This is what the internet is all about. A shame I can't type properly.
Apr 28, 2008
Apr 26, 2008
Goodbyes
Well gosh darn it.
When I got the invitation to my undergraduate convocation, I put the registration envelope in the garbage. I wasn't going to be there -- a trip to Asia awaited -- and frankly, I wasn't big on the pomp and circumstance associated with the ceremony anyways. It came and went with nary a thought.
Recently, I got the invitation to my post-graduate convocation, and again, I put the envelope in a drawer, giving myself some leeway but pretty much planning not to go. Again, I never did see the point.
But you know, it really takes seeing people to realize that you'll actually miss them. The hardest part is there is no naivete in us anymore because we're at the age that life has already impressed itself on us. For the vast majority of my classmates, we may never see each other again, and we know it.
It's a strange feeling, saying goodbye to someone for ostensibly the last time. I've grown so comfortable with the people I know at this stage of my life that saying farewell isn't a common occurrence. Doing it about 15 times in one night...well, that's something else.
To the nights I don't remember, but the people I always will.
Apr 22, 2008
Evolution
For some reason, I watched an entire episode of House tonight. He kept talking about how people don't change (only to believe in people's abilities to change at the very end).
My thoughts while watching were two-fold.
1) In terms of plot, House is pretty much medical power rangers. Every week the same formula happens. I kept waiting for Rita to make the monster in the patients body big.
2) The chick from the OC is much, much hotter than sweater-vest girl. And for some reason she apparently plays a bisexual -- again. I've heard of typecasting, but this might be a little bit too pigeonholed even for television actors...
3) To be honest, I'm not entirely convinced people can change. I think we can learn to change how we react to who we are, but not necessarily who we are. By this, I mean you might always want a certain thing, but instead of giving in, just learn to discipline yourself to act differently on those same impulses (which always remain the same).
I can see how that could still be defined/interpreted as change.
But I could also see how it could not be.
On another note, I've been playing basketball at the YMCA lately and there's this one old guy who's there every single night. I can't figure out what he does -- he's old enough to be retired. But man. Whatever reason he's there all the time, it's either incredibly admirable, or incredibly depressing.
Funny how there's no gray area with that one eh?
Apr 17, 2008
Mutant powers
When I got my wisdom teeth removed in high school, I chalked my utter lack of recovery time as a fortunate matter of happenstance.
In retrospect however, I concede there has been a history of either playing sports through injuries, or simply healing quickly in my daily scratches and nicks. But I never thought it was unusual per se.
Until this week, when I played basketball and was (again) pushed into a wall while in mid-air. I sprained my right ankle and bruised my left heel, but was able to tighten my shoe laces and just play the rest of the night relatively unencumbered.
Upon untying my shoes at the end of the night, I realized that my ankles were in severe pain. I had trouble driving, and by the time I got home I couldn't put weight on my right ankle without sharp jabbing pain. It had noticeably swollen already, and I couldn't even sleep on that side of my body because it hurt to torque it with even the weight of just my foot.
Anyways, I woke up this morning still swollen and limping. I was in pain, but much better than the night before although still unable to apply too much weight to my right ankle.
I went to work, and had a relatively normal work day. Some time around 2pm, I realized that although I definitely felt a little sore, I seemed to suddenly be completely pain free. I did some quick movement, and lo and behold my ankle seems to be completely healed, and the bruise on my other foot is a bit tender, but nothing to really write home about.
In short, I have exhibited freakish mutant Wolverine powers over the course of a single day.
Naturally, I will only use my abilities for good, not evil, and embrace the responsibility that comes with great power.
Good day.
Apr 16, 2008
Foul I say!
Upon flipping through the television universe, I stumbled upon Dancing with the stars (in HD) last night and stopped to see what the big hoopla was about.
I noticed that the celebrity dancer was Kristi Yamaguchi.
Now, I won't claim to be an expert on dancing nor figure skating. However, does it not seem just a weeeee bit unfair to be pitting an Olympic calibre figure skater whose sport involves complicated footwork (some might even call it... dancing?) and athletic prowess while wearing a sequined outfit, all while choreographed to music... against the likes of say, an NFL player, or hollywood actress?
Isn't that kind of like having a celebrity mandolin contest, except a world famous ukulele player is allowed to participate?
If I was Shannon Elizabeth, I'd be pissed off.
Also, I would feel like Dancing with the Stars was rigged.
Apr 7, 2008
kill me now
Things I did today:
Wake up.
Make coffee.
Drink coffee.
Drop off softball gear for people.
Eat lunch.
Make coffee.
Drink coffee.
Eat dinner.
Shower.
I even staged a Facebook photo tonight. If that isn't the mendoza line for boredom, I don't know what is.
Apr 6, 2008
Strings & Things
The funny thing about stereotypes is that sometimes they can be accurate.
With the recent changes to CBC Radio 2 and the disbanding of the CRO, classical music fans have come crawling out of the woodwork (and woodwinds) to protest what the have decried as the sullying of the CBC's mandate to the arts.
Exhibit A for why many folks think these whiners are snobs, taken from the letters section of the Globe & Mail:
Please. Come off your pedestal and join us philistines and our good friend Leslie Feist.
Sometimes it's fun to slum it a little, y'know?
With the recent changes to CBC Radio 2 and the disbanding of the CRO, classical music fans have come crawling out of the woodwork (and woodwinds) to protest what the have decried as the sullying of the CBC's mandate to the arts.
Exhibit A for why many folks think these whiners are snobs, taken from the letters section of the Globe & Mail:
I am almost too depressed about the planned "overhaul" of CBC's Radio 2 to even write about it. What's the point? We've all seen the writing on the wall for some time now, and resistance is futile: The CBC no longer feels there is any point to devoting an entire radio station to the more musically and intellectually complex style of music colloquially, though entirely inappropriately, known as "classical" (more on that tendentious terminology in a moment), because, according to its mysterious studies, no one is interested in that any more.I'm pretty sure if I was having a real conversation with somebody and they uttered the above paragraph, I would be left with no option but to punch them in the face.
Please. Come off your pedestal and join us philistines and our good friend Leslie Feist.
Sometimes it's fun to slum it a little, y'know?
Apr 5, 2008
lightening the load
The concept of joining clubs and classes completely makes sense to me now that my schedule has devolved into what more or less is representative of regular office hours. I don't know what to do with my free time outside of going to the gym and watching sports on television.
The fact that I am resolutely content with such an existence is a story for another day.
Upon getting a haircut today, It crossed my mind what a difference it makes when someone obviously cares about doing a good job. I tipped the guy well (the actual price of the haircut was only $10, so I mean, they deserve some kudos) but it was because it was evident throughout the haircut that he really wanted to do a good job. He was meticulous, and although personally I can't tell the difference between a diligently cut head of hair and one victimized by a suck-and-cut stylistically speaking, what I definitely could discern what the effort.
I applaud effort. It's an under-appreciated trait in our hustle and bustle society for someone to take a little extra time to make sure things are held to a higher standard of quality.
The world would be a better place if we all approached our jobs with that kind of attitude.
Next week's life lesson: saying thank you when somebody opens a mall door for you.
Apr 3, 2008
gin and juice
Even if for only one day (it's not supposed to last through the weekend), the weather was nice enough that I drove the entire way home with my sunroof open.
Human beings are solar powered. This has to be some sort of scientific fact.
Apr 1, 2008
"Things we will forget by next week about Communist China..."
For a country full of Buddhist monks, Tibet has sure pissed a whole lot of people off lately.
Faster than you can say “Kosovo,” the Tibet issue has jumped to the forefront of almost every major media outlet in Toronto. It’s enough drama and back talking to make one realize the only difference between international politics and The Hills is the sobering prominence of ugly people -- although Chinese president Hu Jintao does sport some retro-chic aviator specs.
To say that coverage of the situation recently has been sensational would be like saying James Blunt is in touch with his feelings. The latest Macleans magazine features the headline “Butchers and Monsters” splashed across a photograph of a man in camouflage chasing after a Buddhist monk with a stick. Elmer Fudd would be proud.
The Globe and Mail featured a cover story over the past weekend about three Canadian women who for the last 8 years have been working to use this summer’s upcoming Olympic games as an international stage for the Tibet liberation movement. They were portrayed as heroic figures.
The Associated Press reported that China had been planting military instigators in Tibetan monasteries to pose as monks, acting as both agent provocateurs and plaintive decoys for government organized diplomatic tours of the volatile area.
It’s suddenly hip to hate on China.
As a journalist of Chinese decent, this all cumulated locally and personally when a friend of mine emailed over the weekend with video footage of the Pro-China rally taking place at Dundas square. “It’s about time,” he said, “China’s been getting such a bad rap in the media lately.” I can’t say this made much sense to me, but the words still struck an internal chord that had been nagging me for several days.
I heard the same exasperated tones from my father, who over the dinner table often wonders aloud why everyone makes the Chinese government out to be the most evil entity since the consortium that decided hotdogs would come in packs of 10 but buns in bags of eight.
The Macleans article in question calls for us to be witnesses who “make a difference” in the lives of the Chinese people. But I wonder; instead of worrying about problems nestled at the foot of the Himalayas, shouldn’t we be witnesses who make a difference in our own lives first?
How soon we forget that at the last G8 summit in Quebec, local police planted officers posing as fake protesters into the crowds? Or that when it comes to human rights violations and mindless environmental destruction, China’s track record may be horrendous, but still trails that of our friendly neighbours to the South?
The actions of the Chinese government are indefensible, to this I readily acquiesce. And to say China is getting a bad rap is like saying Rob Shneider doesn't deserve to be typecast.
But if the media is going to demand accountability, we as readers should be willing to at least do the same.
We deride our own actions, but ultimately tolerate the status quo. When it comes to change, party platforms rarely come to fruition in our quagmire of a political system.
Macleans is the same magazine that superimposed George Bush’s head onto Saddam Hussein’s body – but there aren’t too many student activists who suggest we boycott the NBA finals.
Maybe they should have shown Bush chasing an Iraqi with a stick.
Faster than you can say “Kosovo,” the Tibet issue has jumped to the forefront of almost every major media outlet in Toronto. It’s enough drama and back talking to make one realize the only difference between international politics and The Hills is the sobering prominence of ugly people -- although Chinese president Hu Jintao does sport some retro-chic aviator specs.
To say that coverage of the situation recently has been sensational would be like saying James Blunt is in touch with his feelings. The latest Macleans magazine features the headline “Butchers and Monsters” splashed across a photograph of a man in camouflage chasing after a Buddhist monk with a stick. Elmer Fudd would be proud.
The Globe and Mail featured a cover story over the past weekend about three Canadian women who for the last 8 years have been working to use this summer’s upcoming Olympic games as an international stage for the Tibet liberation movement. They were portrayed as heroic figures.
The Associated Press reported that China had been planting military instigators in Tibetan monasteries to pose as monks, acting as both agent provocateurs and plaintive decoys for government organized diplomatic tours of the volatile area.
It’s suddenly hip to hate on China.
As a journalist of Chinese decent, this all cumulated locally and personally when a friend of mine emailed over the weekend with video footage of the Pro-China rally taking place at Dundas square. “It’s about time,” he said, “China’s been getting such a bad rap in the media lately.” I can’t say this made much sense to me, but the words still struck an internal chord that had been nagging me for several days.
I heard the same exasperated tones from my father, who over the dinner table often wonders aloud why everyone makes the Chinese government out to be the most evil entity since the consortium that decided hotdogs would come in packs of 10 but buns in bags of eight.
The Macleans article in question calls for us to be witnesses who “make a difference” in the lives of the Chinese people. But I wonder; instead of worrying about problems nestled at the foot of the Himalayas, shouldn’t we be witnesses who make a difference in our own lives first?
How soon we forget that at the last G8 summit in Quebec, local police planted officers posing as fake protesters into the crowds? Or that when it comes to human rights violations and mindless environmental destruction, China’s track record may be horrendous, but still trails that of our friendly neighbours to the South?
The actions of the Chinese government are indefensible, to this I readily acquiesce. And to say China is getting a bad rap is like saying Rob Shneider doesn't deserve to be typecast.
But if the media is going to demand accountability, we as readers should be willing to at least do the same.
We deride our own actions, but ultimately tolerate the status quo. When it comes to change, party platforms rarely come to fruition in our quagmire of a political system.
Macleans is the same magazine that superimposed George Bush’s head onto Saddam Hussein’s body – but there aren’t too many student activists who suggest we boycott the NBA finals.
Maybe they should have shown Bush chasing an Iraqi with a stick.
Mar 30, 2008
old habits die hard
remember making mixtapes?
they live. make your own, if you get bored of listening to mine. share and share alike.
Mar 29, 2008
thinking green. sort of.
Skimming the weekend editions of our venerable major broadsheets, there is a noticeable difference in the way tonight's Earth Hour is being covered by our national and local newspapers.
The Star, unsurprisingly, has embraced the darkness with open (smothering?) arms, updating the top story of their website as the environmental shadow rolls through each major time zone. "Scandinavia darkens" sounds awfully ominous if you take it out of context, but I digress.
The Globe meanwhile is approaching tonight's... festivities, with a fistful of salt. Rex Murphy's op-ed piece, while hitting an awful lot of nails on the head, also manages to make him seem more sourpuss than John Lithgow was in Flashdance.
The Life section of the Globe also features a to-do list for tonight that plants its tongue so firmly in its cheek you almost expect the writer to don a Captain Planet costume tonight and run around purple-nurpling hippies.
The contrast I think speaks a lot to how we as global citizens have accepted the commodification of environmentalism. Although I also believe the reality of the situation is complex and lies in a happy medium, both views will certainly hold more than a modicum of truth up to our organic wax candles this evening.
see you in the morning.
Mar 27, 2008
petit parce que tous et jambon
Awards from Columbia University!
I said I'd never drink again.
I lied.
Mar 19, 2008
sweet googly moogly
as a testament to entry #89 of my current favourite blog, st. patty's '08 was indeed a 24-hour... surreal thompson-esque romp of hedonism, which i will not soon (if ever) forget. and rest assured it wasn't because of the parade -- although we did get to heckle rudy giuliani from spitting distance.
new york is great, but going on a giant three-day bender with 30 classmates in new york?
priceless.
and by priceless, i mean about $300.
new york is great, but going on a giant three-day bender with 30 classmates in new york?
priceless.
and by priceless, i mean about $300.
Mar 15, 2008
bringing it back to the lede
at the conclusion of a great novel, one feels disappointed that the ride is over, but would never wish that the author had tacked on an additional 100 pages just because it was a good book. no, the timing of the end is just as integral a part of the work as the very first sentence itself.
and so it was that as the wire came to a close, i was left with a palpable sense of contentment, if such a thing exists. it was the way it was meant to be, no more no less, and it was perfect in exactly that way.
it's difficult to explain the appeal of the wire not because the plot is complicated. if you were to hit the "info" button on your digital cable box, the one sentence description would sum up the series quite aptly; something along the lines of "cops and drug dealers struggle to maintain control over Baltimore city streets."
what is difficult is explaining the nuance and subtleties of the show that make it probably the most well written and thorough piece of art ever to grace a television screen.
granted, the program skews towards a heavily male demographic. but the depth with which the show is written, the broad swath of social, political and economical intricacies that it tackles successfully is simply astounding. one could easily argue that watching this show could teach you more about the cynical realities of bureaucracy and social injustice than any university course you could ever sit in on.
much has been said about the fact that the wire helps us see ourselves for who we really are, from the macro scale of urban social and infrastructure decay to the individuality of our own ethical and moral statutes. "we're writing greek tragedies," said wire creator david simon in a recent interview with the onion video club.
greek tragedies were meant to be parables however, and as such one is left to ponder the lessons the wire is trying to teach us.
you see the tragedy unfolding before you, the heroes, the pitfalls, the failures and the pariahs. so what do you take away from it?
there's not much more you can ask of a television show.
the wire said what it felt needed to be said in the most concise and eloquent way it could say it.
knowing that it came from the pen of an ex-journalist, this is an accomplishment of truly grand proportions.
naming the last episode "-30-" was something maybe not every viewer will understand. the symbol represents the end of every filed work in a newsroom, marking the final stroke of your story. that poignancy is a perfect example of the show's awe inspiring attention to detail.
what a fitting end to a wonderful work of social commentary.
and so it was that as the wire came to a close, i was left with a palpable sense of contentment, if such a thing exists. it was the way it was meant to be, no more no less, and it was perfect in exactly that way.
it's difficult to explain the appeal of the wire not because the plot is complicated. if you were to hit the "info" button on your digital cable box, the one sentence description would sum up the series quite aptly; something along the lines of "cops and drug dealers struggle to maintain control over Baltimore city streets."
what is difficult is explaining the nuance and subtleties of the show that make it probably the most well written and thorough piece of art ever to grace a television screen.
granted, the program skews towards a heavily male demographic. but the depth with which the show is written, the broad swath of social, political and economical intricacies that it tackles successfully is simply astounding. one could easily argue that watching this show could teach you more about the cynical realities of bureaucracy and social injustice than any university course you could ever sit in on.
much has been said about the fact that the wire helps us see ourselves for who we really are, from the macro scale of urban social and infrastructure decay to the individuality of our own ethical and moral statutes. "we're writing greek tragedies," said wire creator david simon in a recent interview with the onion video club.
greek tragedies were meant to be parables however, and as such one is left to ponder the lessons the wire is trying to teach us.
you see the tragedy unfolding before you, the heroes, the pitfalls, the failures and the pariahs. so what do you take away from it?
there's not much more you can ask of a television show.
the wire said what it felt needed to be said in the most concise and eloquent way it could say it.
knowing that it came from the pen of an ex-journalist, this is an accomplishment of truly grand proportions.
naming the last episode "-30-" was something maybe not every viewer will understand. the symbol represents the end of every filed work in a newsroom, marking the final stroke of your story. that poignancy is a perfect example of the show's awe inspiring attention to detail.
what a fitting end to a wonderful work of social commentary.
Mar 12, 2008
hamster huey and the gooey kablooey
In light of this whole Spitzer scandal, I'm trying to decide if I'd be more offended to find out my spouse was cheating on me the regular way or paying for sex with a prostitute. I'm inclined to think the latter is less hurtful in terms of taking a hit to my ego, however it would also be somewhat more disturbing in that I would seriously, seriously question my judgement.
In terms of self-worth however, I think I'd definitely choose fate B given the previously mentioned option. Heck, if the prostitute was super smoking, I'd probably understand. I mean, if someone OFFERED me $4000 to sleep with them, I'd probably be like "are you nuts? I'm not worth that much."
Not to say I'm easy. Just... pragmatic.
In terms of self-worth however, I think I'd definitely choose fate B given the previously mentioned option. Heck, if the prostitute was super smoking, I'd probably understand. I mean, if someone OFFERED me $4000 to sleep with them, I'd probably be like "are you nuts? I'm not worth that much."
Not to say I'm easy. Just... pragmatic.
Mar 5, 2008
Mar 2, 2008
pbj
Alas, I am out of jelly. Looks like lunch will just be peanut butter today... that's kind of like having a car with no windshield -- it'll get the job done, but you're probably not going to like it.
We all make purchases we regret (right now, I'm looking at some Bjork concerts that were bootlegged onto VHS and a copy of Gunstar Heroes for the Sega Megadrive. Did I mention I own neither a VCR nor a Megadrive?)
I must say though that at the time, these seemed like wise purchases. I cannot fathom why.
Here is a list of things that I used to think were cool, but sadly, no longer like. (And to Dashboard Confessional -- I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me).
- FILA
- EZ Mac
- Emo music
- Television
- Second Cup
- Guitar Hero
- Alicia Silverstone (Part of me fears one day she will read this, and it will cost me my chance.)
- HTML
- Skee-ball
- Turtleneck sweaters
- Professional Wrestling
- Dragonboat racing
- Michael Moore
- Naps
Here, conversely, is a list of things I have begun to grow a new appreciation for:
- Sandwiches
Feb 27, 2008
I am going to school Sherman Hamilton
We had some good times, Humber.
I'm not going to say it was all sunshine and rainbows, but I will certainly shed a tear before i step out the door this one last time.
I will not divulge however whether it is a single tear of joy or sadness.
Here's a hint though: it won't be sadness.
See you in New York.
Kangaroo's with bicycle helmets
I feel a rant coming...
Postgraduate experiences can be dissected many different ways, but one of the most obvious and common is the distinction between staying at home for university or moving away.
Many people who stay at home for their undergrad years lament their decision post-graduation. Even greater are the number of individuals who moved away, and often feel superior as a result to their stay-at-home friends in terms of life experience.
These individuals can be identified by their dismissive hand gestures, and posited theories of "they're just making up for not moving away for university" as a universal explanation for any sort of behaviour related to post-graduate identity crises -- particularly if that behaviour involves drinking a lot and generally not being a boring adult.
Obviously these are not absolute archetypes. There are certainly stay-at-home university students who see the world with moved-away eyes and vice versa.
My thought is not so much that these delineations exist (because most of us would concede that they do), but moreso the haughtiness of moved-away eyes on their poorer and more wordly brethren.
I suppose in simplified terms, I'm talking about the existing paradigms and social constructs of "adult", "responsibility" and even "maturity". I realize this all seems terribly post-modernistic, but that really isn't what I'm getting at here. Bear with me.
My point isn't that "adulthood is whatever you make it" or any sort of frivolity. Rather I wonder more if our ideals of adulthood are not sadly, sadly misguided?
I was thinking about why I want to do what I want to do, and it occurred to me through various discussions about my chosen vocation and some political chats that the reason I feel what I am doing is important is because, well, it is important. Very very important.
All I want to do with my life is inform people. Through stories, through insight, through commentary, I want people to be educated and thoroughly understanding of the world around them from every possible angle in order to make decisions about life and their role in our global society. I feel currently we make so many of our decisions with little to no regard of the consequences of our actions.
I see blood being shed for democracy in Pakistan and Kenya, genocide being committed over the right to a fair election, and yet here in Canada we can barely get people to leave their houses to vote. Worse yet, those who do vote are often woefully ignorant of what and who they are voting for, often relegating our most sacred of civil rights to nothing more than a glorified popularity contest.
I see kids growing up (and hell, peers) who will view a youtube video 10 times before they ever watch the news, or read US magazine until it is dog-eared before they ever pick up an article in Mother Jones.
Accusations of snobbishness or not, that isn't the point. My point is that if knowledge is power, we as a generation are keeping ourselves powerless, then complaining about why our world is crumbling around us.
Why global warming? Why war? Why recession?
Why ask questions why when all you need to do is ask how?
Our definition of a mature adult is just someone who has a 9-5, raises 2.5 kid and owns a white picket fence.
But the world is bigger than your backyard, and I feel like in order to really grow up, we're going to need to realize that sooner rather than later.
Now go read a newspaper. Please.
Postgraduate experiences can be dissected many different ways, but one of the most obvious and common is the distinction between staying at home for university or moving away.
Many people who stay at home for their undergrad years lament their decision post-graduation. Even greater are the number of individuals who moved away, and often feel superior as a result to their stay-at-home friends in terms of life experience.
These individuals can be identified by their dismissive hand gestures, and posited theories of "they're just making up for not moving away for university" as a universal explanation for any sort of behaviour related to post-graduate identity crises -- particularly if that behaviour involves drinking a lot and generally not being a boring adult.
Obviously these are not absolute archetypes. There are certainly stay-at-home university students who see the world with moved-away eyes and vice versa.
My thought is not so much that these delineations exist (because most of us would concede that they do), but moreso the haughtiness of moved-away eyes on their poorer and more wordly brethren.
I suppose in simplified terms, I'm talking about the existing paradigms and social constructs of "adult", "responsibility" and even "maturity". I realize this all seems terribly post-modernistic, but that really isn't what I'm getting at here. Bear with me.
My point isn't that "adulthood is whatever you make it" or any sort of frivolity. Rather I wonder more if our ideals of adulthood are not sadly, sadly misguided?
I was thinking about why I want to do what I want to do, and it occurred to me through various discussions about my chosen vocation and some political chats that the reason I feel what I am doing is important is because, well, it is important. Very very important.
All I want to do with my life is inform people. Through stories, through insight, through commentary, I want people to be educated and thoroughly understanding of the world around them from every possible angle in order to make decisions about life and their role in our global society. I feel currently we make so many of our decisions with little to no regard of the consequences of our actions.
I see blood being shed for democracy in Pakistan and Kenya, genocide being committed over the right to a fair election, and yet here in Canada we can barely get people to leave their houses to vote. Worse yet, those who do vote are often woefully ignorant of what and who they are voting for, often relegating our most sacred of civil rights to nothing more than a glorified popularity contest.
I see kids growing up (and hell, peers) who will view a youtube video 10 times before they ever watch the news, or read US magazine until it is dog-eared before they ever pick up an article in Mother Jones.
Accusations of snobbishness or not, that isn't the point. My point is that if knowledge is power, we as a generation are keeping ourselves powerless, then complaining about why our world is crumbling around us.
Why global warming? Why war? Why recession?
Why ask questions why when all you need to do is ask how?
Our definition of a mature adult is just someone who has a 9-5, raises 2.5 kid and owns a white picket fence.
But the world is bigger than your backyard, and I feel like in order to really grow up, we're going to need to realize that sooner rather than later.
Now go read a newspaper. Please.
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