RELIGIOUS MUMBO JAMBALAYA

I know I'm officially a Mac user when I try for the Alt + A to Select All.

I don't know why I started off with that.

Yesterday, a friend of mine texted me about her annoyance with some Facebook friends on a feed complaining about the possibility of schools introducing sex education at an earlier age. Friends who happen to be the same as she (about 23). "Can anyone see the irony in that?" she texted. Why yes, friend. I can.

Earlier today, I read about a Texas state rep who recently filed a resolution to implement the inclusion of God and the Ten Commandments into the state's public schools. Phil Stephenson, I believe.

Religion is such a touchy subject. Touch, touch. Poke. You never know who you're going to offend or what friends you're going to lose with the statements you make. But I mean, as insignificant of an individual as I am, I guess I can just sit in my own little corner and quietly sort through my thoughts on the matter.

I don't really know why the push for religion is a priority, given the current circumstances that the nation is in. There are more pressing matters at hand, in my opinion. The economy could be - could be - a pretty big one. You know, could. Globalization has been opening up access to a new pool of workers who are able to work for significantly less pay than Americans. Middle-wage paying jobs are now offered overseas, and corporations are growing more profitable because they do not employ as many people as they used to. The financial wellbeing of the senior management and owners are being ensured at the expense of average employees. Tax policies seem to favor investors and high-wage earners. This isn't anything new; the employment rate is at an all-time low within the past thirty years. I don't even know if Stephenson's proposal will actually provide measurable results in bettering the nation, let alone the state of Texas.

But to what purpose does it serve to include the public acknowledgement of God in the state's public schools? I thought the public acknowledgement of God was made clear from the many, many many times in demonstrations, boycotts, pamphlets, television syndications, holidays, the bottom of my In-N-Out cup, small booklets passed out on the corners, organized groups, publicized fits of outrage...fuck--Church? Forgot about that one. I have friends who are religious. But those closest to me believe and feel as they wish, and allow me to do the same. I don't really feel threatened by those who propose similar resolutions as Stephenson's, because this world is progressively growing. The vast majority, compared to past centuries, have grasped the ability to reason. Surely they won't take a big, fat step back and call takesies backsies on what the Supreme Court already ruled against years ago.

The primary purpose of school is to educate those attending. You'll open up a big can of worms by advocating to support prayer and display of any religious citations on public schools. To specify, WHAT religion? There are too many versions that will probably demand the same acknowledgment. Which version is right? Surely not the one you believe in? How convenient. And don't call me Shirley. #snuckinanairplanereferencerightthurr

It's actually the conduct of the believers that leave such a bad impression on the idea of religion itself at times. I always thought that religion existed as a form of spiritual support, to better oneself in ways they wouldn't have been able to without. Maybe I'm wrong, but strong believers who remind me as to why I should convert make me feel as though religion is an inevitable disease. I would like to think that those who truly believe their religion to be right can give it enough faith to spread to willing believers, not resisting skeptics. Before asking non-believers if they can change their entire basis of reasoning and insight on existentialism, ask yourself if you are capable of doing the same.

I don't mean to sound as though I am attacking the idea. It's only those who try to shove it down my throat that really make me see the corruption behind it. I don't mind coexisting, because there are many different paths that an individual can take to find guidance and ways to improve as a person. I happen to have taken a different route. It is extremely hard for me to listen in on arguments from someone who disagrees with something that goes against the Bible, but doesn't adhere by its teachings entirely. Pick and choose, if you wish, but please allow others to do the same.

I think the Bible is a rulebook enforced for those who accept the legitimacy of its teachings. It doesn't apply if you don't see the value in it.

And I'm not even mad or anything. I'm just, you know...sitting here. Having eaten my Lean Cuisine too quickly and all.

SLEEP, FOOD, AND MOVIES

I am inexplicably indifferent at this moment. I think the educational system has taught me to inadvertently hate Mondays. And I'm pretty sure graduating to a job with "office hours" has also renewed my lifelong sense of disdain for such an unintentionally hated day. Someone had to start the week, and God knows that Sundays are for brunches, dreading Mondays, and...well, God.

My weekend consisted of Riverside. I spent the entire weekend there, hiding from the world with sleep, food, and movies. I didn't do shit, and those were my intentions. I don't even think I made it a point to pretend to be interested in the Super Bowl. What time did it air? I didn't even know who won or lost until I saw a Facebook status update from one of the 9ers, a gentleman who graduated from high school the same year as me. And to that effect, I'm bracing myself for all the sports themed memes and smart aleck statements made in reference to the game that I won't get (nor will I try).

But I digress.

George and I went to eat dinner that Saturday evening. It was an impulsive decision that we both made, sitting in his car in the dead center of the lot near the university. A Denny's loomed behind us. A Del Taco stood feebly next to it, forgotten but still hopeful. A Fat Burger, a Flame Broiler. A pho restaurant. A pizza joint. Various cutesy boba places scattered in between the larger chains. "Where do you want to eat?" I asked, as we both simultaneous turned our heads in completely different directions, searching.

"Uhhhh," he trailed off and continues to peer over my shoulder as I did the same to him, still looking for a place to dine. "There's Marines. But I know you don't like Marines."

My head turned to follow the direction of his gaze behind me. In plain sight, I saw a closed business with nothing but the illuminated sign that read "Marines." We both bursted into laughter as I lightly shoved him. "Oh, Jesus."

My ex-boyfriend used to be a Marine.

We ended up walking into Sushiya. You know, some derivative form of a sushi restaurant. A greater portion of the menu turned out to be half off. In between bites of cut rolls and hand rolls, we both started talking about this strange recurring idea I've had in my mind for quite some time now. I remember mentioning it to my friend, Roberto, but in between our stages of intoxication. He wouldn't recall. It was just had something to do with an alternate reality, but a bit more complex and specific. I worry sometimes that I will believe it to be true, and eventually go crazy.

If I haven't already.

I watched Wall-E later that night and fell asleep on George's shoulder during the fact. I thought I played it off pretty well, because I responded in my normal voice when he checked to see if I was awake. While all the fat people were hovering through a community-wide transit area and Wall-E knocked a fat man named John from his hover seat, I dozed off once more. I woke up right when the ending credits started up, only to calmly ask George, "Don't you just like the credits? I like how they showed the advancement of mankind...while the people gradually lose weight, the style of art changes progressively." He agreed and I smiled to myself, extremely proud for sleeping through it without being caught.

But I guess he already knew I was asleep. He told me this as he escorted me down from my proud moment. Dang it.

The next morning, I watched 2001: A Space Odyssey for the first time ever. As the first scene began, I mentally groaned at sight of the apes, sitting there and picking frivolously at scattered plants in the ground. This is the whole movie, isn't it? Please prove me wrong, movie. I sat up and covered myself in a red blanket, hoping for a change of pace.

The pace didn't exactly change.

I did, however, find it cryptic and thought-provoking. "Will you tell me what the fuck happened, starting from when he landed on Jupiter?"

"Well...I'll try," George answered. I knew what kind of film it was as soon as he told me he'll "try".

I liked it. Although I probably missed both the philosophical and allegorical interpretations because I was too busy trying to figure out what the movie was about, I did pull a few things from it. I immediately went to look up and see what exactly Stanley Kubrick had in mind when he was making this film, only to discover (to my delight) that he encouraged an open interpretation of the film, and didn't completely offer a complete explanation of the meaning behind it. So, this leads me to three options: (1) watch the movie again, (2) read the book that Sir Arthur C. Clarke had written in conjunction with the film during its creation, or (3) have an open discussion with people who have seen it. I don't intend on finding an "answer", but it was kind of adorable finding the different homages that Wall-E made in honor of the film. In 2001: A Space Odyssey, the space crew worked with EVA probes, while in Wall-E, the Extraterrestrial Vegetation Evaluator ("EVE") had her name mispronounced by Wall-E, who innocently annunciates it as "EVA". Because Wall-E is a Pixar film, and Pixar rarely creates without purpose, I would like to say that this was tribute was fit into the movie so well. And although 2001: A Space Odyssey and Wall-E have different points to prove, they both have a deeper messages to uncover. I think I would still like to listen to other interpretations of it before I begin to formulate my own.

It's strange to see what I have to say about things nowadays. I used to have a Dalmatians diary when I was younger, equipped with a set of rainbow colored washable markers. I'd write things like, "Today was a good day. I ate a sandwich and Mommy told me I had to sleep early but I don't want to." I was OCD, so I'd alternate colors in rainbow order. As difficult as it was to read, I still utilized the yellow marker regardless. It was so hard filling a page up back then. As you flip through the pages, you'll notice that I began to grow lazier, with my handwriting in a rushed slant as I noted, "Today was okay. Maybe tomorrow will be better. Well, bye!"

I think that's my weekend and thoughts in a very large nutshell. Like, if it were actually in a nutshell, it'd be big enough to fit me and a blanket in. I know I don't make much sense.

Well, bye.