All The King's Men (Film, 2006)

"The friend of your youth is the only friend you'll ever have. For he doesn't really see you. He sees in his mind a face which doesn't exist anymore. Speaks a name, 'Spike, Bud, Red, Rusty...Jack,' that belongs to that now non-existent face. He's still the young idealist you used to be, still sees good and bad in black and white and men as sinners or saints but never both and feels superior in the knowledge that you no longer can distinguish the two. That's what drives you to it, to try to stick the knife in. There is a kind of snobbery in failure, like the twist to the mouth of a drunk."

Jack Burden (Jude Law)

This Room And Everything In It

"Lie still now
while I prepare for my future,
certain hard days ahead,
when I'll need what I know so clearly this moment.

I am making use
of the one thing I learned
of all the things my father tried to teach me:
the art of memory.

I am letting this room
and everything in it
stand for my ideas about love
and its difficulties.

I'll let your love-cries,
those spacious notes
of a moment ago,
stand for distance.

Your scent,
that scent
of spice and a wound,
I'll let stand for mystery.

Your sunken belly
is the daily cup
of milk I drank
as a boy before morning prayer.

The sun on the face of the wall
is God, the face
I can't see, my soul,

and so on, each thing
standing for a seperate idea,
and those ideas forming the constellation
of my greater idea.
And one day, when I need
to tell myself something intelligent
about love,

I'll close my eyes
and recall this room and everything in it:
My body is estrangement.
This desire, perfection.
Your closed eyes my extinction.
Now I've forgotten my
idea. The book
on the windowsill, riffled by wind...
the even-numbered pages are
the past, the odd-
numbered pages, the future.
The sun is
God, your body is milk...

useless, useless...
your cries are song, my body's not me...
no good...my idea
has evaporated...your hair is time, your thighs are song...
it had something to do
with death...it had something
to do with love."

~Li-Young Lee~

Religion & Science (my own opinions)

Due to some recent arguments I've either overheard or been in the center of, I've decided to include this essay as a part of my blog. Unfortunately, it is necessary for me to start out with a disclaimer ****I am agnostic. I'm neither for nor against believing in God and spreading the word of peace and serenity in the world. This is strictly my opinion, you are entitled to your own. This is an essay on why religion exists, why people misunderstand it, and why it causes so much conflict. Give it a chance, you're bound to agree with at least one sentence, I'm sure.****

Religion began as an attempt to answer two very important questions in the hearts and minds of humanity: Why are we here? What happens after this?
Somewhere in ancient history someone died and the survived person was daring enough to try and answer those questions. As with any knowledge, it branched off into much more elaborate details and explanations to compliment the answer so that today we have approximately 750 million identifiable religions existing in the world. Of course, some of those religions have extremely noteworthy flaws to their foundation, such as Scientology. However, believing in whatever suits your own needs and feels most accurate to devoting your faith to, is perfectly acceptable no matter what that may be so long as it is not inflicting upon the free will of others. Religions (when interpreted correctly) were never created to spread hatred or war. The top three religions in the world (Christianity, Islam, Judaism) are all peaceful offerings for belief and created to spread harmony in the hope that people may co-exist better if they were given a reason to live better. It's pretty simple and very easy to prove. Proof. This is where science has tried to burst the religion bubble.

There is no solid evidence that supports or disputes the existence of any God or Gods. That is actually a scientific fact. It isn't a safety net either. So we know about evolution, about the universe, but what created the universe. We have the Big Bang Theory almost 100% proven now, but what exactly came before that? There were things floating around to cause that reaction right? Who put those there? How lucky are we to be alive considering the magnitude of the universe and the fact that we haven't contacted anyone else yet? Maybe someone or something did plan this, who knows? Consider the Book of Genesis in the Christian religion and how it begins with the beginning of people. For some, this is enough proof that the Bible is false. However, the Bible was not written by God, it was written by men telling a story from where they think it began....for them. If you want to read a book that is the direct word of God then you must learn Arabic and read the Qur'an. Why? Well, few people actually realize this but the Qur'an is to Islam as Jesus is to Christianity; a miracle. However, it was given to Muhammad in Arabic, therefore every translation could be tainted, it is not directly from God and is therefore not the Qur'an. Allow me to clear something up about the Qur'an:

Islam is an extremely peaceful religion and is probably one of the most liberal and flexible religions in the modern world. Some people would find that hard to believe, when in fact Judaism is actually the most conservative religion. Islamic extremists are actually reading, not the same Qur'an bestowed upon Muhammad to spread the peaceful word of God, but a different Qur'an that has been interpreted incorrectly. I'm not discussing the difference between Shi'ite and Sunni, I am stating the extremist paradox. The children residing in areas run by Islamic extremists grow up to believe that this is the Qur'an, it is their primary education. But how could this be the same Qur'an that the Muslim community who once resided in Spain building advanced cities and educating in mathematics and sciences and spreading poetry read? It isn't. Muslims promoted education, even the education of women, they did not ban it as so many believe. Amazing isn't it? How one group can alter the face of Islam entire.

I shall now state my arguments as to why certain scientists, and certain members of my generation, need to consider re-thinking their deductions on religion. I'm not suggesting suddenly embracing God, I'm suggesting accepting religion for what it is. Without religion, science would not exist. The first true scientists were astronomers. They studied the heavens in an attempt to move themselves closer to the Gods, to understand the Gods and to map the heavens. As everything, it advanced into today's space travel (rather unfortunately scrapped to conquer something unconquerable) and that goes for all sciences as well. Every scientist had the same question that surviving person did, what is the meaning of all of this? See, science is even closer linked to religion than most give it credit for.

There is nothing in the Christian Bible that states that missionaries need forcibly place their religion on others. That is false and has caused many a conflict in the world. But I have found that most people who so adamantly attempt to spread their religions (excluding Jehovah's Witness) have not actually read their holy book. Christians especially. It is not religion which causes wars but rather, the misinterpretation of religion. No where was it written that fighting a crusade is the ticket to heaven. I could be wrong, but I'm agnostic and I've read the Bible.

Raised Catholic, I went to Sunday School and CCD and two hour Saturday Confirmation classes. I've been to Bible study and sat in some of the grandest cathedrals in the world and actually cried at the beauty that was created in a time where things were made by hand over many decades all out of a leap of faith. I cried almost out of jealousy for the devotion of those people living in horrible conditions, building walls of such magnitude and chiseling statues so painstakingly perfect, devotion that I realized I didn't have. I cannot confirm my faith. I don't think I ever will be able to. But even so, I cannot say that Catholicism is really the best choice in religion when there are so many which offer so many glorious lifestyles. I cannot and will not condemn someone for what they believe, there is a very simple reason some people embrace religion: hope. Religion is, believe it or not, a very important part to maintaining society so long as it is interpreted correctly. I will not ever put someone down for having the audacity of faith in something I can't see 100% on. It sounds backwards but, for me, I'd rather do my personal best to live however many short years in this guaranteed place than try so hard my whole life to live up to the standards of being accepted in a place that is not so guaranteed (to me). As I previously stated, I have no problem with religion.

I've studied so many of them and every one that I had the privilege of reading about was so beautiful in its real mission. If you are religious, don't ever stray from what that real mission is, because one foot away is the chaos of Hell on Earth. Keep hope, whether your own or that of a religious one, behind you in your life, whatever you need to believe that everything can and will be better tomorrow. That's the point. There's no real reason why we're here, don't forget to live even if you're so determined to find that reason. Don't hurt others while trying to live, there is never a full on call for selfishness. For me, whatever happens when I die, happens. If the Christian God is there, I will surely give him a hug and put in a good word to those who survived me then be off to wherever he decides I should go. But I don't feel I should worry about that day just now, although some may feel otherwise and that is fine too. Just don't forget that even God gave the power of free will, he probably gave it so that you would use it...kind of like Adam and Eve, God didn't smite them, he just created original sin and moved on. He's kind of like that one really cool teacher that had to punish you somehow but didn't want to destroy your entire spirit. Believe whatever you want, however you want so long as you don't have to hurt anyone by doing so. Even if you believe yourself one of God's children, you still have a life of your own.

Without further delay, a clip from a very thoughtful movie which really relates to this essay a lot (it's funny, you can laugh):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xPzmq2zeWm4

What Stands To Stay

Constant darkness in infinite summers
in the sweet and salty tears that glide
everyday, they'll make rivers,
rivers I can't sail on.
Be prepared to bleed,
between the lines and caged emotions
that seep from the pores and cracks in my skin.
Everyday, brace yourself, force yourself to stay,
stay awake.
It's manageable in the dreams,
to hide the hurt and the scrapes from my own attack
scratching at the doors.
Maybe it's better still, wrapped in arms that don't want
but lust, but to drink what's inside me.
Take it all away.
Chances granted in missing,
but there is no need, no purpose, no use
for these bones.
Haunted everyday, with every move,
shadows will chase me.
I see faces, looking familiar
belonging to strangers
and it rips all the life away.

Thoughts From West Egg

I took a drive early yesterday morning to nowhere in particular, just a drive to breath a little. There wasn't much out there so I decided to stop at one of my favorite places in this world. I don't really know why I like it there. Maybe because it's almost always quiet, there's really no people around, but probably because it reminds me of walking around in the setting of one of my favorite books in the world, kind of like a two-for-one adventure. I just kind of sat down in the grass and took in everything around me and how it's changed. In the attitudes of the park benches, and the trees, and the age old houses that sit cozy in their dangerously close location to the water, all the flavor has been sucked out. It's almost like everything kind of left this place. It's been abandoned...by me.

Do memories ever remember us? Does the replaying in some other dimension of all our life's struggles and happiness ever think about where we went or what happened to us? Probably not. They're unaware of everything in a blissful way. Kind of like when someone hits you and it feels like it hurts at first but then goes away quickly, so you forget until later on when it all comes back as this horrid bruise and the person who hit you has no idea the hurt that they caused. They knew it at the initial strike but they didn't see what happened when they were gone, when they were no longer looking. But it's already over for them. They've moved on and there you are with this bruise that you barely even understand the origin of. We've all bruised at least one person in our lives and they're just walking around trying to deal with it. All the while we go confidently about our daily lives. But maybe we're all equal since we've all been bruised. It's kind of hard, making sense of something like that. I guess you just have to do your best not to bruise anyone or at least try and remember everyone. To never forget what they were saying before you hit them, who they were, why you were even standing there with them in the first place, is so important.

Memories can't remember, only we can. Our memories are not perfect even when people wish for one. But, there is a price for having a perfect memory. Everyone wants the memory of an elephant because they think it would help them, but the reality is, it would only make things unbearable to witness. True, you remember all of the happiness and all of the wondrous things that some people have the ability to say, but you can also remember all of the sad things those same people said, all of the things that weighed you down the minute they were spoken. And all of these things come together in some sort of mixed up and crazy way so that in the end you realize, you can't tell the truth from what was a lie. Suddenly you don't know anyone anymore and you feel like the dumbest animal alive. This whole world would make you fall apart in pain if you could remember everything. You would find yourself begging on bloody hands and knees not to be fooled again. But elephants, somehow they live in these perfect societies that are wise and beautiful. If it wasn't for the fact that they still fight, an elephant society would almost be a utopia. Elephants, however, don't long as humans do. Humans have a much more complex emotional range so that mental pain can quickly turn into physical pain.

There's a longing in me as there is in everyone. I can find myself drifting away in thought sometimes and a shower of hurt can fall over me as I realize, something is gone. It's like someone took a huge chunk of my chest and ripped it out, then ran away with it because that was all that was needed for them to go on living and for me, just to survive. It can wake me up in the middle of the night. It can disturb me as I'm reading a book and suddenly all of the words seem to pertain to my feeling, as if trying to draw a map to something I'll never get back. Sometimes it's as if a child has been ripped from me, and I can't ever see it again. There's a word for just about everything in the English language, but there really isn't a word strong enough to describe this feeling. The closest I've come is found in Portuguese: saudade. I think a lot of people have felt at least something similar. If they haven't, they more than likely will at some point in time. That isn't pessimism, it's just wisdom.

In the end, I suppose the only real trust is the trust you put in yourself. You can't lie to yourself, you'll always know the truth, even if you know absolutely nothing about you. You don't necessarily have to like who you are or what you've done, you just have to believe that one day, you may just get it right. People are quick to say that someone depressed has given up, but the truth is, they've fought for so long and tried so hard and believed so much but then found that none of it was worth while and they're tired. They've got too many bruises and can't stand up because it hurts so much. Never forget that everyone has fought a battle, no matter how young or old and those could have been terrors beyond belief. Nobody ever just falls down and says, "I give up." They keep trying until they're so exhausted that they don't have a choice but to lay down in the middle of the highway and let the world run over them. Be consistent in what you believe, it's all the possessions you really have. If you step away from it, you're the one giving up.

I realize that Blanche Dubois isn't exactly a model character to follow, but she deserves credit for the adversity she had to face and for never abandoning the truth about who she was. As they're escorting her away to the mental hospital at the end of the play, do you know what she says?
"I've always depended on the kindness of strangers." In my opinion, it's the bravest thing she does in the entire play. So I suppose I came to the conclusion around 2 am that, you have to remember everyone for who they are. Never forget how you saw someone yesterday, how beautiful they were, even if they've turned against you today. You can miss them all that you want, but they probably will never come back. You can hope for it though, and you become a saudade. But most of all, listen to Polonius before you leave, "This above all, to thine own self be true, and it must follow as the night the day, thou canst then be false to any man." Thanks, Shakespeare.

Concave Life

"What can you do now?"
As the crust of the Earth collapsed.
A face was no longer looking.
Somewhere in the canyon, a child cried.
And the sun set on today to what it became; yesterday.
There was no stopping that.
Only the words on a poignant whisper
could be heard through the rubble pounding of the war
and the scars being made
saying, "Nothing, nothing is the same."

The Innumerable Hours Of My Soul

The heart, what powers the soul, is like a child. It's small, naive, and hasn't the strength to keep this old soul alive. It beats though, audaciously, as it has no other purpose. And the soul, what walks in a world so frozen in unwavering beauty knows of the withering minutes in its time. but still it will climb any hill for its tenderness, for its love and its innocence. Although it knows, this is a world that echoes to but a whisper in its vacant cathedral halls, it walks among them to envy the hours of the flowers that share the ground, wishing one would match its truths to add mere seconds of bliss to the minutes which are frayed.

Age. It has its numbers and its years to expire. It has its winters and its springs. But nothing lasts as the heart or the soul, nothing is as evergreen and undying. But omniscient, by only the light of a candle in miles of darkness. It lasts and lives. And if it is seen in one of these glorious days, it shines. The music, which sings to bend above the trees delivers words carried on the tips of the syllables, the expanse in the crescendo, the passion in its verses. It lives. And the heart inspires on, calling for silence ahead at the precipice of life, not existence, in fact, different all the same. It is there. In front of me, all around me, it wraps to cradle me in its welcomed warmth. It will not hurt me. It will not harm me but instead may just devour me. It is that of a flame which never fades. It is hope. The only thing leftover. Too many things seen in too few days.

Hope. It lives. The only thing that really does.

The Scarlet Letter

"My heart was a habitation large enough for many guests, but lonely and chill, and without a household fire. I longed to kindle one! It seemed not so wild a dream [...]

She had wandered, without rule or guidance, into a moral wilderness. Her intellect and heart had their home, as it were, in desert places, where she roamed as freely as the wild Indian in his woods. The scarlet letter was her passport into regions where other women dared not tread. Shame, Despair, Solitude! These had been her teachers - stern and wild ones - and they had made her strong, but taught her much amiss. [...] She had not known the weight until she felt the freedom."

~Nathaniel Hawthorne~

Blind

My eyes are gone.
I haven't lived this way.
I wasn't trained,
but it is the price I've had to pay.

They have stolen my eyes.
I tried so hard not to cry.
Their hands wrapped so well around my throat,
the only thing that was meant to be.
They told me it was better not to see,
they convinced me.
They stole my eyes.

I see only blackness.
When I walk,
I stumble over the things around me,
the things I can't have.
They are not mine,
they are like my eyes.

If I could have my eyes,
I'd look once more on the night skies.
I'd watch light turn dark
and brilliant dazzling bodies,
miles away,
They don't exist by the time they reach
my eyes.

My eyes are gone.
They have stolen my eyes.
I wish I could see you now,
with my eyes.

My eyes are gone.
They have burned my eyes.