Two Things I Thought About Today

I have no idea whether this will be a regular thing or not, but the two things I thought about today that would make good blog posts are probably not extensive enough to be a full post for each, so why not get them both in one go and have a full post? This is what is known as efficiency. Or laziness,  whichever you prefer. Writers are like that.

1) The Oscars

So surely by now you’ve heard about the great fumble at the Oscars, how they announced La La Land had won Best Picture, then quickly came out and said that there was a mistake and Moonlight had actually won. Considering I have watched neither of these films–I don’t watch that many movies in general–perhaps I can give an objective perspective on this. Maybe.

I’ll be honest, at first I thought Jimmy Kimmel was being his usual unfunny self and pranking us all like it’s a fucking Youtube ‘social experiment’. I really hate Jimmy Kimmel, you must understand. This is a blog, I get to be a little soapboxy. Also, I wasn’t paying enough attention and didn’t notice that Kimmel wasn’t even announcing the winner at the time. Go me.

But no, there had been an honest, genuine mistake. They had the wrong piece of paper, specifically the one for Best Actress, for Emma Stone’s performance in La La Land. Okay, fair enough. Mistakes happen, papers get mixed around, someone isn’t careful enough when they put things in envelopes. It just doesn’t usually happen on national television. Protip, if you are ever on national television, under no circumstances whatsoever should you make even the tiniest mistkae. You will go viral, people will make fun of you and you will not ever live it down. I’ve seen it happen before, and I have no doubt in my mind that I will see it happen again. Probably won’t even be that long.

I learned one thing from this experience, and that’s this: the public does not decide who wins the Oscars. I genuinely did not know this until I looked it up and found out the La La Land had actually blown every other film in the running out of the water with a whopping 38% of the votes. Moonlight got 11%. Here’s a good article on who actually decides who wins the Oscars (will open in a new tab, as will any other links I put on this blog). Apparently, I thought it was like the Kid’s Choice Awards on Nickelodeon or something.

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Oh, those aren’t fair, either. Never mind, then.

2) Reading Rainbow and Memory

So. How do you remember the Reading Rainbow theme song? You know, from the PBS show? If you’re anything like all the people I’ve asked so far, you either somehow haven’t watched it, or you remember it like this or like this.

So how the fuck do I very clearly remember it like this?

That’s right, I specifically remember it going, AND I SAY HEEEEEY HEY HEY HEYAYAYA, HEEEEEY HEY HEY, I SAID HEY, WHAT’S GOING ON?

This isn’t like the whole Bernstein Bears or however the fuck you spell it, where a lot of people remember it a different way. No, I am alone in this very clear memory of standing in front of the television as a kid and hearing that song.

I see three possibilities:

  1. Memes have ruined my memory. I would not be surprised one bit, but it would be discouraging to say the least.
  2. I remember it the same because the two songs have very similar notes and vocals. I find this the most likely explanation, honestly. It’s happened to me before. I’m a forgetful person that way.
  3. I’ve been dropped into an alternate universe wholly different from my home one. I’ve suspected this too, considering the Oscars fumble, Donald Trump and Moby Dick being about gay sex. When do I get to go back to my homeworld?

Okay, that’s all for now, I think. Excuse me while I go find the time crystals that will send me back to my homeworld.

How Do You Know?

Have you ever wondered how we can possibly know we’re on the right track? That what we believe is correct? That we’re on the right side and history will look back on us and think, “those were some pretty sweet dudes”?

I’ve thought about this before. I think about it a lot, honestly. As a solid liberal , I’d say I’m about 90% sure that I’m right and that the Republicans are wrong. But how do I know? You might say any number of things in response:

  • You know you’re right because they’re wrong. How does that not strike you as incredibly childish? You might as well cover your ears and go “LALALALALA” too.
  • You know you’re right because they’re jerks. People who are right can also be jerks. Hell, I can name several liberals who are just as big jerks as the conservatives. It’s what my mom call the Asshole Rule–in any sufficiently large group, there’s going to be a few assholes. It’s just human nature. Some groups have a higher rate of assholes than others, but they all have at least a couple.
  • You know you’re right because of [XYZ evidence]. Okay, that’s a pretty strong argument. You’re on the right track. I won’t go with the worn-out argument of ‘evidence can be faked’–the favorite of every conspiracy theorist ever. Instead, I’ll present you with this: Some things you think are right, you can’t provide solid evidence for. I garuntee you. If you’ve never seen an atom up close, only pictures and models, you have no evidence atoms actually exist, now do you?

So how do I know I’m right? I don’t. And I’m okay with that. Sure, it’s worth putting some thought into what you believe and deciding whether it’s really what you’re heart leads you to. But once you’ve decided, unless there’s a clear reason to change your beliefs, beyond the idea that you might be wrong, worrying about it is just going to drag you down.

So yeah, I’m okay with not knowing I’m right. Much better to try and be the best person I can be and shape my beliefs around that instead of some arbitrary concept of ‘rightness’.

Blogs and I–A History

Have you ever noticed that writers these days always have to have a blog? I suppose this makes sense–if you shout your opinions into a journal no one can see, that isn’t marketable. No one wants to buy your writing if they can’t vet you, just like no one would want to commission a painting from you if all you had to show for your art skills was some shitty crayon drawing your mom keeps on the fridge. So, it follows that if I consider myself a writer (which I do) and want to publish someday (which I do, even if I don’t necessarily want it to be my only¬† source of income), then I must have a blog.

There’s a couple reasons I’m only mildly enthusiastic about this, of course.

  1. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed by now, but I often have no clue what I’m talking about or what I’m doing. I’m going to be bouncing between video games and anime and politics and philosophy and history and science and religion and just about anything else that happens to momentarily catch my ever watchful, ever twitchy Eye of Intense Obsessive Interest.
  2. Blogs and I have an interesting history.

What is the interesting history that the second point so speaks of, you may ask? Let me take you on a journey back in time, to when I was young and silly…behold, a timeline.

  • 2007, age nine. My mom decides that in order for me to be a Successful Writing Prodigy by the time I grow up, I’m going to need a Tumblr. So I get a Tumblr blog and start writing blog posts about ‘things I learned’, adding snappy comments that I thought were witty as hell when I was nine. Prime example of what I thought was funny when I was nine: I had learned that the largest star in the universe had been discovered. My witty comment? “Wait until it becomes a black hole.” That’s right, I thought casually mentioning the (probably scientifically impossible) future destruction of all the universe via supermassive black hole was witty when I was a kid. I was a pretty odd child.
  • 2012, age fourteen. I get myself a WordPress blog. I write nothing but shitty game reviews, a shitty Let’s Play and a shitty fanfiction on it until two years later, when I write a post about Ebola that no one gives a shit about. Remember that, Ebola? That was a thing.
  • 2015, age seventeen. Ha, this one is far too recent for my comfort. I get another Tumblr, clearly not learning from the first time. What follows is what I call the Shitty Thing, in which I get sucked into the weirdest sides of the Tumblr world and nearly ruin my life following these people. I will never speak highly of Tumblr here, and that’s why.

So yes, that’s three failed blogs in my past. Hopefully this one will be better, even though, again, I usually have no fucking clue what I’m talking about. Maybe you’ll find my writings here entertaining.