A while ago, I read a piece of a story (yeah, it was fan fiction and it has a lot of parts, but they feel too short to be called chapters) where a character, who has isolated herself because she's been teased a bullied for years, loses something that is important to her. After she spends the day searching for it, ditching all her classes, which makes her more depressed and anxious, she climbs several flights of stairs into a room where she knows she can be alone. She enters the room, walks over to a window, pushes the window open, steps up, and steps out. She falls, of course. She survives because she's the kind of character who isn't really allowed to accomplish what she sets out to do. (Also, she's not a main character. She's used to push the main character into a new situation and build that character more.)
That's where that part of the story ends. With her on the ground.
The story didn't bother me. In fact, I found it very honest. What bothered me was a lot of the discussion that came after it was posted.
The character was hated by nearly everyone who has been reading the story as it's been serialized. She was passive. She let things happen to her. She didn't take stands or push back. Her response was to run away and hide if she could. If she couldn't hide, she took what was thrown at her then moved on knowing it, or something similar, was going to happen to her again.
So, when she tried to kill herself, many of the people wrote comments saying good riddance. They didn't like her. They didn't want her around. They thought she took time away from the main characters.
One person tried to defend the character I've been writing about. This person wrote very passionately about people being bullied and how it destroys self-esteem and what it's like to live in constant fear.
Of course the defense was brushed aside. She would have been a better character if she'd stood up for herself. Bullies back off when confronted. She was a drag on the story. She didn't do anything to help the plot. And so on.
The defender continued to try to write about what led the character to step out the window. The defender wrote that this character just got tired of being noticed and wanted to end it and went the only way she could.
To that, one of the other people who hated the character wrote that if she hadn't wanted to be noticed that she wouldn't have tried to kill herself in such a spectacular and public way and that if she hadn't wanted to be noticed, she should have stood up for herself so she'd be left alone.
The defender quit trying to defend here. There was no point in the defender continuing on. The others didn't want to understand. So the conversation stopped online, but not in my head.
(For the record, I am not the one who was defending the character. All of this was written between the time I moved from North Bay to Cowtown and I started getting online regularly. It took a long time for me to catch up on the reading that I wanted to do. I can't say I would have gotten involved. I'm not so good at being part of a "community," even if it is a virtual one.)
What bothered me was the person saying that she tried to kill herself in a spectacular and public way and the implication that there's a way for a person to kill him/herself that wouldn't be spectacular or public.
In this world where (nearly) everyone believes that their life is precious, one taking his/her own life will always seem spectacular, once it's discovered. People are always shocked, whether it's someone quietly hanging him/herself in the garage or if he/she puts a pistol to his/her head in a crowded mall and pulls a trigger. One is reacted to more strongly than the other, but it all comes down to the average person asking why a person would kill him/herself. Because they can't fathom that someone wouldn't want to live. And once the death is discovered, even the quiet, private one, it becomes spectacular and public.
So, how do you explain to the average person that someone may not value his/her life like most people do? Can the average person understand the feelings of self-hatred, or worthlessness, or simple exhaustion others may have? Or will it just bounce off them because they simply believe that humans are simply animals and the first thing all animals try to do is survive?
Are humans simply animals? Do we simply want to survive as a species, if not as an individual? Are those who don't want to survive then wrong? Is it part of "je pense, donc je suis"?
Showing posts with label wondering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wondering. Show all posts
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Tuesday, March 09, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
On Time, Work, and Idioms
Today has moved surprisingly fast. Time seems to move in large jumps petween the moments I glance at the clock. It probably helps that I don't actually remember doing my work, although my desk is cleaned off, and that TMSV has been away from her desk most of the day and therefore isn't a distraction.
It was nice to be plugging along at whatever I was plugging along at this morning then look into the corner of my main monitor and see that the time was 11:00 AM, thirty minutes before lunch. It was a surprise to get back from lunch and do whatever I did then look down and notice that it was after three.
I truly have no memory of doing my work.
I must have searched and screened and scanned and data entered this morning, but I don't remember doing it.
I don't remember pulling up much to read. I do remember posting on that other blog. I don't remember playing online games. I do remember replying to comments in the last post and on other people's blogs. I don't really remember my lunch hour, but I must have left the office because otherwise I'd have to pee, probably pretty badly. Like a racehorse, I suppose, but since I've never seen a racehorse, or any horse, pee I'm not sure exactly what that mean. Although I suppose it means pee a lot because, I assume, that an animal that much larger than a human has a larger bladder than me and therefore pees a large quantity when it pees.
Where do you think the phase "pee like a racehorse" came from? Do other cultures have a similar phrase?
That's one thing I sometimes wonder about when I watch science fiction. Idioms, I mean. An alien must get really confused when a human says something was "tongue-in-cheek." Even with a translator that can translate one language perfectly into another language, would it recognize the phrase as an idiom and translate it as "humorously" or "jokingly," or would it do a direct translation of the words? Then the alien would be wondering what the human is doing with his (or her) tongue in his (or her) cheek. And isn't it hard to talk with one's tongue in one's cheek. That's assuming the alien even knows what a tongue is!
Thing should work the other way, too. I mean shouldn't aliens be going around saying things like, "Your words are feglaios on a bentomej to me." What the hell does that mean, right? Hell, even if there's some kind of context around it, maybe it's an argument that's gotten personal, does it mean the words are hurtful? Meaningless? Stupid? Unhelpful? Helpful? What?
Huh, I guess my brother's girlfriend, who's from China, has this problem. Well, on occasion. I can't remember it coming up, but she's only been in the US a few years. It was probably worse early on. Wouldn't it suck to have someone make up idioms then you use them...
You know, I bet my brother's done that to her at least once. I would.
It was nice to be plugging along at whatever I was plugging along at this morning then look into the corner of my main monitor and see that the time was 11:00 AM, thirty minutes before lunch. It was a surprise to get back from lunch and do whatever I did then look down and notice that it was after three.
I truly have no memory of doing my work.
I must have searched and screened and scanned and data entered this morning, but I don't remember doing it.
I don't remember pulling up much to read. I do remember posting on that other blog. I don't remember playing online games. I do remember replying to comments in the last post and on other people's blogs. I don't really remember my lunch hour, but I must have left the office because otherwise I'd have to pee, probably pretty badly. Like a racehorse, I suppose, but since I've never seen a racehorse, or any horse, pee I'm not sure exactly what that mean. Although I suppose it means pee a lot because, I assume, that an animal that much larger than a human has a larger bladder than me and therefore pees a large quantity when it pees.
Where do you think the phase "pee like a racehorse" came from? Do other cultures have a similar phrase?
That's one thing I sometimes wonder about when I watch science fiction. Idioms, I mean. An alien must get really confused when a human says something was "tongue-in-cheek." Even with a translator that can translate one language perfectly into another language, would it recognize the phrase as an idiom and translate it as "humorously" or "jokingly," or would it do a direct translation of the words? Then the alien would be wondering what the human is doing with his (or her) tongue in his (or her) cheek. And isn't it hard to talk with one's tongue in one's cheek. That's assuming the alien even knows what a tongue is!
Thing should work the other way, too. I mean shouldn't aliens be going around saying things like, "Your words are feglaios on a bentomej to me." What the hell does that mean, right? Hell, even if there's some kind of context around it, maybe it's an argument that's gotten personal, does it mean the words are hurtful? Meaningless? Stupid? Unhelpful? Helpful? What?
Huh, I guess my brother's girlfriend, who's from China, has this problem. Well, on occasion. I can't remember it coming up, but she's only been in the US a few years. It was probably worse early on. Wouldn't it suck to have someone make up idioms then you use them...
You know, I bet my brother's done that to her at least once. I would.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
bored, bored, bored
I leave early today, but that doesn't stop the boring from creeping in. I held on to all the work I was giving yesterday until this morning. It didn't take long to finish. I wandered around the 'net just looking and nothing struck me.
What I really want to do is sit here and read my book, but I don't know if I could get away with that. It's not like high school where the teachers had thirty other students to watch and if one spent the whole hour reading a book, why should they care? Here, there are only a few of us and they expect us to be busy all the time, even though they know that we only get 2/3rds the work we got six months ago and a new person was hired in those last six months.
So, I try to look busy. I shuffle papers around at my desk. I keep a couple of files around. I get up and wander around (although that also helps with my sciatica crap). I type a letter to my parents. I poke around through comic archives. I roll around in my cubie area and grab my stapler as if I'm going to use it, bring the stapler back to my desk and ten minutes later I roll it back to its usual place. I cross off today on the calendar with the symbol I use to mark the short day. I eat a granola bar so I won't take the giant ibuprofen on an empty stomach. I listen to SHTK whine about stupid things and stupid people.
Still, I'm bored.
In my head I start thinking about the future. I start with the near future and the possibility of pizza for dinner. I move on to Friday and the drive to my parents' house and the brother, with his girlie friend, being there; the last time I saw him was a year ago and I've never met her. I wonder if JL and H, among others, will want to game. I skip to New Year's and think about how much I hate that holiday. Then I think farther wonder about people I may meet and places that I'll dream about visiting. I try to picture myself being visited by the spawn of my brothers, which is really hard, for reasons that I don't want to write about. I wander through the house that I'd like to own and I mow the lawn that I always wanted growing up and let much of the land go wild. I tend to an herb garden. I waltz with an old friend at her daughter's wedding. I fall asleep.
And now, along with bored, I'm a little sad, maybe more wistful.
I can't/don't picture what I used to think of as the perfect future for myself anymore. I suppose I don't believe in that movie happy ending.
Still, I'd like to live a day like that Lovin' Spoonful song "Rain of the Roof," just once.
What I really want to do is sit here and read my book, but I don't know if I could get away with that. It's not like high school where the teachers had thirty other students to watch and if one spent the whole hour reading a book, why should they care? Here, there are only a few of us and they expect us to be busy all the time, even though they know that we only get 2/3rds the work we got six months ago and a new person was hired in those last six months.
So, I try to look busy. I shuffle papers around at my desk. I keep a couple of files around. I get up and wander around (although that also helps with my sciatica crap). I type a letter to my parents. I poke around through comic archives. I roll around in my cubie area and grab my stapler as if I'm going to use it, bring the stapler back to my desk and ten minutes later I roll it back to its usual place. I cross off today on the calendar with the symbol I use to mark the short day. I eat a granola bar so I won't take the giant ibuprofen on an empty stomach. I listen to SHTK whine about stupid things and stupid people.
Still, I'm bored.
In my head I start thinking about the future. I start with the near future and the possibility of pizza for dinner. I move on to Friday and the drive to my parents' house and the brother, with his girlie friend, being there; the last time I saw him was a year ago and I've never met her. I wonder if JL and H, among others, will want to game. I skip to New Year's and think about how much I hate that holiday. Then I think farther wonder about people I may meet and places that I'll dream about visiting. I try to picture myself being visited by the spawn of my brothers, which is really hard, for reasons that I don't want to write about. I wander through the house that I'd like to own and I mow the lawn that I always wanted growing up and let much of the land go wild. I tend to an herb garden. I waltz with an old friend at her daughter's wedding. I fall asleep.
And now, along with bored, I'm a little sad, maybe more wistful.
I can't/don't picture what I used to think of as the perfect future for myself anymore. I suppose I don't believe in that movie happy ending.
Still, I'd like to live a day like that Lovin' Spoonful song "Rain of the Roof," just once.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Ash Wednesday
Today is Ash Wednesday. Did you know that?
I didn't, until I got to work and was speaking with one of the ladies. Earlier, I saw her fiddling with the copy machine before we spoke. As we were speaking, I noticed a black and gray smudge on her forehead. And, thinking it was toner, I told her.
"It's Ash Wednesday," she said.
"Oh," I said.
"Yeah," She said.
And I walked away.
I always thought that those Ash Wednesday people were supposed to have a cross put on their forehead, not a smudge. My guess is that she couldn't stop herself from playing with it and she smeared it all over.
After the awkward conversation, I looked Ash Wednesday up on Wikipedia to find out what, exactly, the ashes symbolize and where the use of the ashes came from. What, I wanted to know, are the origins of Ash Wednesday?
Wikipedia was very little help to me. It says something about the ashes have something to do with reminding people that they are really nothing ("Remember, man, that you are dust, and unto dust you shall return.") which really doesn't seem to jive with all the stuff Jesus was talking about. There's also the suggestion that it's a penance, but if it's something that all "good" Christians do and they're proud of it, is it really a penance?
Besides, what was Jesus doing 46 days before he escaped his tome and said "Hey." to some guys he knew? Was he rolling around in some cinders making an ash of himself? I doubt it.
I'd like to know, in 500 words or less (less would be preferable), how Ash Wednesday started, why the ashes go on the forehead, what this has to do with a good guy getting nailed to a tree for saying we should all just get along?
I'll do my best not to get this way on Palm Sunday, but I still wonder, is it okay for normal people to walk on the palm fronds on that day, or are they only meant as a symbolic welcoming of Jesus into the churches? (Which seems odd to my. Why only welcome Jesus into your church one day a year?)
I didn't, until I got to work and was speaking with one of the ladies. Earlier, I saw her fiddling with the copy machine before we spoke. As we were speaking, I noticed a black and gray smudge on her forehead. And, thinking it was toner, I told her.
"It's Ash Wednesday," she said.
"Oh," I said.
"Yeah," She said.
And I walked away.
I always thought that those Ash Wednesday people were supposed to have a cross put on their forehead, not a smudge. My guess is that she couldn't stop herself from playing with it and she smeared it all over.
After the awkward conversation, I looked Ash Wednesday up on Wikipedia to find out what, exactly, the ashes symbolize and where the use of the ashes came from. What, I wanted to know, are the origins of Ash Wednesday?
Wikipedia was very little help to me. It says something about the ashes have something to do with reminding people that they are really nothing ("Remember, man, that you are dust, and unto dust you shall return.") which really doesn't seem to jive with all the stuff Jesus was talking about. There's also the suggestion that it's a penance, but if it's something that all "good" Christians do and they're proud of it, is it really a penance?
Besides, what was Jesus doing 46 days before he escaped his tome and said "Hey." to some guys he knew? Was he rolling around in some cinders making an ash of himself? I doubt it.
I'd like to know, in 500 words or less (less would be preferable), how Ash Wednesday started, why the ashes go on the forehead, what this has to do with a good guy getting nailed to a tree for saying we should all just get along?
I'll do my best not to get this way on Palm Sunday, but I still wonder, is it okay for normal people to walk on the palm fronds on that day, or are they only meant as a symbolic welcoming of Jesus into the churches? (Which seems odd to my. Why only welcome Jesus into your church one day a year?)
Friday, December 08, 2006
Fruity Oaty Bars Make a Man Out of a Mouse
Been pretty much ignoring this place this week, haven't I?
The week did start off with me having actual work to do since I had several hundred files at my desk that needed to be boxed and shipped to storage. I got them boxed, but the state's (or the department's) contract with UPS expired so I wasn't able to ship them. Now they just sit in the back in a pile waiting for the state (or the department) to get all up in DHL's face and get a new contract so we're not using a service that cost three times as much as we used to.
Been singing certain songs over and over again in my head. Beatles's "Girl" has been going through my head a lot lately. As has the Fruity Oaty Bars song from Serenity. There's no logic to any of it, they're just there on alternating cycles.
Been thinking a lot about what a waste going to college was. My job isn't dependent on having gone to college. I'm still more than ten thousand dollars in debt. I didn't make any lasting friendships. I was told by someone, who I had a huge crush on, that talking to me was just like talking to her sister, right after I asked her out. (Up until that point, I thought that line was just made up by John Hughes or some other teen angst writer.) The moments of academic enjoyment were few and far between. I think, if I had the chance to, I'd stop my high school self from going to college. I'd encourage the younger me to sign up for the test that I took 18 months ago and go work for the state. I'd tell me that I could go to a JC part time and eventually work my way to a university if I wanted to. I doubt I'd be any happier or healthier, but I wouldn't be so paranoid about money and maybe I'd have done some interesting things in these past nine years. Also, I can't see how me making a decision like that would negatively effect anyone around me.
That's one of the two points in my life that I can look back at and see that if I had just made one simple choice, things would be different. There's no way for me to know if they'd be way better, but I know that a couple of things would be better. Not going to college/university right out of high school would make money better. The other point would make a different thing better, but money would probably be pretty much the same.
Everyone can see moments like those, right?
We all think like this sometimes, right?
The weirdest thing is that I don't want to go peeking into those two worlds in the MWI because I'd hate to know if there's another me who's worse off and I'd hate to be the me that's worse off.
Does that make sense?
The week did start off with me having actual work to do since I had several hundred files at my desk that needed to be boxed and shipped to storage. I got them boxed, but the state's (or the department's) contract with UPS expired so I wasn't able to ship them. Now they just sit in the back in a pile waiting for the state (or the department) to get all up in DHL's face and get a new contract so we're not using a service that cost three times as much as we used to.
Been singing certain songs over and over again in my head. Beatles's "Girl" has been going through my head a lot lately. As has the Fruity Oaty Bars song from Serenity. There's no logic to any of it, they're just there on alternating cycles.
Been thinking a lot about what a waste going to college was. My job isn't dependent on having gone to college. I'm still more than ten thousand dollars in debt. I didn't make any lasting friendships. I was told by someone, who I had a huge crush on, that talking to me was just like talking to her sister, right after I asked her out. (Up until that point, I thought that line was just made up by John Hughes or some other teen angst writer.) The moments of academic enjoyment were few and far between. I think, if I had the chance to, I'd stop my high school self from going to college. I'd encourage the younger me to sign up for the test that I took 18 months ago and go work for the state. I'd tell me that I could go to a JC part time and eventually work my way to a university if I wanted to. I doubt I'd be any happier or healthier, but I wouldn't be so paranoid about money and maybe I'd have done some interesting things in these past nine years. Also, I can't see how me making a decision like that would negatively effect anyone around me.
That's one of the two points in my life that I can look back at and see that if I had just made one simple choice, things would be different. There's no way for me to know if they'd be way better, but I know that a couple of things would be better. Not going to college/university right out of high school would make money better. The other point would make a different thing better, but money would probably be pretty much the same.
Everyone can see moments like those, right?
We all think like this sometimes, right?
The weirdest thing is that I don't want to go peeking into those two worlds in the MWI because I'd hate to know if there's another me who's worse off and I'd hate to be the me that's worse off.
Does that make sense?
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
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