!
“The relay?” He asked the trooper.
“Dead, sir. They passed straight over his position, he couldn’t have survived.”
“Perfect… Just what we needed.”
Marcus looked at the bustle and raised his voice: “Alright men, listen up! We’ve got 5 minutes before they hit us and John here says there were 15 incoming, so don’t even think about putting up a fight. We’re leaving, now. Everything that’s not vital, we leave behind.
I want everyone outside and moving in 30 seconds!”
“What about me sir?” John asked.
“Grab your rifle and ammunition, take all the supplies you can carry and don’t forget your transmitter. We might still have a use for that thing if we can salvage another one.”
The men were quickly pouring out of the cellar, taking up positions behind debris to cover their comrade’s exodus from what had been their home and base of operations for weeks now.
They had been relatively safe here. Only one Locust had come anywhere near their hideout, but that was still considered one too many by most of the men.
Marcus had heard their complaints and fears, but refused to move to a safer location. He needed to remain here, he knew that here he could find a key, a solution, an answer.
No one remembers what the Locust are or where they came from. Most of the population was wiped out several generations ago. Ever since, what little men remained focused on staying alive and out of their hands. They weren’t concerned with history.
Scattered scraps of information could be found about the Locust if you knew where to look and were lucky, although it was mostly unintelligible gibberish. Marcus had found something better. He said he had found a way to stop them. He said he had found their weakness.
This is currently untitled, names and titles are still likely to change, but the storyline itself should be pretty solid as is.
Enjoy!
A muck covered trooper burst into the dank cellar of an old café, where his comrades were holed up. “They’re coming! We need to leave, now!”
Immediately the room erupted in an explosion of movement, shouting and packing of what sparse supplies were left. Veterans barked orders, men grabbed food and ammunition, and rifles were slung across shoulders. Marcus, who was the closest thing to a commander they had, quickly packed up the charts he had been studying.
He took hold of the man who had burst in and said to him: “I need numbers and an ETA, now!”
“Marcus… sir…”
“Dammit man, spit it out already. There’s nothing we can do about it now!”
“Our forward relay counted at least 15. He spotted them 2 miles from here, coming straight for us. I expect them here in 5 minutes, tops.”
Marcus digested the information with a pained look on his face. He didn’t need this, not now. He had been so close. A day more, perhaps two and he would have found it!
“The relay?” He asked the trooper.
“Dead, sir. They passed straight over his position, he couldn’t have survived.”
“Perfect… Just what we needed.”
Marcus looked at the bustle and raised his voice: “Alright men, listen up! We’ve got 5 minutes before they hit us and John here says there were 15 incoming, so don’t even think about putting up a fight. We’re leaving, now. Everything that’s not vital, we leave behind.
I want everyone outside and moving in 30 seconds!”
“What about me sir?” John asked.
“Grab your rifle and ammunition, take all the supplies you can carry and don’t forget your transmitter. We might still have a use for that thing if we can salvage another one.”
The men were quickly pouring out of the cellar, taking up positions behind debris to cover their comrade’s exodus from what had been their home and base of operations for weeks now.
They had been relatively safe here. Only one Locust had come anywhere near their hideout, but that was still considered one too many by most of the men.
Marcus had heard their complaints and fears, but refused to move to a safer location. He needed to remain here, he knew that here he could find a key, a solution, an answer.
No one remembers what the Locust are or where they came from. Most of the population was wiped out several generations ago. Ever since, what little men remained focused on staying alive and out of their hands. They weren’t concerned with history.
Scattered scraps of information could be found about the Locust if you knew where to look and were lucky, although it was mostly unintelligible gibberish. Marcus had found something better. He said he had found a way to stop them. He said he had found their weakness.
zondag 3 mei 2009
Suffering from writer's blog
Such a funny play on words really requires no extra explanation, but as I like pointing out the obvious:
I'll be adding some of my writing to this blog, as writing is something I enjoy doing and I feel having an audience can never hurt. First addition will be a short bit I wrote a few months ago. Without further ado;
Here I stand
Here I stand, my hands wrapped around her neck.
How it ever came to this, I have no idea. All I know is this beautiful creature I once loved and adored now hangs limp and lifeless in my embrace.
All I want to do is scream and shout, to cry until I can’t cry anymore, to lie down and die…
But I can’t. I feel myself letting her slip.
Her soulless form drops to the floor, a crumpled heap of flesh. My being cries out in pain, but my voice resounds throughout the room, a mocking laugh filling my ears. I hear someone, something, speaking in my voice.
“How does it feel? How does it feel to know you are responsible for her death? Does it hurt? Does it fill you with despair, knowing she is gone and will never return?”
I try to reply, but my voice won’t heed my commands.
“Weakling! I am in control now… And I have plans for you yet.”
Then, darkness.
I wake up to find myself in a small, white room. The walls are padded. Above my head is a large fluorescent lamp, moulded into the ceiling. The light hurts my eyes.
A voice, seemingly out of nowhere: “Ah, you’re awake, excellent excellent! We were starting to get worried about you!”
I try to speak, but my voice fails me, resulting in nothing more than a rasping cough escaping my throat.
“Now now, do be careful! We wouldn’t want you hurting yourself, no we wouldn’t!
You see… we have plans for you yet.”
I wake up to find myself seeking cover behind a pillar inside the remains of a building I can’t recognize. Someone appears to be shouting at me, but I can’t make out his words.
His face contorts as a blade pierces him from behind. The force with which the blade was rammed through his guts sends a spray of blood showering my face. I find myself being strangely devoid of emotion as I see the life drain from his face.
His body slumps to the ground, and I see the… thing… behind the blade. Its insectoid face seems to look at me inquisitively, then turns malignant. It charges at me, chirping something that somehow feels familiar to me. Before it impales me on its blade, my body sidesteps the attack. My arms shoot out and grab the creature by its shoulders. I am aware of the muscles throughout my body tensing as I use the creature’s charge against it, sending it spiraling into a pile of debris. The creature impacts the debris with a telling crunch. A trickle of greenish fluid that can only be blood oozes out from the debris. I’m left wondering what just happened to me, when I suddenly black out again.
“Wake up, number 12.”
My eyes open, and the glare of the fluorescent lamp greets me again. I squint in a feeble attempt to get used to the brightness.
“How good of you to join us, number 12”
The voice sounds sarcastic, irritated. I feel as though this is not the same voice I heard before, but I’m not sure. Before I can gather my thoughts, the voice resounds through my padded chamber again: “So far you’re somewhat disappointing, number 12. I believe it is time for you to prove your worth.”
I open my mouth to speak, but before I can utter a sound darkness overcomes me yet again.
I awake at a table. 3 faces look at me, expectantly. I see plates with loaves of bread on them, glasses of orange juice. I look down and find myself holding a newspaper. For some reason I can’t make out the words. A woman’s voice reaches my ears: “Well?”
The sound of her voice seems to break my spell, and I ask: “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
A small smile crosses her face as she calls me a scatterbrain. I can’t help but grin sheepishly as I remember how she’s called me that ever since we first met, 15 years ago.
“I asked if you wanted another cup of coffee before you go out to work.”
“Coffee? Oh, yes, coffee, please.”
She pours me a cup of coffee. I suddenly get a feeling of deja-vu as the smell of the coffee reaches me. It feels as though my blood turns to ice where I sit as terror grasps me.
“Are you feeling alright dear?” She asks me.
“….run…” I whisper as I suddenly remember why I feel so scared.
She looks at me, fear and wonder trading places on that beautiful face of hers.
The 2 children sitting at the table ask her what’s wrong with daddy.
She doesn’t reply, her eyes locked to mine.
She sees what I see, what is about to happen.
The children pick up on the feeling of dread between the two of us, and start sobbing softly.
I hear her hiss for them to run, now, to go next door to uncle Jim and aunty Elly.
Between sobs the eldest says they don’t want to, they want to stay with us, but she yells at them to go, now!
Crying, he grabs his younger sister’s hand and runs out the door.
I slowly get up from my seat. She mirrors my action, moving slowly and deliberately.
She asks me what’s wrong, but my voice refuses to work.
I throw the table out of the way with both hands. She winces as it crashes violently into the porcelain closet containing the heirlooms given to her by her mother.
I feel myself slowly striding towards her. She just stands there, paralysed in fear. I want to scream at her to run, to flee while she still can, but I’m no longer in control.
My arms rise up. I see my hands surround her thin, swanlike neck. She lets out a muffled sob as my grip tightens. Inside my head, I’m crying along with her, as I find myself slowly squeezing the life out of her… yet again.
I'll be adding some of my writing to this blog, as writing is something I enjoy doing and I feel having an audience can never hurt. First addition will be a short bit I wrote a few months ago. Without further ado;
Here I stand
Here I stand, my hands wrapped around her neck.
How it ever came to this, I have no idea. All I know is this beautiful creature I once loved and adored now hangs limp and lifeless in my embrace.
All I want to do is scream and shout, to cry until I can’t cry anymore, to lie down and die…
But I can’t. I feel myself letting her slip.
Her soulless form drops to the floor, a crumpled heap of flesh. My being cries out in pain, but my voice resounds throughout the room, a mocking laugh filling my ears. I hear someone, something, speaking in my voice.
“How does it feel? How does it feel to know you are responsible for her death? Does it hurt? Does it fill you with despair, knowing she is gone and will never return?”
I try to reply, but my voice won’t heed my commands.
“Weakling! I am in control now… And I have plans for you yet.”
Then, darkness.
I wake up to find myself in a small, white room. The walls are padded. Above my head is a large fluorescent lamp, moulded into the ceiling. The light hurts my eyes.
A voice, seemingly out of nowhere: “Ah, you’re awake, excellent excellent! We were starting to get worried about you!”
I try to speak, but my voice fails me, resulting in nothing more than a rasping cough escaping my throat.
“Now now, do be careful! We wouldn’t want you hurting yourself, no we wouldn’t!
You see… we have plans for you yet.”
I wake up to find myself seeking cover behind a pillar inside the remains of a building I can’t recognize. Someone appears to be shouting at me, but I can’t make out his words.
His face contorts as a blade pierces him from behind. The force with which the blade was rammed through his guts sends a spray of blood showering my face. I find myself being strangely devoid of emotion as I see the life drain from his face.
His body slumps to the ground, and I see the… thing… behind the blade. Its insectoid face seems to look at me inquisitively, then turns malignant. It charges at me, chirping something that somehow feels familiar to me. Before it impales me on its blade, my body sidesteps the attack. My arms shoot out and grab the creature by its shoulders. I am aware of the muscles throughout my body tensing as I use the creature’s charge against it, sending it spiraling into a pile of debris. The creature impacts the debris with a telling crunch. A trickle of greenish fluid that can only be blood oozes out from the debris. I’m left wondering what just happened to me, when I suddenly black out again.
“Wake up, number 12.”
My eyes open, and the glare of the fluorescent lamp greets me again. I squint in a feeble attempt to get used to the brightness.
“How good of you to join us, number 12”
The voice sounds sarcastic, irritated. I feel as though this is not the same voice I heard before, but I’m not sure. Before I can gather my thoughts, the voice resounds through my padded chamber again: “So far you’re somewhat disappointing, number 12. I believe it is time for you to prove your worth.”
I open my mouth to speak, but before I can utter a sound darkness overcomes me yet again.
I awake at a table. 3 faces look at me, expectantly. I see plates with loaves of bread on them, glasses of orange juice. I look down and find myself holding a newspaper. For some reason I can’t make out the words. A woman’s voice reaches my ears: “Well?”
The sound of her voice seems to break my spell, and I ask: “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
A small smile crosses her face as she calls me a scatterbrain. I can’t help but grin sheepishly as I remember how she’s called me that ever since we first met, 15 years ago.
“I asked if you wanted another cup of coffee before you go out to work.”
“Coffee? Oh, yes, coffee, please.”
She pours me a cup of coffee. I suddenly get a feeling of deja-vu as the smell of the coffee reaches me. It feels as though my blood turns to ice where I sit as terror grasps me.
“Are you feeling alright dear?” She asks me.
“….run…” I whisper as I suddenly remember why I feel so scared.
She looks at me, fear and wonder trading places on that beautiful face of hers.
The 2 children sitting at the table ask her what’s wrong with daddy.
She doesn’t reply, her eyes locked to mine.
She sees what I see, what is about to happen.
The children pick up on the feeling of dread between the two of us, and start sobbing softly.
I hear her hiss for them to run, now, to go next door to uncle Jim and aunty Elly.
Between sobs the eldest says they don’t want to, they want to stay with us, but she yells at them to go, now!
Crying, he grabs his younger sister’s hand and runs out the door.
I slowly get up from my seat. She mirrors my action, moving slowly and deliberately.
She asks me what’s wrong, but my voice refuses to work.
I throw the table out of the way with both hands. She winces as it crashes violently into the porcelain closet containing the heirlooms given to her by her mother.
I feel myself slowly striding towards her. She just stands there, paralysed in fear. I want to scream at her to run, to flee while she still can, but I’m no longer in control.
My arms rise up. I see my hands surround her thin, swanlike neck. She lets out a muffled sob as my grip tightens. Inside my head, I’m crying along with her, as I find myself slowly squeezing the life out of her… yet again.
dinsdag 10 maart 2009
Seems I've got a secret admirer
I suppose it wasn't a question of íf, rather of when I'd get my first anonymous hate-reply. This is, after all, the internet, where everyone can act like a tough guy, sitting safely behind their screens posting as "anonymous". Blogger has a wonderful feature that lets me moderate and even delete replies I don't want to see, but I don't intend to use it.
People who feel the need to spam nonsensical messages filled with cussing and generic verbal abuse tend to fall into two categories:
1, they are insecure, small and unsuccesful people who need to feel good about themselves by dragging others down.
Or 2, baiters. Trying to get an annoyed, perhaps even infuriated response from whoever happens to cross their path. Pretty much everything is fair game to a baiter, and ofcourse the fun is when someone bites and goes off at them. I happen to know this, because I spent some time on a forum as a baiter. So, I'm not going to change the options for posting replies, I'm not going to moderate them and I'm certainly not going to delete any. Any of those actions would mean a baiter gets what he wants. Instead, with this little addition to my blog I acknowledge his presence, and that's where it ends.
Yes, I see you. Yes, I read your comments. No, I don't care.
People who feel the need to spam nonsensical messages filled with cussing and generic verbal abuse tend to fall into two categories:
1, they are insecure, small and unsuccesful people who need to feel good about themselves by dragging others down.
Or 2, baiters. Trying to get an annoyed, perhaps even infuriated response from whoever happens to cross their path. Pretty much everything is fair game to a baiter, and ofcourse the fun is when someone bites and goes off at them. I happen to know this, because I spent some time on a forum as a baiter. So, I'm not going to change the options for posting replies, I'm not going to moderate them and I'm certainly not going to delete any. Any of those actions would mean a baiter gets what he wants. Instead, with this little addition to my blog I acknowledge his presence, and that's where it ends.
Yes, I see you. Yes, I read your comments. No, I don't care.
maandag 9 maart 2009
I've done a bit of religion, time for politics?
Politics. It has become a derogatory term over the years, while it is arguably the single most influencing thing in all of our lives. If I were to go into town and ask a hundred random people about their feelings regarding politics, I sincerely doubt I'd get more than 20 positive responses.
Politics have become a joke. A frightening amount of people simply don't care about politics, and therefore don't vote or vote for the person they see on the news who shouts the most things they can relate to. Others simply can't make heads or tails from the circus politics have become.
I can't blame them. Looking at my own country's political environment, I've not been able to take any of it seriously since Wim Kok gave up office. A quick google search tells me that was in 2002. Well over 6 years of politics, and therefore also our country's government, that has been pretty much a joke. Debates which would make a highschool student feel embarrased, so devoid of meaning and childish are they. Inner-party bickering, fought out in public. Backpedalling at a never before seen level. I'm suprised we haven't seen politicians disputing their own names in interviews yet.
I know that alot of these things are inherent to politics and as such will always be a factor. Getting a straight answer out of a politician is harder than getting conclusive proof of the Loch Ness monster and Bigfoot having an affair. When something goes wrong, or turns out to be less than ideal, you can bet your entire savings (Provided you still have any, and hadn't put them on in Icelandic account) that the person responsible will backpeddle his or her way out of any blame, as if they were in the Tour. I'm not saying that this is new, that this has cropped up in the last 6 years. I'm saying that it has gotten worse, so much so that it seems to have completely replaced everything else. Politics are in a sad state when not even politicians take it seriously anymore.
Anyone living in the Netherlands, or familiar with foreign politics will know who Geert Wilders is. If you don't, look him up in google images. One look will last a lifetime.
You can say a lot about Geert Wilders. There has been alot said about Geert Wilders, even. I'm not going into the political content, that horse has already been beaten beyond recognition. What I will say is that he is a very clever man. To coin a popular term, he is a populist.
He tells the people what they want to hear. He gives them what they want. And so, they flock to him. His popularity is stupendous, while many of his followers probably don't even know what his agenda is. At times, I doubt he knows what his agenda is, or whether he even has one (A political one that is. I'm quite certain he has an agenda...).
You all probably know the phrase "There is no such thing as bad publicity" or something similar. And exactly for that reason, is why Geert Wilders is brilliant. He is the most talked about politician in ages, at least nationally (and I'm sure he's made some waves abroad at least). Everyone is talking about him. Everyone has an opinion about him. He gets to people. His supporters follow him for what he says, while the rest condemns him for it, finds him loathsome because of it, or thinks he's generally a deranged crackpot. But everyone knows who he is.
The tie that binds this all together, and the point I'm making, is that the current political climate is such that people like Geert Wilders get free reign. Politics are a contest of populism now that convential politics have all but failed. Where will we be in 10 years from now, when our entire government consists of people who shout the loudest, are best at blaming certain parts of the populace (Sound familiar? It should, if you know your history.) but wouldn't know a political agenda from a hole in the ground?
We need sensible, strong leaders if we are to have a decent future. We need our politicians to stop acting like spoiled 12-year old clowns, and to start taking, and making, politics serious again.
If they don't, it will mean we keep seeing Geert Wilders' and Pim Fortuyns, and they will keep getting votes, because people rather get told what they want to hear, than see our nation's leaders bickering like children.
Politics have become a joke. A frightening amount of people simply don't care about politics, and therefore don't vote or vote for the person they see on the news who shouts the most things they can relate to. Others simply can't make heads or tails from the circus politics have become.
I can't blame them. Looking at my own country's political environment, I've not been able to take any of it seriously since Wim Kok gave up office. A quick google search tells me that was in 2002. Well over 6 years of politics, and therefore also our country's government, that has been pretty much a joke. Debates which would make a highschool student feel embarrased, so devoid of meaning and childish are they. Inner-party bickering, fought out in public. Backpedalling at a never before seen level. I'm suprised we haven't seen politicians disputing their own names in interviews yet.
I know that alot of these things are inherent to politics and as such will always be a factor. Getting a straight answer out of a politician is harder than getting conclusive proof of the Loch Ness monster and Bigfoot having an affair. When something goes wrong, or turns out to be less than ideal, you can bet your entire savings (Provided you still have any, and hadn't put them on in Icelandic account) that the person responsible will backpeddle his or her way out of any blame, as if they were in the Tour. I'm not saying that this is new, that this has cropped up in the last 6 years. I'm saying that it has gotten worse, so much so that it seems to have completely replaced everything else. Politics are in a sad state when not even politicians take it seriously anymore.
Anyone living in the Netherlands, or familiar with foreign politics will know who Geert Wilders is. If you don't, look him up in google images. One look will last a lifetime.
You can say a lot about Geert Wilders. There has been alot said about Geert Wilders, even. I'm not going into the political content, that horse has already been beaten beyond recognition. What I will say is that he is a very clever man. To coin a popular term, he is a populist.
He tells the people what they want to hear. He gives them what they want. And so, they flock to him. His popularity is stupendous, while many of his followers probably don't even know what his agenda is. At times, I doubt he knows what his agenda is, or whether he even has one (A political one that is. I'm quite certain he has an agenda...).
You all probably know the phrase "There is no such thing as bad publicity" or something similar. And exactly for that reason, is why Geert Wilders is brilliant. He is the most talked about politician in ages, at least nationally (and I'm sure he's made some waves abroad at least). Everyone is talking about him. Everyone has an opinion about him. He gets to people. His supporters follow him for what he says, while the rest condemns him for it, finds him loathsome because of it, or thinks he's generally a deranged crackpot. But everyone knows who he is.
The tie that binds this all together, and the point I'm making, is that the current political climate is such that people like Geert Wilders get free reign. Politics are a contest of populism now that convential politics have all but failed. Where will we be in 10 years from now, when our entire government consists of people who shout the loudest, are best at blaming certain parts of the populace (Sound familiar? It should, if you know your history.) but wouldn't know a political agenda from a hole in the ground?
We need sensible, strong leaders if we are to have a decent future. We need our politicians to stop acting like spoiled 12-year old clowns, and to start taking, and making, politics serious again.
If they don't, it will mean we keep seeing Geert Wilders' and Pim Fortuyns, and they will keep getting votes, because people rather get told what they want to hear, than see our nation's leaders bickering like children.
maandag 2 maart 2009
I bought a Qor'aan today
The title is rather self-explanatory, but just a title makes for a lousy addition to a blog, so allow me to expand on it a little.
I don't consider myself a religious man. I don't reject religion, or the idea of an omnipotent being, but I don't believe it as such. I don't know whether there is a God or not, and the chances of me finding out during my lifetime are exceedingly small. As such, I've accepted that, barring divine intervention, I'm never going to know for sure. As I do consider myself a man of science, I can only believe in what I know to be true, otherwise for me it isn't believing. So, I don't believe, nor do I disbelieve. I simply don't know, and am open to both sides.
So, that being said, let's continue.
Religion, regardless of your personal opinion of it, is and always has been an important part of our existence. Off the top of my head I can't think of any culture or people not influenced by religion.
As such, you're bound to come into contact with it sooner or later. For all you know, the man/woman you fall madly in love with might be religious. You might become friends with a new guy at work, who happens to be religious. My point is, it's not something you can hide from. You might not like it, you might not believe it yourself, you might even go so far as to (think you) despise it... But it is a part of society, and as such having knowledge of religion in all its aspects can only be beneficial, both for yourself and those around you.
Hell (Bad term to use in a religion blogmessage, but it's what I'd normally use in this kind of sentence, so I felt it should stay), simply the fact that it actually is an interesting read makes it worth your time to just pick up a bible or any other holy scripture and just read it!
Back to the title. I bought a Qor'aan today. I was in the city shopping for a birthday present for my mother, when on an impulse I entered a bookstore. Not a fancy bookstore mind, the dingy cheapskate kind that is always on a 'total-clearance-sale' where you find ugly, kitsch calendars, books about kittens and such. What I found near the back of the store, tucked away in a corner, was the Qor'aan, translated to Dutch, for 7 euro's. Who knows, it might have been Providence...
Why did I buy it? If you bothered to read the above, you should be able to guess, but what fun would it be if I didn't just tell you. It is a blog afterall.
I bought the Qor'aan, because our country is increasingly influenced by the Muslim people, society and culture. As such, understanding the people and their religion better helps me understand the world I live in better. It helps me understand the people I live with better.
For better or worse, we're stuck with one another on this planet, and understanding eachother goes a long way towards making our stay here enjoyable.
I don't consider myself a religious man. I don't reject religion, or the idea of an omnipotent being, but I don't believe it as such. I don't know whether there is a God or not, and the chances of me finding out during my lifetime are exceedingly small. As such, I've accepted that, barring divine intervention, I'm never going to know for sure. As I do consider myself a man of science, I can only believe in what I know to be true, otherwise for me it isn't believing. So, I don't believe, nor do I disbelieve. I simply don't know, and am open to both sides.
So, that being said, let's continue.
Religion, regardless of your personal opinion of it, is and always has been an important part of our existence. Off the top of my head I can't think of any culture or people not influenced by religion.
As such, you're bound to come into contact with it sooner or later. For all you know, the man/woman you fall madly in love with might be religious. You might become friends with a new guy at work, who happens to be religious. My point is, it's not something you can hide from. You might not like it, you might not believe it yourself, you might even go so far as to (think you) despise it... But it is a part of society, and as such having knowledge of religion in all its aspects can only be beneficial, both for yourself and those around you.
Hell (Bad term to use in a religion blogmessage, but it's what I'd normally use in this kind of sentence, so I felt it should stay), simply the fact that it actually is an interesting read makes it worth your time to just pick up a bible or any other holy scripture and just read it!
Back to the title. I bought a Qor'aan today. I was in the city shopping for a birthday present for my mother, when on an impulse I entered a bookstore. Not a fancy bookstore mind, the dingy cheapskate kind that is always on a 'total-clearance-sale' where you find ugly, kitsch calendars, books about kittens and such. What I found near the back of the store, tucked away in a corner, was the Qor'aan, translated to Dutch, for 7 euro's. Who knows, it might have been Providence...
Why did I buy it? If you bothered to read the above, you should be able to guess, but what fun would it be if I didn't just tell you. It is a blog afterall.
I bought the Qor'aan, because our country is increasingly influenced by the Muslim people, society and culture. As such, understanding the people and their religion better helps me understand the world I live in better. It helps me understand the people I live with better.
For better or worse, we're stuck with one another on this planet, and understanding eachother goes a long way towards making our stay here enjoyable.
woensdag 25 februari 2009
No good deed shall go unpunished
Have you done a single good deed today?
Something as simple as helping an old lady cross the street, turning off your neighbours bike light after she'd forgotten to switch it off, or anything like that?
People are losing touch with one another. Even though we are communicating with eachother in more ways than we ever thought possible, people are becoming more and more self-centered, anonymous and perhaps even xenofobic.
If you don't know someone, you don't talk to them, greet them... Hell, they might as well not exist.
A while ago, I was out taking a walk. I came across an elderly gentleman. The streets were empty except for the two of us. In passing, I greeted him, giving him a smile and a 'good afternoon'.
In return, I got a startled and frightened look, as if I just threatened him into giving me his wallet.
The sad thing is, it has become normal to basically ignore each other, to just look out for one's own. Greeting someone while out on a walk has become an abberation instead of the norm.
People are afraid of eachother. You are expected to act like a self-centered asshole, and because everyone assumes everyone else does so, they do so too. The perfect example of a vicious cycle, sustaining itself until eventually it collapses.
Back to my earlier point. Have you done a good deed today? A good deed doesn't have to be something big. Anything that brings a smile to someone's face will do. The point is to break the vicious cycle I mentioned above.
If evil begets evil, then isn't it common sense to say good begets good? If you stop at a pedestrian crossing to let someone cross the street, which brings a small spark of happiness to that person, who in turn does something good for someone else, that means you've made a difference.
You might never notice the repercussions of your action yourself, but you will have had a slight positive influence on someone's life. Instead of getting irritated because he had to wait until a gap opened in traffic, you made someone happy by going against the norm, by not thinking of yourself first, but thinking of others too. Hopefully that positive effect will carry through, and who knows... that person might just do something similar for someone else.
My point? Don't just accept how the world is, if it's not something you can live with. Try to change it! The smallest change can have the biggest impact. Don't let yourself get jaded, don't let yourself get dulled down. Think about your actions, think about your position in live. One person can make a difference. Perhaps not on a global scale, perhaps not on a national scale, but a positive change is always worthwhile, no matter how small.
I for one will go on trying to be a positive influence for those around me, regardless of whether I know them or not. If I can make even one person a day consider life a bit more positively, I'll consider that a good day.
Something as simple as helping an old lady cross the street, turning off your neighbours bike light after she'd forgotten to switch it off, or anything like that?
People are losing touch with one another. Even though we are communicating with eachother in more ways than we ever thought possible, people are becoming more and more self-centered, anonymous and perhaps even xenofobic.
If you don't know someone, you don't talk to them, greet them... Hell, they might as well not exist.
A while ago, I was out taking a walk. I came across an elderly gentleman. The streets were empty except for the two of us. In passing, I greeted him, giving him a smile and a 'good afternoon'.
In return, I got a startled and frightened look, as if I just threatened him into giving me his wallet.
The sad thing is, it has become normal to basically ignore each other, to just look out for one's own. Greeting someone while out on a walk has become an abberation instead of the norm.
People are afraid of eachother. You are expected to act like a self-centered asshole, and because everyone assumes everyone else does so, they do so too. The perfect example of a vicious cycle, sustaining itself until eventually it collapses.
Back to my earlier point. Have you done a good deed today? A good deed doesn't have to be something big. Anything that brings a smile to someone's face will do. The point is to break the vicious cycle I mentioned above.
If evil begets evil, then isn't it common sense to say good begets good? If you stop at a pedestrian crossing to let someone cross the street, which brings a small spark of happiness to that person, who in turn does something good for someone else, that means you've made a difference.
You might never notice the repercussions of your action yourself, but you will have had a slight positive influence on someone's life. Instead of getting irritated because he had to wait until a gap opened in traffic, you made someone happy by going against the norm, by not thinking of yourself first, but thinking of others too. Hopefully that positive effect will carry through, and who knows... that person might just do something similar for someone else.
My point? Don't just accept how the world is, if it's not something you can live with. Try to change it! The smallest change can have the biggest impact. Don't let yourself get jaded, don't let yourself get dulled down. Think about your actions, think about your position in live. One person can make a difference. Perhaps not on a global scale, perhaps not on a national scale, but a positive change is always worthwhile, no matter how small.
I for one will go on trying to be a positive influence for those around me, regardless of whether I know them or not. If I can make even one person a day consider life a bit more positively, I'll consider that a good day.
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