Live Blogging from Intro Psychology.

3:30 - Just got back my paper. 30/40 at the bottom, but all the criteria above it total to 35/40. Not losing twelve and a half points to bad math.

3:45 - Talking about how only psychologists ask questions about how things work, the physicist inside of me disagrees.

3:50 - She just said Darwin founded gravity.

3:51 - Oh dear, she is trying to use Spock as an example.

4:12 - I believe she just had us all doing awesome face.

4:16 - Ahhhh, break.

4:28 - Teacher still not back. Masses have resorted to playing with thermostat and make it go psssshhhh.'

4:45 - Fun candid camera video. No idea how it is relevant, at all.

5:02 - Out early!

The Eleventh Hour Review

First of all I'm not here to cry out that "Matt Smith is the Doctor!" as several UK sources are screaming into the sky. I was impressed and he did far better than I had imagined. I will say this, Steven Moffat is the writer. I am a long time fan of Moffat's work, his Doctor Who episodes in the first four seasons are all in my top ten and his nineties spoof, Doctor Who and the Curse of the Fatal Death was hilarious. Ashley recently introduced me to his show Coupling and it was also fantastic and very funny.

When he was announced to take over for Russell T. Davies as head writer, I was ecstatic. I can't think of anyone better than him. Of course, at the time of that announcement, Tennant was still going to be the Doctor. When he announced his departure, I became very worried. But then I remembered, Moffat controlled his destiny. I became a bit more at ease.

So here we are in a whole new Doctor's world. New TARDIS, new companion, new screwdriver, new production team and new Doctor. That is a whole lot of new to get used to at once. This first episode was crucial and if I were in Steven's position, I would've crumbled. The point is, he had the monumental task of taking all of these Doctor Who fans who believe David Tennant was the greatest Doctor since Tom Baker, and making them believe that Matt Smith wasn't horrible. A hard task considering most came in to this series hating Smith because of the fact that he wasn't David Tennant. Moffat had one episode to convince everyone that it would be alright. One episode to convince the masses that the Doctor was still alive and kicking. In that respect, I believe he has done his job.

This isn't so much a review as it is a vote of confidence in this new crew. I miss David, I think we'll all miss him, but this new show is still the same old fun and adventure we expect. I believe Matt Smith is full of potential and I quite like his take on the Doctor. That and I love the new TARDIS. It's a strange mix of old series and new series with a lot of steampunk splashed on for good measure. Kudos to the people who designed that set, I've already gotten used to and fallen in love with it.

All that praise being said, please get the intro music fixed for next season.

"Rage, rage against the dying of the light!"

Abridged version of my Utopian Literature paper (2008).

My Utopia is not on a small island; it does not follow any specific form of government and its structure is unknown to me. It is not a place, but rather it is a time. My Utopia is quite simply the future. I am not talking about the future of a hundred years from now, but rather the future of billions of years from now. Imagine the most distant future you have ever even attempted to conceive, and then go further, much further. Look past our galactic collision with Andromeda, past the destruction of the sun, past so many things that we figure to be beyond the scope of humanity. It is a time when diverse beings of profound intelligence roam the galaxies, beings descended from us. The beauty of the future as a Utopia is that it is so very possible. To bring forth this divine future, all we must do is survive and contribute constructively to progress of humanity.

The basic principle of the future as a Utopia was outlined in an essay by Martin Seligman, professor of psychology at the University of Pennsylvania. The essay was titled The First Coming, and opened with the sentence, “I am optimistic that God may come in the end”. There are two things that are very provocative about this sentence. The first of these is that God does not come in the beginning as the creator, but rather at the end of time. The second and most important point however, is that this sentence was written by an atheist. Seligman is not referencing the Judeo-Christian God, he is instead referencing “an alternative notion of God relevant to the secular community”. The first point he makes is to abandon the idea of God as the original creator of the universe, for this is what makes God so hard to accept for the secular community. He asks us to forget the creation aspect of God and to “let the mystery of creation be consigned to the branch of physics called cosmology”.

Without the aspect of creation, that leaves us with three characteristics of what makes God, omniscience, omnipotence and benevolence. Seligman asks the question, “Does this God exist?”. If God is to be defined as a being that is omniscient, omnipotent and benevolent, it would seem impossible, with the science and technology of today, that this God could develop naturally. Then we must consider the astronomically immense future that awaits us if we have the persistence to meet it. Over this extensive period of time, biological and cultural evolution is always progressing towards greater complexity. Billions of years ago our ancestors were bacteria. So we can assume that billions of years from now, our ancestors will be as different from us as we are from bacteria. As our technology, knowledge, and positive institutions expand, we become more and more powerful. Seligman looks at this immense future and then references the list of the characteristics of God. “A process that selects for more complexity is ultimately aimed at nothing less than omniscience, omnipotence and goodness. Omniscience is arguably the ultimate end product of science. Omnipotence is arguably the ultimate end product of technology. Goodness is arguably the ultimate end product of positive institutions…So in the very longest run, we have a God who is not supernatural but who has acquired omniscience, omnipotence and benevolence through natural processes”. Simply put into mathematical terms, as the limit of humanity approaches the end of time, we constantly approach divinity.

This is similar to the Isaac Asimov short story, The Last Question, which helped inspire Seligman’s essay. In it, humanity has designed a supercomputer known as Multivac, which answers any question given to it. Multivac gives humanity the plans to directly power all of Earth with the sun. Some technicians at Multivac begin to discuss this. One of them makes the claim that humanity can run off of the Sun’s energy forever. The other reminds him that in a few billion years, the sun will burn out. He reminds the technician, “Entropy has to increase to maximum, that's all”. So they ask Multivac if entropy can be reversed, to which Multivac responds “INSUFFICIENT DATA FOR MEANINGFUL ANSWER”. The story progresses until after humans have used up the sun, and the computer gives the same response, this is repeated once humans have used up all the space in the galaxy and again when humanity has spread to every galaxy in the Universe. Then entropy continues to progress and the universe begins to burn out, the computer continues to give the same response. Then humanity fuses itself into the computer, which is now built outside of space and time and works to figure out the answer to the question, “Can entropy ever be reversed?”. Finally they arrive at an answer and this being which was created by humanity and sitting outside of time says, “LET THERE BE LIGHT!” after which Asimov writes, “and there was light”. Asimov portrays humans and their technology as a God through their ability to reverse entropy, which creates a new universe.

This belief of humanity infinitely approaching divinity makes every human being very important, because we are all building blocks towards a better future. As Seligman put it, “I am optimistic that this is the door through which meaning can enter our lives…that as individuals we can be a tiny part of this process, which has at its ultimate end the bringing of a God who is omniscient, omnipotent, and benevolent”. But to reach this dream, to approach the limit, we first must survive to see it. Survival is a game of problem solving on our part, but it is also a problem of probability. I tend to lean towards Sagan’s philosophy of survival, which lies in decreasing the probability of annihilation by expanding human civilization into space. In his book The Pale Blue Dot, Sagan suggest that "if we were up there among the planets, if there were self-sufficient human communities on many worlds... then the safer the human species will be”. It is our duty to survive so that the intelligent species who descend from us can continue the journey towards omnipotent, omniscient and benevolent beings.

The dangers of our extinction are more prevalent now than ever, especially as we are now entering a century when our self-destruction is becoming more practical than ever. Sir Martin Rees talks about this in his book Our Final Century in which he predicts that we have a 50% chance of surviving the 21^st century. Rees believes that “in this century not only will our world be changing faster than ever, but in new and different ways”. He goes on to discuss how technology is going to speed up our evolution. He notes that through AI and genetic enhancement, “human beings, their physique and character, have not changed for thousands of years, it may change this century”. We have great challenges ahead; for, as our world becomes more connected, a computer virus begins to have the ability to cause disaster, “indeed catastrophe could arise simply from technical misadventure, error rather than terror”.

Humanity has a lot of challenges to face if it is going to survive to see the distant future, but humans are up to the task. Humans are not ones for lying down and accepting death. “The brain stem and amygdala will always do their job of struggling to preserve life at any cost”. When catastrophe strikes, we will fight for the preservation our species and we are intelligent enough to succeed. Sir Martin Rees, although predicting a low probability of survival, believes that we are more than capable of making it. Rees recognizes that “whatever happens in this uniquely crucial century will resonate into the remote future and perhaps far beyond the Earth”. Carl Sagan knows that the next few decades will be a challenge, but he also is confident in humanity because “we humans also have a history of making long-lasting social change that nearly everyone thought impossible”.

We humans tend to think in the short term, and have a hard time imagining many thousands of years, let alone billions. I’m sure many people will look at this and think that the notion of the intelligent beings of the Universe becoming God as blasphemous or impossible. For those who see it as blasphemy, that is their religious view and I can respect that. For those who think it impossible, they are underestimating the grand scale of the future. There is plenty enough future left for an intelligent species to evolve and constantly approach a definition of God. Such beings would hold so much power in the Universe, that they could mold the entirety of space into their own personal Utopia. This is an important idea for us, because being alive in the twenty-first century means that we will be some of the most crucial building blocks to bringing about this future. It is time to take the first steps towards the future by insuring our survival. This is a fight we must begin here and spread into the cosmos, or as Dylan Thomas writes, "Rage, rage against the dying of the light!"

Canadaland Episode II: Attack of the Scones

This is a continuation of the short fiction piece I'm putting together for Blogagon.

"...CKER, EH!" I screamed as the coach flew at what felt like Mach 1 over the beautiful landscape below. I was utterly confused why I said "eh" at the end of that sentence; it felt strangely necessary. I didn't ponder it long though, as this crazy flying coach was scaring me shitless with its reckless maneuvering.

We passed over more hockey arenas and molasses distilleries as we went screaming through the air. To be honest it looked like candy land if someone had spilt their breakfast on it and threw in some moose for good measure. I believe at one point I saw a forest of waffle sticks next to a lake of syrup. It didn't help that Jacques sat over there on the other side of the coach laughing like a madman.

"WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU LAUGHING SO HARD, EH?" Once again that last bit was involuntary, "AND WHY THE FUCK AM I SAYING EH SO MUCH, EH?"

"That is something I never understood about your world, eh. How do you know when your sentences end, eh?"

My good lord, they actually vocalized punctuation here. I realized my anger was getting me nowhere. This Canuck just found it funny. I realized I had to calm down if I ever wanted to get out of this place. "So I'm here for a case, right..." I tried to hold it off, "...eh." It came out like a sneeze.

He stopped his giggling and fell back into a reserved smile. "Yes, I told you I lost something valuable, eh? What I lost was my kingdom, eh"

"Your kingdom, eh?"

"Yes, I'm afraid I have not been totally honest with you, eh. My name is Tim Horton, former King of Canadaland, eh."

"Tim Horton, like the coffee shop, eh?"

"I am assuming you are referring to my foreign embassies, eh? Yes, the delicious Canadian food and drink seems to have reduced anti-Canadian sentiment amongst your people, eh."

"So, who took this government away from you, eh?"

"William Shatner, eh."

"WAIT?! WHAT? EH?!"

Hundreds of miles away in the Castle of Ottawa, sat the new King of Canadaland. "So...whenwill this...castlefly, eh?"

"My lord, this is a castle, it has difficulty going to space, eh."

"Indeed, eh! But, Iwill...soon...have my placeamongst... the cosmos, eh. Is...theCanadaArm, ready, eh?"

"We now have full access my lord, eh."

"Fire photon torpedoes, eh."

"Sure, eh." said his servant as the monitors in the King's chamber showed members of the International Space Station being thrown into space by the CanadaArm.

"Beam me up, eh."

"Sir, how many times to I have to tell you that you'll be flying up, eh."

"There will be more time for questions later Mr. McClane, eh. We are touching down here to transfer airships, the moose require their rest, eh."

We got out of the flying carriage in a town that literally had houses made of molasses cookies. The smell was intoxicating, the cookies were seemingly kept at their fresh-baked odor. "Look, Mr. Horton, I get you have problems but how the hell is a private detective supposed to help, eh?"

Suddenly a baguette went flying past my head and stuck into the wall next to me. I turned to see dozens of people jumping off rooftops and heading towards us. They were, well, they were fucking French. More French than a curly mustache. More French than a beret. More French than socialized medicine. More French than banana tarte tatin. How did I know? They had all of those things.

"You really should not have said my name, eh. The King's agents lurk everywhere, eh."

"Are they all this French, eh?"

"Le Quebecois have been sympathetic towards King Bill, eh."

They were running at us waving their delicious looking desserts threateningly and something inside me snapped. First of all, I hated the French, it's built into by red, white and blue DNA. Second, my anger over Timmy dragging me into this dream world had not receded in the least. Now this hellscape provided me with something to take my anger out on, and bless God they were French!

I tore the baguette out of the wall and met their charge with my own. I yelled as I ran at them with anger, pride and passion mixed into the beautiful sound of glorious battle. "YOU FUCKING FRENCH COMMUNIST FAGGOTS! HERE COMES UNCLE SAM TO EQUALLY DISTRIBUTE YOUR PETITE ASSES ALL OVER THE PAVEMENT!"

They suddenly stopped. "NOUS NOUS REVENONS, EH!" I only understood their surrender based on my own prejudice and the white flag they produced. They ran into the night whimpering in their silly hats. I turned around to find the whole town bowing to me.

"Okay what the fuck? That cannot be the first time you've seen the French surrender."

"ALL HAIL THE ONE, EH!" said the crowd in a very creepy monotone. This must be what it feels like to be Pope. The only one not bowing was Horton.

"What are they doing?"

"I knew you were the one all along, prophesized to save this land, eh."

"The who?"

"The One Who Never Finishes His Sentences, eh."

"Never finishes his wha... Oh I stopped saying 'eh' didn't I?"

"And now you are ready save the world, eh."

TO BE CONTINUED

How Does One Live Long and Kick Ass

MISSION STATEMENT

So I basically made this blog because I thought of the name while talking to Elliot. That is the only reason. I liked the name. A lot...

That being said, now that I've made it I feel a need to post. How have I fulfilled this need? By scouring Facebook and my computer for writings of mine I like. Also I am a member of Blogagon, which is the child of the failed Alfred Writing Club. Instead of meetings we're just all obligated to post weekly writings and this is working for us. I'll be copying writings from there to here as necessary. I'll also post writings that are obscenely big here, so as not to block out others writings on there.

Pic unrelated, but totally badass.

I'll probably also post life stories when it seems relevant. But the main purpose I think is just to get an internet backup and collection of shazzle I find amusing or thoughtful, but usually just absurd and lulzy.

And since this is my blog, occasionally I'll post irrelevant shit. Like the previous post. It amuses me, and I don't need it to amuse you. Whiny bastards. If there even is a you. Personally I'm fine with 0 comments/0 views, I just like the name. That is why I made this. Because I liked the title.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm not a big fan of Hemingway.

BABIES

That is all.

Canadaland (A Tale About Violence, Conspiracy and Poutine)

This is a short fiction piece I'm putting together for Blogagon.

I pulled up to the McDonald's in Fort Kent, Maine with a bit of an icy slide from the barely plowed roads. The wind howled with the anger of being so far from decent civilization. I couldn't believe I drove all the way up from Manchester for this. Here I was, an accomplished private detective with a double degree in Badassery and Kicking Ass Whilst Taking Names (individually structured majors taken at the School of Hard Knocks) freezing in this winter hellscape on the edge of the Canadian wasteland.

This town was so close to the border that the McDonald's was actually owned by the Canadian branch of the corporation and the town was officially bilingual. I walked inside where the cashier looked up and said "Bonjour!"

"Parlez-vous anglais, frenchfag?"

She took on an offended look, "This is a bilingual establishment, sir. I understood that."

"Well than Jay swiss day-soul-eh my dear. Just give me a numero un with a coke and make it snappy amigo."

"Would you like poutine with that?"

"I get this place has caught the CanadAIDS, but why would you put pudding on a Big Mac?"

"No sir, poutine. It's french fries with gravy and cheese poured over them."

I must admit I was taken aback by this. Of all of the horrible pinko-French-commie Canadian bull to infect it's way over our precious border, Shania Twain, Mike Myers, that Asian chick from Grey's Anatomy, how has this glorious, all-American, artery-clogging gift of the gods remained trapped in this frozen hell?

"Yes, I would love some pudding. Actually, my fine madam, I would like to order three, extra large. Actually just pour it into the largest Chicken McNugget box you've got back there. Scratch that, I'm going to need a feeding tube. You know, who needs a Big Mac?" My blatant Americanism was consuming me with desire. My exaggerated gesticulations and loud voice were not enough to express my wish to eat this grease pile until my heart literally fucking exploded. I would've probably kept this rant up had I not been tapped on the shoulder.

"Hello, are you Chuck McClane."

"Hell yeah."

"My name is Jacques."

"Commie."

"What?"

"Nothing."

He took a moment to recoil but got back to the point. "I'm the one who hired you. I've lost something very valuable to me and your assistance would be much appreciated."

This communist was talking like I was offering some sort of charity, "Look, I don't take monopoly money Jack."

Jack's palm made swift contact his face as he let out a sigh. "I can pay you in American currency, one hundred thousand dollars of it to be precise."

Well right then Jack gave me one hundred thousand reasons to start being a bit more polite, "So what is it that you are looking for sir?"

"I'll tell you in due time, but first you must come with me." He grabbed my hand and pulled me outside where a horse-drawn carriage awaited us. I almost dropped the approximately two and a half pounds of poutine I'd ordered in the rush.

"Oh what the hell Jack? It's like forty below zero out here, it's so fucking cold you actually make Fahrenheit and Celsius agree with one another! Those horses should be legally dead!"

"Those aren't horses." said Jacques with a slight grin on his face. He was right, this man was putting me in a moose-drawn carriage. The carriage itself was covered in sticky black goop that seemed to have frozen to outside. I got inside and found it to be warm and comforting even though there was no discernible heat source. The smell of maple and molasses thickened the air.
I looked Jackie-boy right in the eye when he got in the carriage, "Okay, what the hell is going on here?"

"We're off my good boy! Off to Canadaland!"

As soon as he finished that sentence the carriage physically lifted off the tarmac and we began to fly toward the Canadian border. "HOLY HELL!" I exclaimed as we began a nosedive into the St. John River. "FOR FUCKS SAKE, IT'S FROZEN YOU CRAZY CANADIAN PINKO-COMMIE BASTAR...."

We hit the ice and passed right on through to the other side. The carriage filled slowly with liquid and I began to panic. Soon I was completely engulfed in it. I thought for sure I was going to die. Then I tasted the liquid and realized it was far too sweet to be water. It was then that I realized that I was drowning in a river of maple syrup.

Suddenly the liquid poured out and I looked out to see it was now a beautiful summer day. The landscape bore the same geography but reversed. The frozen river replaced by a stream of sweet maple syrup. The trees were no longer frozen and dead but vibrant and bearing crepes for leaves. The town below was now a hockey arena with an ecstatic crowd cheering as they drank their Labatt Blue. Jack cleaned off his face of the maple syrup and laughed. "Ha ha, welcome my good sir, to Canadaland!"

"MOTHER FU..."

TO BE CONTINUED

Hello World!

Greetings cohorts, and stuff.

Hmmm....

This is a picture of orange soda in a toilet.

Good day.