Saturday, November 01, 2003

So here I am. November first. There's about six inches of snow on the ground, and rumor has it that it will continue off and on through out the week. I have mixed feelings about snow. I like the clouds, the overcast if you will. I really hate snow fall though, and I really hate driving while it's snowing. My overall concern is that there are alot of morons in this area with SUV's. You know the ones, cost $60 dollars to fill up at the gas station, have big fat tires, and a width the size of a small car. 95% of the people who get behind these things thinks it makes them invicible. It sorta does. See in an accident, a collision that is, if the car is at all smaller than the SUV it will be utterly demolished and the occupants rather mangled. While in the SUV the occupants will be a bit bruised and bedraggled. The acception is a roll over, roll over suck for anyone, even SUV's. So there is an entire group of people who are confident they're not going to get that hurt in a vehicle in which they drive. They also feel the vehicle makes them impervious to snow. No one is impervious to snow. I realize that fact. But the SUV's drive like they are impervious to snow. So driving in the winter, when snow is falling particullarly, is irksome to me. I try to drive cautious, slightly safer than normal. There a others, usually in smaller cars though not always, who are doing like wise. Then there are those who are oblivious to the slick conditions, or who are driving SUV's (usually one in the same). The make me mad.

Now once the snow has fallen, once it's on the ground. I don't mind it. The roads a cleared off, not as slick, often not slick at all. It's great. The snow is beautiful and I enjoy it. I like winter because it's cooler than summer. Considerably. I like the cold. I don't like it too cold, but I like it colder. I have an easier time control my comfort temputure in the winter. I bundle up, in layers. If it gets too hot, I take some off. If I get too cold I put some on. I don't mind the extra wieght, hell I hardly notice, so it doesn't bother me to be thicker in layers. The summer, I'm always to hot, and there is only so much you can take off without a knife, so....

Any way for those of you here in Utah, and in other snowy places, please drive safely and responsibly this winter. Enjoy the weather, and if you ski, please be considerate to those who don't on your way up to the resorts. For those of you in areas that just get slightly cooler in the winter, well, I don't really have anything to say to you about that.

So today (or yesterday now I guess) was Halloween. Yes I did celebrate in my own way. I shaved my oh so full vibrant beard into two equally lovely mutton chops, and a moustache to connect late, late, Thursday night Friday morning for the hell of it. Today I took a bucket of candy to work fully anticipating little ones coming in to collect. I was not dissapointed. 20 minutes after our store opened (at 10:20 strangely enough) the first group came in. I must have seen probably over a hundred kids come through today and into the evening dressed as everything from piglet to dracula to Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribean. I loved it. The little kids cracked me up especcially, the newness they had for the holiday. The older ones I'd attempt to scare with my Satans mask, which I'd put on behind the bookcase as I was getting the candy.
My fingernails are painted a beautiful black and pink. I had, erronously, made the agreement last week with a fellow co-worker that IF she came in Halloween, I would paint my fingernails with nail polish. She came in. Then lied about the colours, hence the pink. I did stand in awe as a couple of other gentleman (now I'm assuming too much?) had thier nails painted also. One in transparent glow in the dark, which I promptly made her put over my nails. The other in black only, mostly I think to see if his wife would notice. So right now I have multi-coloured nails and mutton chops, and all day today I perodically donned a Satans mask: Call me CRAZY FRANK!
With that said, I found out one of my friends ran into another one of my friends at her work, where she is apparently able to take bellydaning lessons. Now I think it completely kicks ass that she's learning how to bellydance. I love the fact that she ran into "Jesus" as those of you who know him would get. But I'm completely and utterly perplexed how the lovely Eowyn, as she was today for Halloween, is able to take bellydancing lessons at work. IF your reading Eowyn, please enlighten me a bit.
So the rest of the day was uneventful. I popped into the game store (hey I'm a gamer) and talked with the folks there a bit, then I went and hung out with my friend MR. POOPY PANTS. He was covered in blood, well fake blood, and he had a mohawk. We watched the Hulk again tonight. I really liked that movie, and now I'm writing this, trying to understand why I'm not tired. Well I'm not.

For those of you who happen to be Catholic (or Lutheran, I'm not entirely sure if they celebrate it too) Happy All Saints Day! For every one else, I hope you made it through the night intact.

CRAZY FRANK!

Friday, October 31, 2003

Evil.
What is the nature of evil? Does evil recognize itself as being evil? Does society determine what evil is? Do individuals feel guilt for wicked acts because the act is wicked or because they are being punished for the act? If murder is always an evil act, then what if one kills another in self defense: does this make self preservation an evil act? If it is only society that determines what an evil act is, how can one society deem an act evil and another not deem the act evil? At what point is an act considered a wicked act: in the thought, or the deed? If evil doesn't recognize itself as being evil, then how can we trully determine what is evil; that is, I could be an evil individual and not realize my wickedness, who is it that determines this?

Here's only a few of the questions that have been asked, and can be asked about evil.
Any thoughts?

First things.

Dgrace: to hell with all those dumb asses who want to destroy the feet.

Erica (and Dgrace): So if we go further back into the past and people are smaller, then if I were to time travel back to biblical days, would that make me Goliath?

Teej: I'd never call you at four in the morning. I'd call you at seven in the morning to get your ass out of bed to tell you what a great time I was having. (That's the only reason I can think to call that early). Otherwise I wouldn't call.... I don't have your number you silly fool.

Monday, October 27, 2003

Well Erica touched on something near and dear to my heart tonight: Languages. I've read Wittgenstein, alot of Wittgenstein. In fact I have a book sitting on my desk next to my bed that most people don't own unless they're philosophy majors, or proffesors. It is a book dealing with languages, propositions, and mathematical systems. Needless to say it is above and beyond my capacity for understanding. I still have it though, I hope to 'get it'. We'll see. One thing old Ludwig liked was the concept of language games. We all play them. They have set 'rules' and set 'moves'. When one of us speaks a different language, we are playing a different game. This is an incredibally dumbed down version of it. (If you want more get Wittgenstein's: Philosophical Investigations). Reading and studying him is one of the things that have influenced my beliefs a great deal (if you want to talk about that Email me). It all comes down to language. Really. Here's a smattering of Wittgenstein for you:

"How curious: we should like to explain the understanding of a gesture as a translation into words, and the understanding of words as a translation into gestures. And indeed we really do explain words by a gesture, and a gesture by words."

Ludwig Wittgenstein: Philosophical Grammar.

Sunday, October 26, 2003

I like to have conversations with myself. Usually when I'm trying to wrap my head around something: a philosophical or theological dilema, or an idea that I'm trying to grasp, or just something I'm working on a project of some sort. I don't normally do this outloud, because I'd look crazy and I don't want that. Chances are, however, if I look distant and out of touch with what's going on around me, then there is a conversation going on in my head. Sometimes I'm doing it between someone I know and myself. Other times I distance myself from it by making it two fictional characters. Most of these conversations nothing profound occurs. IN fact I can only think of a couple where something remotely profound occured: One was a spiritual revelation that I won't go into. The other one that I will mention became the play Chilli. The conversation much like the play was about a woman discovering her husband had just turned someone into lunch. Unlike the play the initial conversation in my head was incredibly dark, and not at all humorous. Now is this the sort of shit I usually think about. God no. Not usually. Most of the nonsense going on up stairs is just nonsense. Unfortunatly, this sort of nonsense is going on all the time. I probably spend a good portion of my day, when not engaged in activities of an artistic nature (including film watching) or in conversation carrying on these conversations. Now my mind does wander, the coversations up there do tend to get slanted from the nature of the universe to the best cleaning solution to use on a tile floor in the blink of an eye. (Usually that's when that paricular conversation will end). When ever my mind does wander, I don't usually tend to try and steer it back. I let it go. It'll come back around. I'll get distracted and it will reset. This will help some of you understand the random shit that pops out of my mouth at times. It's because you can't see what's going on upstairs.

Some of you might think I'm crazy. Oh well.