When Shopping Is Like A Rock Concert

It's that time of year again.

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.

In these short 27 days before Christmas, the American consumerism is at its most rampant. And this year, the season will be exceptionally intense, for its only 27 days as opposed to the 32 of last year.

It's time to listen to the same loop of 10 cheery songs in every public venue.
It's time to hear the mindless debates on what's politically correct for cashiers to say, and what to call that big, decorated fir tree in the center of town.
It's time to smile and be exuberantly happy for no apparent reason.

I am not a Christian; Christmas has never been a holiday I celebrate. Even so, I wonder how much of this is actually religion and not just an excuse to buy more stuff (though I'm sure there's got to be some people out there who see this coming event as the birth of Jesus Christ). Maybe we should just call it ShopFest, the new all-American holiday.

This would eliminate the attempts to make Jews feel included by also commercializing Hanukkah, because it generally falls sometime in December. Hanukkah is not really an especially important holiday in the Jewish religion to begin with. I'd rather more public awareness about Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, for example.

To conclude this lovely rant, here is a New York Times article about a Wal-Mart employee getting stomped to death by frantic shoppers. Remind anyone else of 80's rock concerts? Hopefully there'll be laws to prevent more incidents like this soon.

I think I need to move to Zimbabwe, or else watch my remaining sanity evaporate.

The Eyes Have It

"Have you ever looked into a mirror and you didn't recognize the person staring back?



I know I've lost a lot of weight, and there's the obvious hair-shearing and face-piercing. Crusts of blood embellish my arms like wounds from a bear attack.

But this girl is still recognizable as me. That is, until I look her in the eyes, lusterless and blank. Suddenly I ask myself, Is this who I have become? Is this who I will live out the rest of my days as?

I know I can't go on like this. I know something, somehow, has to change."

- Written on February 7, 2007

*******

I'm most likely going to be without Internet access for a few days; I've being forced to visit my horrid aunt, uncle, and cousins. Why they even want to see me I don't know, because by the end of my stay last winter they were all convinced I belonged to a Satanic cult. Maybe they just intend to convert me to their extreme Catholicism this time?

Happy Thanksgiving to the Americans in the crowd.

Responsibility to Strangers

Take what I assumed was the popular opinion that suicide is a Very Bad Thing and should be prevented at all costs and put it in the blender.

This is what comes out. (Thanks to Lexie for finding it first.)

In addition to the BBC, here's the articles from The Times Online and Fox News, which both give more details.

Also, here's the young man's MySpace. Take a look at the comments (these aren't all that bad, for the most part) on the last blog entry.

Here I go again: HOW HARD IS IT TO REALIZE THAT SOMEONE DIED?

It has to be the curiosity, or fear, of death that makes people want to watch that. We, as humans, want to know as much as we can about it, but only from a safe distance. After all, we're all going to have to face it sometime.

This also brings up personal responsibility. It's considered normal to care about the well-being of close friends and family, but almost no one feels obliged to do the same for strangers. So, I'm guessing the Internet has its own philosophy about suicide. It's the "screw him and his fucked up life" motto, or "not like I know/knew him," as opposed to "I should do everything I can to keep someone from committing suicide."

Years ago, when I was still happy and in middle school, personal responsibility to strangers came up as one of the themes of some now-forgotten book we were reading. The teacher purposed this question to the class: Person A walks by Person B who is homeless and begging in the streets. Does Person A have personal responsibility to Person B to help him?

Most of the class, as I recall, said that A was under no obligation whatsoever to give money, food, or some other kind of assistance to B. This was not really all that surprising- it's what all of them usually did when they came across homeless people.

OK. But in that scenario, B isn't dying- yet. What if A saw homeless B with a broken leg or hypothermia? Should he give him emergency treatment and bring him to the hospital?

The teacher didn't ask this question, so I don't know how my classmates would've responded. But something tells me that the answers would've changed. So why is the Internet any different? Is it because people don't know who to contact first? Or something else belonging to this slightly off-kilter culture?

Notoriety Or Oblivion?

Please don't wish me a happy birthday.

I'm seventeen now, and I feel -feel free to laugh; I am fully aware that compared to most people on the planet I'm not - old. This is very strange to me, because I'm the type of person who doesn't see the point in birthdays, and tends to forget both hers and other peoples'. Why should today, November 17th, be significant? It's only the day after yesterday.

Enough of that.

Awhile back, I don't remember where, I was reading a thread on a online forum and one of the things that came up is how you'd like people to remember you after you're dead: Would you rather be notorious or sink into oblivion? The answers surprised me.

Personally, I'd rather be remembered by a few people who I was close to in life as I am, in whatever way they might describe that, as opposed to being known to everyone for doing something horrendous. I would never want to do perform an act so bad that I am widely known for it. And since the people I am close to are the people who matter in my life right now, why should others matter in death?

But my thoughts were not shared by the majority. The posters seemed afraid of their names slipping into the lists of people no one knows existed. They were afraid that they would live their lives for nothing, and thus be pointless.

The thing is that most people don't make history. Why the terror of normalcy? I mean, I would not like to be remembered like many people do Adolf Hitler. I'd rather simply drop off the map and disappear after those who knew me are gone too.

I guess it comes down to the whole "meaning of life" thing.

Internet Phenomena I Just Don't Get

In no specific order:
1. Lolcats
2. Fred
3. MySpace
4. Facebook
5. Any social networking site
6. Glitter
7. Star Wars Kid
8. Smilies that look nothing like what they mean and/or are unnecessery (ex. d:-# )
9. TyPiNg LiKe ThIs
10. 0R L!3K TH!5
11. Chain letters/ comments (many, many examples here)
12. Numa Numa

Self-Injury Secrets

Yep, it's Sunday, and we all know I read PostSecret bordering on religiously.

And today I looked through old secrets as well.

[Brief commercial message: I used a new(er) search engine, SearchMe, to find the secrets today. I especially like this method for image searches- you actually get to see the results, and not just minuscule thumbnails.]

Here's some secrets about SI:





Cheers. For both of these people.



The this last one's my favorite. It rings close to home, I guess. Or it could just be that I am very attracted to the color.

Happy Sunday.

Twice a Victim

There were the usual rumors flying about the first day of ninth grade- who dated who over the summer, who went on vacation to the Caribbean, who had lost the big V- but as I trudged down the locker-lined corridors, the giggling stopped and was replaced with whispers. Eyes followed me, but no one dared speak.

It was after third hour that the inevitable occurred. Someone tapped me, rather harshly, on the shoulder. It was one of the "perfect" girls, adored by all, angelic in every sense to her wannabes. I had plenty of reasons accumulated through my school career to loathe her.

"So," she said, trying hard not to smirk, "where's that one girl you always follow around?"

I couldn't bear to look into her face. "Elsewhere," was all I could mumble.

"Like, as in, dead?"

I briefly calculated if I were strong enough to slam her into the wall forcibly enough to cause, at the very least, bruising, but the odds were definitely stacked against me. By this time, a mob of all the prissy people had began to develop. Oooh look, let's watch the obviously grieving person get picked on.

And so I bolted. I ran out of the building, clear past the security officer who didn't notice, and I didn't stop until I was off of school grounds, past the groups of smokers skipping class. I didn't stop until I was out of breath and my sides ached. And then I sat down on the curbside and wept. Through it all, the mean girl's face loomed, a smile of sadistic delight on her face. Somehow, I knew she was thinking, One down, one more to go.

Conversation III

We are told, from the time we are born, that everyone has the right to live. However, in this country at the present time, we do not have a right to die.

Of course. Assisted suicide is unethical.

But is living really a right if we have no other legal choice?

Eh?

Well, to me it's like saying that we have a right to religion, but only the practice of Hinduism is allowed.

Nice paradox.

Exactly.

But if people didn't have the right to life, then homicide would be legal.

Homicide and suicide are close cousins with one vital difference: a homicide victim is not the one who decides upon his death.

So you're saying that a person should have the right to life and death, but only by his own choice?

I guess so.

What about abortion then?

Let's not even go into that. Maybe another day.