Sometimes You Just Have To Smile
Turn the volume up. Sit back. Relax. Enjoy.
I'll start flipping the Church the bird in a minute. A couple things:
First of all, Casey, if you think I’ve touched on any of your “faults as a human being,” you’re wrong. You’re a unique, beautiful, honest, and loving person. So you’re shy. So your courage rests on shifting sand. So you’re a little naïve. Guess what. The same is true for me. You’ll find your own way, just as I will find mine. And that holds true for everyone. We all find our own way. And if you can find a point in the untidy mess of my last post it’s this: you shouldn’t apologize for searching, deciding, and testing your way.
I love the study of history. I love it because most people take Henry Ford's view that it's, "just one damn thing after another." What a bunch of stupid fuckers. I'm not delusional enough to think there are any inherent lessons to learn from history. Nope, nu-uh, wrong-o. History tickles my balls because it's not just a field of study, it's a perspective. It's like studying the mind through past actions. It can be applied to everything. Nothing escapes the all-seeing eye of the historical perspective.
Well, I sure talked about it enough, perhaps it's time to pony up and let you decide for yourselves. So, without further bullshitting, I present to you ANWR - Stall Tactics - Epiphany. In my own defense, I haven't used MLA citations in over 5 years, so before you unlock the pillory, remember - I'm only super human. (And the APA or Chicago styles are far sexier.)
The wrost part about blogging is having nothing to say sometimes. Actually that isn't true. I have a ton of things to say, but so little time and energy to do so when I sit down to type them out. For that matter, I doubt that I have the ability to fully articulate these thoughts properly; and even if I did, there is more than just a little chance that you would mistake it for something else entirely. It's more than a little bit frustrating.
Perhaps I really am a prude. I am awfully uptight. I used to think I was simply being a caring person prone to an unusual amount of worry. I’m wound so tight most of the time and take so many things so seriously; I do come off as a prude a lot of the time. For example, today in my English class we turned in our first big research papers. I got so carried away with the actual writing of the paper that I allowed a number of procedural concerns fall by the wayside…like the MLA citations. Sure I did them, but grudgingly. Chicago and APA are far superior in my opinion. I’m sure I’m overcompensating for something… And I’m digressing.