Friends are like cactuses.
They’re both prickly and hard to eat.
They’re both prickly and hard to eat.
Why yes they are. What an astute observation.
“Why are they terrible?” asks ‘that guy.’
“Well, you,” I respond. “Transferring many, many complicated thoughts about a subject onto paper just doesn’t work for me. Words are just too constrictive for me to accurately convey what I think about a certain subject. Whether an English essay or an essay on some AP test, they’re all terrible.”
“Oh,” says ‘that guy’ again. “Well, I know that I can write well and accurately convey my thoughts on paper. And I know several other people who can, too.”
“Well whoop-de-doo, assmonkey,” is my final response.
I hate essays. They are awful inventions of teachers because no one has yet invented a machine that can interpret thoughts and see if we know enough about a subject to skip the essay part of out lives. Boo.
Also: Yes, I do have internal dialogues about things. And yes, that is a transcript of what was said…in my thoughts.
Can anyone understand languages?
I feel that question needs some explaining. I don’t mean understand languages like “Oui, je parle français” or “Да, я говорить на русском,” or “Ja, ich spreche Deutsch.” I mean understand languages like how they evolved; how some languages get really specific for certain things while others are general. Take, for instance, some differences between French and English (those being the only two I partly understand): French has (I think) six words (partir, sortir, laisser, quitter, et cetera) for what is a single word in English (leave). Similarly, English has three words (can, may, will) for a single french word (pouvoir). Now there are many examples in many other languages that I don’t know nor have any interest in learning.
Often, I forget that there are people on the Earth (and every-so-often, a couple thousand feet above it) who don’t speak English. “Wow,” some of you are probably thinking right now, “that’s incredibly ignorant. I can’t believe that someone like that exists!” And you’re right, it is ignorant, but I just have a difficult time imagining that there are people who don’t understand the words that I’m writing right now. Words with which I grew up. Words that I have been speaking almost my entire life. Words that make complete and total sense to me when not spoken by a member of the tea-party (politic joke, check).
It took me almost a year after starting French class to fully acknowledge that this thing that I was failing to understand is a viable way to communicate. I originally thought that it was just a massive practical joke that the country of France was playing on me. Turns out, French (and other languages) are not just jokes, but rather they are legitimate forms of communication. Sometimes, things that are this simple just blow my mind.
For all who don’t know, I say the word Nationals to represent the 58th annual National Junior Classical League convention at Eastern Kentucky University, Richmond, Kentucky, USA, North America, Northern Hemisphere, Earth, Four Rocky Planets, Local System, Milky Way, Universe. A location to which I’ve assimilated, unfortunately. This year, Nationals lasted for the longest five days ever. It felt as though each day was three years long. Yet somehow, as with all great things, it was over far too quickly. NJCL is very important to me. It has helped my emerge from my metaphorical shell, introduced me to several amazing people from around the country (and one crazy from Tennessee), and caused my somewhat disturbing commitment to the classics (e.g. my name is GraecaMagna).
This year, as always, was amazing. It was also a year of firsts: first time I was Mao Master (it’s a long story); first time I sat in on an incredibly awkward lunch (it’s a longer story); and the first time I went to, and had fun at, a dance (it’s not a particularly long story, but I don’t really want to explain it).
There are many other hilarious and hilariously awful stories of this year’s convention, but those have been branded with the classic “you had to be there”…um…brand. Or, since I’ve assimilated, “all y’alls shuda been at dat dere lokashun.”
Here’s what I don’t understand:
So New York very recently legalized gay marriage. Yeah! Go NY! Big Apple! Hooray, and all that. The New York Senate is controlled by the GOP. The GOP don’t traditionally support gay marriage. Now I’m not saying that it’s weird that the law passes, I mean every once in a while the Republicans (who are actually democrats but that’s a different rant) have to get something right, right? It’s the law of probability or some shit like that. The thing that I specifically don’t understand is that gay marriage is illegal in California. California, the state that contains what is probably the most liberal city to ever exist in human history, San Francisco. The state that bears the brunt of all the other state’s liberal jokes in the same way that Texas and Alabama bear the brunt of all the other state’s redneck/southern jokes. The state where thousands of people break federal law EVERY FUCKING DAY, BUT AREN’T ARRESTED BECAUSE IT’S NOT AGAINST THE FUCKING STATE LAW (eg. possession of “medical” marijuana). The state where democrats have controlled both the state senate AND the state assembly for 15 years. (I need not remind you that democrats are generally for gay marriage).
But no, gay marriage is not legal here. Why? Because all the bigoted assholes who apparently make up more than 50% of the voting public don’t believe that some people should be allowed to marry, JUST BECAUSE OF WHO THEY LOVE! Let me ask you something: how is that fair? Why should someone be denied something just because of who they are? It’s like the civil rights movement all over again (minus the separate bathrooms and schools). I would think that more people would be able to realize that we are oppressing homosexual people. It may not be as obvious as it was in the past with black people or native americans, but it is happening. And it is up to us to put a stop to it because apparently no one else will admit that it is happening.
And I’m going to assume you know the rest of the story because if you don’t, you obviously have never seen a romantic comedy.
les-animauxx-deactivated2011073 asked: How did u find me??
I’m a freaking ninja.
Do you ever think about why people play? Like, what am I accomplishing while shooting Nazi zombies in the face with my Olympia shotgun and M16 assault rifle? Am I discovering cold-fusion? No. Am I finding an alloy that could serve as the first room-temperature super conductor? Also, no. Am I finding the books and manuscripts and scrolls that were lost in the razing of Alexandria? God, what do you take me for, a fudging idiot? NO, moron, I’m not doing any of those things. I’m shooting zombies in the visage.
Unfortunately, video games are awesome. “What?” you think. “Why is that unfortunate? You, being a stupid monkey-child, must have accidentally written ‘Un’ in front of ‘fortunately.’” “Dumbass,” you think of me. Well, I’ll explain why I said “unfortunately.” I said it because the awesomeness of games detracts from the regular beauty and whatever of the real world. If I play a game like Portal or Ratchet, and see amazingly designed characters, mythologies, and (in the latter) enemies, I then must enter the real world, which is filled with boring cars, and boring streets, and boring buses, and boring chairs, and boring countries, and boring super-scarlet fever, and boring Javelin missile launchers. At the same time, my mind is thinking of the humor present in both games or the story of one of the other, and I think to myself, “WHY ISN’T MY LIFE AS FUNNY/ADVENTUROUS/VIOLENT/FUN?” (yes, I think in caps). This thought process distracts me from my real world stuff (eg having friends, having a girlfriend, or doing well in school).
Thus, my life starts to suck more, which, in turn, drive me back into video games, which makes my life such more, which pushes me back into video games, et cetera. Recently, however, I’ve had the foresight to stop playing games for a while and, in fact, plan trips avec mes amis during the summer (among other things).
In conclusion, blowing the ever-loving shit out of Nazi-Communist Zombies is better than real life.