Insidious Adaptation

Cartoon depictions of worldly desires tend to make a situation more acceptable, more tolerable, less critical. The depictions of a friendly Santa, the cartoon ghouls, the jokey turkey with a personality fighting with a can of whipped cream. The comfort of child-like nostalgia, we are trying to recapture what we once had, innocence. Not innocence in what the the world has shown you through years of experience, but in knowing God as well. Ouch, see, that is the harsh stuff we don't want to hear. However, once one looks at what nostalgia in this world is, once one pieces apart why we feel a certain way, even a good way, we tend to see through the smoke of it all. Why do this? Why look into even the good emotions and see what causes them? Why would I stare at a box of Pop-Tarts, looking into why they provide comfort, a sense of slight warmth that all is right in the world, despite knowing it isn't? Because we cannot have one side of a coin without the other. We must understan...

Gun laws, something of a debate these days. After all, when inanimate objects start to take over, killing hundreds a year, I too have my concerns. If only there was a way to understand the workings of tools that have evolved over the past few decades into these killing machines. Unfortunately, I have not come across the self-workings of a handgun, much like a hammer or the stinging steel of a blade. Therefore, I will attest to what I do know a little about, being human. Though my experience in humanism has only been 32 years, I have spent much time in this brain of mine, and in the last fifth or more helping others with what they present in their mind. This makes me nothing of an expert, however does allow me to contribute a perspective with intent to assist those who try to control. Those are left tired and angry, spreading soiled words on their children and so on. One apparent, and safer route to travel down is that of ice cream, or more specifically, ice-cream-type foods, a, ...

A bowl of oatmeal, a few eggs, this is what I chose to eat this morning before heading to the gym. A few cups of coffee, because, well, let's be honest, I am up earlier than I should be. Being tired is not a foreign concept to me, for I have either woken up early, or stayed up too late for much of my life. As many people do, I rely on what "science" tells me to do, to help remedy these problems. As a child I wanted to be better than what I was, and eventually into adulthood, I wanted to just be better than. I wanted people to think I was smart, for "look what I told you." I wanted people to like me, but more importantly, look up to me, for I was presenting as a smart person, something I always feared I wasn't. I wanted you to see everything about me that I couldn't see. I was able to take something concrete-ish like nutritional information, and provide that to people with my own unique insight to relate, to comfort, ultimately to persuade you that I ...

It’s 11AM, the day after moving. The day after I broke routine, ate various protein bars, drank way too much caffeine, consumed no vegetables, no fish, and I fear, not enough water. After all, it was a long day from 3:30AM, for I like to write, until 10PM, most of which was spent very active. At the end, to celebrate the end of moving festivities, pizza! That’s right, carb-rich, greasy, fat-laden, thyroid stimulating, za. A favorite fast food in this household, for it is fast and it is technically food, a perfect cap to an imperfect day. A way to resign the mind into a binge of sorts and into a relaxation as I convince myself, “I deserve this.” The pizza, the energy drinks, the lack of this or that, or the too much of something led to a 16-hour fast to help the system get a break from the strain of poor choices. This was hour 15. I was starving. I came around the corner of the kitchen, catching a glance of the oven timer. It was behind a few minutes, not a huge deal, however whe...