To whom it may concern (stop)
this blog is dead (stop)
i just got word from cristothalgar (stippidydoo a stustu stop'er'eee'duu)
check it out (stop)
"I think your blog is dead... huh?" (end communication)
as i was pulled out of the real reality (aim conversations, if your confused ask about my theory on myspace and descartes meditations ---- matrix philosophy)))) i became disoriented
i don't know, but the final chapter (Couch Bandits) will be released tuesday as scheduled. i want my peeps to understand that i keep it on the real fosho with my umbrellas fodrizzle, my android unstunted, and my casual walkway with moderate traffic. I am writing for the sake of writing, i may not post everyday, but if that is the case, I am putting more time than just a day into what will eventually become my published future writing. So there will be times of silence, but im still on the thought attack. My current deterent is my due essays in epistemology.
So without further ado anu au woowoo waka waka skankology mustard stain:
Justification as Performance and Grounds
I. Introduction
In his short, but important article, “Is Justified True Belief Knowledge?” Edmund Gettier challenged our understanding of knowledge. Published in 1963, it has generated hundreds of responses. For a period of about ten years, the philosophical field of epistemology primarily focused on solving the Gettier problem. To this present day, there is no general consensus that the problem posed by Gettier has been solved, even though there have been many attempts at solving the problem. Fogelin thinks that Gettier was right to challenge the claim that justified true belief is sufficient for knowledge; however, Fogelin believes that Gettier’s conception of justification is at best weak. Fogelin states that Gettier understands justification as being epistemically responsible and that conception negates that having the right grounds are also a part of justification. We, the outside observers of the Gettier examples, have a wider range of information than the characters in the examples. We are able to pinpoint where Smith (character in example) went wrong (bad grounds) even though he was not epistemically irresponsible in believing the claim he inferred.
II. Understanding Gettier
Gettier wrote his article with the motivation to challenge our understanding of propositional knowledge. Propositional knowledge usually takes the form of “knowledge that P,” and P holds the place for some claim (e.g. knowledge that the earth is round). Propositional knowledge is usually attributed to practical knowledge, or normal claims. Propositional knowledge can be justified inductively (and deductively). If too many unreasonable constraints are made in the quest for inductive knowledge the implication would be that one would know very little about the world around him. Therefore, a set of rules to state necessary and sufficient conditions for someone knowing a given proposition must be adequate and not too strict. Gettier examples pose ordinary inductive procedure carried out in normal ways based on the following (or similar) conditions for knowledge: S knows that P if P is true, S believes that P, and s is justified in believing that P.
Before Gettier presented his challenge for someone to know P they would have to appeal to the three following conditions. (i) If P is true, (ii) S believes P and (iii) S is justified in believing that P, S is justified in claiming some sort of knowledge. For S to appeal to all three conditions implies that S has knowledge, i.e. the three conditions together are sufficient for knowledge. Gettier argues that the three conditions actually do not constitute a sufficient condition for the truth of the proposition that S knows that P.
Gettier comes to this conclusion by reasoning the two following points: (1) it is possible for a person to be justified in believing a proposition that is false, and (2) the principle of transitivity states that if s is justified in believing that P, P entails Q, S deduces Q from P and P accepts Q as a result of this deduction, S is justified in believing that P. However, if it is possible to be justified in believing something that is false, it is possible to deduce a true proposition Q from a false proposition P. If this is the case then the instance of belief in Q is not knowledge even though all three of the conditions that constitute knowledge sufficiently have been qualified.
Gettier shows that this is possible by the famous Gettier cases (or examples). Case I describes the Smith situation. Jones and Smith have applied for a job. The president of the company tells Smith that Jones will get the job and Jones has ten coins in his pocket. Smith deduces from these premises that the man who will get the job has ten coins in his pocket (E). However, Smith is the man who gets the job and incidentally he also has ten coins in his pocket. E is true, Smith believes (E) and is justified in believing (E). It is completely incidental that (E); (E) is not true by virtue of the premises. Therefore, what is traditionally regarded as sufficient for knowledge has been satisfied. However, (E) is not an instance of knowledge.
III. Fogelin on Gettier
Fogelin’s take on the Gettier problem is that Gettier was right to critique justified true belief as sufficient for knowledge on Gettier’s conception of justification. Gettier does not define what he means by justification though. When Fogelin makes an attempt to understand Gettier’s (and most philosophers) conception of justification, he finds that this conception, drawn from Gettier’s examples, fails to fully show what it takes to justify a belief.
Fogelin begins his discussion by making the point that most philosophers have attacked Gettier’s point of transitivity. Fogelin wishes to attack the other main assumption that “It is possible for a person to be justified in believing a proposition that is in fact false in which S’s being justified in believing that P is a necessary condition of S’s knowing that P.”
Justification plays a central role in Gettier’s argument against biconditionals. Therefore, it is crucial to come to a clear understanding of what is meant by justification. Since Gettier never actually defines what he means by justification, Fogelin develops a definition of justification through Gettier’s examples. In each example Gettier uses, the character is epistemically responsible in inferring (E). There is nothing wrong with the process Smith uses to infer (E). Smith used an inductive procedure without any dubious steps or guessing. His evidence was strong, and he logically inferred a conclusion from premises that entailed such a conclusion. Epistemic responsibility is what Gettier means by justification. For one to be justified, one needs to follow rational guidelines in forming beliefs. When justification is defined this way, Gettier’s examples seem to be devastating to the claim that justified true belief is knowledge. Any weak proposition can be derived from something false and incidentally be true. Such a claim is justifiably arrived at, but fails to be a case of knowledge.
IV. Justification and Information
Fogelin claims that justification does not only mean epistemic responsibility, but also means that the grounds establish the truth. In saying that S is justified in believing that P is true, one is saying that s was epistemically responsible in believing that P and S has adequate grounds for believing that P. Said grounds must establish the truth of P. This does not mean entailment, but S’s grounds must be adequate for establishing the truth. Fogelin is not giving a guideline for what is adequate since his essay aims at a conceptual analysis. Applying this principle to the Gettier case makes it evident that Smith actually was not justified in believing that e. Fogelin claims that every Gettier case will have this effect. The main character in the example is always epistemically responsible, but the grounds he/she uses are never adequate for the belief to be justified.
However, it seems that if one has inadequate grounds for establishing a belief, then one by virtue of the circumstances in question, has to be acting episetmically irresponsible. In many cases, this will be true since grounds and epistemic responsibility overlap. Grounds can be easily obscured by the performance. There is a distinction though, however hard to determine within a situation. It is easier to view the two clauses as separated by a third person perspective (as we are doing currently). We the readers have a wider range of information than S does. This is important because the strength of an inductive argument can be affected by the adding of additional premises. Deductive arguments do not have this quality. If an argument is deductively valid and the premises are true the conclusion is guaranteed. Adding a premise (while the argument is still valid) will not change the truth-value of the conclusion. Inductive inferences are nonmonotonic.
We the readers of the examples have more information than the central characters. Say, if Smith would have known that he had ten coins in his pocket, but still thought Jones would get the job and was ignorant to the amount of coins in Jones pocket, Smith would not have made the same inference. Given a broader range of information, one can see that Smiths justifcatory grounds are undercut, though not in a way that S could be expected to recognize or take provision against (Fogelin). So it may seem that one has to be epsietmically irresponsible if one does not have adequate grounds, but it would be impossible for S to know his grounds are inadequate given his situation. Therefore, given the wider information the reader has, we can see that his grounds are inadequate albeit responsibly invoked. Fogelin calls this problem that Smith has an informational mismatch.
V. Conclusion
The traditional analysis of knowledge defines justified true belief as knowledge. Gettier found that there are instances when one has a justified true belief but not knowledge. Fogelin understands Gettier’s analysis as misunderstanding justification as only meaning epistemic responsibility. But justification also has to do with if the grounds adequately entail what is inferred. Therefore, such instances of belief are not justified.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Couch Bandits
Continued from last post
Fireplace Chat:
I'm really happy with all the responses. I never thought anyone would actually read this stuff, but seems like people are including my cousin sara, robert (1/5th of the hep) and my team contributor to the cast blog mark (check links). So anyway, i am really really relly busy, but because there actually is an audience now, hahahahaha, i got this part done before work.
Story
1:00am: I think the night has finished; I always do the first moments my feet make motion in the direction of home, but this night was different. This was the first night 920 #2 was in full motion on the way home. All three roommates, heavier from fermentation and grains, on a mission to get home. After walking four blocks, we passed 9th and noticed something that wouldn’t usually catch any of our eyes. Two beautiful couches lay on the porch of the house at the corner of 9th. You may not realize this, but as of now, our couch situation is a bit scares. Thee are three roommates, and tons of people dropping by to watch the game on our decently sized screen. We only have one couch, and it’s a love seat- the thing fits two people, leaving many others uncomfortable in Nick’s old wooden chair. What our problem comes down to is we need a couch, we need to be comfortable, we needed those two beautiful couches laying gracefully in front of our eyes, we needed their to be a moment when reality failed to consist of rules, we needed to be. Our mission has just changed.
In an act of semi-drunken desperation, Nick and Tyler grabbed one of the couches and proceeded to walk down the street. Not the best idea, since it would be at least a full mile before we got home. Luckily, they realized this early, and dropped that shit onto the sidewalk. I was with them all the way. I knew at that moment I desired either be the one who stole a couch and walked over a mile to get home with it, or got arrested for one of the most ill thought out drunken schemes in my history of activities.
Try as we little, we couldn’t move the couch any further. But once you’ve got the taste of couch you can’t rinse it out. It lingers there for hours, like a vampire and its blood thirst. Almost every step home, someone mentioned the word couch in connection with stealing. And after not so careful deliberation we decided we were going to walk to Rio-Chico, steal a couch and carry it all the way home. Rio-Chico seemed like the best bet, even though the walk from there was still 15 minutes till our apartment, it was the safest way home with a couch on our backs. A five-second walk to the train tracks and we were already in-cognito. From there it would be smooth sailing.
On the way to destiny two drunken plastics crossed our paths. I asked one of them if she was a giraffe. Not that she was tall, I just wanted to convey that I knew she has, will or may have had the property of giraffedom. One of them said “You can’t have this.” To which Tyler replied “Can’t have no giraffe babies.” By then they had vanished into downtown to eat some leaves in high up places or something. Didn’t change our focus. Our minds became locked into the thought of owning a couch in such a ridiculous way. We walked to Rio, we found the perfect couch, and we scoped out the situation only to find people inside. It was still only 1:30, upon checking my cell phone I realized that I could still make a beer run. The celebration ale we had at the pre party and wine had been cashed for days. Therefore, in the present situation, principle two caused one and three. Such standards we live by usually happen in bunches, and were always quick to notice.
2:30am:
This is where you learn about how I became a premeditated couch stealer.
More to Come!!!!!!
Fireplace Chat:
I'm really happy with all the responses. I never thought anyone would actually read this stuff, but seems like people are including my cousin sara, robert (1/5th of the hep) and my team contributor to the cast blog mark (check links). So anyway, i am really really relly busy, but because there actually is an audience now, hahahahaha, i got this part done before work.
Story
1:00am: I think the night has finished; I always do the first moments my feet make motion in the direction of home, but this night was different. This was the first night 920 #2 was in full motion on the way home. All three roommates, heavier from fermentation and grains, on a mission to get home. After walking four blocks, we passed 9th and noticed something that wouldn’t usually catch any of our eyes. Two beautiful couches lay on the porch of the house at the corner of 9th. You may not realize this, but as of now, our couch situation is a bit scares. Thee are three roommates, and tons of people dropping by to watch the game on our decently sized screen. We only have one couch, and it’s a love seat- the thing fits two people, leaving many others uncomfortable in Nick’s old wooden chair. What our problem comes down to is we need a couch, we need to be comfortable, we needed those two beautiful couches laying gracefully in front of our eyes, we needed their to be a moment when reality failed to consist of rules, we needed to be. Our mission has just changed.
In an act of semi-drunken desperation, Nick and Tyler grabbed one of the couches and proceeded to walk down the street. Not the best idea, since it would be at least a full mile before we got home. Luckily, they realized this early, and dropped that shit onto the sidewalk. I was with them all the way. I knew at that moment I desired either be the one who stole a couch and walked over a mile to get home with it, or got arrested for one of the most ill thought out drunken schemes in my history of activities.
Try as we little, we couldn’t move the couch any further. But once you’ve got the taste of couch you can’t rinse it out. It lingers there for hours, like a vampire and its blood thirst. Almost every step home, someone mentioned the word couch in connection with stealing. And after not so careful deliberation we decided we were going to walk to Rio-Chico, steal a couch and carry it all the way home. Rio-Chico seemed like the best bet, even though the walk from there was still 15 minutes till our apartment, it was the safest way home with a couch on our backs. A five-second walk to the train tracks and we were already in-cognito. From there it would be smooth sailing.
On the way to destiny two drunken plastics crossed our paths. I asked one of them if she was a giraffe. Not that she was tall, I just wanted to convey that I knew she has, will or may have had the property of giraffedom. One of them said “You can’t have this.” To which Tyler replied “Can’t have no giraffe babies.” By then they had vanished into downtown to eat some leaves in high up places or something. Didn’t change our focus. Our minds became locked into the thought of owning a couch in such a ridiculous way. We walked to Rio, we found the perfect couch, and we scoped out the situation only to find people inside. It was still only 1:30, upon checking my cell phone I realized that I could still make a beer run. The celebration ale we had at the pre party and wine had been cashed for days. Therefore, in the present situation, principle two caused one and three. Such standards we live by usually happen in bunches, and were always quick to notice.
2:30am:
This is where you learn about how I became a premeditated couch stealer.
More to Come!!!!!!
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Couch Bandits
Continued from last post
Fireplace Chat
i'm sure all my readers (all three of them) are feeling the paralyzing grip of suspense. And yet, i am going to attempt to keep you there... read on:
Story
9:30pm: After consuming a round of beers via the card game asshole we headed out to a costume party. I didn’t actually find this information out until I got into the car. My perceptions told me so because the two girls in the car were both beer maids. One of them looked like St. Paul’s girl and the other looked like a straight up skank who would end up getting me a lot of beer; therefore, she must have been a beer maiden. It took two cars to ship our people to the costume party, but when we got there I noticed that it would only take two more to move the entire party including guests already attending. A.k.a. this party was lame. I don’t think I have ever been to a weirder party in my life. One of the guys, dressed as a deusbag, asked me on more than one occasion for money for pot. I felt like I was walking down San Francisco at night, but the bum knew me, so he could spare me the bullshit. I told him I had no money, he then asked Nick, Tyler and I for weed, coke, booze and LSD! I don’t go to many get together parties when I don’t know the people, because of shit like this. However, it was interesting none the less. I consumed some more beer during this joke of a party, so it wasn’t a total loss of time and mind. As soon as Paul (neighbor/friend/Iraqi war vet) told me it was time to bounce, I didn’t say goodbye to anyone I had met, I didn’t even flinch to look back, because I know if I had stalled I might be left there. This brings us to principle number three: When a friend is serious about leaving its time to leave. This rule can only be broken under circumstances of sex and despotism.
11:00pm: We arrive at party two, and the moment I step out the car I know it’s a better party for the sole fact that none of the people at this present party were people I had just previously met (oh yeah, did I tell you their apt. stunk like big foots dick). This new party was popping. It was a girl’s birthday, she had lots of booze. She had aged whisky, beer, wine… you name it, I could have drank it. But I had to have whisky on the rocks, a timeless drink, especially cuz this cute girl who looked like velma from Scooby do was pouring me a glass. My first impression of her was that I wanted to solve a mystery and then bone while thinking about justice. But I knew my oddly animalistic and moral instincts had to subside, so we talked for a while.
She asked me why I drank. An odd question I thought, I asked her why she drank. She told me she wanted to forget the sober day behind her even though the intoxicant didn’t help a bit. She replied so quickly, I drew two conclusions. First, I knew she was telling the truth, and second, her personality was false, she was really dumb and desperate like any fake blond plastic doll [note, you may find plastics not so desperate, but the way one makes oneself (fake hot) is desperate to me]. But, I’m in sarcastic state, so I replied with “To hit on girls who look like velma from Scooby do.”
She didn’t understand what I meant by that. At that point, even her dark rimmed glasses and quirky demeanor couldn’t fake smarts. She was a hack, a fake, a con artist. She didn’t know anymore than the dumb blond across the room, which scared me. Maybe I should try for someone way way outside my league, and lose the hot but overly begging crime solving mistress. I was unsure of myself yet again, and worst of all my stereotyping radar was striking out.
I told her she scared the shit out of me after I kissed her softly. Then I exited stage right. I left her attention to steal as much food, booze and pumpkin insides as I could humanly possible. After a couple hours, Tyler had stolen a hat and he was “tired of it.” In applying principles one and three we fled, but like events to be explained later, unspoken forced broke up our stealing brigade. The dude who’s Tyler stole from came out with tyler’s sunglasses and wanted to trade for his hat. To this day, nobody knows how he got his glasses, or even how he knew Tyler left (since we existed out the back).
Fireplace Chat
i'm sure all my readers (all three of them) are feeling the paralyzing grip of suspense. And yet, i am going to attempt to keep you there... read on:
Story
9:30pm: After consuming a round of beers via the card game asshole we headed out to a costume party. I didn’t actually find this information out until I got into the car. My perceptions told me so because the two girls in the car were both beer maids. One of them looked like St. Paul’s girl and the other looked like a straight up skank who would end up getting me a lot of beer; therefore, she must have been a beer maiden. It took two cars to ship our people to the costume party, but when we got there I noticed that it would only take two more to move the entire party including guests already attending. A.k.a. this party was lame. I don’t think I have ever been to a weirder party in my life. One of the guys, dressed as a deusbag, asked me on more than one occasion for money for pot. I felt like I was walking down San Francisco at night, but the bum knew me, so he could spare me the bullshit. I told him I had no money, he then asked Nick, Tyler and I for weed, coke, booze and LSD! I don’t go to many get together parties when I don’t know the people, because of shit like this. However, it was interesting none the less. I consumed some more beer during this joke of a party, so it wasn’t a total loss of time and mind. As soon as Paul (neighbor/friend/Iraqi war vet) told me it was time to bounce, I didn’t say goodbye to anyone I had met, I didn’t even flinch to look back, because I know if I had stalled I might be left there. This brings us to principle number three: When a friend is serious about leaving its time to leave. This rule can only be broken under circumstances of sex and despotism.
11:00pm: We arrive at party two, and the moment I step out the car I know it’s a better party for the sole fact that none of the people at this present party were people I had just previously met (oh yeah, did I tell you their apt. stunk like big foots dick). This new party was popping. It was a girl’s birthday, she had lots of booze. She had aged whisky, beer, wine… you name it, I could have drank it. But I had to have whisky on the rocks, a timeless drink, especially cuz this cute girl who looked like velma from Scooby do was pouring me a glass. My first impression of her was that I wanted to solve a mystery and then bone while thinking about justice. But I knew my oddly animalistic and moral instincts had to subside, so we talked for a while.
She asked me why I drank. An odd question I thought, I asked her why she drank. She told me she wanted to forget the sober day behind her even though the intoxicant didn’t help a bit. She replied so quickly, I drew two conclusions. First, I knew she was telling the truth, and second, her personality was false, she was really dumb and desperate like any fake blond plastic doll [note, you may find plastics not so desperate, but the way one makes oneself (fake hot) is desperate to me]. But, I’m in sarcastic state, so I replied with “To hit on girls who look like velma from Scooby do.”
She didn’t understand what I meant by that. At that point, even her dark rimmed glasses and quirky demeanor couldn’t fake smarts. She was a hack, a fake, a con artist. She didn’t know anymore than the dumb blond across the room, which scared me. Maybe I should try for someone way way outside my league, and lose the hot but overly begging crime solving mistress. I was unsure of myself yet again, and worst of all my stereotyping radar was striking out.
I told her she scared the shit out of me after I kissed her softly. Then I exited stage right. I left her attention to steal as much food, booze and pumpkin insides as I could humanly possible. After a couple hours, Tyler had stolen a hat and he was “tired of it.” In applying principles one and three we fled, but like events to be explained later, unspoken forced broke up our stealing brigade. The dude who’s Tyler stole from came out with tyler’s sunglasses and wanted to trade for his hat. To this day, nobody knows how he got his glasses, or even how he knew Tyler left (since we existed out the back).
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Couch Bandits
***DISCLAIMER*** This blog is written for me, by me and of me. This is blogweiser, this is my blog. And as we all know I am not accustomed to censoring any bit of information that might be deemed offensive. But today I am embarking into new territory, since what follows is not only offensive, but could actually be incriminating. Therefore, I am issuing a qualifier before my following criminality is exposed. Whatever is read following this disclaimer is true. However, reading the following dubs my writing false. If you want to know the truth, you’re going to have to settle for some lies. KAPEESH!!!!
Fireplace Chat
This story was originally titled “A moral decline on a timid Chico night,” because I wanted to give what happened meaning, give it shape. I desired to show the events that happened last Saturday as connected. The more beer my roommates and I consumed the more volatile we got, but this just isn’t true.
Story
6:00pm: Nick and I arrive back to the apartment from band practice. Tyler, my newer/sexier roommate (note, I will still cheat on him someday) was, and I quote “Tired of it.” A claim he makes quite often, and is always sarcastic. This statement has almost become the slogan for our apartment and for what our apartment stands for. Because we believe that no matter how much money, looks, polish and shit someone’s got, were tired of you and your shit. Think of us as lazy anarchists. We’ll say fuck off as soon as we get a chance, but feel mildly winded afterwards. Anyway, what he meant by that was it was time for Nick, my older/but still sexy roommate, and I to get some coals for the BBQ. So we did causing a slightly less “tired of it” Tyler.
7:00pm: Food is ready and it is BOMB! Probably the best meal I have ever had at a college apartment let alone my own place. We threw down like we were about to get electrocuted. Steak with fresh garlic and portebello mushrooms, southwestern cilantro sausages mixed in fresh grilled peppers and onions with BBQ corn on the cob on the side. We all toasted (the apartment + Matt and some neighbors) with a glass or two of two buck chuck. Obviously the next principle, but an equally important principle, is that we BBQ as much as possible. Since Tyler has moved in we have not missed a beat. We have hit the grill no less than 5 times in the last two and a half weeks. I’m proud to say I live at 920 west sac apt. 2. If you are government affiliated, read the disclaimer.
P.S. -- -- -- -- This will be released in segments due to the length.
Next segment to be released within 2 days::::: Snuggle by the fire place and get some rest you reader you!!!
Fireplace Chat
This story was originally titled “A moral decline on a timid Chico night,” because I wanted to give what happened meaning, give it shape. I desired to show the events that happened last Saturday as connected. The more beer my roommates and I consumed the more volatile we got, but this just isn’t true.
Story
6:00pm: Nick and I arrive back to the apartment from band practice. Tyler, my newer/sexier roommate (note, I will still cheat on him someday) was, and I quote “Tired of it.” A claim he makes quite often, and is always sarcastic. This statement has almost become the slogan for our apartment and for what our apartment stands for. Because we believe that no matter how much money, looks, polish and shit someone’s got, were tired of you and your shit. Think of us as lazy anarchists. We’ll say fuck off as soon as we get a chance, but feel mildly winded afterwards. Anyway, what he meant by that was it was time for Nick, my older/but still sexy roommate, and I to get some coals for the BBQ. So we did causing a slightly less “tired of it” Tyler.
7:00pm: Food is ready and it is BOMB! Probably the best meal I have ever had at a college apartment let alone my own place. We threw down like we were about to get electrocuted. Steak with fresh garlic and portebello mushrooms, southwestern cilantro sausages mixed in fresh grilled peppers and onions with BBQ corn on the cob on the side. We all toasted (the apartment + Matt and some neighbors) with a glass or two of two buck chuck. Obviously the next principle, but an equally important principle, is that we BBQ as much as possible. Since Tyler has moved in we have not missed a beat. We have hit the grill no less than 5 times in the last two and a half weeks. I’m proud to say I live at 920 west sac apt. 2. If you are government affiliated, read the disclaimer.
P.S. -- -- -- -- This will be released in segments due to the length.
Next segment to be released within 2 days::::: Snuggle by the fire place and get some rest you reader you!!!
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Swan Song
The following is a dedication to Mary Jane. She was my mistress for many years.
Marijuana is a funny substance; can casually influence increased cookie in-take on my behalf. Mary Jane can do a lot for a developing human being- it has for me. I started smoking when I was fourteen. Back then smoking once in a week was an extreme quantity followed by hours of homework done under high amounts of felt guilt. I have smoked the good stuff while playing guitar, while walking out under a rarely-mild Chico sun, before chaos ensued at my parents house one weeknight (people dancing and thrashing to Charles and I rock out and Robert play with some flashing lights), I have smoked and then played basketball for two straight hours and I probably have toked a bowl or two with you.
However, lately I smoke on my couch. I hit the bong with some friends and roommates. We chill, have a few laughs, watch a bit of TV, and do nothing real exciting. This activity is slowly eating away at me. It seems, more often than not, that I find myself questioning this very activity that I engage in. I used to get so much out of pot. But it wasn’t just the pot, it was pot mixed with good friends, add in a bit of creativity or actual activity and wahl’la.
I doubt weather smoking pot is what I really want anymore. I smoke just about everyday, most days I don’t even plan on smoking but someone will end up offering me bud. The blast of it all is I have no will power to say no. I don’t even think, I just light up. Worst of all, marijuana gives me the feeling that I am compromising myself in some significant way.
To explain this phenomenon, you may require some backstory. I tend to gravitate towards things of intelligence. Movies I watch, music I listen to, books I read I will enjoy more when thoughtful. Its not that I am smart, I just like smart. And its not that I don’t watch the occasional “Dude Where’s My Car,” because I do. Smart girls get me going for instance. On the flip side though the wacky weed not only dumbs my friends and I down a notch, it hinders communication between us. Furthermore, the more I smoke the less I feel able to complete complicated philosophic homework. My love for knowledge and my desire to smoke presents a contradiction. How can I believe myself to be one who enjoys intelligence a great deal and still get high all the time? There must be a breaking point.
After Thoughts by the Fire place:
I might be a nerd who acted cool so no one could catch on to the real me- a bonified fucking nerd. I mean come on friends and those plotting my revenge and those friends plotting my revenge- I'M WRITING A FUCKING BLOG FOR CHRIST SAKES. More Evidence you ask- You got it home skillet… the great Mr. Nolan (sophomore English teacher) nominated me for student of the year because he felt that I try to hide my smarts behind a fake cool front. He was trying to force me into the academic limelight, but his actions have yet to result in something positive. But now I have come full circle back to my nerdy side; a man, without his pocket full of skunk bud. A contented man, none the less.
A note to the reader- B
Marijuana is a funny substance; can casually influence increased cookie in-take on my behalf. Mary Jane can do a lot for a developing human being- it has for me. I started smoking when I was fourteen. Back then smoking once in a week was an extreme quantity followed by hours of homework done under high amounts of felt guilt. I have smoked the good stuff while playing guitar, while walking out under a rarely-mild Chico sun, before chaos ensued at my parents house one weeknight (people dancing and thrashing to Charles and I rock out and Robert play with some flashing lights), I have smoked and then played basketball for two straight hours and I probably have toked a bowl or two with you.
However, lately I smoke on my couch. I hit the bong with some friends and roommates. We chill, have a few laughs, watch a bit of TV, and do nothing real exciting. This activity is slowly eating away at me. It seems, more often than not, that I find myself questioning this very activity that I engage in. I used to get so much out of pot. But it wasn’t just the pot, it was pot mixed with good friends, add in a bit of creativity or actual activity and wahl’la.
I doubt weather smoking pot is what I really want anymore. I smoke just about everyday, most days I don’t even plan on smoking but someone will end up offering me bud. The blast of it all is I have no will power to say no. I don’t even think, I just light up. Worst of all, marijuana gives me the feeling that I am compromising myself in some significant way.
To explain this phenomenon, you may require some backstory. I tend to gravitate towards things of intelligence. Movies I watch, music I listen to, books I read I will enjoy more when thoughtful. Its not that I am smart, I just like smart. And its not that I don’t watch the occasional “Dude Where’s My Car,” because I do. Smart girls get me going for instance. On the flip side though the wacky weed not only dumbs my friends and I down a notch, it hinders communication between us. Furthermore, the more I smoke the less I feel able to complete complicated philosophic homework. My love for knowledge and my desire to smoke presents a contradiction. How can I believe myself to be one who enjoys intelligence a great deal and still get high all the time? There must be a breaking point.
After Thoughts by the Fire place:
I might be a nerd who acted cool so no one could catch on to the real me- a bonified fucking nerd. I mean come on friends and those plotting my revenge and those friends plotting my revenge- I'M WRITING A FUCKING BLOG FOR CHRIST SAKES. More Evidence you ask- You got it home skillet… the great Mr. Nolan (sophomore English teacher) nominated me for student of the year because he felt that I try to hide my smarts behind a fake cool front. He was trying to force me into the academic limelight, but his actions have yet to result in something positive. But now I have come full circle back to my nerdy side; a man, without his pocket full of skunk bud. A contented man, none the less.
A note to the reader- B
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
A Conflicting Understanding of Friendship
This blog of mine here is going to contain my thoughts. No matter what thoughts they are, albeit dirty or cumbersome. So, without further or do, I will now speak of my conversation with my departed girlfriend. No, she is not dead, but x is just too harsh a word.
She broke up with me this summer. I think I took it better than even I could have expected. I still feel a bit hurt by the whole thing, I mean, we went out for nearly 3 years, but I think I’m over it. She told me she doesn’t have the feeling she once did for me. I think that hurt the worse. I don’t know how feelings could just change like that. We still talk, or as she likes to say “I am the only one who calls,” quotith her.
Now, she broke up with me- so we must have had some problems in our relationship. I think I was too dumb to really grasp said problems at the time, but through my ultra-clear retrospective bifocals we did have a problem or to. I always found myself on the verge of breaking up with her, but I couldn’t, because no matter the problems I still loved her. I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that we were both in a major relationship for the first time. We didn’t have the experience to deal with some of the things that came up. I feel confidently that I could dissolve a lot of the problems that we have if they came up in a new relationship. However, I did try to stop said problems. I think I changed significantly throughout the relationship. The shitty thing about it is, I felt I finally caved in and changed for her. And the moment when I felt like I had done something good it was over. Maybe she liked the old me better, no matter how jagged. Breakups don’t make sense to me, this one especially didn’t.
But no matter what I think about it, or have thought, or how confused it made me we are not together. That is fine, I’m still living in Chico and she has moved to Sonoma. However, we are broken up. The crux of the matter is, we still talk from time to time, be she still has the tendency to get mad at me.
She feels that a relationship, such as the friendship we’re now sharing, must be reciprocal. Friends should call one another (especially is they live far away). It is the duty of a friend to be there for another and so on. She says our friendship isn’t reciprocal. She calls too often (meaning I don’t call enough), and I have the tendency to end conversations too early. Or as she puts it “Before the conversation has picked up” or “before any meaning.”
I feel she is right when it comes to the definition of friendship. I believe friends should show reciprocity, and I also think she is right to point out I have been ending calls quickly. The problem here is that every time I say goodbye, I do so for a good reason. She has caught me at a couple of bad times. I’m single now, I don’t think I need to talk to her the very moment she calls. I value her calls and I want to talk to her when I can, so she is going to have to wait for me to call her back. She also says I never call, but that’s because she has called the last three times within the same week. I don’t feel an obligation to call all the time, I only call when I desire to call. And since I am her friend that will happen often, but I’m not the type of person to call people outside of my town all the time. My best friends that I have known since before I even knew her I don’t talk to nearly as often. But we still consider our friendship reciprocal, we just hang out when there is time.
Your probably asking yourself… why is he writing this??? Hasn’t he resolved anything? The answer is yes and no. Please don’t take this essay to be hatin’ on my prior girl, I also act in ways that make it easy for shit to go down. And quite possibly our friendship is over, since at the end of our last conversation I acted very childish. She told me I wasn’t treating her like a friend, that I was treating her badly. I became intensely offended. Over the years I tried so hard to be the guy she wanted but failed, so she broke up with me. I still feel tremendous guilt for failing, and yet the girl who left me is still there yelling at me. I just couldn’t take it. In a cleverly sarcastic, yet childish act I hung up our conversation when she told me I always end the conversations to soon.
What you just read may seem trivial to you, but she takes her virtues seriously. I wasn’t up to par, and it was a serious offense. In an odd way, that’s something I liked about her. She had a lot of virtue, intellect and passion for life.
That could be the last time we talk. A fitting end to something that was more meaningful to me than any other series of events that have taken place in my life. This long-term relationship changed me in ways I could never have imagined.
p.s. I hope we do talk again soon though.
She broke up with me this summer. I think I took it better than even I could have expected. I still feel a bit hurt by the whole thing, I mean, we went out for nearly 3 years, but I think I’m over it. She told me she doesn’t have the feeling she once did for me. I think that hurt the worse. I don’t know how feelings could just change like that. We still talk, or as she likes to say “I am the only one who calls,” quotith her.
Now, she broke up with me- so we must have had some problems in our relationship. I think I was too dumb to really grasp said problems at the time, but through my ultra-clear retrospective bifocals we did have a problem or to. I always found myself on the verge of breaking up with her, but I couldn’t, because no matter the problems I still loved her. I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that we were both in a major relationship for the first time. We didn’t have the experience to deal with some of the things that came up. I feel confidently that I could dissolve a lot of the problems that we have if they came up in a new relationship. However, I did try to stop said problems. I think I changed significantly throughout the relationship. The shitty thing about it is, I felt I finally caved in and changed for her. And the moment when I felt like I had done something good it was over. Maybe she liked the old me better, no matter how jagged. Breakups don’t make sense to me, this one especially didn’t.
But no matter what I think about it, or have thought, or how confused it made me we are not together. That is fine, I’m still living in Chico and she has moved to Sonoma. However, we are broken up. The crux of the matter is, we still talk from time to time, be she still has the tendency to get mad at me.
She feels that a relationship, such as the friendship we’re now sharing, must be reciprocal. Friends should call one another (especially is they live far away). It is the duty of a friend to be there for another and so on. She says our friendship isn’t reciprocal. She calls too often (meaning I don’t call enough), and I have the tendency to end conversations too early. Or as she puts it “Before the conversation has picked up” or “before any meaning.”
I feel she is right when it comes to the definition of friendship. I believe friends should show reciprocity, and I also think she is right to point out I have been ending calls quickly. The problem here is that every time I say goodbye, I do so for a good reason. She has caught me at a couple of bad times. I’m single now, I don’t think I need to talk to her the very moment she calls. I value her calls and I want to talk to her when I can, so she is going to have to wait for me to call her back. She also says I never call, but that’s because she has called the last three times within the same week. I don’t feel an obligation to call all the time, I only call when I desire to call. And since I am her friend that will happen often, but I’m not the type of person to call people outside of my town all the time. My best friends that I have known since before I even knew her I don’t talk to nearly as often. But we still consider our friendship reciprocal, we just hang out when there is time.
Your probably asking yourself… why is he writing this??? Hasn’t he resolved anything? The answer is yes and no. Please don’t take this essay to be hatin’ on my prior girl, I also act in ways that make it easy for shit to go down. And quite possibly our friendship is over, since at the end of our last conversation I acted very childish. She told me I wasn’t treating her like a friend, that I was treating her badly. I became intensely offended. Over the years I tried so hard to be the guy she wanted but failed, so she broke up with me. I still feel tremendous guilt for failing, and yet the girl who left me is still there yelling at me. I just couldn’t take it. In a cleverly sarcastic, yet childish act I hung up our conversation when she told me I always end the conversations to soon.
What you just read may seem trivial to you, but she takes her virtues seriously. I wasn’t up to par, and it was a serious offense. In an odd way, that’s something I liked about her. She had a lot of virtue, intellect and passion for life.
That could be the last time we talk. A fitting end to something that was more meaningful to me than any other series of events that have taken place in my life. This long-term relationship changed me in ways I could never have imagined.
p.s. I hope we do talk again soon though.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
One Brandon at a Time
Theres a certain feeling my body entertains every time I cut a hard boiled egg. Maybe I get this feeling because i am afraid of sulfer, or maybe its because when i was a young lad my nieghborhood playground could be found besides an egg sanctuary (yes, no typo). No matter my eggs origin of uneasyness, i feel a bit faint.
The Republicans (Pizone) news:
(p1) If i take my hard drive over Lens i get hours of Pizone jams
(p2) I did take my hard drive over lens
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(c) I have hours of Pizone jams
if anyone out there wants to hear what we are working on i have lots of music (mostly rough recordings). I project by next weekend we have a decent recording of all three new songs
Tentatively titled:
Harmonic
Underneath
Jazzy
AND in CASE you DID not KNOW:::::::::bliggidy blogs are blended blantantly
In Brandon news: this weekend was a chico weekend if i ever have had one. Just one big blur filled with beers and bowls. Huge party upstairs, 3 kegs, 2 copular interventions a.k.a. 2 party breakups. I tried something that know man should ever try- i tried to out drink my alcoholic roomate - big mistake. He beat me by 3 beers and i ended the night earlier than i wanted to.
Dave, my x-roomy came down from humbolt with his semi-twin friends travis/jarvis. Not really twins, not even related, but they were both going to humbolt state from fargo north dakota. I had no idea humbolt had such a Fargonian pull, you learn something new everyday.
Something new: Something i need, i'm thinking a bass or a road trip or a tripy bass i can play on the road
The Republicans (Pizone) news:
(p1) If i take my hard drive over Lens i get hours of Pizone jams
(p2) I did take my hard drive over lens
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(c) I have hours of Pizone jams
if anyone out there wants to hear what we are working on i have lots of music (mostly rough recordings). I project by next weekend we have a decent recording of all three new songs
Tentatively titled:
Harmonic
Underneath
Jazzy
AND in CASE you DID not KNOW:::::::::bliggidy blogs are blended blantantly
In Brandon news: this weekend was a chico weekend if i ever have had one. Just one big blur filled with beers and bowls. Huge party upstairs, 3 kegs, 2 copular interventions a.k.a. 2 party breakups. I tried something that know man should ever try- i tried to out drink my alcoholic roomate - big mistake. He beat me by 3 beers and i ended the night earlier than i wanted to.
Dave, my x-roomy came down from humbolt with his semi-twin friends travis/jarvis. Not really twins, not even related, but they were both going to humbolt state from fargo north dakota. I had no idea humbolt had such a Fargonian pull, you learn something new everyday.
Something new: Something i need, i'm thinking a bass or a road trip or a tripy bass i can play on the road
Quick Note
New Layout... eh eh eh, not too shabby, especially for a non-techno-savvy-nerd like me.
I can explain why there has been a shortage of posts;
I'm sure you can explain why the sun comes up everyday
conclusion: Had many problems posting in the old version, but now i have beta (easier blog prog) so there will be more posts coming shortly. Including, but not limited to:
information about the band and this last crazy weekend
I can explain why there has been a shortage of posts;
I'm sure you can explain why the sun comes up everyday
conclusion: Had many problems posting in the old version, but now i have beta (easier blog prog) so there will be more posts coming shortly. Including, but not limited to:
information about the band and this last crazy weekend
Thursday, October 12, 2006
(ii) I'm in a constant state of P
| to believe in the title will be called f; therefore, to believe that f one must hold the belief that i am in a constant state of p. | ||
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Better People Living Bigger Days
Yesterday was a big day, a day bigger than the day before, because i found a way to add minutes to the day and i added three minutes. I can't talk about how i did it on fear that the snow goblins who told me will pierce my ears with a Soldering iron. But anyway, all those people who woke up today and felt well rested, you can thank me, the snow goblins and those extra three minutes I added.
On a more serious note: E#
Thank you thank you
p.s. I went to an Oakland athletics game yesterday. This made the day bigger because A) The A’s Rock….. GI) The A’s Rock Hard J) Game one of the pennant (the American League Championship).
I love baseball like I love sex, even the bad stuff is good (I know I know, Total cop out line, but it worked, give me that much) Why did that last line work exactly, well… the A’s lost and there was the most annoying Tigers fan behind me until about the 7th inning.
At the beginning of the national anthem he made the remark that "some people don’t respect the country." This Mothafuckin Dildoe licking Tigers Fan was referring to the status of my hat being on top of my head during the song. However ill-faded his remark was, no matter how ill concocted, because I answered back with "I’m not even going to dignify that with a response after this non-responsive response."
Why did I just say that, well I should dignify my readers with a reason, albeit it seems obvious to me. But choosing to respect an institution this country was founded upon (a symbol as American as a hat off during our song) is a hypocritical action. It is my own personal right to my own patriocity. I respect the country with my hat on. Taking my hat off is a simple action, but it makes me complicit in an action I don’t believe in. If I respected the way the country is going right now I would take my hat off, but I don’t. In fact, to respect our country in that way is as unpatriotic as borscht soup. My personal integrity compels me to leave my hat on in an act of my own personal patriotism. Taking your hat off is a bullshit act if you don’t believe in it. Granted the Detroit fan might actually be patriotic if he can justify his action (although in the present, justification seems nearly impossible), but I can’t for myself.
p.p.s. Last night Brian and I looked up at the sky and noticed a big vagina formed in the stars, and thought we were better people for seeing it.
On a more serious note: E#
Thank you thank you
p.s. I went to an Oakland athletics game yesterday. This made the day bigger because A) The A’s Rock….. GI) The A’s Rock Hard J) Game one of the pennant (the American League Championship).
I love baseball like I love sex, even the bad stuff is good (I know I know, Total cop out line, but it worked, give me that much) Why did that last line work exactly, well… the A’s lost and there was the most annoying Tigers fan behind me until about the 7th inning.
At the beginning of the national anthem he made the remark that "some people don’t respect the country." This Mothafuckin Dildoe licking Tigers Fan was referring to the status of my hat being on top of my head during the song. However ill-faded his remark was, no matter how ill concocted, because I answered back with "I’m not even going to dignify that with a response after this non-responsive response."
Why did I just say that, well I should dignify my readers with a reason, albeit it seems obvious to me. But choosing to respect an institution this country was founded upon (a symbol as American as a hat off during our song) is a hypocritical action. It is my own personal right to my own patriocity. I respect the country with my hat on. Taking my hat off is a simple action, but it makes me complicit in an action I don’t believe in. If I respected the way the country is going right now I would take my hat off, but I don’t. In fact, to respect our country in that way is as unpatriotic as borscht soup. My personal integrity compels me to leave my hat on in an act of my own personal patriotism. Taking your hat off is a bullshit act if you don’t believe in it. Granted the Detroit fan might actually be patriotic if he can justify his action (although in the present, justification seems nearly impossible), but I can’t for myself.
p.p.s. Last night Brian and I looked up at the sky and noticed a big vagina formed in the stars, and thought we were better people for seeing it.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
In Case You were Wondering...
I am leaving town today in a quest for the holy grail, and by guest i mean taking a bus/train/bart and by holy grail i mean oakland athletics in the playoffs BITCH!
ill write on this after the game sucka fresh
ill write on this after the game sucka fresh
Monday, October 09, 2006
Exact Purpose
What if a forklift lifted up a box of forks?
I'm not sure what a blog is, i am sure there are many other people who don't know what a blog is, i am also sure that some of the people who don't know what a blog is also create and own (a) blog(s)
if the forklift lifts spoons it functions like a blogger devoit of the true meaning of blog
I'm not sure what a blog is, i am sure there are many other people who don't know what a blog is, i am also sure that some of the people who don't know what a blog is also create and own (a) blog(s)
if the forklift lifts spoons it functions like a blogger devoit of the true meaning of blog
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