This is part two of a two-part series in which I view love and hate.
If you have not read part one, I suggest you do so before continuing to read this.
Any coward can hate everyone else, but it takes courage to love anyone else.
What is love?
You can have arguably the best dictionary on Earth, but the answer is simple: it cannot be defined. Love isn't a rigid, coarse object like hate. It is ever-changing and shrouded in gray areas.
As teens, many of us are quick to say we "love" someone or something (such as food, music, books, etcetera). As far as a relationship goes, three days- or even one- generally doesn't induce love. However, oh-so-often we are quick to say how much in love with our significant other we are within a week of dating.
If you thought this post was going to be violets and daisies, you've been mislead. Although, I'm not trying to be "Mister Bitter Single Guy" either.
Have we thrown around the word "love" so frivilously that it has lost its pure meaning? We've made it synonymous with liking someone, thinking they're cute, or even something more physical than anything else.
It happens, and, for the most part, all of us are guilty of it.
Some may say "But Mister Bitter Single Guy, what *insert name of significant other* and I have is different. We do truly love each other."
If everyone says their relationship is different from the others (which they do) and say their relationship is true love (which they also do), then they are, in fact, the same.
Can we say that we have experienced love? Not for certain.
Can we say that we haven't experienced love? Again, not for certain.
Society as a whole tends to tell teens that we're too young to know what love is. Can this be true?
If we are too young, then what is the age limit for love? Or how will we know what it is when we do feel it?
And, most importantly, are we only limited to romantic love?
Pure love is not a definite, measurable force. We cannot chain it down to a solid equation or explanation.
It could be in many different forms as well.
A young couple holding hands at a high school football game.
An elderly married couple who have been together for a majority of their lives.
A woman who still reads over the war letters from the man she wishes she had married.
A friend who stands by you when everything else has fallen apart, and builds you up when you're broken.
A person who pulls a complete stranger out of the path of a vehicle on a crosswalk.
A mother or father holding a their newborn child.
A family.
Another human.
Love in its purest way cannot be explained.
It can be both simple and complex.
Gather your courage, let go of any hatred, live your life with an open mind and heart, and then you will experience pure love.
It's not easy, but who said it would be?
Friday, September 2, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Pt. 1: On Hate
This is part one of a two-part series in which I view love and hate.
Some may wonder why I chose to start with hate, and the answer is simple: you see much more hate than love on the ten o' clock news.
Hate corrupts.
It corrupts the body, contorting it with rage and hostility.
It corrupts the mind, polluting it with mental filth and clouding our rationality.
It corrupts the soul, turning it into a snapping, dangerous animal.
Why is it that humans hate? Is it our differences? The way we look and talk? What we believe and think?
Consider the snowflakes, each one being unique. Not one hates another for its differences. One is not individually scrutinized over the other because of its shape, temperature, or manner of falling. They all come together in quiet harmony to create something beautiful.
Some might say "But Mister Metaphor, there are no ethnic snowflakes."
If you're one of those people then you've overanalyzed.
The snowflakes represent humans as humans free of labels based on religion, race, gender, lifestyle, and nationality.
But why is it we cling to these labels instead of recognizing one another as individual beings?
There's a multitude of possibilities. Fear. Ignorance. Generalization. Demonization. The list goes on.
It has been said that Muslims are taught to hate Americans, but are we self-righteous enough to say we aren't being taught to hate?
If you ask the question "Who destroyed the Twin Towers?" in the United States, the overwhelming answer would be "The Muslims," or "The Muslim terrorists."
In a way, by either propaganda or ignorant misuse of terms, we have learned hatred.
We should be learning to love one another as humans instead of constantly bickering about each others' uniqueness.
Every snowflake forms as an ice crystal.
No exceptions.
Every snowflake melts.
No exceptions.
Any coward can hate everyone else, but it takes courage to love anyone else.
Some may wonder why I chose to start with hate, and the answer is simple: you see much more hate than love on the ten o' clock news.
Hate corrupts.
It corrupts the body, contorting it with rage and hostility.
It corrupts the mind, polluting it with mental filth and clouding our rationality.
It corrupts the soul, turning it into a snapping, dangerous animal.
Why is it that humans hate? Is it our differences? The way we look and talk? What we believe and think?
Consider the snowflakes, each one being unique. Not one hates another for its differences. One is not individually scrutinized over the other because of its shape, temperature, or manner of falling. They all come together in quiet harmony to create something beautiful.
Some might say "But Mister Metaphor, there are no ethnic snowflakes."
If you're one of those people then you've overanalyzed.
The snowflakes represent humans as humans free of labels based on religion, race, gender, lifestyle, and nationality.
But why is it we cling to these labels instead of recognizing one another as individual beings?
There's a multitude of possibilities. Fear. Ignorance. Generalization. Demonization. The list goes on.
It has been said that Muslims are taught to hate Americans, but are we self-righteous enough to say we aren't being taught to hate?
If you ask the question "Who destroyed the Twin Towers?" in the United States, the overwhelming answer would be "The Muslims," or "The Muslim terrorists."
In a way, by either propaganda or ignorant misuse of terms, we have learned hatred.
We should be learning to love one another as humans instead of constantly bickering about each others' uniqueness.
Every snowflake forms as an ice crystal.
No exceptions.
Every snowflake melts.
No exceptions.
Any coward can hate everyone else, but it takes courage to love anyone else.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Will the Real Slim Shady Please Come Back so I can get a Picture??
So, as many of you know, last weekend about 80,000 people flocked to Manchester for one major event: Bonnaroo.
I happened to be one of those people that attended, and I LOVED it. The music was good, the people were friendly, the weather wasn't too scorching, and the sweet potato fries were delicious.
I arrived Friday in time to see Grace Potter and The Nocturnals with my awesome sister. Sadly, we had to leave before Florence and The Machine performed. As we were leaving, my sister tapped my shoulder and said "There's Florence." And yes, she was there. Five feet away from me. About to be interviewed by Fuse.
Surprised? Yes, I was very much so.
Saturday, I showed up around twelve-ish with my cousins (Beverly and Jeff) and their friends. I managed to catch the end of Dennis Coffey at What Stage, later watched !!! (pronounced chuh-chuh-chuh) then I just did my own thing for a while. I went around Centeroo, and at the Solar Stage during Hanggai, I met some nice out-of-town people: one from Clarksville and one from Chicago.
At 5-something, I went to see the highlight of my Bonnaroo 2011 experience: Mumford & Sons. I was BLOWN AWAY. Not only did they play amazingly, but for their encore they, The Apache Relay, and the Old Crow Medicine Show all got on stage and performed "Amazing Grace." I was also among some pretty great people in the crowd.
Back at the Hospitality Tent, I listened to The Black Keys for a while, then I happened to drift by one of the press tents and saw (through the open flap) Eminem getting his picture taken for a newspaper.
I had my phone out... it was in camera... I had zoomed in enough... my finger was on the button...
And then he moved.
I don't mean he moved his hand or turned his head or something like that, I mean he got up and walked out of the line of sight from the flap. I was dumbstruck.
So... moving on to Sunday. I watched Gregg Allman with my sister and two of my friends, then later laid in a hammock and listened to The Strokes at Which Stage (also with my sister).
Thus ends another year of Bonnaroo.
Fellow locals, I think we should take pride in the fact that we hold possibly the greatest Music and Arts Festival in the world, instead of complaining about those "drunken, naked, tree-hugging hippees" (which, by the way, is untrue for the majority if not all Bonnaroo goers). Bonnaroo is a great event with a positive atmosphere, a break from the ennui in life, and I know many of us are looking forward to next year.
I happened to be one of those people that attended, and I LOVED it. The music was good, the people were friendly, the weather wasn't too scorching, and the sweet potato fries were delicious.
I arrived Friday in time to see Grace Potter and The Nocturnals with my awesome sister. Sadly, we had to leave before Florence and The Machine performed. As we were leaving, my sister tapped my shoulder and said "There's Florence." And yes, she was there. Five feet away from me. About to be interviewed by Fuse.
Surprised? Yes, I was very much so.
Saturday, I showed up around twelve-ish with my cousins (Beverly and Jeff) and their friends. I managed to catch the end of Dennis Coffey at What Stage, later watched !!! (pronounced chuh-chuh-chuh) then I just did my own thing for a while. I went around Centeroo, and at the Solar Stage during Hanggai, I met some nice out-of-town people: one from Clarksville and one from Chicago.
At 5-something, I went to see the highlight of my Bonnaroo 2011 experience: Mumford & Sons. I was BLOWN AWAY. Not only did they play amazingly, but for their encore they, The Apache Relay, and the Old Crow Medicine Show all got on stage and performed "Amazing Grace." I was also among some pretty great people in the crowd.
Back at the Hospitality Tent, I listened to The Black Keys for a while, then I happened to drift by one of the press tents and saw (through the open flap) Eminem getting his picture taken for a newspaper.
I had my phone out... it was in camera... I had zoomed in enough... my finger was on the button...
And then he moved.
I don't mean he moved his hand or turned his head or something like that, I mean he got up and walked out of the line of sight from the flap. I was dumbstruck.
So... moving on to Sunday. I watched Gregg Allman with my sister and two of my friends, then later laid in a hammock and listened to The Strokes at Which Stage (also with my sister).
Thus ends another year of Bonnaroo.
Fellow locals, I think we should take pride in the fact that we hold possibly the greatest Music and Arts Festival in the world, instead of complaining about those "drunken, naked, tree-hugging hippees" (which, by the way, is untrue for the majority if not all Bonnaroo goers). Bonnaroo is a great event with a positive atmosphere, a break from the ennui in life, and I know many of us are looking forward to next year.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
The Wrestling Season
Last Wednesday, I had the opprotunity to preview MRC's The Wrestling Season (by Laurie Brooks), and all I can say is this,
Wow.
There are really no words to describe how great it was, but I'm going to try to do it justice anyways.
First off, instead of a typical theatre setting with a stage, it was a wrestling mat surrounded by chairs. This feature gives the audience a feeling of interaction as opposed to spectation.
Secondly, the plot is amazing. It moves relatively quickly, yet is very deep. It has also managed to target two problems most teenagers face: rumors and bullying.
Plus, there is a feedback forum -ish-type-thing after every performance where the audience has the opprotunity to discuss their reactions and observations with cast members.
This play is also generally for mature teens, meaning teens that can look deeper than what's just "on the surface".
Overall, this is a very well done play, and I recommend it to anyone who is interested
The Wrestling Season is rated PG-13 for some mild language.
Directed by Robert Allen
April 7, 8, and 9 at 7:30 p.m and April 9 and 10 at 2:30 at the Duck River Electric Membership Corporation building, 213 East Fort Street, Manchester, TN.
Tickets are $8.
Call (931) 409-0290 to reserve tickets. (This is helpful. Believe me, there's a full house.)
Concessions will be sold by the Teen Actors' Guild.
Wow.
There are really no words to describe how great it was, but I'm going to try to do it justice anyways.
First off, instead of a typical theatre setting with a stage, it was a wrestling mat surrounded by chairs. This feature gives the audience a feeling of interaction as opposed to spectation.
Secondly, the plot is amazing. It moves relatively quickly, yet is very deep. It has also managed to target two problems most teenagers face: rumors and bullying.
Plus, there is a feedback forum -ish-type-thing after every performance where the audience has the opprotunity to discuss their reactions and observations with cast members.
This play is also generally for mature teens, meaning teens that can look deeper than what's just "on the surface".
Overall, this is a very well done play, and I recommend it to anyone who is interested
The Wrestling Season is rated PG-13 for some mild language.
Directed by Robert Allen
April 7, 8, and 9 at 7:30 p.m and April 9 and 10 at 2:30 at the Duck River Electric Membership Corporation building, 213 East Fort Street, Manchester, TN.
Tickets are $8.
Call (931) 409-0290 to reserve tickets. (This is helpful. Believe me, there's a full house.)
Concessions will be sold by the Teen Actors' Guild.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Better Late Than Never.
It might be because I'm mostly Irish, or it could be because my birthstone is emerald, or it could even be that I like potatoes and the color green too much, but I absolutely love St. Patrick's Day.
Not "okay with it."
Not "tolerates it."
Not "like it."
Love it.
St. Patty's Day is definately in my top 5 holidays, but I've always had a liking for Ireland in general. Irish food, Irish coffee, Irish Spring, etcetra.
I especially love Irish music. I was dissappointed that I couldn't see Dropkick Murpheys last year at Bonnaroo, but this year I'll get to see Mumford & Sons. :D I know they aren't technically Irish, but their music absolutely has some Irish basis. So, yes, I'm excited.
Eventually I might go to Ireland. Meet the people, try the food, learn the language, learn to Riverdance (hopefully). Maybe even find out more of my family tree.
Hopefully it isn't as stereotypical over there as most people think, with leprechauns running around with ridiculous names like "Andrew O'McNolinshire."
Not "okay with it."
Not "tolerates it."
Not "like it."
Love it.
St. Patty's Day is definately in my top 5 holidays, but I've always had a liking for Ireland in general. Irish food, Irish coffee, Irish Spring, etcetra.
I especially love Irish music. I was dissappointed that I couldn't see Dropkick Murpheys last year at Bonnaroo, but this year I'll get to see Mumford & Sons. :D I know they aren't technically Irish, but their music absolutely has some Irish basis. So, yes, I'm excited.
Eventually I might go to Ireland. Meet the people, try the food, learn the language, learn to Riverdance (hopefully). Maybe even find out more of my family tree.
Hopefully it isn't as stereotypical over there as most people think, with leprechauns running around with ridiculous names like "Andrew O'McNolinshire."
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Newspaper, Awesomeness, and Forgetfullness. Oh my...
Wow, I haven't written a blog in forever. I really need to remember I have one... But that's beside the point.
Updates:
Monday, The EDGE Newspaper staff journeyed to Lipscomb University for the THSPA awards. We were a mixture of excited, nervous, chill, panic-attack mode, and rawr. After being second in the state to Harpeth Hall last year, all of us wondered if we would reclaim the #1 All-Tennessee title again.
Well, guess what.
We did!
(cue fireworks and feeling of Awesome.)
But honestly, it doesn't take a shiny golden star trophy to assure me that we're the best newspaper in Tennesee. Just reading it and being with the other staff members tells me that. We're all like a big family. At the Mexican restaurant, we had one of the greatest times. Nathan brought (delicious) cupcakes, and somebody tipped off the waiters that Amanda's birthday was the day before that. Needless to say, a large, pink sombrero and a surprised expression were involved. :)
After that, we went up the road to play lazer tag. Good news? Private party, no terrifying children (you had to be there to know.) We had codenames such as Sherlock, Watson, Mr. Sideburns, a trio of wizards: Merlin, Gandalf, and Dumbledore, and Bob!!
It seems as though every time we go to lazer tag, our advisor, Mrs. Lockhart, never fails to prove how awesome she is. All of us who thought we were good were completely blown out of the water by "Spiffychic." Now, we are convinced she was a WWII sniper in a past life.
Sadly, after lazer tag, tragedy struck.
The leftover cupcakes were dropped. Not one, not a couple. All of them. This called for a moment of silence followed by a quick cleanup.
At the end of the day, we all came back with a few awards and the satisfaction of another day with our newspaper family.
Best day so far? More than likely.
Updates:
Monday, The EDGE Newspaper staff journeyed to Lipscomb University for the THSPA awards. We were a mixture of excited, nervous, chill, panic-attack mode, and rawr. After being second in the state to Harpeth Hall last year, all of us wondered if we would reclaim the #1 All-Tennessee title again.
Well, guess what.
We did!
(cue fireworks and feeling of Awesome.)
But honestly, it doesn't take a shiny golden star trophy to assure me that we're the best newspaper in Tennesee. Just reading it and being with the other staff members tells me that. We're all like a big family. At the Mexican restaurant, we had one of the greatest times. Nathan brought (delicious) cupcakes, and somebody tipped off the waiters that Amanda's birthday was the day before that. Needless to say, a large, pink sombrero and a surprised expression were involved. :)
After that, we went up the road to play lazer tag. Good news? Private party, no terrifying children (you had to be there to know.) We had codenames such as Sherlock, Watson, Mr. Sideburns, a trio of wizards: Merlin, Gandalf, and Dumbledore, and Bob!!
It seems as though every time we go to lazer tag, our advisor, Mrs. Lockhart, never fails to prove how awesome she is. All of us who thought we were good were completely blown out of the water by "Spiffychic." Now, we are convinced she was a WWII sniper in a past life.
Sadly, after lazer tag, tragedy struck.
The leftover cupcakes were dropped. Not one, not a couple. All of them. This called for a moment of silence followed by a quick cleanup.
At the end of the day, we all came back with a few awards and the satisfaction of another day with our newspaper family.
Best day so far? More than likely.
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