Ignorance: Avoided by Reading More than one Book.

Yesterday, I opened my mailbox to find a pamphlet that says 'Jesus Christ: HE IS YOUR ANSWER' in my mailbox. I read it cover to cover. It sounded like propaganda, it had no real substance to its message, and it made Christians look incredibly ignorant—pretty much what you'd expect from the mentally inept people who usually spout this crap. It's not the fact that it promoted a religion that made it stupid; it's the fact that the people who wrote it were clearly retarded and had no clue as to the reality of the world around them. More on that piece of shit later.

I've been thinking about religion quite a bit lately. To put it simply, I think the aim of all religions is to fool, control and abuse the intellectually inept and those who can't properly critically think. Its goal is to regulate and manipulate, not to save like they so often claim. If you need to stick a label to my forehead, I am an agnostic (in terms of god in general), and an atheist (in terms of the Abrahamic God).

This said, however, I do not automatically hate or even dislike someone if and when I find out they have faith in a religion of some form—this alone does not make someone worth hating or disliking. The moment they say something of pure religious conviction that contradicts scientific knowledge or basic common sense, I usually lose respect for said person very, very quickly. Two of my closest friends are both Christians, and I don't know what I would have done without them. They've helped me countless times when I was in need, without banging on about their shit; they're both intelligent, caring people, regardless of their faith. So I don't develop disdain for a person simply because of their religious background—only on one's actions and intentions do I judge someone.

Even my first (and, at this stage, only :P) girlfriend is Christian. I knew of her faith before we started dating, but I couldn't care less at the time. Did it honestly matter? I couldn't have given less of a shit about her beliefs back then, even though I didn't share them; it blew me away that she'd put aside our differences just so we could be together. It never came between us, not for a long time. I knew it probably meant she would be unwilling to explore sexual avenues, but this was our first relationship, and it lasted little more than six months. I wasn't going to ask anyway, because religious or irreligious, we weren't ready for that kind of intimacy, and discussing it would just have made her uncomfortable. I was lucky to be with her at all; far be it from me to push things :P

Well, as much as I understood that, I was still going to play "Bash the Bible Basher".

Skip ahead about four months. By this time, I'd become wrapped up in more controversial stand-up comedians, starting with George Carlin, and moving on to Lenny Bruce, Bill Hicks, etc. Anyone familiar with even the gist of their work will cite its dark, cynical, anti-authoritarian nature; and that's what I became: darkly cynical and anti-authoritarian :P  I quickly grew to internally criticise religion, writing more and more on the subject in short monologues. At the same time, our year was doing some kind of life skills program (I would have thought you got those by... living... life... o.O). Among the workshops was one on homosexuality, and its tolerance in society—a few gay people came in to discuss their experiences, and would answer any questions the group had. My then-girlfriend was in the same group as me, so we did the workshop at the same time. After it ended, we left the building. Upon reaching the area where we hung out, I was about to reek of bigotry:

"Well, that was a bit pointless for you, wasn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're Christian, so you think gay people are all going to Hell anyway."

...see what I mean :P  I've more or less jumped to the conclusion she's homophobic based purely on her supposed religious beliefs. Now, I can't remember this conversation word for word, but it went something like this:

"Well, it's not like I hate gay people or anything——"

"Yeah, but you think they go to Hell just because they're gay."

"Well, I do think homosexuality is a sin, but that doesn't mean——"

"According to you, people go to Hell if they sin even once. Isn't that putting them on the same level as murderers?"

She now has tears in her eyes. She starts to cry, albeit holding back the tears to speak:

"I don't think gay people are on the same level as murderers; that's not what I think at all. It's not like I think gay people be punished in the same way murderers are; it's God who views all sins as equal, not me. I don't think gay people should be treated like murderers or anything like that. It's God's job to judge them, not mine."

At this point, it has come to my immediate attention that I am being a dick—an arrogant, bigoted, convoluted dick :P  I basically attacked her for what she might have believed, and for some pretty extreme potential beliefs at that. She wasn't a Bible basher at all, yet I treated her like one all the same. Realising what I'd done:

"...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that; it wasn't right——"

She then held her arms out, beckoning me towards her. I went to her, and she hugged me, tighter than she ever had before. I wrapped my arms around; I started to unwrap them about 10 seconds later, but she was still clinging on, so I stayed with her, still not aware of the full impact my actions were to have. It's a cruel irony that one of the closest moments we had came as a result of me being a dimwitted, overly-judgemental fucknugget. It frightens me to think that this event may have destroyed her feelings for me—it's not like I didn't deserve it, but it's still unnerving for me to think the only argument we had was this intense, and that from that point onwards, things weren't really the same. We never fought before this, about anything.

I mention this story because I know a lot of atheists and agnostics like to take the moral highroad and say 'we never try to force our beliefs on other people, unlike you religious bastards!' As my story demonstrates, this isn't true—it's all on the individual. I was the one being a bigoted cunt here, unlike the religious person, who had never tried to lay her beliefs on me a day in her life. Her parents had invited me to her Youth Group thing when we started dating, but that's as far as the word spread, so to speak.

Not too long after that, school finished, and she went on a trip to the United States to see relatives for about a month. She came over to my house once before she left, and we exchanged Christmas presents. She got me a Super Mario Chess Set—she evidently knows what I like, because that was awesome. I got her a necklace—I wanted to get her a copy of an anime film I'd heard about that was based off a series she liked, but couldn't find the damn thing anywhere :P  This, when I look back on it, makes it apparent to me that the relationship hadn't been too damaged by what I'd said. We kept in touch while she was over there over MSN, and nothing seemed awry. When she got back, however, she wasn't open to me at all. I knew it was over by the weekend, and the following Monday, I had to get someone else to give me the bad news because she wouldn't tell me. The best six months of my life ends here.

Months later, I was still trying to get over it. I'd left my friend group, going to the library at recess and lunch rather than outside to see them. Meanwhile, she started going out with a friend of mine; this I only found out about the day before our Year 12 Formal, so you can imagine how shitty I felt about that :P  Thing is, they split only two months after they'd started going out. I remember the day I saw 'Relationship Status: Single' printed on his Wall: I was fucking ecstatic. It was that simplistic, competitive animal inside of me looking at the numbers and gloating in his defeat. "I went out with her for longer than you, I did more stuff with her than you, I was closer to her than you; I win, you lose >:D". A dickish thing to think, most certainly; but when you're down, you'll look for anything to pick you up. From what I understood, she simply didn't like him as much anymore, and they'd been talked into it somewhat by friends, so it was nothing out of the ordinary.

Now skip ahead another six months to a random meetup with friends (little more than two weeks before the publishing of this entry). I'm well and truly past this shit now, and he and I are still friends—I'm pretty sure he doesn't even know I thought that way about him :P  The subject of their relationship was brought up (while he wasn't around, if I recall correctly) and it was mentioned that my ex's parents pressured her into leaving him because he wasn't Christian.

That fucked with my head, big time. My mindset instantly changed. Granted, I was no longer thinking "Haha, I'm better than you"—that mindset was limited to the night I'd seen the Facebook announcement—but my mind was now at the complete opposite end of the spectrum. Now, I felt enraged at the situation: he got royally fucked over. Shit, she got royally fucked over! He got judged prematurely by her fundamentalist, intolerant parents (who seemed to be fine with me, from my experience with them), and she got fucked out of making her own goddamned decisions. She was 18 by the time they'd started dating. She's an adult. She can think for herself. She decides who she does and doesn't go out with. This friend of mine isn't a drug dealer, nor a violent criminal, nor a rapist, nor a scumbag; he wouldn't do anything to hurt her; he's not a bad person. He did nothing to deserve the judgement he received.

And no, this isn't the chauvinist in me trying to step in and valiantly defend my fair lady; I'm not trying to win her back in any sense by appealing to some code of morality. The fact of the matter is that her fucking parents have no place deciding who their adult daughter does and doesn't go out with. There are only two prerequisites for a relationship here: Person A wants to go out with Person B, and Person B wants to go out with Person A. That's the end of the process. If she decides on her own that she doesn't want to go out with a man who isn't Christian, so be it. The point still stands: she goes out with whoever the fuck she wants to go out with. Shit, if I'm not right for her, can she at least be free to choose my fucking replacement?

It disgusts me that her parents have that much influence, that anyone has that much influence in deciding the outcome of a relationship other than the people involved. It's clear abuse of the "Honour thy Mother and Father" commandment; just because it's there doesn't mean parents have the right to be uptight, ignorant, judgemental cunts.

Because that's what this shit does to some people: it fucks their minds right up. It destroys their ability to think properly and actually deal with situations rationally; it permanently tarnishes their perspective on everything. Her parents may have disagreed with her choice to date an irreligious guy, and even expressed their opinions to her—that's their right as people—but I'll be damned if I'm going to think it appropriate for them to fucking interfere with her dating life. And I mean, this doesn't even affect me, yet I took it so personally when I heard about it because I probably fell victim to the same bullshit. I bet you anything that while she was in the U.S., her extended family advised her to leave me. I'd put my life on it. Whilst I had most certainly changed as a person, and become a lot less like the person she liked, the reasoning of 'I just don't find him fun to be around anymore' could have simply been a cover-up for the true reasoning. For now, however, I believe what I've been told—my ex has never been one to lie.

I'm evidently angry about this, which itself irritates me a little: this is all so minor in the grand scheme of things, yet I feel so strongly about it. I don't think ill of my ex for any of this at all; as I've said, she was just as much a victim of her parent's ignorance as my friend was, and as I may have been. It's all in the past, and it's just one small part of my life; but it's still someone's feelings they were toying with, and, at least in my friend's case, what was done was revolting. Being dumped is hard enough as it is, but if it was her decision, I'd have no reason to feel angry. Being dumped with reasoning this poor, on the other hand, is just fucking cruel.

This is when I begin to hate religious people: when the exercise control over their subjects for the sake of their own hate. It's ignorant meddling, and those who meddle ignorantly should be treated like the unenlightened knobs that they are. I learned from my mistake when I called my ex a homophobe, and I apologised for my intolerance because I knew what I did was very wrong and hurtful. She deserved absolutely none of the hate that came out of my mouth, not a fucking word of it. The more fundamentalist religious folk, however, preach till they die, and never realise how ignorant they or their words are, even when they're presented with the evidence.

This brings me to the pamphlet. I scanned it with a magic scanning machine to show it to you:

This is the front cover. Not much to say about it—standard fundie-Christian fare. Now, what is Jesus Christ my answer to? Did I ask these people a fucking question? If I'd asked "What's the name of the man who Christians believe died for their sins 2,000 years ago?", then yeah, Jesus Christ would be my answer. But I didn't ask that question. I didn't ask these people any goddamned questions. Is this Jeopardy by mail-order? Do they send me the answer so I can send them the question?

You see, I was under the impression that Christians thought accepting Jesus into your life was the solution to the problem of sin, not the answer to a fucking question. Devalues the guy a tad, don'tcha think? They evidently respect Him about as much as they do the language.

Also, gotta love the choice of red as the highlighting colour—you know, the same colour as the Devil, hellfire, blood, anger, lust, rage, and evil. Well, at least it's honest!

The first page—where the madness really begins. Now, firstly, why bother quoting the Bible to try and convince me that God is real and that Jesus died for my supposed sins? I believe the Bible was thought up by men thousands of years ago with the intent of tricking people into following their bigoted command from beyond the grave—the point's fucking moot because the book has no credibility to me.

Next up, the classic "Here's how it is, folks!"—making statements and assertions without a shred of fucking evidence to back your point up. God made us, did he? Prove it. You can't? Then stop talking.

Also sick of this "We are sinners by default" nonsense. Really? So, even foetuses are sinners? The fuck did a foetus do to you? To anyone? Yeah, it might have given its mother morning sickness and a bit of swelling, but was that its fault? Why are we sinners right off the bat? And, if we're below God's standards by His design, why the hell are we expected to meet His standards in the first place? Is He incapable of lowering His standards, or producing us to a better standard? To quote Lenny Bruce:

"If God created the body, and the body is dirty, the fault lies with the manufacturer."

Just replace 'dirty' with 'sinful', and there goes your point.

Then we get to the diagram. God likes His metaphors, and He likes them blunt. And stupid.

First off, since when did God live in a forest next to a cliff? Is that Heaven? That's a shithouse Heaven, man. God can do better than that. Where are the fluffy clouds? And the golden harps? And the pearly gates? There aren't any fucking gates, not even a fence or a roof! Shit, you could fly a plane over the top, jump out, and land in this Heaven! What kind of Heaven can be broken into via parachute!? Total fail.

Also love the bridges we've apparently been trying to build. Let's get one thing straight across the board: this diagram assumes we do all these things to reach the Abrahamic God. This assumes He is there to be reached; this alone could be false. In reality, these things may be practised without the intent of reaching God (with the exception of non-Abrahamic religions). In reality, these things are usually practised to either advanced society or because it's seen as the right thing to do. Must have been hard for them to type this with their heads stuck so far up their arses.

Morality: wait, what? Morality isn't a good way to reach God? Doing things you believe to be right and acting in a morally righteous manner to people doesn't mean anything to Him? Well, I suppose you could look at the way some fundamentalist Christians act and talk sometimes, and agree with that one :P  But... isn't there a Christian morality? What about that morality? That one sucks too? Damn, I guess all moralities must be awful. Well, at least I'll have no need to think of other people when I act now that I'm saved!

Religion: Wow. Just wow. I can't even begin to process the amount of irony they managed to cram into the presence of that one word. Let's get this straight, shall we? Oxford Dictionary defines religion as: 

the belief in and worship of a superhuman controlling power, especially a personal God or gods

Does Christianity involve belief in and the worship of a personal God? Why, yes, it does! Therefore, Christianity is a religion; and, according to this diagram, religion doesn't let us get to God. We're not even two thirds down the first page, and they've already gone and completely fucked their argument. But, for the sake of humour, let us continue.

I'm sick of these faggots who try to separate their own religion from all the others by not classifying it as religion. The dictionary and the nature of context makes you incorrect. Even if your religion is correct, it is still a religion. Please get over yourselves. I'm pretty sure arrogance of that calibre is frowned upon by your God.

Good Deeds: see Morality (note to author: they're practically synonyms, for fuck's sake >.< ).

Philosophy: hahahahaha—oh, you're serious. Let me, a Philosophy student, school you. A key area of Philosophy is the concept of logic (the study of correct reasoning). Part of logic is mathematical logic (logic involving mathematical symbols). Without this, they wouldn't have the computer they typed this on, nor the printer they printed it with, nor the resilient architecture of the churches they worship in. Then there's the linguistic element of philosophy, without which they wouldn't have the ability to communicate with their computer nor their fellow Christians. That's not to mention the impossibility of such texts as the Bible, which I gathered was their lovechild from all the quoting they've been doing. This is, of course, ignoring the fact that there have been, and are, devout Christian philosophers—Immanuel Kant is a fantastic example. Way to insult one's own kind.

And all this has been done without success? Well, what does one do when they try something, wishing to succeed, but fails in the process? They try again. People will continue to attempt advancing society via these means forever, Bible or no Bible, God or no God. One day, we might find the key answer people have been searching for, whatever it is, if there is one—it may or may not lie in the hands of God.

Oh, but look! Apparently, we can build a bridge—with a novelty-sized cross. The symbolism hits deep, doesn't it. Also love that it's not Sinful People, it's just Sinful Man. Chicks must get a free pass—can't say Christianity beats down on women's rights now, can you, ladies?

OK, first off, the bridge itself is impassable. I can get about 40% of the way over the bridge, then I run into the tip of the cross. Meanwhile, those amoral, Jesus-reject plane-flying motherfuckers can still get in without a problem. Is there a ladder? A lift? Suction cups or something? Same goes for getting down the other side—do we abseil down? Is there a water slide? A slippery dip? I ain't never seen no cross with a goddamned slippery dip. That's because there is no slippery dip. That's because you don't build bridges out of crosses. And anyway, how wide was the cross that Christ was crucified on? Stretch your arms out as wide as you can—there's your answer. That's hardly a large gap. People can't jump that? Or find a plank of wood that long somewhere? Just take a plank off the actual cross! Damn, the security in this place is worse than at APEC '07. 

I also see more Bible quotes; these I shall explore for you. Gotta love the claim that sinners are all wicked, greedy, depraved, envious, murdering, disobedient, lying, malicious, gossiping, slandering, God hating, insolent, arrogant, boastful inventors of evil operandi. Wow! That's not not a wicked, depraved, malicious, slanderous, arrogant, boastful thing to say at all! Then, the next quote says "no one can boast about [having faith]." Yeah, ragging on those you want to save, not boastful in any way. Implicit braggin' is still braggin'. Any author of scripture, God or otherwise, knows that if you're gonna contradict yourself, you have to do it on different pages.

God demonstrates his love for us by having Christ die for us? No—God demonstrated his love for us by having Christ die for us. Get your tense straight, yeesh (waits for someone to find a temporal error in this entry :P).

And Jesus answered what, exactly? More fucking questions I didn't ask! Is there a question in the previous quote? That's not a question; that's a statement, an assertion, a proposition. This stuff really isn't hard to grasp—there are kindergarteners more linguistically enlightened than these pricks.

Back cover. I can choose to cross—I see what you did there! Credit where credit's due; that was a good one.

...wait... I can choose to cross? I cannot build the bridge? What must I do? Like, the author's referring to themselves in the first person? What? Well, if it's what they must do, why the hell are they sending it to me! They should send it to themselves!

"...repent then, and turn to God"... no, you turn to God first, then you repent! Who are you repenting to if not to God? The atmosphere? Don't you know it's polite to look at someone when you talk to them?

And why does this pamphlet feel the need to tell me what Heaven and Hell is? I live in a country where 66% of the population aligns themselves with some form of Christianity, and we get most of our media from a country where 80% does the same. I know this shit, man! I don't live under a rock—and if I did, I'd make damn sure I didn't have a mailbox so I didn't find crap like this in there when I got home.

I also need to mention, just in case anyone is unaware, that the whole CAPS LOCK IS CRUISE CONTROL FOR COOL thing is actually sarcasm. These people must have thought it was serious. We learned types have a pretty dry sense of humour at times, don't we ;)

And what's this about helping me grow? What man doesn't know how to grow? Every man knows what turns him on; we can take care of this ourselves, thank you very much. Or did they mean grow taller? God's not gonna help kids grow taller. Kids grow taller until they hit their 20s, then they stagnate, then they start shrinking at 50. God's not gonna interfere with that process. Don't give kids false hope like that—every kid wants to be tall. Hey, at least they know what the kids want, right? They're all kinds of hip, and they're most certainly down with it, if I may say so myself.

I laughed when I saw it was from a Korean church. Living in Australia and seeing that was just funny for me; I don't really know why. If Australian Koreans wanna practise Christianity, that's cool, go right ahead; just do a better job of proselytising next time. Throw some evidence in the mix! It helps :)  Koreans practising a Middle Eastern religion in black man's country that was taken over by white Europeans—multiculturalism at work, 'eh?

Getting to the point: my main problem with this garbage is that it doesn't tell me a damn thing. I know Christians believe I'm a sinner and that I need to accept God and Jesus to be saved; what new information does this pamphlet present to me? None. No presented evidence, no compelling argument, nothing of any value; just drivel that I've heard a million times over. It's sad to think these people are under the impression that they're saved—if God is real, and He lets people this stupid in to Heaven... fuck it, leave me out. The Devil might be a cunt, but if he shares a flat with Christopher Hitchens, Charles Darwin, Mahatma Ghandi, Frank Zappa, and the aforementioned comedians, I think I'll crash with them, rather than these silly bastards who think they're headed to a magical forest upon death.

Arrogance: Karma's BFF

"Oh... back, are you?"

Indeed I am :D

"Probably here to talk about that fancy of yours -- am I right?"

Go fuck a tractor :D

Believe me, I will be talking about her, but not right now. I can already hear the sighs of relief -- don't try to hide 'em :P

Rather, I intend to discuss effort, reward, and the occasional lack there of. I've been under a great deal of pressure lately to work, and my recent toil has paid off. I've nearly finished a short play I started a month back, I've got a few short stand-up segments together, and I've been through an(other) exam period, one of the few I actually studied for :P   It's been stressful, but (almost) entirely rewarding, with the energy I've spent slowly coming back as good marks and good material. Not everything I've been working on this year, however, is so dandy. I mentioned in an earlier entry a comedy competition I was preparing for, which I recently performed in... and lost :P To be beaten is one thing, but to be beaten by people who prepared less than you and had less experience than you is grade-A bullshit.

Four out of the eight or so performers would go on to the next round, and two of the four chosen were well deserving of advancement. The rapid-fire ventriloquist act and the stand-up comic with a missing ligament were outstanding performers with fucking awesome material, more than worthy of their spots. I regret to inform you that I can't show you their acts, 'cause I would if I could. The third placement was iffy but still an acceptable candidate: a non-sequitur comic with only ~2.5 minutes of material, heavily influenced by Mitch Hedberg -- one of his jokes almost mirrored word for word that of his idol. The fourth choice leaves me stumped: a performer who spent half her performance "umm"ing and "err"ing, stalling, and lacking overall stage presence. This is just bad performing in general, let alone for a competition.

These four competitors only shared one thing: a good reception from the audience -- and that's all the judges were looking for: laughs. Preparation, delivery and structure simply did not come in to play as deciding factors with the placements. Some people were rehearsing with scripts... scripts! If your performing a five minute routine where you need to maintain a connection with the audience for the entire set, the least you could do is learn your fucking lines! Even the guy who hardly had three minutes of material had his jokes written on paper -- from my experience, individual jokes are easy to remember if they're good (i.e. worth remembering), so that confused me. In all my years, I've never seen such reliance on the dreaded reading material. Granted, no one had a script during their actual performance, and to bring your script for the occasional reference in case you fuck up a line during rehearsal is a smart move, but to be reading it top to bottom in preparation only goes to show you weren't doing what you were supposed to be doing yesterday.

I was the only one there who'd done the competition before, with my first stand-up performance quickly teaching me that confidence is vital for any comic performance; and while most of the entrants were confident in their routines, I was the only one who was complimented on being openly confident (by the non-sequitur guy :P) In addition, I was the only performer who received commendation from the comic mentor in terms of delivery, and the only one she said had conversational tone -- she had not one suggestion for improving my act! Not one! "See how he was talking to the audience like that? That's the way to go!" I was the fucking benchmark! Everyone else's routine was altered in some way via the professional's suggestions, but I performed my routine for the audience no different to how I'd performed it in rehearsal. This might have been to due the fact I'd been writing and editing the routine for three months.

That's right: three months of writing to come out with five minutes (little more than a page) of material. Considering most comics perfect forty-five minutes of material in around two years, this is ridiculous even by the industry's standards :P   The time taken was mostly due to a meticulous editing process I implemented in my attempt to utilise every second of the three hundred I had to strike lolz with the audience. The set had to start strong, end with a punch-line, and stand out from the rest. My opening lines were carefully written to get the audience laughing as soon as possible, and the end was (in theory) a great round off. Unfortunately, the audience wasn't as bright as the (considerably younger) student body I'm usually surrounded by. Here's the opening gag (I'm holding a bottle of water):

"Let me take a drink of water here... they call this a bottle of water -- is this really a bottle of water? Think about it: if a stack of chairs is a stack made of chairs, and a pile of leaves is a pile of leaves... then what's a bottle of water?"

Do you get it? Huh? Do you!? The audience didn't! They didn't have a fucking clue! Surely, an educated, literate adult (like those that filled the audience) can do the math and figure it out: it's a bottle made of water, which isn't structurally possible and hence absurd to consider. When I recited the same joke for a pack of students, I was cut off by laughter -- they got the joke before I even finished it! Irony was girding its loins well before the actual event :P

All this boils down to one thing: my unadulterated, ego-fueled arrogance. I was not only the most experienced comic, but also the cockiest, and it takes a downfall like this to teach a very valuable lesson in one single blow: shit happens. Karma has been in the education business for a very long time, and his experience in this field is unrivaled by that of any other spiritual concept. I went in thinking I was the most talented when I was only the most conceited; but I was also the most prepared, and I will continue to question the judge's criteria and the audience's intelligence for weeks to come. There is the small chance of a wildcard bringing me to the next round, but with the appalling reaction I got compared to previous performances, I highly doubt it.

...fucking amateurs... I hate being one :P

EDIT: I got the wildcard... yeah, I'm confused too :P

Opportunities: Smacking Me Over the Back of the Head After I Walk Past Them

It's been a while since I've written anything, hasn't it? Perhaps it's because nothing interesting has happened to me at all. I've been a bit of a busy beaver lately, so there's been little time to think, let alone type, so- ...you know what? Fuck formalities -- you didn't come here to read about what I haven't had time to do :P  Let's talk about shit that has happened... sorta kinda :P

I have been devoid of any interaction with my fancy (here the fucker goes again :P) and hence this blog has been devoid of any reporting from the front line, which has been partially responsible for my lack of textual presence. I saw her for the first time in 5 weeks today... if only I had known it was her upon the first sighting :P Here's the lowdown: I'm walking to the meet where the rest of the group is; and when I walk, I walk fast. Anyone walking faster than me is usually sprinting. I also listen to music while I walk, and I had the Ratchet and Clank: Going Commando soundtrack on shuffle -- no, I'm not obsessed with the furry bastard to the point where his soundtrack is my motivation for any form of pedal transportation; I just like the soundtrack and haven't listened to it for a while. Get off my proverbial back, God damn it! :P

Anyway; I'm walking down, listening to GC, and one of the faster tracks comes on, which means I walk faster (I have this undeniable urge to walk in time with the music I'm listening to -- do you have that too? It can't just be me- bah! Tangents be gone!) I'm overtaking anyone and everyone in front of me, and I'm nearing my destination, but even with plenty of time to spare, the music takes hold, pushing me forward. There's a lone figure up ahead, and this would easily be the last person I have to get around, making for a swift arrival at the meet. I close in on them to discover the person is some girl, about the same height as me, with pale white skin and dark red hair, wearing short shorts, stockings, and black sunglasses on her head -- just another slow random who's getting in my way. Let's walk past her."

This is the part where I fucked up.

Big time.

I arrive at the meet, and five minutes later, guess who shows up? My fancy! ... who is about the same height as me, with pale white skin and dark red hair... and who just happens to be wearing short shorts, stockings and black sunglasses on her head!

...FFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUU-

I can only imagine the calibre of facepalm it would take to fully represent what a dickhead I've just made of myself! Let's start with the obvious: here is my fancy, the girl of my dreams, walking along a footpath at a reasonable pace with nowhere urgent to be... and I WALK PAST HER!? I could have completed an entire dossier on the girl in the time I spent rushing to get somewhere I was early for anyway! That's a phone number, an MSN address and hence initial contact down the drain! Oh... did I mention the fact that she was by herself? Alone! In solitude! When she gets there, she indulges in conversation with others -- there's no chance for any decent discourse between us -- but here, no other punk-ass intruders were even present, let alone able to get in my way...and I don't even notice! Believe it or not, I had moments earlier checked to see if the girl I speak of was coming out of the train station I walk past on my way there... how does one MISS what they were actively LOOKING FOR only FIVE MINUTES EARLIER!?

The biggest consequence of my (lack of :P) actions, however, is far more subtle, and it may have actually damaged relationship potential rather than simply having missed an opportunity to boost it. We know I walked past her, but let me remind you of the speed at which I passed her: she was at walking pace... I'm at almost jogging pace... which means I bolted past her! This  not only means I didn't notice her, but that may very well have told her I was in a hurry to get away from her! That tells her I don't even want to speak to her when that's all I've been trying to do for WEEKS ON END! I'd kill to have a conversation with her, and I am not talking in any figurative manner! Whilst this was never confirmed and we actually did speak for a bit before the group went inside, but there was nothing special today in our interaction; and, considering we hadn't seen each other for 5 weeks, you'd think a "so, what did you get up to?" would have come my way. Yes, yes; I know I should have asked her that question... but we'll get to that later :P

The knockout punch actually came just after we got inside. I was thinking to myself "it's OK, it's all OK... you'll still leave with her. You'll still walk with her after the session. Another girl will be there, but it's better than nothing..." I was going to find that out the hard way :P  No more than a few minutes after we get in, my fancy (and the girl she walks to the train station with) made arrangements to leave 10 minutes early. Being straight across from my fancy (one of the few things that went right that afternoon -- her face is so pretty! :D) I heard, and it was at this point that my head internally collapsed -- that's every avenue I have for initiating  form of contact exhausted in the space of 20 minutes. We were then instructed to clear our minds by writing whatever we were thinking about now for 2 minutes, which basically involved me writing what you see here condensed in to a short, handwritten paragraph (with increased profanity density :P).

Even knowing that I could (and, with a stroke of luck, will) bump in to her at the same time next week, being fully aware of her presence and able to take advantage of the opportunity, she probably won't be alone next time (nor any other) as I'm sure she usually walks with someone who was away this week -- the walking with her afterwards is also fucked seeing as I can't run fast enough to catch up with a 10 minute gap (and believe me, I tried. Hard.) There is, however, one teensy weensy little trick I have up my sleeve: illegitimately acquired contact details. That's right; you read correctly: contact details. I discovered that her e-mail address is in the big list of 'em when the whole group gets sent stuff. To use it would be a little unusual, yes, but what options do I have now? This is the only reliable one left -- the encounters leave too much to chance. With the group now working on our final task, ideas are being discussed, and her's is one of intrigue and mystery... I don't know just what it is, but it sounds... just interesting. What little details I have now don't fit, and she's the only one with the missing pieces, so let us ask for them! What do I have to lose? If I e-mail her and she replies, there's my ticket and off I go; if she doesn't reply, we know the answer to that all important question and can get the fuck on with life. It's win-win... for me, anyway :P

...you know what else I'd kill for? A DeLorean... with a flux capacitor and time circuits that actually work.