Books: A Man's Best Friend

I spent all day working on my website today. It's still not where I'd like it to be, but it's steadily getting there.

Well, midterms are now officially over, and I don't have to go back to school until Wednesday rolls around. This fact makes me smile, as that means this weekend I will likely be able to finally fix up my apartment just the way I like it.

...

I love to read, and it shows. Besides an increased vocabulary, my love of reading has transformed one of my rooms into an immense library, and it is filled to the brim with books of every genre. Most of the books I own have been read multiple times, and they are all among my favorites. If I had more money, I'd buy even more -- but I could never buy all of the books that I desire. In fact, the one place I visit more often than any other is Barnes & Noble... I rarely buy from them, but I often spend my off days there reading in one of the corners of the store. I also go to the library near-religiously. Every three weeks I pick out a dozen or so books that I've yet to read, and although half of them usually turn out to be boring, I find quite a few gems every once in a while.

...

Have you ever read Flatland, by Edwin Abbott Abbott? It is a classic fiction written to illustrate the very realistic idea of dimensional theory. Abbott portrays a two-dimensional planar world inhabited by regular geometric figures such a squares, triangles, and pentagons. The main character, a square, happens across two worlds very different from his own; the first is a one-dimensional linear world inhabited only by line segments and the second is the three-dimensional world that you and I live in. The story very clearly demonstrates the possibilities of higher dimensions in a way that even a schoolchild would understand and enjoy.

I first read this story while I was in the ninth grade, and it was eye-opening to me at that age. Up to that point, I had never truly considered the idea of higher dimensional phenomena... But after reading Flatland, my mind was ripe for imaginative thoughts on the subject. A few days after completing the book, I was still contemplating the complexities of the situation, and one thing in specific happened that I recall even to this day.

I was standing at the very end of the lunch line in the cafeteria at my school. I was the absolute last person in line because I was slow in walking to the lunch room that day. The whole time I had been thinking about the ramifications of higher dimensional theory, but I had never really grasped the idea completely. As I walked through the line, I continued my thoughts and placed food onto my plate. However, because I was thinking so very hard, I accidentally dropped a tater tot (piece of fried diced potato) onto the floor. Distractededly, I leaned down to retrieve the tater tot, intending on transferring it to the trash can near by. However, as I knelt, an image formed in my mind. I imagined the idea of looking at the tater tot before me in a higher dimension.

I imagined that somehow I could see the other side of the tater tot -- the side touching the floor. But not in lieu of the side that was facing me; instead, I imagined seeing all of the outside of the tater tot at once. In my mind, the tater tot had been flattened, so that I could see both sides. But I didn't stop there.

Supposedly, there is a way of viewing the inside of the tater tot while still seeing all of the outside, and so I tried imagining that, as hard as it sounds. And to take it a step further, my mind went on to imagine that in order to accomplish this, I didn't need to break the skin of the tater tot, or flatten it or even turn it around. All I needed to do was look at it from a direction that is perpendicular to the three standard direction of north/south, east/west, and up/down. All I had to do was look in the ana/kata direction, and I would be able to see all of the tater tot -- all of the tater tot -- at once. It was then that I finally got what a higher dimension really meant.

I was so immersed in this thought that I was actually frozen there, kneeling on the cafeteria floor. Thankfully, I was spared from too much embarrassment because I was at the end of the line, but it was a very awkward moment when one of the lunch ladies broke me from my reverie and asked me if I was okay.

...

::sigh:: I am so very weird, aren't I? 

Peter David is an awesome writer. Though I am not into comics as much as other forms of literature, I have to admit that his comic book writing is absolutely wondeful. However, the reason I call him one of my favorite authors is because of his novels. They are quite simply the most involved novels I've ever read.

Sir Apropos Of Nothing is a fantasty novel starring a man who is exactly the opposite of most fairy tale novels. The humorous life that Sir Apropos leads is indicative of just how good a writer Mr. David actually is. This is especially true when you consider the style of novels that made Peter David one of my favorite authors...

Imzadi was a New York Times Bestseller. It is a ST:TNG novel that explores the romantic history between two of the major characters: Will Riker and Deanna Troi. It is the best romance novel I have ever read, and the feelings it conjures up each time I read it are so intense that at some points I am forced to put the book down while I try to calm myself and stop crying. I have reread the book so often that the cover is worn to mere pieces. There is no other book that has ever made me feel anything with such ferocity, and I can safely say that Imzadi is my favorite piece of literature of all genres, with but one exception.

My absolute favorite is The Fountainhead, by Ayn Rand. Rand really makes you think.

I don't entirely agree with Rand's idealology. But the concept behind it is sound.

The Fountainhead is the best book I've ever read. But I do not reccommend to others that they should read this book... It is not the kind of book that you just pick up and read because you're bored and want a good book. No, Rand writes in such a way that reading her work is stressful... Not because it's hard to understand, but that the characters eat at your soul, tearing and rending it to pieces, revealing what you never saw before.

The first chapter seems innocent enough... In it, Rand writes beautifully, and she describes such wonderful scenery. But that is just the first time you read it.

I have read the book numerous times. And now, when I read the first chapter, I find myself crying before I'm through the second paragraph.

I cry because Roark is laughing... He is laughing, yet I could not. Were I Roark, I would not be able to laugh, but Roark... Roark laughs.

I cry because the rocks are so beautiful. I close my eyes and picture them just as Rand described them, and it is like I am looking at heavenly rocks. It is as though the rest of the world is nothing compared to these rocks I see before me...

I know that none of this makes sense to anyone out there reading this, but this is how I truly feel.

I am crying even now, just because I am typing of it.

::sigh:: I am so very pathetic. 

Why can't I just be normal?

And yet I would hate being normal... But then I think to myself, "Anything is better than this. Anything."

My previous diary entry has a note on it saying I should become friends with someone far away that I can talk to online. In her very diary, she even talks of this as a good thing. She seems to be glad to have a friend online that she can talk to when she is too closed to let anyone else near her know her true self.

I, too, am closed. But I'm so willing to be open, if but anyone were there to be open to...

But I am too picky.

Mary is too... normal.

Sure, she's a great person and all, but...

I mean, she's intelligent, beautiful, and very nice. But she is not the kind of person I want to talk to.

Why is that? What fault could I possibly find in her? What is it that makes me not like her?

I honestly don't know.

The problem is compounded if I befriend someone far away. How am I to know them if I cannot even see them? How do I know they are real?

I don't even know if I'm real anymore.

::sigh::

But perhaps she is right. Perhaps I should make a friend far away from me, where our two lives will never intermix.

Maybe then I might be happy.

You never know till you try, right?

(c:

Micro-Biology & Quantum Physics

Today I viewed an exhibit put on by artist Bonita Day. It was... quite unique. She used microbiology as the subject of her works, and she intermixed them with human technologies.

One of her creations takes electrical conduit and jumbles it around a grand piano in such a way that she is mimicking strands of ribonucleic acids.

It is very weird.

Another sculpture is of a wall built of blocks, but the faces on each side of each block are missing. Inside some of the blocks are ceramic 'chromosomes', the building blocks of life. Get it? Building blocks inside building blocks.

Heh.

Needless to say, I did not enjoy her exhibit very much. It was just not my kind of thing, I guess. It reminded me too much of abstract art, even though she was modeling her sculptures after actual things.

::sigh::

Oh, and she also had an interesting painting on a wood panel; the panel was divided into four sections, three of which depicted micro-organisms while the fourth showed a virus. The title of the panel was: One of These is Not Like the Other.

But what bothered me the most was not the creations themselves, but the prices on them. For example:
Cell Nest, Ceramic and found electrical hardware, 1999 -- $1500
Conduit: Transverse Sections, Ceramic and electrical conduit, 2001 -- $4500
Segment: Genetic Continuum, Ceramic and copper pipe, 1999 -- $4500
Tissue: Structure for Replication Matter, Ceramic, 1999 -- $5000

I wonder if she actually sells these at those prices.

If so, then perhaps I should be an artist, too. I wonder what I could get for some of my abstract creations...

...

My library books are overdue. I'm discouraged because I haven't yet finished reading them. What with starting to keep an online diary and midterm exams and all, I just haven't had the time.

19 credit hours is a lot more than I thought it would be.

Yet at the same time, I find myself wishing for more classes. I could handle more, I think; and it would allow me to learn so much more...

::sigh::

I'm being wistful again, aren't I? I always turn back to that old standby, whether I choose to or not.

I'm currently reading Michio Kaku's Introduction To Superstrings. I know about Superstrings already, but not on a mathematical level, and that is what this book is explaining to me.

I love physics, but sometimes it just makes my head hurt.

Lots of things are like that, I guess. Like ice cream, Magic, and Axis & Allies. Even StarCraft makes my head hurt after eight hours straight of playing.

Too much of a good thing...

::sigh:: And so I sigh. Again. Despite the fact that I realize that I sigh way too often.

::sigh::

I've been working on my website the past couple of days. It's really turning out well, I think. I only hope that I can get it to be as I want it before too long.

Being at college is weird... It's like I have so much free time, and yet I have none at all.

Ironically, although superstring theory is supposed to provide a unified field theory of the universe, the theory itself often seems like a confused jumble of folklore, random rules of thumb, and intuition. This is because the development of superstring theory has been unlike that of any other theory, such as general relativity, which began with a geometry and an action and later evolved into a quantum theory. Superstring theory, by contrast, has been evolving backward for the past 20 years. It has a bizarre history, beginning with the purely accidental discovery of the quantum theory in 1968 by G. Veneziano and M. Suzuki.

Thumbing through old math books, they stumbled by chance on the Beta function, written down in the last century by mathematician Leonhard Euler. To their amazement, they discovered that the Beta function satisfied almost all the stringent requirements of the scattering matrix describing particle interactions. Never in the history of physics has an important scientific discovery been made in quite this random fashion.

Superstring theory is fun... It's like a giant puzzle; nothing makes sense, yet the equations always work. There's got to be some basic underlying theme, but no one seems to know what it is.

It's like we're getting a sneak peek into the future... It is as though general relativity had been discovered in the seventeenth century; all the equations would work out great, but nobody would have the slightest clue as to what was going on. It is as though we know something that we weren't supposed to figure out for a long, long time...

I love physics. But at the same time, physics depresses me.

I have no one to talk physics to.

I remember, long ago, I'd lay down on the floor and work physics problems, trying to recreate with my own hand what Einstein did one hundred years before me. My friends would be around me, and despite the fact that they weren't really into physics, they still talked and argued with me while I lay on that floor, scribbling notes on the back of envelopes. They were my sounding board; they kept me sane.

Those were the good old days.

But now, I have no one. My friends are away, not by their doing, but rather by mine. So I have none to blame but myself.

I could call Greg, I guess. He's always been there for me in the past. He is, in many ways, my best friend. But even as I think this thought, I shy away from the telephone.

Why? Why am I avoiding my friends?

"I'm not avoiding them."

Yes, I am. You're not busy right now. Why not spend time with them?

"Because I'm writing in my diary."

Then what about afterward?

"I need to go to sleep afterwards. I need my rest."

But --

"No. I will call my friends later."

::sigh::

I can't even win an argument against myself. How pathetic is that?

Well, at least I am writing my thoughts here. At least I am not avoiding myself.

At least you will listen to me, won't you, my diary?

::sigh::

"...sleep, perchance to dream..."

Magic: The Gathering

The first time I saw a Magic card was on June 22, 1996 in the early afternoon. I was at a summer school type program at a boarding school. There were two people there playing, and while it did catch my attention for a second or so, I only spent a short moment watching them, something on the order of around twenty seconds. The only thing I remember clearly while I watched them is that one guy moved a big stack of cards (the top of which said Swamp on top) and played a Fireball. I don't remember anything else about the incident at all. On this, my first encounter with Magic, I do not recall noticing creatures, life totals, or even a mountain for that Fireball that he cast. I just remember Swamps and a Fireball. 

(I remember the date and time precisely because later on that same day I was expelled for being caught with a girl in my dorm room. This also explains why Magic only caught my attention for a second or so rather than a longer period of time. I was a bit ... preoccupied at the moment.)

Months later, as I was visiting with my best friend, Phoenix, he told me that during his summer he had learned a game from his cousin called Magic. He had three decks worth of cards, and between him, Kevin, and myself, we played quite a bit. About a month later, Phoenix took us to get our first decks. Unlike my first encounter, I remember this quite clearly. We were in a department store at the mall, and we had the option of either buying a starter deck of Mirage or Fourth Edition. Kevin and I both decided upon Mirage, mostly because the box looked cooler, I think. 

(Greg's cousin ripped him off [immediately after teaching him Magic]. Greg opened an Icy Manipulator out of a starter deck of Ice Age and his cousin convinced him to trade it to him for a Carrier Pigeons. Yes, a Carrier Pigeons. "They both cost four mana," Greg later explained to me.)

After purchasing our new cards, we went to Chick Filet (a local fast food restauarant) in the mall to play with our cards. It was great fun, though phasing was a bit weird at first. I lost almost every game, though... Kevin had an 4/3 Islandhome Kukemsa Serpent that he got out every game and I was always the only other person with Islands in my deck. So naturally, I was always attacked by the huge monster. 

I liked the game from the very beginning, but what I didn't realize then was that as time went on, Magic would become more and more important to me. My friends and I bought more and more cards, amassing a collection that is usually unheard of for players at that skill level. We rarely played in tournaments, and when we did, we almost never won a game. My skill level didn't really improve at first; after getting adequate cards, my first decks were always blue and artifact heavy. But remember, this was before Urza's Saga made blue artifact decks playable. I played with Islands, Urza's Lands, Aladdin's Rings, Collossus' Of Sardia, and good old Power Sinks. 
Of course, our rules knowledge was decidedly sub-par. We followed that old dictate that whenever a card's text broke the rules, we followed the card text rather than the rules. And boy did those Fourth Edition Power Sinks have a lot of rules breaking card text. First, you have to understand that pre-Sixth Edition rules, Power Sinks couldn't be responded to with Instants, and the intended meaning was that if you didn't pay the X, then you had to tap all your lands. But the Fourth Edition Power Sink didn't word it quite correctly. Rather it said, "Counter a target spell if its caster does not pay X. Target spell’s caster must draw and pay all available mana from lands and mana pool until X is paid; he or she may also pay mana from other sources if desired." 

The most interesting omission on the card's rules text was that it did not state the words "until end of turn". It said only that if you didn't pay X, you had to pay "until X is paid." We rules geniuses interperted that as if X were 5 and you only had three lands, then they all got tapped. Then, when your next turn came around, you had to tap two more. 

And that's why I loved those Power Sinks. I thought the best combo in the world was Power Sink plus the Urzatron. And when Weatherlight came out and I had access to Sisay's Rings and the like, sometimes I could dominate the board position completely. On the fourth turn, when my opponent would play their first spell, I'd already have out an Island, the Urzatron, and perhaps a Sol Ring or two. The following Power Sink would effectively shut them out for the next three turns. And then, on turn eight, when they tap out for their Shivan Dragon or other similarly scary creature, I'd Power Sink for twenty plus. Seeing as how they have only six lands out and they're already tapped out, it would take them five turns to recover. 

But I was hungry for more. I needed more mana, and I looked everywhere for it. I even played two Teferi's Isles. I don't know how I was able to manage it, but at one point I recall I had just cast an Aladdin's Ring, and my opponent, Phoenix, asked me how much I could Power Sink for. He had something like eight lands out at the time. I replied as I physically counted the cards. "Well, I already paid to untap my Collosus earlier this turn, and if I use my two Aladdin's Rings on your two blockers to kill them, I will have just enough left to Power Sink for about fifty." Needless to say, I won that game.

(I think I was able to accumulate this much mana because [back then] I didn't think the four of a kind rule applied to lands -- as opposed to not applying just to basic lands. Therefore, I played a hell of a lot of Urza's Towers in my 90+ card deck.)

Often one of our decks would completely dominate all the others in our little play group, but every time we went to a tournament, we horribly lost. Well, that's not entirely true. Clay once had an awesome Tim deck sporting not only the conventional Tim / Grandpa Tim / Pirate Tim / Minotaur Tim / Tim-On-A-Stick tricks, but also Shadow Guildmage, Reveka, and Norrit. It always won in our play group because of the efficient mana cost of the creatures (three is a good mana cost when everybody else plays only five and six mana monsters) and because every one of his creatures doubled as creature destruction. 

We were so excited when he brought it to the tournament. We were absolutely positive that it would beat everything else there. But despite our optimism, imagine our surprise and enthusiasm when it actually won the first round! I don't even remember what Clay had played against, but whatever it was, he demolished it! 

Going into the second round, we all gathered around Clay's table. He was the first of our playgroup to ever make it this far in the local tournaments. His opponent was playing a mono black build. We watched as they shuffled. Clay's face was filled with pride as he shuffled, fully intending upon winning the whole tournament with his awesome deck. 

Clay won the die roll and went first, dropping an Island. He was off to a great start, I remember thinking, since most of his Tims were blue. Then it was his opponent's turn. 

Out came a Swamp, followed by a Dark Ritual. He played a Black Knight. "Oh, man..." Clay knew that this probably meant he was going to lose this battle. But when I looked at his opponent's face, I knew that was only the beginning. Clay wasn't just going to lose. Clay was going to get his ass handed to him on a platter. 

A second Dark Ritual was played, which allowed an Unholy Strength and a Bad Moon to hit the table. A 5/3 pro-white first striker with a Bad Moon on the board on the first turn. It was horrible. I couldn't bear to look at Clay's face, and instead my imagination came up with all kinds of twisted contortions it must have been going through. Clay's opponent gave a little chuckle and said, "Go." 

I sure do miss the good old days... 

(c;

A Percussionist's Thoughts

When I was very young (probably around five or so), my father bought me a drum set. At the time, he played guitar often with his friend Kenneth, and I believe he thought that by buying me such an instrument at such a young age, I might be able to become good enough at drumming to play with him and his buddies. Unfortunately, very soon after, his work became overbearing, and he played guitar less and less often, and I thusly played the drums very rarely, and never really got very good at them.

Now fast forward a few years. I attended Robert E. Lee Elementary in Satsuma, Alabama from third grade to fifth grade. In my final year there, the Nelson Adams Middle School band in Saraland, AL came by to recruit new band members for the upcoming year. I was interested, so I signed up for drums, since I obviously already had a drum set. I didn't know it at the time, but the decision made then in fifth grade to become a drummer in middle school was one of the most influential moments of my life.

You see, before this time, I spent the majority of my time either with my parents, my grandparents, or my two friends, Jeremy and Gregory. I was friends with Jeremy because he lived next to my parents' house, and I was friends with Gregory because he lived next to my grandparents' house. I didn't really listen to music with either of my friends, so I didn't come to like music through them. Neither did I learn to like music at my grandparents' house -- they both preferred the television to any particular radio station. And at my own parents' house, I listened only to what my parents listened to, namely rock and very light metal. As you can well see from this, I wasn't exactly very cultured in music at all.

But because I went into percussion in middle school, I became exposed to music the likes of which I had never even considered before. I fell in love with classical music from the very beginning. Soon after, I became aware of other styles, most notably big band jazz. And because my ears were finally open, I searched out even more diverse music and found that the world of music is just as wonderful and entertaining as any other art form could ever hope to be.

Having the teacher that I did really helped a lot. My band director's name was Mr. David Ellis, and he was in my opinion the best that a band director can actually be. During my years there, he put together a symphonic and jazz band so good that when I transferred over to the Satsuma High School band, I could tell that I was taking a step down, rather than up. In fact, our middle school band was so impressive that we were actually invited to play at Carnegie Hall. It was quite an honor.

However, I personally was never really all that good as a drummer. Some that I have talked to blame my teacher, but I do not, especially considering what he did with the rest of the band. You see, in those days I got straight A's on my report cards without even trying, and I rarely worked hard for anything in my life. Because I was brought up having it so easy, I never really learned that you have to work for some things. That is why I believe I wasn't very good at drums. I will admit that Mr. Ellis rarely spent any time working with the drummers during my middle school days, but that is understandable, as most band directors have an inner dislike for the percussion section. Personally, I believe that is why percussionists make the best band directors -- but that is really just idle speculation, and I have nothing more than circumstantial proof to back that argument.

As a drummer, I was not required to do or learn as much as any of the other students did, and I believe that is what made me stick with it. I honestly believe that if I had chosen trumpet instead, I would have been too discouraged by not being the best in class, and I would have quit. Being a drummer really helped in that respect since all of the other drummers were really much worse than I was, with the exception of Dustin (who eventually quit) and Trent Geringer, but the subject of Trent is another story entirely.

Because of the obvious lack of attention generally brought to the drummers, after I quit high school, I decided to help out in my old middle school. The new band teacher there is named Ron Thacker, and I knew him previously from his work as assistant band director at Satsuma High School during my sophomore year. My argument was simple: in middle school, the director has to teach the entire class a great deal, but more so for the horns and woodwinds than for percussion. Percussionists don't need to learn scales; rather, they should spend their time learning more challenging time signatures and more advanced notation techniques, as well as chop building. A single band director is really unequipped to handle such things, because when he works the group all at once, he has to stay at the lowest common denominator for the whole class, and almost by definition, the drummers are going to be innately held back. Therefore, Mr. Thacker allowed me to help him out in the classroom one day a week with the drummers. It was a fun time, but it got pretty complicated after a while for a volunteer job, so I stopped doing it.

I miss teaching them. If I could do it again and get paid $15 an hour for two hours a week for it, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I'm too cheap to volunteer there any longer.

I wonder if this makes me greedy...

::sigh:: I hope not.

Love & Physics: An Obsession

I once had a friend called Emp. He was a very intelligent man, and I honestly think he knew me better than any other person, even myself. But he was smart enough not to say what he knew to my face, and I was smart enough to realize that he wasn't saying it.

Then I stopped hanging around him as much.

I guess I should use the word 'so' instead of 'then' in the above sentence, but I don't believe that I ws fully cognizant of it being 'so' and not 'then' at the time. I just wasn't smart enough to realize what I myself was doing by distancing myself from Emp.

But I bet he knew.

Of course, I'm a different man now. Most, if not all of the thoughts I had then are quite different from the thoughts I have now. But that does not mean that I didn't think those thoughts; it just means that I no longer think them.

At least I think I don't think them.

But how can I truly be sure? How do I know that I'm not just fooling myself as well now? Isn't it possible that instead of me now not doing what I did, I actually am doing what I did so well that now even I am fooled by it?

Wow, what a question, huh?

::sigh::

"Acceptance is perfection; understanding is love."
-- Ashley Saxon

Ashley is a girl that I knew for only a short while, and yet this quote of hers is one that I will remember for a lifetime. This very clearly demonstrates the superiority of love over even lofty perfection, and it exemplifies what one is truly working towards if one is looking for love.

I recognize truth here... And yet I struggle to define truth. How does one believe without proof?

Very carefully, that's how.

"Nature uses only the longest threads to weave her patterns, so each small piece of her fabric reveals the organization of the entire tapestry."
-- Richard Feynman

Dr. Feynman was in my opinion the best physicist of the latter half of the twentieth century. I like him especially because he not only was good at physics, but he was good at explaining physics, which is a completely different thing. This short quote of his states in the simplest manner the very basis of reality itself. Statements rarely are more impressive than that.

"In the end, they will beat you. Sooner or later they will see you for what you are... I know that you will fail. There is something in the universe -- ... some spirit, some principle -- that you will never overcome... The spirit of man."
-- Eric Blair (Orwell), 1984

The emotion in these words more clearly demonstrates the innate 'rightness' of certain inalienable things. Perhaps it is merely a whimsical childhood dream that I never really got over, but I cannot help but to believe (or at the very least, wish to believe) in the idea of 'goodness' as an actual thing. While I realize many worthless wars have been fought over ideas of righteousness, I still cannot help but feel that there has to be an absolute somewhere. At heart, you see, I am still am a classical physicist.

Doublespeak... Cognitive dissonance... Schizophrenia... No matter the name, the end result is the same.

::sigh:: It hurts to feel one way about a thing, and yet to know the opposite is likely true. It hurts badly.

"Love and be loved. All else is secondary."

This line is as succint as they come, and it reveals the only truth left to the scientific community. Sadly, there are those that have even lost this in their quest for knowledge. I very nearly have, and that is why I must remind myself so very often of the power of love.

"There will be no heavy duties. Your job is, every time I say something, contradict me with the strongest possible arguments."
-- Wolfgang Pauli, to his new assistant.

Pauli (of exclusion principle fame) states here what I would consider a dream job. Indeed, the very idea of it is so alluring that my idea of a perfect future wife would do just what Dr. Pauli said here.

"For in much wisdom is much grief, And he who increases knowledge, increases sorrow."
-- Ecclesiastes 1:18

This is my favorite quote from the bible. It reminds me of the nature of biblical studies, and it very clearly demonstrates a truth that is impossible for those who read it to truly understand. I personally believe that it is one of the truest statements ever stated... If you'd like to know why, feel free to ask me, but be prepared for quite a discussion.

::sigh::

My theology midterm is on Thursday, and I have yet to even start studying for it.

::extra-long sigh::

I am so very eternally stupid...