Thoughts on Love (And Tacos)

It seems to me that "Love" has been thoroughly muddled as a concept in modern society. These days, "love" is now a half-physical, half-emotional sensation that one seeks to satiate the way a pile of tacos would satiate hunger pains. Now, granted, I do love me some good tacos, but the way I just used the word "love" hasn't a thing to do with what the word really means.

If we take the physicality (sex) out of what love has come to mean, and then take the often-deceptive emotional aspect (romance) out as well, we're left with "unselfish actions done for other people." By that definition, giving a homeless guy tacos (a recurring theme in this post is how much I love tacos) is an act of love. It's not a thing of sex, nor is it a thing of romance, but it is undeniably an act of love. And tacos.

I wonder what would happen in modern society if we stopped using the emotional/physical concept of modern "love" when it came to starting a relationship, and started basing our relationships of the concept of "acts of love"? What would that look like? What would it mean in practice?

This is just my opinion, but I believe that the most basic act of love, the act that all other acts of love should build upon, is prayer. If one can't be bothered to go before God on behalf of another person, does it really matter if one buys them tacos? Prayer should be the very foundation of every other thing we do for another person, and if there's an easier or more basic loving action that one person can do for another, I've not heard of it. It's easy to focus on big things, but it's really the smallest acts that matter the most.

There's a girl out there, and I don't even know where she is these days, who stole a small piece of my heart a few years ago. She didn't ask if she could take it, and to be honest, I don't know if I want her to give it back or if I want to give her the rest of it. She stole it by being gracious and forgiving and kind when she didn't really have any reason to be and when few other people were. By her loving acts, she stole a small piece of my heart, and that small piece of my heart loves her to this day.

I've never even given her a hug, so I know my love for her isn't a thing of physicality. Nor do I spend much time daydreaming about her, I long ago realized that daydreaming about girls is a dangerous thing, and even more dangerous when they're attractive. Pretty girls are a lethal danger in this world. So whenever this girl pops into my mind to remind me she's got a piece of my heart, I take the time to pray for her.

It's all I can do. I can't go on a walk with her and buy her tacos (I don't know what town she's in), and I'm not sure that I should pursue her as a future wife anyways. I try to avoid building up a huge amount of emotion for her, I know that in all likelihood, I won't even see her again. I do know, however, that the stupid little piece of my heart that she took loves her, and the only way I can express that is to pray for her whenever I think about her.

So she's one of the line items in my list of people to pray for when I pray in the morning, not that I'll say that I actually go through that list daily. I don't know that I'll ever ask her out, I don't know if I even should, but I do know that if she ever asks how I feel about her, if God ever sends her my way, I can honestly say that I have regularly prayed for her for years. 

I love her, and it's expressed as an action, not as emotion or as physicality. I think it's better this way. It's not about what I get out of it, it's about going before God and saying "I don't know why I care for her, but I do, so please take care of her. Help her through life, keep her safe, and give her a hug." Because that, not tacos, not a wedding ring, not sex and not romance, is the most loving thing I know of.

Maybe someday God will bring her back to my life and I can buy her tacos. Maybe I'll wake up next week and not even remember her name. I suppose it doesn't matter, really. 

Love isn't about me, it's about other people and doing things for them. There are people in my prayer list that are there simply because they treated me like shit and if I can't forget them, I would rather pray for them than hate them. God has called us to love our enemies, and if prayer is the most basic act of love when it comes to pretty girls, it's probably the most basic act of love when it comes to my enemies as well.

Although granted, I'm a lot more eager to buy her tacos than I am to buy them tacos.

Tacos rule.

Undo.

"Let me ask you a question: Before you left, several people told you that you weren't going to make it at That School. Do you think they were right?"

It's not a simple answer.

Those "several people" included members of my blood family, and my pastor. You know, the sort of people anyone would want to be supportive when making a major life change. Instead, I was told that I wouldn't be able to hack it academically, and/or would get thrown out of the school.

I don't think I can properly describe the impact that had on me. Instead of going off to college feeling like my family was behind me, like they believed in me, like they wanted me to succeed, I left for college a seething ball of rage. All the people that should have standing behind me had apparently abandoned me.

So when I got to that school, I got there with a massive chip on my shoulder. I was there because I believed God was leading me into mission aviation, and I still do, but I was full of rage, hurt, mistrust and insecurity, and everything and everyone that threatened that goal got hammered. Hard. I'm not known for subtlety or pulling punches, and I was at my worst there.

So back to that question, were they right?

Well, the term "Self-fulfilling prophecy" comes to mind. While I do believe that the people who said those things meant well, the effect was that their words caused so much damage in my life that there was no way I would have finished a degree there. I had reacted to the statements the only way I knew how, and being angrier and working harder only has two possible outcomes if things get pushed far enough.

And they got pushed far enough, believe me.

"I'm sorry" the person said. The person hadn't meant to cause harm, but had. Grievous. Worse than the person could have imagined. Trust was lost, friendship had been replaced by bitterness, family had disappeared under cynicism, and over three years later, some of the wounds are still raw.

"I'm sorry" does nothing. Their sorrow fixes nothing. There is no possible way for anyone to apologize for their comments enough to make up for what I went through, because the universe simply doesn't have an "undo" button. It doesn't matter how many times they apologize, there is no way that anyone can go back in time to unfuck things up.

They can't rewind the night I had to spend in a homeless shelter because I had no where to stay. They can't unspend the money I had to spend just to make sure I didn't leave the town with a legal record. They can't erase the time I spent in a psychiatric ward, or repair the destruction of multiple friendships. They can't undo the anger, they can't make me unfeel the pain.

"I'm sorry" is a worthless statement. It's pathetic. Someone's sorrow does absolutely nothing to fix the damage they've done. Time flows in ONE direction, and it doesn't change just because some pathetic human feels bad about something they did, even if they didn't mean to. It won't even change just because someone tries to "make it up" to the person they hurt.

I suppose I could end this post here. A cohesive point has been made, "I'm sorry fixes nothing, and nothing can undo the past."

But that's not where this post ends. That's just a cynical tumblr-tier rant about pain, frustration, and loss, it barely qualifies as philosophical. It certainly doesn't answer any questions, which to me defies the very purpose of writing.

The real answer to pain, the only way to actually fix anything is to forgive people. That's actually worth writing about.

The people who I *could* blame for what they said three years ago, if I wanted to, need to be forgiven. Not because they deserve it, they don't. Not because forgiveness will magically rewind time and allow everything to be OK like it could have been, it won't. Not because they've made it up to me, they haven't and can't.

No, I need to forgive them because forgiveness is the only thing that allows raw wounds to heal up. It's the only way for the pain to stop and for healing to start. Nothing will ever heal perfectly, and even old scars can be gouged open again, but without forgiveness, all we have is a world full of people full of open wounds. No healing, no fading scars that don't hurt anymore, just pain.

I don't know about you, but that's not an appealing thought. I'd rather move on as best I can than to remain stuck in the past, thoughts stuck on the same old wounds, the same old pains, the same old people. No, things will never be perfect, and the damage we do to each other's lives can never actually be made right.

So my advice is to not worry about who's sorry and who isn't. Don't wait for the other person to repent, and don't demand they do the impossible and make it up to you. Just forgive them, which is a process, not an event. Make peace, if possible restore the relationship, but above all, forgive them and move on.

That Anarchy Post

When discussing a philosophical, political, or religious viewpoint, it helps to start with a precise definition of what certain terms mean. Especially, perhaps, when discussing Anarchism, because after 40 years of punk rock, angry kids, and tyrants misusing the term, "Anarchy" has been redefined as "burning cop cars, doing drugs, and wearing black clothing."

According to dictionary.com:

noun

1.

a doctrine urging the abolition of government or governmental restraint as the indispensable condition for full social and political liberty.

Etymologically, it comes from the Greek "anarchos", which is a combination of "an-" meaning "no", and "archos" meaning "ruler".

There is nothing in the basic definition of "anarchy" that promotes violence, chaos, or even being an asshole. So bear that in mind as I proceed from here. It's also worth pointing out that there are many, many, MANY different ways of having an anarchist society that have been promoted over the years, and I'm not even trying to encompass all of them, it is simply the only common term that comes close to encompassing my political views.

It should also be stated, at the beginning of this post, that anarchism as a political ideal is not the same thing as having anarchy as a daily lifestyle. This post is about the political ideal, and reality is just a bitch. America was founded as a Republic, that doesn't make it a Republic, nor does it make "A republic" a perfect system. Same with Democracy, and in this case anarchism. I'm an anarchist because that is the political ideal I believe in most (*right now, which is subject to change in the future), not because I think it's perfect.

At it's most basic, a society (be it a nation, a tribe, or whatever) is a group of people who come together for the common benefit. It makes a lot more sense to work together to raise crops and fight off wolves than it does for everyone to work on their own, because someone needs to be up at night to keep watch, and someone needs to work during the day. Cooperation is a good thing, obviously.

I'm also a Christian. This means that on a basic level, I don't believe in aggression (Romans 12:18, Matthew 5:39). I do believe that the Bible teaches that self-defense is a basic human right and that extends to defending others (Nehemiah 4:17-18) and even to capital punishment (Genesis 9:6), but aggression without just cause is a vile thing. Those who start wars without just cause (even if it's just "limited airstrikes with no boots on the ground") are guilty of murder.

In 1 Samuel 8, the Israelites ask God for a king so that they can be like other nations. They want a warrior, a man who will go out and fight their battles for them. God warns them that the reverse will happen, and that wanting a king is a rejection of God, and God's place as the sole ruler of the nation. They choose to disregard the warning, and Saul, the first Israelite king, is a disaster by any standard. David, who followed, was not exactly a good man, and had a loyal general murdered because he'd knocked up the general's wife.

Israel's government before Saul could be best described as a kritarchy with occasional incidents of theocracy. The Israelites were left to do as they saw fit, with disputes mediated by judges, as long as they generally followed God and weren't being invaded at the moment. It's the only part in the entire Bible where God weighs in on a specific form of gov't, and it's explicitly anti-State. It says "Follow God, and do not desire any other ruler."

Having no earthly ruler sounds like anarchism to me. Going through life with nobody telling me what to do, only God, and the only people I need to submit to are the judges, and that only comes up when there's a dispute with a neighbor? With the only law being God's law, not an endless-changing list of man-made rules and regulations?

An-archos. No rulers...sounds pretty similar.

Of course, Romans 13 tells me to obey the rulers that do exist. Which doesn't sound at all like an anarchist statement, so how do the two reconcile?

Basically, it's a question of realism versus idealism. 1 Samuel 8 is the ideal. Just follow God's Law, put God first in my life, and there won't be a need for a string of loser kings (and most of Israel's kings were bad). The reality is that kings do exist, though, so even though it's not the ideal that God had in mind, we should obey them out of respect for God. Notice that Romans 13 doesn't say "Obey the king because he's right." or "Obey him because his father was a good man.", it says "Obey the king because God put him there."

The reality is that because people screw up, leaders, rulers, and law-makers are something we're stuck with, but it's not the ideal that God had in mind for us.

"Really?" You ask.

Sure. Look at it this way:

In the Garden of Eden, what system of government did God institute? Kings? Presidents? Communism? How about none of the above, just a single commandment to not eat the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Adam and Eve had absolutely no other obligations, regulations, rules, laws, or even social customs to follow.

In fact, it was their adding to God's laws that messed them up. Notice how in Gen 3:3 Eve says "...and you must not touch it, or you will surely die" while in Genesis 2:17 God only said that they cannot eat the fruit. Had Adam and Eve not added to God's laws, the serpent would not have been able to cast doubt on what God said. In the additional laws there was room for doubt and confusion.

But Adam and Eve did eat, and were cast out. Skip forward a few chapters, The Flood happens, and God gives Noah ONE law. In Genesis 9:6, again there is no system of government established, no endless codex of prescriptive laws to follow, just a commandment that murderers are to be put to death.

Even after the Torah was given to Moses and a full system of laws was established, the only system of government was "Follow God and the Law", there wasn't a king who had absolute power. The judges had absolute power, but were only raised up in time of need, not during peacetime, as it were, and they did not add to the laws.

Had God actually wanted a certain system of government, it does not make sense that He would not have instituted that and made it clear, but at no point in the Bible is there any such thing.

Instead the repeated commandment is to love our neighbors, which is referred to by Jesus as the second-greatest commandment, the first being to love God. So let's examine what that would look like, if everyone was totally committed to keeping those two.

First off, if everyone loved their neighbors, poverty is gone. Period. Instead of some guy being homeless and starving, his neighbors would take care of him, help him find a job and a place to stay, and get him back on his feet. In a loving manner, not just flicking a nickel at him as they drive past.

Second, if everyone loved their neighbors, crime would largely be a thing of the past. Murder isn't love, neither is rape, theft, or any of a thousand other things that we have laws against. The need for cops would be over.

Third, it would be the END OF WAR. While there would always be a need for weapons in case a neighboring country got hostile, the days of punitive bombing of countries thousands of miles away would be gone.

Now, granted, this ideal system also has as a basic requirement that everyone loves God. That means it's predicated on everyone being a Christian, which sadly will never happen. Ultimately it is just an ideal system, and not a realistic system.

On the other hand, a cursory glance through history has seen EVERY system of government yet devised fail as well. They are all idealistic, because the simple reality is that people are corrupt and selfish, and placing people in power only amplifies corruption and selfishness. Kings become tyrants, voters become leeches, and anarchist burn cop cars.

I'm not saying that anarchism is perfect, but I am saying that if we all really follow God's commandments, we'll remove any need that exists for rulers. The result of everyone following God's commandments would be a peaceful, lawful, healthy society that didn't need cops, courts, or rulers. Everyone would be left alone to do as they saw fit, with no one who would threaten to jail or kill them if they didn't play whatever games the government is playing that day.

If the two greatest commandments, according to Christ Himself, are followed, government becomes superfluous, and for that reason, I consider myself an anarchist.

Four in Four

I just got an email that says I have a job waiting for me, pending some paperwork, in Rockford, IL. I'll be working on regional jets, doing maintenance, which is a huge opportunity for a guy who is trying to break out of the single-engine and light-twin rut that comes with being a fresh A&P that hasn't had much experience. The A&P world is measured in years of experience on specific aircraft, not grades (mine were good) or ability or even years of experience in general.

So don't get me wrong, it's a good job. 

But it also means moving to another new city, another new state, making a new list of friends at another new church. It means, once again, going somewhere new and starting all over again. Rockford will be the fourth city I've lived in four years, and IL will be the fourth state at the same time. 

And Illinois, well, it's not exactly a friendly place for practitioners of the shooting arts. "Felony Possession of Ammunition" is actually a thing there, I'll have to clean my car just to make sure that a spare and lost .22LR round doesn't land me in prison. Taking my rifles is out of the question, and I can't even take just my reloading gear to make ammo in my spare time.
 

It's just not a particularly fun thing to look forward to. I'm not real quick at making good friends, and this job is only a contract gig, so I'll be there for six months, at which point I'll almost certainly move again. It will be a very great challenge to reach out to folks and make connections, knowing that not only will I leave at some point, but I'll be gone by Summer.

I was told at Orientation that I'm too independent and too strong-willed, and need to work on getting along with others in order to be a good missionary. It seems that the events of the past few years of my life have made me a certain kind of person, and I'm not sure if that was something that I could have avoided if I even wanted to.

I mean, you don't learn to work well with authority when you get thrown out of a school for getting sick and making someone several thousand miles away suspicious that you may do something.

You don't learn to depend on other people when you have to move 700 miles past everyone you've ever met to live with strangers, especially when those strangers turn out to be insane.

You don't learn to be (whatever the "good" opposite of strong-willed is) when a hard life forces you to buckle down and keep going no matter how much you want to find a safe place and hide in it until the storm passes.

I'm not worried about surviving in Rockford, I'm a tough, independent, and strong-willed man that will do whatever it takes to survive. However, I'm worried that by the time I'm done being a nomad and can finally return to HQ for my technical evaluation, I'll have only become more strong-willed, more independent, and tougher. And I'm not even sure why those are bad things.

BUT...

The way to live life is to do what needs to be done now, now, and worry about tomorrow's problems later. Right now I need a job, and this is a job. It's not ideal, but nothing is, and nothing ever will be.

Holy unBlack Metal

I'm sitting in the maintenance office of the MAF hangar in Maseru, Lesotho. There's no work for me to do, so I'm listening to Frost Like Ashes on YouTube. They're an unBlack metal outfit from St. Louis, if I remember correctly, and the current song "Adorers of Blood" is a wonderful praise song in the style of Black Metal. Before "Adorers of Blood", I listened to "Hardest Rocking God of All Time" by Grave Declaration, another unBlack metal outfit.

If anyone asks what I'm listening to, I'll downplay and dodge the question. I certainly won't try to explain unBlack Metal to a group of missionaries that thinks David Crowder is the hardest rock allowed at work. There's just no way to understand unBlack Metal without understanding Black Metal, and Black Metal is something I just don't talk about with strangers. Well, not unless I want to scare them off and make them think I'm Varg Vikernes' biggest fan, anyways.

There isn't a genre of music that's created more controversy than Black Metal. People think pop music sets the standard for shocking and bizarre behavior, but nothing ever done by a pop star has come close to the things done by black metal musicians. Lady Gaga and Madonna subverted Catholic imagery for their music, black metal musicians (and their fans) burnt churches down. Gangsta rappers boast about killing their rivals, black metal musicians have actually done it. There's no compromise in black metal, it's explicitly pagan. Explicity anti-Christian.

Black Metal isn't simply a genre that one listens to. Black Metal, in it's original form, is a lifestyle. The first wave of black metal didn't simply show up on the charts, it announced itself with a multi-year spate of murders, suicides, and church burnings. It's ideological music in the purest sense.

The fact that most people have never heard of Black Metal is simply due to the relative obscurity of the genre, as it's a tiny and extremist fringe inside the perpetually fringe world of heavy metal, but the fact remains that black metal is the razor's edge of music. It's way past "this album sounds too processed"  is a criticism and into a world where "(this album) is the aural equivalent of having your throat slit in one smooth motion" becomes normal. It's not "easy listening". It's not "soothing white noise".

When it comes to Christians listening to music, if there's any one genre of music that we were probably supposed to avoid, that we should have left alone, it would be black metal. It is hands-down the most vile, sick, and evil genre of music ever created. So, naturally, Christianity invaded it in the early 1990s, because we will allow no pit of darkness to remain unlit.

Black metal has always been about the message. And not in the cheeky way that Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin played around with dark imagery, but in an explicit way, where the message in the lyrics was played out onstage, and in the lives of the band members themselves. UnBlack Metal retains the look (minus the sacrificed animals and most of the blood), the sound, and the intense, message-first lyrics, but has swapped out the lyrics for Christian ones. 

Personally, that makes it just about perfect to me, because I'm sick and tired of ever-fancier versions of "Jesus Loves Me" that somehow still manage to be repetitive, technically simple, and theologically empty. Yes, Jesus loves us, but that's a small portion of what Christianity is about, and I want music that reminds me that to be a Christian is to be at war with Darkness.

There's a hell of a lot more to fighting that war than just remembering that Jesus loves us. Let's go kick some ass.

HAIL CHRIST!

Frodo Lives

So here I am, in the mountains of Lesotho a couple hundred kilometers from where Tolkien was born. I'm here as an MAF maintenance intern, and it happens to be just coming into the rainy season, which means the mountains are covered with soft, puffy clouds.

I wouldn't say my internship has gone well, objectively speaking. I screwed up in Orientation, buckled down and aced the second chance I got, only for a bunch of durkas to screw that up by causing a ruckus and forcing the program I was supposed to work with to evacuate the house I was supposed to live in for fear of being mortared.

It's the latest portion of a quest that's included spending nights in a psychiatric ward, a night in a homeless shelter by necessity, and calling a friend at 2330 because I got thrown out of the place I was living. I've been penniless and have had to choose between buying tools for school and food (I chose tools). I've had to choose between ever seeing people I loved again and staying healthy (I chose staying healthy). I've had to drive 1500 miles past home to live with strangers because my family wasn't willing to let me come home (I've never asked why).

I've endured all of this because I believe God has directed me towards entering mission aviation. I knew in advance that it would be hard, it's just a different kind of hard than I was expecting.

I'm at this point where I could get home from this internship and walk away from the entire quest. Nobody would fault a man for saying "You know what? I sacrificed a hell of a lot to get there, and it didn't go very well. I'm going home."

But on the other hand, Frodo.

Frodo got stabbed at Weathertop just trying to take the Ring to Rivendell. His quest, at that point, involved being chased by Ringwraiths out of his happy little life, traveling far beyond anything he'd ever known, and then it involved getting stabbed and nearly dying from the wound.

Nobody would have faulted him for saying "You know what? I brought the Ring to Rivendell, got stabbed in the process, and people much more suited for the task can do the rest. I'm going home."

But...that's now how the story of Frodo ends. He didn't call it a day, he didn't choose to place his own happiness and well-being ahead of the necessity of the day, he instead volunteered to go all the way to Mount Doom and finish the job. He didn't even know how to get there, but he still volunteered.

By the end of it, he'd seen friends die. He'd endured being separated from all but one of his friends, nearly murdered by an ally, poisoned and nearly eaten by a giant spider, and had his finger bitten off. And he had to fight, run, and hide from overwhelming enemy forces the entire time.

There are thousands and millions and billions of people who, at the end of the day, do whatever it is that they think will make them healthy and happy. If something should arise that they don't want to do, they do anything they can to pass the job off to anyone who will do it, no matter how poorly.

I'm sure, that at some point, Frodo wished that the Ring had never come into his life. That the entire thing had been handled by someone else, and that he could have spend the rest of his life in Hobbiton. But when it came down to it, Frodo stepped up to the situation at hand, and put his dreams and desires and well-being second to what needed to be done.

I'm with Frodo.

I'm sure there are people in this world who would make better missionaries than I will, but that doesn't change the situation. The task has been set before me, and I will see it done, even though I don't know the way.

To Mordor if need be, to Mortarville if at all possible, but no matter where this journey ends, I'm with Frodo.

A Cacophony of Sex

I have a confession to make, and coming from a guy that loves Holy unBlack Metal, this is one hell of a confession:

I don't hate Miley Cyrus' song "Wrecking Ball." I kinda like it.

But there's a story attached to this that brought up some interesting thoughts:

I don't think it's possible for a modern netizen to be unaware that Ms. Cyrus has a new video for her song "Wrecking Ball" that's risque. There's some nakedness, some tools, it's basically porn. I haven't bothered to look up the video and watch the whole thing, I saw a bit of it while I was waiting for a pizza at a mall here in Maseru, and decided that it probably isn't good for me to see the whole thing. I'm not going to link it.

At that point, I hadn't actually heard the song, as far as I know. I don't listen to pop music when I can help it, and the radio station at work is normally set to a classic-pop station out of Mozambique, so I only rarely hear the new stuff.

So a couple weeks later, with the batteries on my MP3 player dead, I'm listening to the work radio and I hear this song on the radio. My ears perk up because it's well-sung and seems soulful compared to the usual variations on the theme of lust that come over the airwaves. The singer sounds like she's sorry that she screwed up a relationship and hurt the guy, but is slightly defiant in that she gave it her all.

The line "I never meant to start a war" intrigued me, so after the second or third time I heard the song, I made a mental note to google the lyrics when I got home.

Turns out, that song is "Wrecking Ball'.

Simply looking at the lyrics, some girl decided to insert herself into a guy's life, it went badly, and though she tried to save it, it fell apart. Simple enough, and the way it's sung makes it somewhat sorrowful, but perhaps not repentant. It would not appear, lyrically speaking, that "wrecking ball" would be by any stretch a complimentary term. No, instead the girl's a wrecking ball, and is sorry that she wrecked something.

But pop music being what it is, new pop singles must have a video to accomany them, otherwise...well, who knows. I don't know the business, and I'm fairly certain I don't want to understand how pop music works.

So a video was filmed, and in part of it Ms. Cyrus is sitting on a wrecking ball naked, and then a little later she's licking a sledgehammer, and that's all I want to know.

The problem, from the perspective of a philosopher who pays attention to such things, is that the song's message does not match the video's message. While the song that's dubbed over the video (nobody actually sings these days) talks about how the girl screwed up and damaged everything, the singer is portrayed as an hyper-sexualized wrecking ball who glorifies her destruction of the building that represented the boy or the relationship, I'm not sure which.

So which is the real message? Admitting that she screwed up and didn't mean to start a war, or sexually reveling in the destruction she caused?

There's a word for music in which parts clash with each other: Cacophony. It's the antithesis of "Symphony", in which all the parts work together.

I don't know, and perhaps I don't want to know, what exactly is going on with Ms. Cyrus. I don't generally follow celebrities, nor do I have a particular taste for pop music, so all I know is that she used to be a fairly decent girl, and is now a slow-motion train wreck. From what I can tell, society is waiting for her to crash and burn so that we can mourn the loss of her talent instead of trying to save her before that happens.

What I do know is that there's something very wrong with society when it's perfectly acceptable to accompany a sad song about a relationship gone bad with a video that glorifies and sexualizes the destruction of that relationship. I mean, I've seen an outcry from the usual "we're DOOOOOOOOOOMED" crowd that thinks (falsely) that we're the most decadent civilization in history, but what bothers me isn't the decadence, it's the discord between the lyrics and the video.

Have we really fallen so far as a intellectual society that nobody bothers to understand the message anymore, and focuses instead on the sounds and the visuals? Because to me, that's exactly like focusing on what's on the cover of the book and not even bothering to open it to understand the message.

Folks, if that's what we're doing as a society, we're doomed.

DOOOOOOOOMED!

Dissecting Depression

"How're you doing?" my boss asked.
"Surviving." I replied.
"Just surviving?"

"Surviving" means a lot to me. What I went through in Spokane nearly killed me. There, I was struggling with depression so dark and deep that I couldn't eat. Couldn't get off the couch. There, emotional pain translated to the physical world and took me off my feet. That wasn't "surviving", it was walking numbly through life as I shut down piece by piece in response to overwhelming misery. It was dying, another week or two and I might have eaten a bullet. It wasn't impossible, even though I hate the idea of suicide.

I'm struggling in my internship, to be sure. From what I had reasonable expectations of when I first walked through HQ's doors three months ago, everything got FUBAR'd. I had applied for, been interviewed for, been medically cleared for, raised funds for (3/4 of which came from me working two jobs), gotten a VISA for, and had plane tickets for a certain internship. And it was something that I was, that I am, very passionate about. 

Instead, everything went sideways. I'm on the wrong continent. I'm working on the wrong airplanes (Cessna 206s instead of King Airs and Quest Kodiaks). It took something of an argument with my supervisor to even be allowed to do as much as I am doing, since interns normally do a couple weeks of bitch work around the shop and then go home, they don't spend two months doing engine overhauls and airframe inspections. And even then, I'm not learning anything new, nor am I allowed to do as much as I have been trained on, since the Organization's regs are strict about mechanics who haven't gone through Standardization.

From the reasonable expectations I had (spend 3 months in a certain country, working on certain aircraft, etc.), absolutely nothing has come to be. That's disappointing, as one might expect. 

And the process of me getting here wasn't exactly pleasant, to say the least.

So even just the internship has been a struggle.

But it's stacked on top of being homesick for a home that doesn't exist. Odds are pretty high that I won't get a job in Nampa or Tulsa, the two towns that are the most like "home." I don't have a job to return to, so I will have to travel to wherever I can find work. Which I don't mind in and of itself, but when I'm struggling here, I wish I could look forward to returning home, not being at a pseudo-home for a few days then spending two days on the road.

And I'm broke, too. I'd saved up some money for the post-trip expenses, but then I had to buy health insurance, and then I got laid off from my primary job a week early, and then I had to buy a new fuel pump for my car. Came out to over a grand that I don't have now between the three. Life is what it is.

Those are situations. Bad situations can make anyone depressed, it's the nature of being human. People get bummed out when they lose their jobs, when the car breaks down, when things just don't go their way. It's part of human nature. 

I'm also manic-depressive, though, and so I'll be struggling when I'm making A's in school, my after-school job is going well, and I've got friends that love me and whom I can talk to when I'm down. It's part of who I am, that I deal with clinical depression for a good chunk of the year.

Then there's the existential questions. I've taken on faith, over my logical objections, that God is calling me into missions. I said three and half years ago that I'm not the guy for the job, and I still don't believe that I'm the guy, but I also believe God is calling, and God doesn't make mistakes.

But I could be wrong. It's happened before. So the fact that everything has gone sideways on this internship brings up very real doubts that I was ever right about being called into missions. Doubt is cancer, and it eats at my faith that this is where I should be, that this is what I should be doing with my life, that what I believe is real is real.

So as I'm struggling with everything that brought me to Maseru, as I'm struggling to keep moving forward, the real question becomes "Where does one stop, and the next one start?"

What is simply situational depression, that needs to be ignored and answered with Faith that God has a plan beyond this? What is clinical depression or mania, and needs to be addressed medically? What is the Abyss of existential despair, trying to swallow me whole?

Where does one stop and the next one start?

I'm surviving, and while that doesn't mean thriving, it also means that I'm not slowly shutting down, I'm not moodily lashing out at everyone, and I'm not emotionally numb and just waiting for the end of the trip. This sort of thing doesn't concern me for the short term, and I'm not entirely sure if it really concerns me for the long term.

This, by my standards of life as a manic-depressive person, does not qualify as unhealthy. I worry about mania when I can't sleep, can't sit still, and get frustrated with how laid-back everyone else is. I worry about depression when I can't get out of bed, when I can't keep moving through the day, and when I start shutting down.

This, what I'm dealing with now, isn't me being unhealthy. It's simply part of life as a manic-depressive.

However, if I want to make missions a long-term thing, and I *do*, then I need to find a better way of staying healthy. In Tulsa and Nampa, I lean pretty heavily on my friends when I'm down, and I'm very active when I'm up, those combined with proper meds help me stay functional.

Here in Maseru, I don't really have the support network I had back home. It takes months to develop that, I'm only here for sixty days total. That's hardly time to develop a support network out of a group of guys who are all married and all have kids. They don't have free time, which means there's not a lot of free time that I can borrow to just have men to talk to.

Also, I can't be nearly as active, because I'm in a foreign country, and there are rules in place here for security reasons. I can't hit the range on a Saturday, I had to leave my rifles in Idaho. I get a lot of exercise, but I have to be back by nightfall, so I can't go backpacking or go walking until I've talked with God about my day and am at peace with it. And with very limited internet, I can't really hide in music and talk with my friends online.

While I was in the ward in Spokane, they talked about having multiple layers of safety nets to avoid coming back to the ward. Take the meds AND develop a safety net of friends to talk with AND develop a comforting place to go for alone time, etc.

I don't have most of that here, and I *MUST* find a way to change that if I want to do this long-term. I need to get better at developing support networks. I need to find a way to have a comfort place (my bedroom normally works great, but this one has ants that seem to be immune to the local ant-killer spray) when the city itself is off-limits after 1845.

(I'd say I should find a wife, but that becomes a frustrating and depressing subject without any help from the rest of my struggles in life.)

I'm surviving here, and that says a lot, but I need to be able to thrive in adverse situations, not simply survive.

That said, I'm not losing the struggle, and that's important to keep in mind.

When In Doubt, Attack!

I've heard the phrase "When in doubt, attack" attributed to the US Army Special Forces as one of their SOPs. Apparently, they train themselves to default to attacking the enemy when they're unsure of what do to, because that way, there's never a doubt about what the other guys in the team are going to do, nor will they ever accidentally break at the first sign of the enemy.

I could be wrong, of course, about whether or not the Special Forces actually operate this way as I know very little about how they do anything. I'm not sure that it's a particularly good idea for a 8-man team to always attack, but perhaps with their level of training, they're able to win firefights that most soldiers would lose, and their team leaders would know when to break contact.

SF: Supremely cool, but not the focus of this article.

What is the focus of this post is the concept of defaulting to attacking when confused. It's about moving forward when the path is uncertain, about not retreating just because you have no idea what is going on.

A couple months ago, I went on a field trip to a Muslim cultural center (AKA a mosque that wants to get around city zoning ordnances) and a Hare Krishna shrine. I went because it was part of orientation with a missions organization, and it was meant to get us some cross-cultural exposure.

As it happened I got the worst case of the heebie-jeebies I've ever gotten in my entire life. I've been less creeped out by haunted houses and scary movies. I literally felt unclean, like I'd been covered in motor oil and needed a shower, only worse and in a sinister manner (I'm a mechanic, motor oil doesn't bother me much). So in each case, as soon as I got the chance to do so without being socially offensive, I walked outside and sat down across the street.

If one thinks rationally about it, to a Christian, a shrine to a different religion is in effect a shrine to false gods, and at best can be considered blasphemous to God, and at worst (also in reality) is a shrine to evil. It's not simply false, it's actively anti-God, anti-Christian. So I don't mind that I felt unclean, that being inside those shrines to evil made me want to get out, immediately.

The organization I'm with didn't take that as a good sign. For reasons I don't actually understand, I was told that they thought it was a bad thing that I got creeped out. I was asked, several times, if perhaps I should forgo my internship and not go into missions after all.

I can't think of one bad experience as a particularly good reason to not move forward, so even though I was in doubt, I moved forward with the internship. After all, when in doubt, attack. And while very little of my internship has worked as it should, and in fact has gone mostly wrong, I'm still moving forward as long as I'm unsure of what to do. I'd rather wait for a clear sign to break contact than to wait for a clear sign to move forward.

See, combat's a simple thing, really: If the enemy retreats every time he's not sure what to do, then all I have to do to win is to keep him off his footing. Defense becomes a simple matter, because the enemy will break and run at the first opportunity. I won't need to actually defeat or destroy the enemy, I just need to keep his head down and wait for him to break.

If, however, every time he gets shot at he charges, if every time he's confused he moves forward, if every time he's scared he tries to kill me, if every time he's struggling he gets more pissed off at me, then I have a very serious problem. I can't rely on scaring him off, I need to kill him, immediately, otherwise he is going to waste me in short order.

Time and again, the Christian life is described as spiritual warfare. We're supposed to bring light to darkness, to cast out demons, to heal the sick, and to spread the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It is describe quite literally as a war against Satan, and small wonder that the Prince of Darkness would be fighting back.

So why on Earth would I run at the first sign of trouble? or the tenth sign of trouble, for that matter? Why on Earth would I say "Man, I don't know what to do and this is really hard, so I think I'll go home and sit on my couch"???

To Hell with that notion, I'm not going to do any such thing: When in doubt, I ATTACK!

The Mad Genius of Soren

A while back, I read an article that contained a brilliant explanation of the old phrase "There's a fine line between genius and insanity". 

"When your brain works more efficiently than everyone else's, that means it performs most mental tasks more efficiently than other people, including go crazy. Worse, because a smart person's brain is so good at running through hypotheses and rejecting them, it tends to come up with insanity that's more resistant to basic therapy, because the rationalizations are built to withstand the assault of a genius level intellect. When people say genius and insanity are close cousins, this is what they're talking about."

http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2012/12/22/i-was-adam-lanza-part-2.html

And while I don't actually claim to be a genius, I am a highly intelligent person, or so I'm told by the people who tested me once. The problem with being smart, like the author of that article stated, is that when normal people rationalize something, it only takes someone equally smart to talk them back out of it. I'd add that things like tradition and social pressures also work more effectively to keep people of normal intelligence from going too crazy, because most folks don't really bother to question everything and aren't willing to buck society in order to go their own way.

I did, though. I've spent most of my life asking the "Why X?" question, and for all the good it has done me, it's done an equal amount of damage. See, the problem is that there are very few people who can rationally talk me out of anything, and even fewer who are willing to try. I win most of the debates I get into, regardless of whether or not they turn into arguments, simply because I can recall more facts, lay down a stronger philosophical foundation, and rip the other guy's argument apart faster.

The problem with methodically doing this for the last decade or so (I don't actually remember at what point in life philosophy became an obsession) is that there are very few areas of my life that haven't been examined rather ruthlessly to see if they're acceptable. Which in turn means that there are very few areas in my life that anyone can, no matter their motives, actually change my opinions in. Trust me, I generally know why I do what I do, and I've thought it through several times...

...But I need to make some changes in my life, because as it turns out, some of my opinions are wrong, and some of the ways I do things are causing more trouble than they prevent. Surprising, right?

See, the thing about having a strong intellect is that it's like an oak tree. It only gets stronger and stronger as time goes on, but if it doesn't grow up straight, like if someone ties ropes around it as a sapling so that it grows up bent, then that incredibly-strong tree can't easily be straightened out.

I'm bent. I understand how I got bent, of course, not that it particularly matters. I can point to incidents I've been through that have caused damage in my life. Not all of them are my fault, but some of them are, not that "fault" matters at this point, either.

I still need to get unbent. Which means that something stronger (or more accurately smarter) than me needs to make a point of unbending me. It's going to hurt, and all of my bent strength is going to resist. Which is actually as it should be, because it's important to resist forces that threaten to change me, at least until I'm convinced they're positive changes, and not negative ones.

But I still need to make some changes, and it's not going to be pleasant. Anyone familiar with the concept of blacksmithing and metallurgy can understand that the strongest steel is made in the hottest fires, and that an item smithed out of steel has been heated red-hot and hammered on many, many times.

To quote the late author Robert Jordan; "A sword may be grateful to the fires that forged it, but never fond of them."

I have spent a good portion of my life striving to be the strongest, toughest, smartest person I could be. I still think that's a good goal, but what I didn't do when I started was to ensure that the person I was making myself into was going to be made on a firm foundation, with straight lines and a level head. So I became very smart, very tough, and very strong, but I didn't make sure I wasn't bent.

Umm, whoops. My bad.

Now, I'm not writing this to say that I've suddenly figured out how to unbend myself, I haven't. The real problem with being bent is that no matter how strong, tough, and smart I am, I can't be stronger than myself. I will always equal I, so I will never be able to apply enough force to straighten myself back out.

No, unfortunately I need to fine something stronger than me to do the hard work. Looking to other people won't work, if they were smarter than me, I'd not have gotten bent in the first place.

Thankfully, God is most certainly stronger than me, and although He cannot be rushed to straighten me out on my schedule, He is definitely willing to do it.

My head hits the pillow, and I'm sobbing.

My head hits the pillow, and I'm sobbing.

I just want to go Home, Father. I just want to wake up and be Home. I don't even know where or what that is, but I want to be Home.

I'm 30 years old, and I'm crying myself to sleep in Maseru, Lesotho. (For the record, when I write, I write what I feel. What gets posted on this blog is a question of quality, not whether or not it makes me look any certain way.)

I don't have a friend on the entire fucking continent, Father. I haven't known anyone here for even two weeks, I have no one to talk to that has any background or context for anything I'd say, any reference I'd make, any idioms or mannerisms. There's no one here I can trust to see Me.

I'm a broken person. I don't really try to hide it, and I'm not good at acting anyways.

I want off this ride. I don't want to be a missionary, I want to be the guy with the wife, the kids, the dog, the warm bed in a cozy house, the front lawn I'll bitch about mowing. Send somebody else, I just don't want to do this anymore.

It wasn't my thought that came next, it was a line of Scripture. "Foxes have holes, and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head." I think it's from Matthew. One of the Gospels, memorization isn't my strong suit, never has been.

The book of Hebrews, says that Christ was tempted in every way that we are tempted. That was the next thing through my head.

Every. Way.

The Son of the Almighty God, tempted in Every. Way. I've ever been, and ever will be, tempted.

I can barely, barely comprehend it. The text is simple enough, of course, it's just that the reality...

Jesus Christ, the Son of God, The Word become Flesh...was at some point so down that he was tempted with suicide, like I was two years ago? (TWO YEARS AGO, NOT NOW, DO NOT CALL THE COPS ON ME (AGAIN))

Jesus at some point felt so alone, so broken, that He just wanted to set His cross down and be a normal person, forsaking whatever good He knew God would work out of His obedience?

Every way? Jesus was tempted to take over the family carpentry business, instead of being about His Father's work? He was tempted to settle down with a wife and kids, to live a calm, quiet life where He would be left alone, instead of preaching to thousands of people?

Every way? Does that really mean Jesus at times just wanted to sit down, get a loving hug from somebody that knew Him, and let the world handle its own problems? To quit and be a normal guy?

I mean yeah, there's that bit in the Garden, where He asked the Father to take the cup from him, but I mean that's always kinda brushed over. Jesus wasn't actually discouraged, He couldn't have been. He was perfect, we're broken, so He didn't get discouraged.

Because right now, I'm in Maseru. There are dried tears on my cheeks, and I just want to go home. I want to go home tomorrow, to find a nice girl, settle down and not leave town except for leisurely vacations. No more Calling into missions, no more food poisoning from third-world restaurants, no more being unable to sleep because hard beds aggravate my bad shoulder, no more being lonely and alone, no more looking ahead to being broke, homeless, and unemployed the day I get back.

It's tempting. The Bible says Christ was tempted in every way I am. So I'm not alone, and if I struggle with this, so did He.  Christ was where I am, calling out to the Father in tears, asking for another way. And when the Father said "No", Christ obeyed.

I'm not perfect, but I have been as obedient to the calling I've received as I could be. I'm in Maseru, where I was sent, I'm doing the job I was sent to do (well, the food poisoning bit notwithstanding), and I haven't let things like "I would rather not be doing this with my life" stop me.

Maybe I'm not as broken as I think I am. Maybe I'm just human, and struggling with temptation.

Maybe, just maybe, Christ struggled with the temptation to lose hope, to say "Even with God's help, I can't do this, I'm too pathetic, too weak, too alone, too broken."

It does say "every" in that verse.

What do I want to do in life?

Sometimes, the easiest questions to ask are the ones with the most complicated answers, and of all of life's questions, "What do I want to do in life?" is probably the simplest question a person can ask, and yet it generally takes a lifetime to truly figure the answer out.

Of course, for Christians, there's the nickel answer "I want to serve God", that if true, simply begs the second question "How?". Serving God isn't an 8-5 gig, it's a lifestyle, and it's definitely not limited to any one thing. Many people spend their lives serving God, and quite faithfully, yet never go overseas and do missions work, nor do they ever stand in front of a church and preach.

Besides, being a philosopher (especially one that has a blog), I *hate* nickel answers. They're boring, and intellectually speaking, they're a cop-out. Nickel answers are given when people don't want to give the real answer, and are trying to dodge the question.

What do I want to do in life?

I suppose the question requires looking back in life to when I was a child. What did I want then, and what of those things still applies?

I never wanted to be President, and I stopped wanting to be a fireman when I realized that 90% of their calls are for car wrecks, not burning houses. Studying dinosaurs isn't nearly as cool as Jurassic Park makes it seem, and astronauts don't go to other planets, so those faded. Being a pilot was my first dream anyways, long before the others.

I've wanted to be a pilot since I knew what an airplane was. There was never a time that I can recall that I didn't want to be a pilot, I fondly remember playing flight simulators when I was six, turning paper airplanes into a science when I was 7. Anything that resembled flying, I was into.

Of course, the FAA won't let me get a private pilot's license because I'm bipolar. So...childhood dream, meet the US Government. Wave goodbye, childhood dream.

Granted, I'm an aircraft mechanic instead, and I love it. I don't think I've ever had a job that I've been more passionate about than I am about fixing airplanes. It still stings on occasion (read: most days, but not every day) that I'm not allowed to have the chance to be a pilot, but I still love fixing planes. It's better than working on cars, anyways, if for no other reason that airplanes are frikkin' cool, and always will be.

What do I want to do in life?

The other thing I've always wanted in some fashion was a family. There was of course that period when I was a kid when I didn't really know what to do with the strange and beautiful creatures called "girls", but I still knew that at some point, I needed to get one and start a family. The older I get, the stranger and more beautiful girls are, and I still want to get one and start a family.

But I'm 30 now, and that hasn't happened. Gotta find a nice girl to start a family with, and while I've met a lot of nice girls, it seems like half of them don't want kids these days. Three-quarters of the remainder simply aren't worth marrying. The rest got picked up years ago, it seems. It seems, of course, just means that's my perception, obviously there are still worthwhile, marriageable ladies out there that want kids, I just haven't met any.

What do I want to do in life?

Neither of my dreams are reality, neither of them seem likely to become reality any time soon, so I'm back to square one, with that same question.

What do I want to do in life?

Most days I just want to serve God. It's back to that nickel answer, and I hate it, but I don't know what else to say. I never really had any other dreams, and neither of them are reality. I'm surrounded by airplanes I'm not allowed to fly, and never will be, and I keep meeting families with kids, but while kids are fun, they're not my kids.

I feel like I'm being ripped in half most days. I'm surrounded by the two things I want most, but they're not for me.

People, being hypocrites, keep throwing this dilemma back in my face with a "you just need to trust God more." Because apparently, trusting God enough to drop my own plans to go into missions (I really wanted to be a gunsmith, and was a few months away from applying for a patent on a rifle design) nearly four years ago wasn't actually trust, neither is sacrificing everything that got in the way of that, and neither is getting on a plane to fly to Africa (and Haiti, for that matter) and actually going into the mission field. None of that is trust because if it was actually trust, I wouldn't be struggling.

Honestly, I'm quite sorry that I ever spent so many years hoping that someday, somehow, I'd end up a pilot or a father. Shattered dreams suck, and I'm living with two of them. False hope is poison to the soul, and every time I meet a nice girl, only for it to fall apart, it gets harder and harder to not drown in bitterness. Every time I hear pilots bitch about having to fly somewhere, I want to scream.

What do I want to do in life?

I don't know anymore. I'm am aircraft mechanic, I like being a missionary, but putting those two together means I will spend the rest of my career surrounded by pilots with families, and that's a miserable thought. I could console myself with dreams that some day I'll meet a nice girl and start a family, but that's what I've been doing for most of my life, and obviously that hasn't worked yet.

What do I want to do in life?

I don't know. The thing I want to do most in life, serve God as a missions mechanic is also the option that promises the most unhappiness.

What do I want to do in life?

To serve God and be happy.

I have no clue how to go about that. I hate the idea of doing what I truthfully want to do most in life. I hate that I look forward to missions and see valuable, rewarding work keeping the birds in the air, yet at the same time I see that it doesn't come close to resembling happiness. It means being "Uncle Soren" but not "Dad", and spending a lifetime trying not to be bitter when pilots complain.

What do I want to do in life?

Keep moving forward, because in spite of the misery, despair, loneliness, and bitterness, I still trust God more than I trust anything else, even my own emotions. Besides, if there's anything I know in life, it's that meaningful misery is better than the pointless bliss most of the world seems to be chasing. If nothing else, some day I will die, the misery will end, and I will go to Heaven, where God will wipe away all the tears from my eyes, and there will be no more death, nor crying, nor sorrow, nor any more pain, for the former things will have passed away.

What do I want to do in life?

Fight the good fight, finish the race, and keep the faith. Between now and then, there are things I would absolutely love to do, and have spent my life hoping that God would allow me to do, but the only thing that really matters is to keep the faith and keep moving forward. The Bible never promised me happiness, but it does promise an unbeatable retirement package. While it's not all of what I want in life, that's certainly more than enough.

Benefits of Classless Education

One of the side benefits of having seen a lot of action movies is that I've got a wealth of one-line quotes memorized. I don't know what it is about action movies that requires the hero and/or the supporting characters to have one-liners for every situation, but it's an old tradition, and I like it.

For this quote, the heroine (a law enforcement commando-type) has just shot her way out of a drug bust gone wrong, and she's smoking a cigarette on a dock, waiting for the rest of the department to clean up the mess. Her boss sits down next to her, and after a short back-and-forth, says "You're so full of piss and vinegar that if you keep going the way you're going, you run the risk of becoming one seriously fucked-up individual."

The line has stuck with me ever since I first saw the movie. It's a good line. She's the type that responds to every challenge with an even higher level of intensity, even the ones that should be solved with smooth words and diplomacy. So while she's very good at shooting her way out of drug busts gone bad, she's slowly becoming a very, very damaged individual, and eventually she'll be dangerous to everyone around her.

That quote might as well have been delivered to me.

It's been nearly four years since God tapped me on the shoulder and directed me into missions. I still think it's a good career path for me, I've never really been one to chase satisfaction in the form of a big paycheck, but I realize now that I've been going about it the wrong way.

When I first told my family about it, they said I'd fail to make it through school. I've never asked why they said that, it hurt too much at the time to consider their warnings rationally, so I just upped my intensity and kept going forward. My pastor said the same thing, but instead of asking why, I responded by being more intense, and running at higher speeds.

By the time I got to that school, I had a pretty massive chip on my shoulder, and I was there to conquer my major, not simply study hard. I was going to do everything really, really hard, because nobody was going to make me quit. While this had benefits (I had every single assignment done 24 hours before the due date except for a group project), it also had some predictable and bad results, and in the end I cracked and ended up in the hospital on suicide watch.

That definitely served as a wakeup call, but at the time I didn't realize all of the problem. Granted, I'll never try being unmedicated again, but what I really should have learned was to slow down and not be so intense all the time. But I didn't, and I kept charging forward towards being a missionary.

Granted, that was the right move, but it's not just about having a list of credentials, it's about having a certain personality. One has to be able to deal with any situation that comes up, and in the appropriate manner. Some situations require delicacy, some intensity, and others probably other things.

I've pretty much only had one response to any challenge that's come up in the last decade: Intensity. While this really helps when the challenge is a construction job in Haiti, it's really, really unhelpful when the challenge is waiting for several weeks to finally be assigned to a program for my internship.

I am not good at waiting, nor am I good with uncertainty, because neither of those can be dealt with by simply working harder, which is the only way I ever do anything, but being a missionary in third-world countries is going to require a LOT of waiting and dealing with a LOT of uncertainty. That isn't going to change, so I need to if I want to have a chance in this field.

Operation Chill Out is going to be tough. I have literally no idea how to chill out, it's not something I ever try to do. I can be calm, but I'm always in motion, either mentally or physically. I tend to stop only when I'm exhausted, not when I'm relaxed. I have no idea how to relax, I never really saw the point. Why would anyone want to relax when they could be getting things done?

But if I keep going the way I'm going, I'm going to end up a seriously fucked-up individual, and I realize that now. Time to make changes.

Truth, and variations thereof

I'm going to talk about Truth for a bit. It seems that the concept has gotten a bid muddled lately, so I want to explain some things. I figure I'll start with the dictionary definition of "True":

True[troo]adjective
1.
being in accordance with the actual state or conditions; conforming to reality or fact; not false: a true story.

Philosophically speaking, there are three kinds of "Truth" with which we are concerned: Absolute Truth, Relative Truth, and Subjective Truth. Absolute Truth is truth that is always true. Relative Truths are things that are true for you, but not true for me. Subjective Truths are things that are always true, but mean different things to different people.

It sounds confusing, right?

Yeah, it confuses me too sometimes. I'll use a an analogy to try to break it down. Imagine, if you will, a garage door. Garage doors roll up and down, and well, you know what a garage door is. Open the garage door you're thinking about to halfway.

Now, what's true about our theoretical door? Well, Objectively, it's there, it's not closed, and it's open to about six feet from the ground. Those could be defined as Absolute Statements

Subjectively, things get interesting. Six feet might be enough for you to walk under, but if I try to walk out, I'm gonna smash my nose on it. So while it's objectively true that the door is open, subjectively it means different things to different people. A short man will be able to walk out, I will have to duck.

Now, continuing our analogy, what would a Relative Truth be? Well, were I to say that walking out the door requires ducking, that's true for me, but false for a short man. It's an absolute statement to say that "all men must duck because I must duck", but it's false, because not all men must duck. 

The way to pick out Subjective Truth as opposed to Relativism is that Subjective Truths always refer back to an absolute, and are defined in relation to the subject. "The door is open six feet from the ground, a tall man must duck, while a short man does not."

Relativism doesn't define absolutes. It's not concerned with an absolute frame of reference, so instead of defining the precise height the door is opened, we'll just say that "it's open", and that "some folks have to duck."

You can see the effects of relativism everywhere in modern society. Instead of one man killing another always being wrong outside of a self-defense situation, just watch the news. People get killed, and suddenly it doesn't matter who attacked who, it's more important that one was poor and the other rich, or one was white and the other black.

The absolute statements, like "The law defines this act as justifiable homicide because it was self defense" get washed away, and suddenly it doesn't matter who swung first, because the relative issues, the ones that have no Absolute Truth to them are promoted as being important.

Things that are fundamentally required for the stability of society like law and order, right and wrong, and an accepted method of how things work are all being tossed aside because "muh feelings" trump "your rights." Society-wide, we are swimming in a putrid sea of Relativism, and it is going to drown us all.