The Stalwart Lily Bart and the Traits and Tools of a Coward

_____Of all the things that Lily Bart from House of Mirth may be (temptress, manipulator, spoiled, etc.), a coward is not one of them. A coward is someone who seeks out the easiest way to go through life, and even then they will find a way to expend the least amount of energy in doing so. For example, Lily intentionally botches her chance to marry Percy Gryce, and subsequently into money, just so she can spend time with the man she loves. She can feign surprise at Percy’s sudden urge to flee, but she knew what she was doing. When she let slip a few extra drops of her sleeping medicine, she knew what she was doing. She remembered the chemist’s warning, though she paid it little real thought, and took the one in a hundred chance knowingly (Wharton 342). Though she played with her life and lost, she had as much intention to lose as any time she played bridge or any other game of cards.

_____It’s easy to see why some people may believe that Lily consciously took her own life, or even subconsciously as the text indicates on page 342 (“ –darkness, darkness was what she must have at any cost.”), but that’s a matter of interpretation rather than indisputable fact. It doesn’t make any sense that Lily would force herself to write a check to Gus Trenor, only to not get the satisfaction of showing his pompous assed self that she was nothing if not true to her word. She had been ground to dust, leaving a thin layer of it on the floor of her former social scene, but she wouldn’t be swept away so easily. Killing herself would have made it all too simple for those she once counted as friends to well and truly brush her off their conscience and their shoulders.

_____Going beyond those fair-weather friends, there was also Selden to think about, which she did. As she slowly passed from the cruel waking world to the mercifully benign realm of sleep she remembered that there was something she must tell him. There was a word that would make everything better between them, and it scared her that she might forget it before she woke (Wharton 343). More than the check that had already been written and prepared for delivery, talking to Selden was a vital priority that demanded she wake up in the morning from her drug induced sleep.

_____I can’t say what that word is, and I’m sure even Wharton can’t say without a few grains of salty doubt what it is either, but I will venture a guess and say that it was marriage. With the money allotted to Trenor, and the incriminating letters to Selden burned, Lily had no reason to not accept Selden as her husband. It would no longer be a marriage based on money, but based on love, and if love isn’t a reason to get up in the morning then I shudder to think of how few options there remain to do so.

_____So with self-worth and love on the checklist of why Lily didn’t intentionally kill herself, I present the future for inclusion on that list as well. When Lily visits Nettie Struther’s apartment she sees a life of happiness, despite being in such close proximity to failure and poverty. Witnessing such love and dedication to living stirred something in Lily, and that something was her own resolution to making her own future. That future is shown as the baby Lily holds while she slides into her drug induced sleep. She takes great care to cradle the newborn, “…holding her breath lest a sound should disturb the sleeping child” (Wharton 343).

_____That baby, figurative as it may be, is the new Lily she alludes to on 328. Lily has succeeded in fully creating her new self, and there is no point in making and nurturing that new self if she’s going to kill it off with a few measly drops of soporific. It’s ludicrous to think that Lily Bart knowingly killed herself when she had given herself so many reasons to live. Suicide is a coward’s tool, designed to injure loved ones and escape what was never pursuing. Lily Bart is not a coward and she would never do such a horrible thing to those she loved or to herself. She just wouldn’t.

The Social Network Not-Review

I've just finished watching The Social Network. The credits are rolling at the moment and there's a very soothing kind of ambient music playing as the text rolls by. The credits are over now though, because I checked a few facts on Wikipedia and Google (Mark's birthday and proper italicization (that's a word?) rules respectively) so the following blog entry will be 'correct.'

I'm halfway tempted to play it again from the beginning just so I can have it playing as background noise while I write this, but the menu screen is a few minutes long and is surprisingly conducive to my writing. Anyway. The one thought that popped into my head within the last few minutes of the movie was this, 'This is my generation's Catcher In The Rye.'

Granted, my generation's Catcher In The Rye already is Catcher In The Rye, but The Social Network comes damn close to echoing what makes that story so powerful: I hate this world, but I want to belong.

The Mark Zuckerberg we see in the movie, which isn't the real one, is attending Harvard. He's in an exclusive club with back doors that lead to lucrative and powerful positions all over the world, but that's not what he wants. He just wants to have access to them. To know that should he ever decide to use them, he can. But he can't. They're not listed among his Membership Benefits. He's got a Silver Account instead of a Gold or Platinum. To counter this, he starts his own club and succeeds wildly. He's now the youngest billionaire in history, but he's still the guy who just wants to belong somewhere.

I can relate to that. Not the billionaire thing, but the desperation to feel like I belong. I have friends, and if you scroll down you'll see a lovely piece I wrote about how much they mean to me, but I just feel like it isn't enough sometimes. Of "friends" on Facebook, I have 79 while other's number in the hundreds. There's nothing wrong with that, but that doesn't make me feel any less secure when I think about it. I've been told I'm a great guy, but there's that number staring me in the face. It's not even committed enough to laugh at me.

I've also been told that I have this amazing talent for writing, and though I've seen it for myself, I sometimes can't help but think I'm being lied to. If it was there, I should have already written reams upon reams of poetry, fiction and essays. But I haven't. The ideas are there, rattling in my head, fresh as the day they cropped up, but they're stuck there. They want desperately to be put to paper, even if it's digital, but they can't get out. I want them to come out perfect, but that's not going to happen unless they come out. Even this rant is having a hard time finding its way onto the screen and it's not even fiction!

I want to write, but I can't. I tell myself I will when I have time, but I already have it! I sit on my couch with the TV on and Facebook open, hoping people read what I post and comment on or even Like it. I post song lyrics and YouTube videos in vain attempts to grab somebody's attention, forgetting how well it went the last time. I'll post those, but I won't post how miserable, lonely and disappointed in my life I am because I think it's a petty grab at attention towards my too small audience.

I hate my life at the moment. I say 'at the moment' because I can't see (or stand to bear for that matter) how this life could last into my 30's, 40's and beyond. Yes, I'm in school, but not the one I want to be in. I still live at home, and though I'm surrounded by all my possessions, it all seems so meaningless. I hate my job that I can't quit and something else I deleted though it's no secret what it was I'm sure. I'm scared because I have no idea what I'm supposed to do next, but I refuse to accept help because that's what weak people do. I'm a walking Catch-22 if ever there were one. I'm only happy when I'm miserable, but I'm always miserable so why aren't I happy?

I just wanted to write about how much I loved The Social Network. I wanted to say that Mark isn't an asshole. He's awkward, smart and a good guy, but damn if the good guy part doesn't get lost in the shuffle. I know what it's like to not fit in when by all accounts you should, and to then go about being alone with a stiff upper lip. It sucks. It's soul crushing work that goes unrewarded as long as it goes.

The film ends with Mark tapping F5 intermittently, silently waiting for the reason he's there to respond to his friend request. This blog entry ends with me posting a link to Facebook, warning people not to read it for how dreary and depressing it is. Then I'll be going to sleep. When I wake up I'll wring whatever joy I can from those few fleeting seconds where I can't remember what drove me to write all of this in the first place.

Good night.

'Tough' and 'Competent'

____There usually isn't anything good on TV from when I get home from school until I leave for work. So instead of good, I settled on mildly interesting and began to watch a special about the Space Program titled "Failure Is Not An Option." It wasn't long before the show went from mildly, to genuinely interesting, and it was cool to learn about the various successes and failures of the program. It eventually came to the Apollo 1 fire disaster.

____It didn't shy away from showing how reckless NASA was being. The fire and subsequent deaths of the astronauts Grissom, White and Chaffee were because of that recklessness, and they could have easily been avoided. It was a tragedy, but it was by no means the end. Gene Kranz, flight director for the mission, gathered everyone together on the Monday morning after the disaster and delivered a stirring speech. It was at this point the show went from interesting to damn inspiring. The speech, which Kranz can recite from memory, is as follows...

____"Spaceflight will never tolerate carelessness, incapacity, and neglect. Somewhere, somehow, we screwed up. It could have been in design, build, or test. Whatever it was, we should have caught it. We were too gung ho about the schedule and we locked out all of the problems we saw each day in our work. Every element of the program was in trouble and so were we.

____The simulators were not working, Mission Control was behind in virtually every area, and the flight and test procedures changed daily. Nothing we did had any shelf life. Not one of us stood up and said, 'Dammit, stop!' I don't know what Thompson's committee will find as the cause, but I know what I find. We are the cause! We were not ready! We did not do our job. We were rolling the dice, hoping that things would come together by launch day, when in our hearts we knew it would take a miracle. We were pushing the schedule and betting that the Cape would slip before we did.

____From this day forward, Flight Control will be known by two words: 'Tough' and 'Competent.' Tough means we are forever accountable for what we do or what we fail to do. We will never again compromise our responsibilities. Every time we walk into Mission Control we will know what we stand for. Competent means we will never take anything for granted. We will never be found short in our knowledge and in our skills. Mission Control will be perfect.

____When you leave this meeting today you will go to your office and the first thing you will do there is to write 'Tough and Competent' on your blackboards. It will never be erased. Each day when you enter the room these words will remind you of the price paid by Grissom, White, and Chaffee. These words are the price of admission to the ranks of Mission Control."

____There's no particular reason I posted this other than I really like the speech and I'm glad that I heard it, but I think that everybody should at least read it. It's inspiring and poignant, and I challenge anyone not to be moved by it.

To My Friends

I don't usually do well with January. The holiday rush is over, I sulk over an entire year having gone by and it's cold all the time. January 2010 was no different, but 2010 as a whole was awesome. Oddly enough, it was awesome as a direct result of school. Near the end of the fall quarter my friend Jay, who I shared two classes with the previous year, was intent on restarting the Anthropology club at CBC. He got the paperwork going and I had signed on as the treasurer (I was really only the third to sign and got the position that way). All told there were 8-11 people that signed up. One of them was Ashley, who at this point was just a girl who sat behind me in class, signed into either vice-president or secretary of the club. More on her later.

So, with the winter quarter underway, the anthropology club began meeting every Tuesday at 1:50. Jay and I were done with school at 12:30 so we always had time to kill before then. We'd go out to lunch to different places, usually for pho by downtown Kennewick or to a Hawaiian place near the school. It was so great to spend time with a friend on a regular basis, and it really brightened my day. The club meetings were just as enjoyable. I've always shied away from groups, but I was tired of being alone because of it so I made myself attend; and my change of tact paid off.

During one of the earliest meetings, this really scruffy looking guy with a cane showed up. I didn't pay him much mind, but then I realized he was laughing at my jokes! That's good enough for me, I thought, and I eventually learned his name was Jake and he was taking Archaeology with Jay, Ashley and I. Now, I don't know the exact sequence of events, but I know that one day Ashley came to lunch with Jay and I. Soon after that, Jake would come along too. Before I go on, I'd like to give a short (no promises) description to each of them.

-Jay is an outspoken guy who is damn near impossible to repress. If he's having a good time, everybody is. In fact, if it wasn't for him I wouldn't even be writing this. We'd had the same class, in the same room, with the same professor but at different times for Fall '08. For Winter '09 however, we had the same class, in the same room, with the same professor at the same time. One day early in the quarter he asked if I sat in the same spot the previous quarter, when I replied "Yeah." he yelled back (despite being only two feet away) "Oh dude, me too!" For the next five quarters we had a class together, and it was awesome.

-Ashley is... well, in a nutshell, Ashley is incredible. She's every bit her own person and she has no problem speaking her mind even if somebody else is talking, especially if the somebody is me (a bit of a running joke). She took Cultural Anthropology with Jay and I in Fall '09, and sat right behind me. We both showed up before the class before let out, and we would stand in the hall completely silent. I always wanted to say something to her; to strike up a conversation, but I thought for sure she was too cool so I never tried. Even though I know now that she is too cool, I wish I had tried. I'm really happy I got to know her, and I miss being interrupted by her sudden excitement that would be triggered by whatever I was talking about.

-Jake is, wait for it... intense (another inside joke). Seriously, you should see the guy when he hasn't been at the mercy of a razor or hair clippers for an extended period of time. On a slighty more serious note, Jake is the friend I wish I would have had for longer than I have already. He's so damn laid back as to make me worry less about whatever trouble I may be having. We have conversations as much as we have running commentary on any number of things. We are both jaded, yet expectant; cynical, yet hopeful; tired, yet enthusiastic. I wouldn't trade Jay (or Dale (Jay's girlfiend)(again, more later))) or Ashley for anything, and that goes double for Jake. There's a Japanese word without an exact English equivalent that means "more than friends, but not blood-related family"; nakama (仲間). Jake is my 'nakama.'

-Dale, as I mentioned before, but haven't really talked about yet, is Jay's girlfriend, but she's so much more. She's like a lone voice of reason among the group, and we always manage to talk over her! She's incredibly sweet, very intelligent and just as irrepressible as Jay. They're about as married as two people can get without a ceremony, and we let them know this often. Dale also attends the prestigious University of Southern California, so that's really awesome too. Also, I'm sorry this is shorter than the rest Dale. It's nothing to do with quality, haha.

So now where was I? Oh yes, the epic awesomeness that was 2010. I'll be more succinct going on. With the reformation of the Anthropology club came the issue of a club trip. Seeing as how Jay, Ashley and I made up the majority of the club leadership it came to us to plan the trip. The general idea of going to the Washington peninsula for a cultural event was eventually decided on. Jay did most all of the paper/legwork, but we soon discovered that because the trip fell outside of the Spring quarter we wouldn't receive any money from the school.

Undeterred, we decided to make a smaller trip out of it with just the five of us. We would drive to Renton and spend the night at Jake's dad's place before heading out to Neah Bay the next day. Ashley, Jake and I drove together in Jake's "Magic Van" (the side door opened by remote, like magic!) while Jay and Dale drove up in Jay's brand new car! We had a great time at Jake's dad's. We barbecued and had what was essentially a slumber party in the living room. We had also decided it would be a camping trip, so with tents and sleeping bags in tow we made our way out to the peninsula, and Neah Bay.

The cultural event we attended involved members from Native American tribes canoeing along the coast to this point as tradition. It was great being there with everybody, and it was really cool to see such a thing. Once that was done we went to a hiking spot within a few miles of the town and did some hiking. It was a lot of fun snapping pictures of what was truly beautiful nature. Among other things:
-Jay almost died trying to take a picture, but I saved him,
-We were on the very edge of Washington, which is where Jay almost died
-We met a nice older couple that took our picture, and refused to believe Ashley knew how to operate a camera
-Despite having a cane, Jake is very adept at navigating uneven terrain while hitting somebody with the cane
-I don't think I'd have gotten as many cool pictures as I did if Dale wasn't pointing all of it out to us

The time soon came for us to find a suitable camp site. After hours of driving we decided on a site about 45 minutes outside of Forks (yes, that Forks) mainly because it was the one with vacancy. We set up camp after procuring some supplies and had a grand time reminiscing about our trip so far. It was easily the best time I'd had all year, and I will always think back on it fondly. I was with friends I had come across purely by chance, but they are true friends no matter what the circumstances.

For years I thought that I could go it alone because for years I had been alone. I had friends, but they were either online or not close enough (physically or emotionally) to spend that kind of time with me. I thought that I was strong enough to make it, and though I might be, after knowing such friendship again I don't want to find out.

So to Ashley, Dale, Jay and Jake; I love you all. We might not be going out to lunch after school anymore, but I'm so happy that we did and I'm looking forward to future cool kid hangoutz, trips or just talking to each other. You have all made my life so much better, and I just wanted you all to know that.

Thank you.

A political message

Bloated, runaway military spending.

Constant denial of rumors of a 'Death Star.'

Continued proliferation of the Rebel Alliance.

This is the legacy left behind by Grand Moff Tarkin. General Zevulon Veers looks to continue this trend of shady deals and back room politics.

Admiral Firmus Piett has worked to fight against the kind of corruption Veers has brought upon the Empire. Piett is a veteran of the Battle of Hoth, and grew up in the Outer Rim, which is more than can be said of Veers.

Don't let the rule of Grand Moff Tarkin continue. He's dead, and zombies make terrible leaders.

A speech about me?

Surely the title jests? Nope.

School has started back up and I already have an assignment for one of my classes. The one I'm going to share is from my speech class. We had to write a two minute maximum speech to read in front of the class, and this is mine. I timed it to 1:25 in an uninterrupted somewhat speedy recital, so I should fit neatly within that two minute marker.

And just so we're clear, the :rimshot: denotes an actual rimshot that I will be playing at that point in my speech. Oh yeah, I'm going all out.


When some of you look at me, I’m sure that what you may see is a shiftless guy in his early 20’s, coasting through life and is only in this class because it’s a pre-req for the AA he wants. Well, you’d be wrong. I’m in my late 20’s. :rimshot:

I’m not any of those other things either, but the joke wouldn’t work otherwise.

I’m 28, I like to read, watch TV, and write. I even came in first place in the poetry division for LitFest back in May. I play video games but not nearly as much as I used to, and I play guitar. I also like to watch anime and read manga. Not the kind some of you may be thinking of, just so we’re clear. That’s not really important, but it’s important to me.

I work at Red Lion in Kennewick as a dish washer, and though I hate my job sometimes, it has taught me some valuable lessons. One of those lessons I even thought up myself; everything is a mess, it’s just a matter of how organized it is. If you saw the place after I’ve been gone a couple days then you’d know what I mean.

Okay seriously though, I don’t like to take much seriously. I’m perfectly capable of doing so, but I feel that if humor can legitimately be found in a serious situation then it shouldn’t be ignored. It shouldn’t be unceremoniously trotted about either, but if you’ve been through enough crap in your life you’ll eventually learn the correct timing for such a thing. And a well placed rimshot, literal or otherwise, doesn’t hurt.


I like what I've got there, so all that's left now is to let my natural showmanship shine through and deliver one hell of a performance. It should be great!

note: If I should bomb, let's all pretend this never happened.

Wrong numbers are funny things

I have to warn those of you who are averse to swearing and practically non-existent grammar because the following blog post contains both, and will not be edited. I've got to preserve this for posterity after all.

When I was at work today I received a phone call from an unknown number. I answered just to be sure it wasn't somebody I knew, and it wasn't. The caller asked for 'B', and I informed her she had the wrong phone number. When I didn't hear a response I hung up. I thought nothing more of it and went back to cleaning.

Not wanting to listen to the radio anymore, I used a small set of speakers we have at work and hooked them up to my iPhone to listen to Pandora (I'll need to do a separate post about that bit of nonsense). About 20 minutes in, the song that was on started to skip. I chalked it up to the wifi acting up, but when I went to look at the artist currently playing, I saw the following:

Unknown number: So now ur fuckin that ugly fat bitch... Fuck u Brian, ur a bitch in my eyes now. Live ur life without me now, forget u ever even knew me Brian... I hope ur happy now, and getting whatever the fuck i didnt give u. I dislike u so much and wish i would have never even knew u. U have broken me so bad, and i hope ur happy for that u mutherfucker.

Now, I can only assume this young lady is upset. About what exactly, I don't know, but it obviously has something to do with Brian. Maybe even the previously mentioned 'B'. Possibly. I replied of course:

Me: Uh, this isn't Brian. Sorry he made you so mad, but you might want to get the number right next time.

I had a feeling this wouldn't be enough to persuade her I wasn't the Brian she was looking for, or to stop texting me. I was correct.

Upset girl: Oh i got the number right bitch... I know u guys are fuckin, he puts it out there that this is his phone too... I know u'll relay this to him sence guys are together now. I hope he brakes u the way he has done me everyone of his other gurls. I hope u guys have a good life of hell together.

Well now, whatever this Brian hath wrought upon this poor girl must have been a real doozy. I didn't want her to continue to waste her energy on somebody that didn't deserve it however, so I called the number and left a nice message that went something like this, though it's not verbatim.

Me again: Hey, this is the guy who's number you keep texting. Like I said before, I'm not Brian and I don't know who he is. I'm sorry that he's given you so much grief. But hey, life can be like that sometimes and you really shouldn't let it get you down. Please though, stop texting me. I mean, I've got a pretty high limit anyway, but like I said, I'm not Brian. Laters.

Just to be absolutely sure, I took the following picture and texted that to her.



















The phone call and the picture seemed to be enough, because I got another text a few minutes later.

Calmer girl: Ok, Im Wrong... I Got The Numbers Mixed Up. Im So Sorry and Am So Embarrassed. Please Forgive Me About All This? It Wont Happen Again... Sorry

Apparently she was sorry enough to capitalize all but one of the words. It was an honest mistake, and I replied as such.

Me: It's okay. I hope you get the bastard good if he is cheating on you though. Have a nice day :)

Her: U too! Sorry about that once again.

Obviously I won't share the number, but I also won't share the name of the poor girl who felt the need to so vocally (textually?) lash out at whoever this asshole Brian is, or 'B' as his friends and loved ones like to call him. If only all wrong numbers could be this hilarious.