Two thoughts on the state of the nation.

This morning, while driving to the bus to internships (I take a bus from Rt 4, its faster and cheaper (enough for the drive to be worth it, even), I was listening to my morning dose of classic rock on q104.3, when I almost skidded off the road. No, I did not almost hit a deer, it was the news. Apparently some teachers are striking in New York, demanding more pay or some similar cause. Ok, good even. The mayor had issued a response to this calling their acts "Unpatriotic, and insensitive of the state of the city." I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE. I've been saying it forever now, 1984 is upon us. REALLY.

The second came as I was searching q104.3's website for the above news report (didn't find it), and came across this:Father Says Son "Loved His Country". Read it. This is a disturbing amount of intamicy being established between America and it's soldiers lost. Really, it's PR genius. His name was Robert Paulson. If this is done for every single "war on terrorism" death in combat, people will be hating the taliban like never before. It's effective as all hell.

Now realize that there is a story like that behind every taliban soldier we kill too. War is bad.

You know what's awesome? When you discover something.

I stepped on some silly puddy with my Adidas Sambas today, and When I picked it up, I noticed inside the three concentric rings under the big toe, there is a raised number, in my case 9 1/2. Upon looking inside the shoe, this is the GB, or Great Britian, shoe size. How weird is THAT?

More importantly, who among us knew it? You're all one factoid wiser, and you're all so very welcome.

Some stream of conciousness thought...

F=ma
aceleration. Change in velocity. The derivative.

Relativity.
When traveling at any constant speed in a contained (no windows) vessel, the speed is unnoticable. The Universe could very well be travelling at the speed of light (relative to...what is outside the universe..shit) in some direction, but as long as its constant, we dont feel a thing. Its all relative.

Standing on a train, its the acceleration that creates the friction force between your shoes and the floor, causing motion. Kinematics. Mechanics. Interaction.

emotion is the result of change. You are happy when things are better than the moment before. When things change, you have emotion. It's all about being relative to what was. A prince is no happier a prince than a peasant a peasant, because that is all they know. It's all in the change.

Being part of someones expereince causes change. Causes emotion. Solitary existance is changeless. But Interaction with environment, even non-living, causes change. Or does it?

The analysis which causes this emotion is something learned from interaction with other persons. Having never been told the usefulness of a yanqin, a chinese instrument, you would think it funny looking from what you've been told. Analysis is a consequence of learning. Learning is the consequence of interaction. It is change. You learn from someone...hmm, wait. You can learn the difference between two rocks by droping them on your foot. Deductive reasoning will tell you which one is better than the other for dropping on your foot, which hurts less.

A tangent: pain. Pain is perhaps the only feeling that is definite. Heidigger may have been right. It's the only way to tell if you are alive. Nerve stimulation. Pain. Living. Mosh Pits can be unbelievable like that.

emotion, the result of change.
force, the result of change.

force, the tool of interaction.
emotion...?

It's there. Somewhere. The Unified Theory for Physics and Philosophy.

all right. It's time.
It's time to cut my hair.

It's been a year now, (since you were here now...[dashboard reference, sorry]) and it's getting unruly, it's time. But instead of taking unplanned action, I am seeking input. What should I do with my hair.

First, the direction I'm going. I could easily make it a mullet or a mohawk, sick one's in fact. However, not now. Sometime in the de-evolution of my hair, that is what I am going to do, but not now. That will all be a process approaching a BIC'ing, but that is all slated for a different time, a different place. I'm actually digging having long hair, I'm enjoying it. It's my flava.

And so my plan. I am going to cut my hair so that it doesn't get into my mouth, that is a big problem that has been bothering me a lot lately. But that's about all I want to trim up front. Around back, I want to get rid of all that junk that makes it look mullet-y, basically all the hair that gets caught in the collar when I put of a shirt. Trim that up.

Problems and contradictions. The thing that makes me not-a-trendy-bastard is that I'm about an inch or three longer than everyone who's recently caught on to the long hair thing. If I cut it, I'll just fall into the crowd.

Survey says?

After spending mad doe last weekend on the noise conspiracy show, parking, CD, path, subway, etc, I was very poor = I had 3 dollars at the beginning of the week. Now I would like to note that somehow I have made a lot of money this week. On monday I won 5 dollars for having the lowest chem test grade in the class (33/44), and today I found about 4 dollars in change in my room while cleaning it. THis is good. I am no longer dirt poor. Minus some spending, I now have 9 dollars.

Things always work out.

wow.
i may have missed the hives, but wow.
we got there late, but still, wow.

The International Noise Conspiracy was. There are no adjectives to define it, and it truelly was an experience as philosophical implications of the grammical abnormality would suggest. If there was an experience to music, tinc provided it.

tinc rock it so hard, they just jive like none other, there's soul in their creation. I was just feelin' the flow. A lot of the time I was just jivin' with my eyes closed. *feeling* the music. Letting it twist me and turn me. I really felt "let go." This wasn't angry punk rock let go. This was more of a dance let go. At climactic points it did have the punk rock energy. "Capitalism Stole My Virginity" is probobly the best example of this, it jives, it flows, it rocks, and then it hits the high point, letting out anger. And the message makes sense, it has emotion. It was insane.

But the thing is, it was the experience of music. I was incredibly indifferent of my surroundings, self-absorbed, living, experiencing.

Something that hurt me was that when the singer for tinc climbed up into the balcony and was signing up there to those peeps, people in the put turned around. That kills me. What are you facing? What are you facing? Really? Why? It's about just going. Just go.

Also, I got close and chatty with the swedish chick that was running the merch booth. She was pretty cool, and had I had time to spend I woulda stayed and she probobly would have got me partying with the swedish boyz, but I had to go. T'was rough.

Another real cool thing was how tinc handled their politics. They rightfully denounced the McCarthyism that has been comming up, the militant patriotism, and asked the crowd to question why America was attacked. They criticized American media for not bringing this up, and how its become censored and taboo to talk about Americas abusive foriegn policy.

Then some people started chanting U-S-A, U-S-A. Ha! Their response was that to totally thrash that, saying that we're all humans, going along with what I believe in, that nationalism creates rifts in society. I will admit to chating three lines of Sver-ige (Swe-den).

I've come to question my Swedish "nationalism" as hypocritical of me. This is clearly a discrepancy in my existance, and I need to analyze why I say what I say, in addition to why I think nationalism is wrong. The second is rather clear, the first is shaddy.

But its late, and I'm getting up early to see laugter shoot across the sky.
Mon petit prince, ou est vous?

I'm getting kind of uneasy now that Al Queda has nuclear weapons...this is getting really worrying. It's scary because if there's a will, there's a way. A nuke hitting manhatten would probobly do a number even here. This brings back memories of viewing the collapsed world trade center from overlook drive here in my town..I'm imagining the billowing smoke replaced by a mushroom cloud. And it's scary, because it's so damn possible.

This is making me want to high-tail it to Sweden more then ever. Why even bother finishing school if I won't survive the year? How the hell do you counter this? It's unconditional killing.

Actually, this is basically where counter-warfare breaks down. You have to be socially compromising. Right now I feel like picking Bush up by the neck and saying "listen you fuck, if you don't start recognizing the hypocricy of the American establishment and it's uncouth military involvement, people are going to die, do you realize this you dumb peice of shit?! If you kill Usama, so what? He becomes a martyr. Eastern fundamentalists are looking to kill us all, and why the hell can't you get it through your thick skull that we need to end our tyranny before we can continue demanding democracy of our enemy?"

Yea, it's really getting to me, but then again i'm a neurotic fuck. I'm not going to leave for Sweden, not now. I will next summer. I would be reallly uncomfortable applying to Columbia. I'll say it, nuclear war scares the fucking shit out of me.

I did it.
I applied to college.
I applied to Deep Springs.
It's done.
wow, this feels wierd.

End War Profiteering!

I have a meeting scheduled with Mrs Cosgrove on Thursday to continue the discussion I began with her today, which ran for almost an hour. I have found it very useful even to myself as a matter of developing my own thoughts..

Power to the me.

To: patcos@bergen.org
From: Johan Ugander
Subject: Academy Publicity
Cc: johgri@bergen.org

Dear Mrs Cosgrove,

By this time you may be aware of an article published in the Bergen Record available online (http://www.bergen.com/ed/absco11200111115.htm), featuring a student of the school. I am writing to you to inquire if this article was published with the concent of the school, as I, as well as many of my peers, find that the article defamtes the principles upon which the academy was founded. The nature of the article seems to contradict the educational philosophies upon which the school was founded, and as a student of the school, I feel unfairly associated with this practice.

Frankly, I am outraged that the article was published, and intend to contact the Record with full intentions of recieving a public apology for the damage that I feel has been done to the repuation of my education. I may be one of the few purists that remain, but the article seems to have been produced and published against the principles of the academies educational model.

Please note that my grievances are indifferent of the factual misrepresentation, and even of the individual. I have no quarrel with the student, the excellent student at that, but I do have a rather large problem with the publishing of the article. The student, and her academic record, have nothing to do with my problem.

So, I am asking now, did the school had any involvment in the publication of the article?

thank you for your time, and any co-operation is greatly appreciated,
/johan ugander
AEDT 2002

PS. I found an interesting article that seems to exist only as a memory. What of the school that it reported on? It is located online at: http://www.bergen.com/ed/95/academyd.htm

It would be pretty crazy to bake cookies for a living. I think during my time off from learning I'm going to get a job at a bake shop in like nebraska for a few weeks.

There is soooo much to do. [sigh]

Writing is peculiar. By slamming my fingers against the keyboard, I created a world. It feels weird, this is the first time I've really written any sort of story. I liked it though. There exists something about writing that I can't quite pinpoint, which disturbs me. It is so immortal. I had a long discussion with Mrs. Hans about the death of dynamics in communication caused by writing. Back to my story. I could make it the basis for a whole novel, but alas, time does not permit. There is no way I can go to college after high school. There is tooo much to do. Without further delay: Everyone, meet Jack.

---
His Day

Nobody really knows what happened on that late night, that endless night that kept the world awake into the first small, and then back into the larger hours of the morning. Nobody will ever know why he did it. Nobody knows where he went. It just happened. Carpe Diem, he said.

Jacks father watched the sunrise over the neighbors fence as he lay on the grass he had installed only 2 weeks prior by a crew from All-American landscaping. It was a wonderful lawn, really, but this was not the purpose it was intended to serve. It was not ment to be the sight of an elderly man turned juvenille, tears drawn from the sobbing face by the emerald blades of grass. The depression of jack's fathers collapsed body was still visible the next day; a deliniation of dreams lost.

The lawn would recover. The world would move on. . Jack would vanish from the world entirely the instant the New York Times printing press warmed up. Where everyone gets 15 minutes of fame, Jack got a day.

For some, it was thier lives, ended. For one, it was rebirth.

The world moved on indifferent of these few individuals. Society does that, it sweeps over events with the terrential force of a tidal wave. And it did it with Jack.

But society was not what Jack was rebelling against, it was the person. Jack had seen the lost meaning of individuality, and he was out to rewrite the dictionary.

Nobody really knows what happened that night, but what is known is that if there ever was a person that lived, truelly lived, it was Jack. Jack lived. Jack had found out what was wrong with society, he had discovered the tainted individual.

It's a pity he didn't tell people of his realization. It's a shame he sought no audiance. Then again, the last time someone made a realization of Jack's magnitude, that person was nailed to a cross. Jack wouldn't have minded the nails. However, that person became the center of the paradigm of corruption and hypocricy for the next 2000 years. This Jack minded.

And so, he sought no audiance. Jack exited quietly. He let his mom buy her weekly lottery ticket. Jack left his fathers prized lawn in peace. That wasn't his world. He had found a passage, and there was no turning back.

He never did rewrite the dictionary. In his final realizations, before he withdrew, he realized the conflict of the matter. And so he took care of himself. It was the only thing he could do.

Barron's SAT II Physics Book, Page 212, Practice Test 3, Number 40:
A stone is thrown vertically upward from sea level to a height of 20 meters. Assume that air resistance is negligable. After the stone leaves the hand, its acceleration is

A) Downward at a decreasing value until it reaches its highest point
B) Upward at a decresing value until it reaches its highest point
C)Upward at 9.81 m/s2
D)not known
E) none of the above

View the talkback to see the books answer, and why I should recieve an honorary 800 on the SAT II:Physics (which I'm taking for the first time tomorrow)...