The Inconsistencies of Pencil Sharpeners

Dear Blog,

Have you ever had a moment? The instant in time when a thought strikes you that you can't avoid? Like the fall to Earth after slipping on ice? Or, for you, realizing mid-click that you're about to delete some you've worked so hard to create? I've had that moment. The time-freezing pause in life when the paradigm of my former life shifts to a strange new constant. The moment came from volunteering.

I'm not sure if you know this, Blog, but I'm currently an AmeriCorps Member. I volunteer ten hours a day at my local middle school (oh yeah, I live at home with Mom and Dad again; yay for the college graduate!). I get paid far below minimum wage for the work I do and I often feel vastly unappreciated. But I get to tutor seventh graders and run my own afterschool clubs. I take the good with the bad, as it happens. I often meet with students who are failing one or more classes and I offer whatever assistance I can. I don't do the work for them, but I remind and prod students every week until their grades improve. I help out in a Study Skills class and a Math Lab. I check over homework and reteach concepts. And for the afterschool bit, I run a Chess Club, a Minecraft club, a movie club, and often help out in the library, go Ceramics trips, and go wherever an extra pair of hands is needed. I've developed relationships with students, either through my adoration of Taylor Swift or my Star Wars collection on my test, or simply being a teacher who listens and does his best not to lie (Mr. Golden's first rule of tutoring is that I won't lie to you if you don't lie to me).

But within these past few weeks (note: I've been working this post since August 2012), the moment has been creeping ever closer to me. I felt the shadow in corners, heard whispers in empty corridors, saw glaces in classrooms. Despite the fact that I'm helping educate children, something I value highly on the grand scale of cosmic importance, I haven't found my place. This isn't my thing. I love to learn, I love to teach, but being a teacher for children doesn't seem like the right line of work for me. It's a moment that I definitely dreaded. I haven't failed. My co-workers would probably say that I succeed in a big way. But I dreaded this moment in time because I once again sit here in front of my computer and lack any sort of direction for my life.

It's a bit melodramatic, I know. But it's nevertheless a bummer. I sorely want to find the right niche for my life. Rather, the right niche that could provide a means of employment. Part of this desire stems from wanting to live on my own. Living with my parents is far from horrible. They get me food, wash my clothes, pay for internet, TV, gas, etc. They aren't restrictive in any sense of the word. They don't treat me like a child. I would just like to be on my own. In a way, moving out to an apartment seems ideal. Granted, I'd immediately miss high-speed internet, DirecTV, ample amounts of food, and free laundry services, but something about that independence I was so close to having as a college student living on campus is always at the back of my mind.

Another part of my wish for the seemingly elusive "right fit" for my life is to actually do something. I've fancied myself as a writer for the past few years of my life. But in reality, I don't write anywhere near the amount a real writer does. My days consist of working for the bulk of the daylight hours, then coming hour to watch videos online, play video games, and generally wasting time before I eventually slink off into bed and rest for a couple short hours before starting the cycle over again. I often think of things to write, but I've lacked the drive to put pen to paper. In all areas of my personal life, I've simply stopped creating for fun. Granted, while at work, I'm asked to create posters for various activities, write a newsletter, create "SNAPS" to congratulate people, and compose "Great Stories" to highlight my personal growth within the program. But these often are half-baked attempts at creation that oddly receive plenty of praise among my superiors (and plenty of jests from coworkers). I'm not a dry well, but I'm hardly pumping to my greatest capacity. But I'm not sure how to tap into the well and draw forth substance of any artistic merit. Heck, I don't know how to conjure pure drivel on command. Aside from those occasional projects at work, I've stalled in the practice of creation.

All of that, the light bulb heralding the lack of education interest, the craving for my own place, and the shocking lack of anything being created, came as a deluge upon me and my poor ark of a life. And I don't know how to paddle to safety. It's hard to drag myself from the slipstream pattern of work, watch, and sleep. Partly because this is the easy way. I don't need to think or plan. I just zone out each day. But the larger part in that fear of failure. Fear of trying and crashing. I haven't had a moment of true success in the field I desperately want to be a part of. I want to write stories and present them to the larger world. But haven't started because I haven't been given the green light. I haven't given myself the green light. I'm holding myself back because I won't allow myself to risk anything. Why? Because, well, the risks are too great. If I take months or years of my life to create something and have it die a sad and lonely death, I'd have wasted all of that time. Nothing risked, nothing gained. But nothing risked is nothing lost.

Which is the oddest thing. I refuse to take the risk because I'm afraid of letting time slip away, all while I waste my time in front of my computer, creating nothing. That moment. The flash of an instant, blinding my soul for a split-second. That is when I noticed myself. The unmotivated and dull husk of a dream. Gathering dust and letting his soul rot. I help my community by providing a resource to students who need an extra hand in school, who need the afterschool services I provide to grow and develop as individuals with unique and beautiful lives. But personally, I've let myself go. Given a few more years, I'd be lost to time for good. I'd be able to help others, provide a life for those I care about, and generally have good life. But it wouldn't be a full life. Not a lie, just a lesser truth from what I could have had.

But now I have a chance. I've seized that moment and I'm now holding on for dear life and soul. The stakes are high, but the odds are clear. If I don't play a hand, I won't win the jackpot. But I don't get to play if I keep my head down and play it safe. But if I decide to partake, I have the brilliant opportunity to create my own hand before throwing my chips on the table. The future is blank and I've given myself the mighty pen to change fate. It won't be easy. But as I told one of my students today, life isn't easy. The hardest parts yield the greatest rewards. Time to pick my prize and march forward to collect it.

Until next time,
-Daniel Golden

Miniature Life Update

Dear Blog,

I have not written an entry for quite a while. I apologize for that. I hope to get back in habit soon. Here is a miniature life update. And by miniature, let's just say there's a dash of school and the entirety of my summer.

I've graduated! Huzzah! I graduated Cum Laude from Missouri State University with a B.A. in Psychology and English. I'm actually proud of myself. I didn't care about walking to get my pseudo diploma, or the incredible number of photo ops and graduation decorations my mother had for me, but to be able to lay claim to a college degree is definitely an achievement.

I also earned the "Graduated with Honors" hidden achievement.

I'm not heading straight into graduate school, though. I first volunteered with the Waynesville VISTA Summer Associate AmeriCorps program. Essentially, I was a teacher's aide for a Kindergarten class in morning, then a summer counselor of sorts for fifth graders in the afternoon. It was all volunteer work with very minimum pay. But I enjoy immensely. I've received several compliments on my skills with children. I was often asked where I got my teaching degree from. Because I guess being great with kids means I've received formal training? Who knows? But I definitely loved the month of June, full of aiding Kindergartners and guiding fifth graders.

July was a month of "other" work. I say "other" because all VISTA Summer Associates did different things. Some volunteered at churches, some to the gold course, and then there was me. It was Part II of our volunteer service and I really wanted to volunteer at the high school for a bit. There was AC and computer work (both things I enjoy in the summer). And I was chosen to go to the high school. But alas, because of my excellent work in June, my boss handpicked me to work with her at the elementary school that housed the kids doing Club TIGER (the afternoon summer camp). Then she went on vacation. So for the first week and a half, I built shelves and organized the storage room and painted the hallways and restrooms of the school. Nothing exciting, but at least there was AC and my fun work friend Shelby. When my boss came back, we were tasked with computer work and I excelled. I made a newsletter, an exceptional brochure, created interesting themes, and I was generally awesome.

That service ended July 31st and on August 1st, I started training as a full time volunteer for the district. Then time I will work for a year, essentially doing what I did over the summer. I imagine the experience will be great, the resume will get a boost, and I will earn some extra cash for my future savings. All in all, work wise, life hasn't been too bad.

I should mention that my dad had a double bypass on his heart early in July. That was a stressful time. I won't go into the details because, well, I don't want to. He was in the hospital for a bit, some rough patches at home, family tensions arose. But it's all good now. He's healthy and happy and doing great now. He no longer smokes and he's healing up just fine.

Simple bypass example

My girlfriend and I have been doing rather well. We talk every day; we spend time with each other every few weekends. Our most recent weekend included seeing The Dark Knight Rises, plenty of arcade games (including Star Wars Podracing), eating at White Castle, going to the Saint Louis Zoo, seeing Goldfinger on Art Hill, playing Munchkin, hanging out with peers, and going to the Saint Louis Science Center. It was a lot of fun. I think a Six Flags trip is next on our list, mainly since I have training the whole month of August.

Other smaller things in my life include trying to rearrange my room, getting an awesome new computer, trying to motivate myself to accomplish my blogs and start vlogs, and more novel reading. I have so many books that I haven't touched or need to revisit. I just can't get myself to do the things I want to do. In a way, I've hit the doldrums of summer. I can't pull myself away from the TV or my computer. I feel like writing blogs would be fun, vlogs would be something interesting, reading would expand my writing skills, and hopefully I can write some fiction of my own and get something published once. And my room just needs a change. It's been the same for years now.

A treadmill desk would be awesome in my room, no? Photo taken from http://fishingboatproceeds.tumblr.com/  and features John Green, an author and VlogBrother

I hope that I can report back something of interest to you. As of late, my sporadic Facebook posts and Twitter tweets have been my only viable Internet footprints, so to speak.

Until next time!

-Daniel Golden

To the Beat of a Dubstep Lullaby

Dear Blog

Poetry is the representation of some aspect of beauty or intense emotion in a form of art. It’s created by people. Poems are written, pictures are taken, movies are filmed. But life also has its own poetry. Not only the biological concept of life (though the colors, the symmetry, and great physical attributes of nature is amazing at times), but our everyday lives. The day to day interactions we have with our environment. Well, my life is oddly poetic at times, I should say.

Example. I love Taylor Swift. Like, a lot. I love her music, I love her looks, I just love Taylor Swift. I have an affinity towards female vocals. Selena Gomez, Kelly Clarkson, Katy Perry, Adele. Yet even when I play stations built around that style of music, a style of music I find most pleasurable, I skip tracks every now and then. It’s to be expected, true. Internet radio isn’t perfect and I’m bound to dislike a song.

Screenshot from the music video "Story of Us"

But here’s the twist. I’ve found myself these past couple of weeks listening to dubstep. I typed in Skrillex, a popular dubstep artist, and I have yet to skip a song as Pandora plays for me. Here is this very aggressive, jagged, loud, low-on-lyrics music that I shouldn’t like at all. It’s in direct contrast to the stories of unrequited love found in my arsenal of ballads. But I like it. I haven’t heard something that repels me as the station spins its tunes.

This logo conveys the attitude of dubstep.

I tried to explain dubstep to my father recently. I commented that dubstep sounds like it is a mad scientist’s twisted answer to popular music. What he lacks in guitar skill he makes up with Tesla coils and the synthesized machinations of the cries of his tortured robots.

That duality, those opposites, that is the poetry of life. Fiction must be credible, real life doesn’t have to fit that bill. It can be as wonderful as wants to be, as dull as it feels like. No rhyme or reason required.

Page from 1917 Mark Twain Calendar
published by Sully and Kleinteich of NY
by arrangement with
Harper &  Brothers
from the
Dave Thomson collection

So to the beat of a dubstep lullaby I write these simple musings of life. I try to find that mystical force that drives us forward despite the contrasts that persist. The murderer hailed as a hero and the Samaritan sued for a kindly act. Of course, I’m not going to find an answer. Not one can be applied to everyone in the human race, anyway. Maybe I can find one that applies to me? A rationale behind liking Skrillex and Taylor Swift at the same time. But I don’t even that I can figure that out.

That elusive quality makes life interesting. An unanswered question followed by an unknowable future. It’s frustrating at times, but aren't all things worth experiencing frustrating to a degree? The long trip to see the Grand Canyon, the scuba equipment to swim along the Great Barrier Reef, the massive amounts of fuel needed to propel a select group of men to walk upon Earth’s only natural satellite. The risk and work create rewards that are well worth the effort.

Image Credit: NASA

You may argue that life can be predictable for some. Day in and day out daily grind. Work, eat, sleep.  But life can still throw a slight curve ball if you let it. And I say why not let life throw curve balls? I’d rather live in a world in which something exciting can happen than know it all at once. Some of life’s pitches won’t be pleasant. That’s the risk of living. A car could smash into me as I work the front desk or my bed could burst into flames as I sleep. But life can also show me pictures of nebulae light-years away and introduce me to music that oddly captivates my pensive self.

That’s what I’ve gathered in my short time on this planet. You have the option to live life to the fullest, taking in the glory of surprises, both wonderful and tragic. Or you can stay stationary. Stagnant. Hold onto a supernova as it stretches the lengths and breadths of time and space or sit in a swamp. Life won’t come at you unless you make the first move. So I dare you to shake up life and I will do the same.

Until next time!

-Daniel Golden

Human

Dear Blog,

I have often thought about the future. The kind of impact I will have on the world, more specifically. I dream of my name in a textbook at some point, if only there by mere mention. I also wish I can bring with my presence a change in the world so great that the media reports on my death. It's a train of thought that is a bit self-serving, I know. But it's the fact that I could improve the world, leaving it better than when I found it, that brings me the most joy. But the more I dwell on the fantasy, the more I realize how far off from reality it might be. I don't have much to my name at the moment, and I imagine that I won't for some time. Which is fine, until I learn more about the people I hold in high regard. I see that they had created these wonderful and meaningful things early in their lives before they continued into their lives at force speed, accumulating so much to their reputation that it intimidates me to even read about them. I look at these examples and I think to myself "How can I attain status like that? How can I leave my mark on the world for the betterment of mankind?" I don't have a clear-cut answer to that yet, but as I ponder (during an early morning eight-hour desk shift over the Thanksgiving holiday break, I should point out), I begin to realize one simple fact. Every role model I have, any person that wish to compare myself to, any of these accomplished individuals have a common connection to one another and me: they're human.

Human; simple creatures that have done incredible things. NASA  

It's an odd realization, but it was mentioned over our staff retreat and it didn't click until learning more about a couple of influential people. The first of which is Steve Jobs. Steve Jobs died October 5, 2011, earlier this year, and following his death, the media reacted strongly, as did a huge portion of his fans. He was described as a genius, a revolutionary, a brilliant inventor of modern life, and a great leader. His story is remarkable. An adopted son, built one of the world's first personal computers in his garage with his best friend, Jobs dropped out of college, created and improved up ideas that made his company Apple a huge success all while in his twenties. He was then ostracized from his own company, helped create Pixar, rebuilt Apple when it started to fail after leaving the company years earlier, revolutionized the digital music industry and paved the way for mobile computer in huge ways. He was a huge factor in the way Western civilization operates now.
And Jobs was human. He was described as a tyrant and a bully. He yelled at people and he belittled them. He heavily borrowed ideas and branded them as his own, and was an opportunist in sometimes the negative sense. He could be short with people, using them for his own goals and then casting them aside. He demanded results as he envisioned the potential of the future, pushing others to go the extra mile to reach his lofty ends. He trashed talked competitors and shrugged off people he didn't want to bother with.
Jobs was also a caring husband and loving father. He friendships meant a lot to him, often talking long walks with his friends, talking about anything from the business and health to the meaning of life. He appreciated the beauty of the natural world and sought to convey the simplicity of design into all Apple products. He valued creativity and innovation. He was always pushing into the future. He saw a future world and tried to bring the rest of us into that world.
The only face of Jobs I ever saw that the "one more thing" keynote speeches and beaming face paired with iPods and Pixar. After his death I learned more. And I gained a further respect as I learned more. Coupled with his charm was a charisma that was borderline frightening. Hard work got Steve Jobs to a point. It was that tenacity and biting-edge personality that he was able to access at the right moments which ultimately brought him the great success of Apple Inc. Jobs wasn't a saint, he was a man. And I should keep that in mind as I go about my life. I am a man, too. I make mistakes, I fumble, and I don't have to be the nicest guy in every situation. I aim to be well-mannered and positive as often as I can, but "speaking softly and carrying a big stick" is a philosophy that I should begin to definitely adhere to. I don't need to yell at everyone, but I shouldn't shy from the chance that I might have to take an aggressive stance. I don't take pleasure in having that scenario in my repertoire, but I feel like if I plan to change the world in some way, even a small one, I should grow into a well-rounded individual (which happens to include this social tool).

Apple Logo Tribute: 1955-2011 by Johnathan Mak

Another model of success is Conan O'Brien. I have long wished for a stand-up career and to host a late night talk show. It's a dream of mine that I've let fall away. The odds are long and the pay until reaching national fame is feeble. But O'Brien stands out as a success because of the NBC debacle that happens a couple years ago. In January 2010, after the show had been on for only seven months, NBC announced that it was going to move Jay Leno from prime time back to his original time slot, forcing O'Brien's show to start after midnight. In response,  O'Brien released a press statement saying that he would not continue as hot of The Tonight Show if it was moved to any time after midnight to accommodate The Jay Leno Show. In January 2010, after the show had been on the air for seven months, it was announced that NBC was intending to move Jay Leno from prime time back to his original time slot, forcing O'Brien's show to start after midnight. In response to the announcement, O'Brien released a press statement saying that he would not continue as host of The Tonight Show if it was moved to any time after midnight to accommodate The Jay Leno Show. He feared it would ruin the long and rich Tonight Show tradition. After two weeks of negotiations, NBC announced that they had paid $45 million to buy out O'Brien's contract, ending both his tenure as host as well as his relationship with NBC after 22 years.

Following that separation, Conan was incredibly upset. His anger affected him in a great way. Conan was legally prohibited from appearing on the television or Internet for a few months. He went on tour as he dealt with the emotions that he had regarding the mistreatment he felt by NBC. After that tour, Conan took a short break and then began a late night show on TBS.

I supported Conan through his rough transition and the aftermath of his decision. I followed him on Twitter and taped up a poster on my door showing my allegiance to Team Coco. It wasn't until later, while watching a documentary the followed Conan that I saw the troubled and stressed Conan O'Brien that was hidden when performing on stage and front of camera crews. He was very short with people, incredibly rude and sarcastic, and generally depressed for much of his time on tour. I saw his smiling face at night prior to the show's cancellation. And now I see this overworked and heartbroken man.

Conan O'Brien is a man, too. It was his dream for most of his life to be the host of The Tonight Show and that dream was given to him and subsequently taken away from him. It was torn from him thanks to executives. Knowing this, and seeing him outside of performances, I couldn't help be value his work more. Despite all that he'd personally gone through, he still met with fans and performed. We was so angry for so long, but that didn't hinder his commitment to his craft. He might have been unemployed, but his never stopped working.

That drive is something I aspire for. I don't think I'll ever catch a break and make it to New York or Hollywood, but in whatever job I have, I wish to work as hard as I can, even if it isn't required of me. He's a family man and a comedian. He does what he loves, even when life stands in his way. I admire that greatly.

Team Coco Wallpaper

I have no idea how poorly written my early morning ramble is, but I hope it isn't too bad. I just wanted to jot down my thoughts about a couple of personal role models. They are far from perfect, but what man isn't? We're all human, and the sooner I can learn that, the sooner I can let go and forgive myself and move into the next phase of changing the world.


Until Next Time!
-Daniel Golden

Faith

Dear Blog,

I was asked by a friend a simple question. She asked "What do you believe in, Daniel?" And I didn't have the right words to say. Half of me wanted to say "I Believe in Harvey Dent," and move on, but this conversation felt like it would have far greater potential if I was as honest as I could be with her. She wasn't a college student who felt like she had all the answers. She wasn't going to correct me. She was grounded and she was willing to listen. So we talked.

Publicity wallpaper for the movie The Dark Knight.

Now the answer to that question would have been easy to answer a few months ago. I thought it was clear then. But my faith has recently been in the forefront of my mind, under some reevaluation and re-configuring. I felt a need to reexamine it. My appendicitis wasn't bad at all, and thanks to modern medicine, was hardly a threat at all. But the potential it held to devastate me was still there.

In the following days of healing, I thought to myself how things might have been if things didn't go as well as they did. How would my funeral play out? Would people even know what my wishes would be? How would my parents treat my remains? Did I even have my own opinions on such matters? So I thought for a long while. What I wanted, what I needed. What felt silly and what felt right.
Those ideas transitioned into thinking about my faith. What did I believe in? What did I hold true? What resonated within me? And what did I not subscribe to?
It's never an easy question to answer. And I doubt I could accurately convey the intricacies of faith in my blog (not because it's extremely complicated, but my faith evolves and I don't know if I can ever pin it down). But now I feel like this is something I should do.

The Thinker by Rodin

I guess to begin, I don't like the rituals of religion. Stated simply, I like the idea that my fraternity stands by. That continuing a practice purely for the sake of tradition is the poorest reason for doing so. I feel like a portion of religious ceremonies are tradition and continued on that basis alone. A sort of "we've always done it like this so we will always do it like this." Not all ceremonies are like that, I realize. Some have a rationale behind it. But the institution of religion largely conveys a ritualistic stance in regards to worship and practicing one's faith. So on the whole, I don't like religion. I don't hate it, I don't think it should be abolished. But it's not my cup of tea.

On that note, The Holy Bible is not a book that I've read completely or a book I feel contains the direct word of God. There are a lot of books that claim to have divine influence. I don't think any of them should be discarded. They are valid works of literature. And it's got some good ideas in them. For example, the Bible says that you shouldn't murder people and don't steal stuff. Makes sense to me. But it's got some bad ones, too. The rules for owning people (slavery) doesn't appeal to me at all and there is a lot of killing ordered by God. I can see the father-like qualities of "do as I say, not as I do." My dad smokes and tells me that I shouldn't. I understand that. But if my dad told me not to kill people and then turns around and fired a few rounds into my neighbors' heads and told me to then loot their house, I'd be less likely to respect him. I understand that it was written at a time different from our own, but that harsh contradictory element makes me shy away from viewing the Bible as a source for spiritual enlightenment.
I don't think negatively of those who use the Bible as a source for enlightenment, though. Like I said, it has merit as a great work of literature. Those who study the Bible outside of the academic realm and use it as a guideline for spiritual growth find comfort in it and that isn't a false feeling predicated on a flawed book. It's a awakening sparked by a series of writings with which they personally interrupt. I don't use the Bible, but that doesn't lessen the impact it has.

Not the only source for enlightenment, nor is it my source.

But I do believe in a soul. I believe the mankind is so wonderful. And by extension, I believe in God. Mankind has been blessed by God with a soul. Kinda.

We evolved into the creatures of reason that we are today by natural selection over incredible amounts of time. Slowly, from simple mammals to space-faring marvels of biology, we grew. And through a bit of poetry, the moment that we gained that penchant for reason is the moment we could envision the concept of God. Perhaps that's the way He likes it?
Because there is more to us than what we're made of. Classic "the whole is greater than the sum of its parts" way of thinking. The twelve particles of matter make the atoms that make the elements that make the components that make the physical man. The four forces of nature affect us constantly, including the electromagnetic force of nature which allows for the functions of our central nervous system, including the brain.
But there is that intangible, immeasurable, ungraspable soul of men. That untouchable pool from where we can draw from to create the grandest scores for orchestras, to paint frescas that adorn walls worldwide, to plan the sublime architecture in every city, to write the millions of stories we love. That source from where we feel the sharpest pain over the loss of a loved one or the crush of relationship gone awry. The same place that we have the greatest capacity for love unseen on this planet before. Mankind has done awe-inspiring things. Mankind has plans for even greater things. And I feel that we've done it on our own.
I believe that from our soul spurs the compassion, cruelty, and ingenuity of mankind. And God set the universe into motion and hasn't hindered our progress of evolution into beings of astounding power. I don't think He pointed to man and said "Eh, sure, those guys can have souls now." But the existence of that inert capacity to go beyond being fantastic biological machines and to have that soul to evades any sort of scientific classification shows me that there is something else in this universe beyond those twelve particles of matter and four forces of nature. And that something else is God.

Are souls limited to mankind? Do animals have them? Computers? So many questions that stem from the notion that makes answering the initial question so difficult.

It's hard to define God, though. I don't pray to God. I don't think God can respond to prayers. Well, He could, but He doesn't. I'm sure He can hear them. But He doesn't have a place to react. I like to think to myself that God caused the red light to appear just as my favorite song starts to play on the radio, allowing me to enjoy it in its entity.
But I feel like God is beyond that. More than an omnipotent man in the sky considering to attend to the requests of a prayer, but an entity so vast that He becomes pervasive in everything, like gravity. An additional force of nature. The potential for change is there, but His awareness that tipping one domino over would lead to the collapse of the detailed universe He created would be a main deterrent for intervention. If He actually created the universe, that is, instead of just exploding into reality like everything else did during the Big Bang. The universe, by definition, contains everything, so it'd include God. He isn't outside of the universe, He's a part of it. Perhaps He is just flowing along with everything else. He governs the laws of that spiritual part of man, I guess. I honestly don't know because I'm not God.

Luke's Lesson by Jacob A. Pfeiffer
An illustration of the Force, an invisible but binding force in the Star Wars universe.

I know that I'm writing about God using the conventions of the King James Bible, capitalizing God and references to Him. I don't think I would interrupt that as how I view God, but more so it is in line with the poetic aspect of discussing God. The classic method, so to speak.
Because faith is an abstraction. And abstractions are beautiful and brilliant. They aren't things you can point to. And neither is God. They are all just past the physical. And that beauty is poetry in my eyes.
And I guess I should add that references to the human species as "man" and "mankind" derive from the classical poetic approach and not a sexist point of view.

Just a point of clarification.

Now the next step in this voyage of self discovery is how I would in the event of my death. What would want? To be honest, I won't be at my funeral. At least, not in any way that would matter. So I'd hope whoever takes charge on my funeral preparations would accommodate to the needs of those in attendance, not to me. Of course, the circumstance of my death would be a factor when choosing how to display my remains. A gruesome mauling by a bear wouldn't lend itself well to an open casket funeral, but if I died in my sleep without any grotesque aftereffects, I wouldn't mind being dolled up a bit for the show. If science wants my body before I'm buried away, they can use it.
As for a burial, as I said, whatever is best for those in attendance. I think a grave in a graveyard would take up precious space on this Earth, but it would provide a somewhat picturesque landscape for anyone wanting to visit. Cremation would save space (and allows for my ashes to possible to scattered in outer space), but I don't know if visiting a pot of ashes has the same effect for people as those visiting a tombstone. Ultimately I think I'll leave it up to whoever will be visiting me the most, if anyone will at all.
In the end, death signals the separation of the soul from the physical realm. Where does it go? No idea. I like to think it's how people come closer to God. We join in on that fifth force of the universe, so to speak. Perhaps it is peaceful. I like to think the soul we have is eternal. It doesn't take up space in the cosmos, so it is permitted to stay after death.

"Death is a natural part of life. Rejoice for those who transform into the Force. Mourn them do not. Miss them do not." Jedi Master Yoda

I'm not sure what else to add on the subject. I'll write another entry to address questions. Though I'm not sure if I'll have any answers. I'll leave you with a fun clip, so as not to feel like this entry was "too deep" or anything.

Until next time!
-Daniel Golden

Pause

Dear Blog,

I haven't had the smoothest time these past few weeks. School is tough. Work is exhausting. My social life is hardly what it used to be. I had an appendectomy and missed a week of everything. I'm struggling to find motivation for a lot of things. I'd nearly given up.

But I paused.

In the midst of all that I had to do, despite every assignment, deadline, test, project, and promise, I paused. And in that pause, I sought out some comfort. I didn't want to bother my friends and I couldn't afford leaving the building. I needed to do this on my own. I needed to find something that would make me strive to continue. The extra push to help me this semester. Or at least until the next break.

I found the Symphony of Science again.

Science set to music. It was simple. It was powerful. It was perfect.

Thank you, Symphony of Science. Thank you very much.

Until next time,
-Daniel Golden

Just Be Yourself

Dear Blog,

If you would allow it, Blog, I'd like to write to you a response to another blog post. The question posed by that entry:
"They always tell you that when you’re trying to make friends or get a girl/guy. “Just be yourself!” But can we really? What does it even mean? They tell you not to act differently just to “fit in” or whatever. Why not? I think it’s nearly impossible to not change ourselves at least a little bit depending on who we’re hanging out with. It’s probably not such a bad idea either."

Key phrase: "Some People" 

And my simple reply to that blog is this. That when they say "just be yourself" whenever you're talking to someone you like, a job interview, or any of life's wonderful social dimensions, that you should be true to yourself. You shouldn't emulate another person's voice, stance, or opinions. "Just be yourself" is more of a gentle reminder that being yourself isn't a bad thing. It's a support for when you wish you were a champion pianist when you're chatting to that cute music major, or the volunteer firefighter who just happened to save an orphanage when you're applying for a job.

A little harsh, but the point is understood.

"Just be yourself" is saying that yes, you'll change an aspect of yourself to fit the situation at hand. Professional in an interview, fun and flirty on the dance floor. But don't suppress your urges to at least mention something you like, and definitely don't lie about liking something else. She's a cute girl dressed as a Vulcan science officer, but she'll Vulcan Nerve Pinch in a heartbeat if you act like you're into Star Trek and fail to know what the Kobayashi Maru is or its significance in the timeline of James Tiberius Kirk.

"I don't believe in a no-win scenario."

"Just be yourself" is your chance to shine, too. You've never met Person A. First impressions matter. Do you do straight into your encyclopedic knowledge Star Wars lore? Probably not. But don't shy from Lucas's saga if it is mentioned. You know all about Ewoks and the other movies Person A might like if they think Ewoks are cute (Caravan of Courage: An Ewok Adventure and its sequel Ewoks: The Battle for Endor). You might have to scale back a bit and avoid mentioning that those cute Ewoks Person A loves so much actually were intended to be Wookiees until Lucas decided Wookiees were technolgically competent and he wanted a primitive race to defeat the Empire in Return of the Jedi (or that Ewok is Wookiee switched around; or that it was originally titled Revenge of the Jedi). Information overload gives a bad impression more so than the content of the information.

And you thought all Ewoks were cute.

"Just be yourself" is advice given often. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. But if being yourself results in not getting a phone number, then consider that a blessing. If that person doesn't like who you are, then odds are you wouldn't like being on a date with them. If being yourself loses you an interview, then if you had actually worked there, you'd probably be miserable the entire time you were employed there.

No one is better qualified to be you than you are.

So that's about all I have to say about being yourself. It's probably to wisest advice I can give to someone talking to someone else. Honesty is the best policy, after all, right?

Until next time!
-Daniel Golden