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CS people get it!

After watching The Prestige, I remember having a long conversation about the pseudophysics of the movie. (If you haven't seen it yet, I advise you to stop reading.) Essentially, when Hugh Jackman's character duplicated himself, both copies could really be considered an original, yet both were duplicates. I couldn't explain this well enough. People kept thinking that one was the original and the other was the duplicate. When I'm talking to another CS person, I don't even have to explain the concept; he'll already get it before I open my mouth.

I'd like to believe that I'm right, but I happen to know that it's just my way of looking at things. Still, my way's better.

Schmuck — I use the word constantly, and, when I use it, it's usually in the phrase “I feel like a schmuck.” It's true. I'm a schmuck. I mess up constantly. The truth is that we all mess up constantly. I just happen to admit my faults easily. Bethany once said that I'm “really good at self-reflection”.

It's true: I don't cover up my faults; I don't hide the person who I am; I don't keep my struggles a secret; I don't conceal the things that I don't have a problem with that others might not like about myself. At the same time, I don't actively flaunt them. Flaunting every detail of your life is bragging. Still, people who know me know what I deal with.

I've made a new discovery: self reflection can often just mean that you're too wrapped up in yourself that when it comes to faults and shortcomings, you're always thinking about your own faults and shortcomings.¹ I'm not talking about being judgemental towards others or calling them schmucks. I'm talking about simply listening to them. On my way back from Chicago, I had one of those moments where I just felt like I was doing too much talking and not enough listening.

Normally, I'd write some nifty conclusion here, but I'm tired, and you get the point.

1. Just like what I'm doing now.

So, I said goodbye to Shane and Jessica. It might be the last time that I ever see them. I'm sad. I might be going to SIL in Oregon this summer, so I might make a trip up to see them. Then again, they might be lost forever!

Anyway, today's lesson: don't make bets that you might not win. Now, I have to run around campus in nothing but shoes and socks.

So, these past few days, I've been in Chicago attending the Acting on AIDS Student Leadership Summit. If I had to describe my time here, I would say that I'm having a good time, but I cannot say that I'm having a fun time. The last time that I felt like this was the time that I visited Dachau when I was in Germany.

It seems that a recurring topic that keeps coming up in all of our discussions here is the topic of race. I can understand that race might play a factor with HIV/AIDS, but it just seems to me that people are too quick to blame race relations for every single problem in regards to race. We can't blame race for everything.

One thing that I absolutely cannot stand is the thought that we're all a little racist inside. I am not a racist It ticks me off that just because one two-bit schmuck says that we're all racist, we're all racist. I don't consider a person's skin colour when I make judgements about a person. No one seems to believe me.

Someone (I forget who it was.) said that deep down, we're all atheists. I know that that's not true, but, if we're willing to believe that we're racist just because someone says so, what would be wrong about someone saying that we're all atheists deep down?

Can God truly return your waisted years or is that just something that someone wrote in a song to make it sound good? Right now, I'm wishing that He would. I feel so much like a schmuck that I didn't have my act together for so long. I'm just thankful that I have it together while I'm still young.

I'm going to the land of da Bears.

Here's a question for you: Ditka versus a hurricane?

McDonald's breakfast sounds good right now.

So, February 4 — a date that will forever live in infamy… for me at least.¹

In better news, I'm an uncle again!

In more relevant stuff, I was walking with Fields on the way back from chapel this evening. The topic of the infamous JBU Bubble™. Supposedly, we students at JBU life in some sort of bubble that shields us from the rest of the world. It seems that my definition of the bubble differed from Fields' definition. My idea of this bubble was that the students on campus were somehow protected from the shady influences of the rest of the world. Fields' view of the bubble was that it was some sort of bubble that kept the needs and the problems of the rest of the world from ever reaching our eyes and ears.

Either way, I hate the concept of the bubble. For one, I don't even believe that it truly exists. Our campus is very aware of the various cultures and ethnicities that exist outside of it. However, I believe that the people on our campus are either apathetic or passive about the world's needs, and that's just as bad as if there was a bubble surrounding it. I often wonder why people here don't care about global poverty, global environmental issues, the global AIDS pandemic. I don't think that it's a lack of awareness; it's a lack of passion.

The other definition of the bubble is really different from the other definition. It seems that we're going from talking about global issues to talking about personal morality. The other definition of the bubble basically states that JBU is a community were the students are safe from the rest of the sinful world. I hate that concept too. One, it's not the way it should be. It's not a good idea to have students live in a clean, sanitised environment and then be released to the “real” world as opposed to the “fake” JBU one and then fall prey to that world. JBU is in that same world. Two, it's not the way it is. JBU was never able to prevent me from descending into the realm of shameful sexual behaviour with someone three states away.²

1. Yes, Sarah, I'm talking about you.
2. Yes, Sarah, I'm still talking about you.

I think it's safe to say that I'm dissatisfied with the way life has turned out. I really have no right to complain because I'm sure that some people would be thrilled have my life. It's ironic that I'm desiring to be in someone else's place — not someone in particular but just about anyone else.

O well, I'm probably just in one of my depressed moods with feelings of low self-esteem. Maybe, I'll feel better tomorrow.