Enough.

I told myself that I wouldn't pontificate about the recent shooting in Aurora, Colorado. I told myself that I wouldn't stoop to the level of so many self-important, pompous, pedantic chatterboxes that seem so intent on labeling and spinning this tragedy. And yet, here I am, unable to restrain myself. Why?

Because I saw some of those chatterboxes on the morning political shows today. Of course, they were talking about the shooting, how it should prompt gun control legislation, how "crazy" people should be controlled, how it is indicative of a decay in the morals of the average citizen of the US, how violent movies and video games contribute to the death of humility, etc. etc. blah blah blah. It was the usual tripe that occurs in the wake of a shooting. As always, there will be intense argument for a few months, then it will be forgotten with the advent of some new problem.

I don't particularly care to talk about gun rights, or violence in society with this shooting, but rather the individual himself. I won't talk about this perpetrator individually, but rather the mindset of America and how it turns immediately on those exclusive individuals.

Crazy. Schizophrenic. That is what the perpetrators are always labeled. In the wake of such an event, there will always be an endless circus of doctors willing to step in front of a camera and declare these people "insane, obviously." People who knew the perpetrators, though perhaps not very well, will say things such as "he/she was always very reclusive, quiet," etc.

So many people will look for any little bit of evidence to support the notion that these people are outside the societal norm for "sane." With every little bit, no matter how tangential or loose the connection may be, the nail of "insanity" gets hit harder and harder until the perpetrator no longer has a voice due to the label.

It sickens me, honestly. These people get dismissed so easily, as if we served them up with a freshly sliced lobotomy. Let's be frank, just for a second, and I realize just how ludicrous this might sound: they are no different from even the most mundane, insipidly boring person.

Before you stop reading, consider this: each perpetrator had a reason for what they did. Columbine, Virginia Tech, Fort Bragg, Aurora, etc.; they all had their individual reasons. Now, think back to a time when you wanted something so dearly that you would do anything to get it, regardless of consequences. We've all had times like that, and for some of us, those goals are a bit more extreme than others. I, personally, hardly go out anymore (ever) because of my constant writing. Not much of a sacrifice since I barely went out in the first place, but now I actively tell people that I won't leave the house except for work.

All of these people had a reason. Disregard them if you may, ignore them, whatever. Every single person alive needs comfort and a caring ear; why else might we be so driven to find love, or gain our parents' approval, or surround ourselves with things that make us happy? We love our comfort, but it is the confidence in the person upon whom we bestow that comfort that keeps us, as some might call it, "sane."

Surprisingly enough, Marylyn Manson put it best:


I couldn't care less about his music, but Manson makes an extremely prudent point. Too often, many are self-obsessed; you might notice this in any conversation, how quickly one person or the other goes "I would have..." or "I once..." as if a personal anecdote or opinion might have any relevance.

Talk to any person for long enough and you learn their eccentricities. Maybe they believe that some invisible man created the universe with a twinkle of his finger, or maybe they believe that the Illuminati control the world, or maybe they believe that fluoride renders teeth susceptible to detection by spy satellite. No one is ever completely "normal," whatever you may believe that definition to be. Our eccentricities divide us and individualize us, and sometimes they cause us to go to extremes. I cannot begin to recall all the times I have battened down my temper to stop myself from attacking someone, or did something completely random without realizing it. These things are motivated by emotions (for those of you who don't know what they are, it's that thing you feel whenever you do well on an exam or have wet stuff falling from your eyes), and emotions are not always easy to figure out on one's own. That's why, when you find someone with whom you are comfortable, whether it is a significant other, parent, best friend, or JD-Turk bromance , you feel you are able to accurately express how you feel. It makes your head clear. It's absolutely liberating.

Without that, you would be left to the self-denigrating voices in your head. It's not a happy time.

No one is truly crazy until they are labeled as such.

That's all for now (maybe even a while; currently editing),
Das Flüg

A Centennial To Remember

Hello everyone, and welcome to my 100th post on this blog. It seems like it's been many a (one) year since I began this online journal, and so I thought that I would regale you with a yuletide story.
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all throughout Metropolis, not a sound was to be heard, not even from Lex Luthor. Back in Smallville, Clark Kent was spending his Christmas at home with his parents and his cousin Kara, enjoying his usual time of non-superhero work. It was a merry time in Metropolis; the streetlights were adorned with wreaths, the trees adorned with lights in a beautiful, if not slightly twisted, work of art. If one were to walk to streets of Metropolis, only the slight sound of carols and good cheer would be felt and heard in the frigid night air. All was peaceful, all was quiet; all was merry, all was safe. The only caveat to all this safety and joy was that it was temporary, and oh how temporary it was. At that very moment of placidity, Darkseid, Superman's longtime foe, had broken his treaty with Highfather of New Genesis and had encroached upon Highfather's territory like no interloper ever had before. He overwhelmed the New Genesis forces, reducing them to nothing more than ash and cries for help, largely unheard in the expansive universe.
With Highfather gone and New Genesis destroyed, Darkseid now had free reign to invade Earth and continue his vendetta against Superman. Utilizing his wormhole device known as a boomtube, he rounded his army and set sail for Earth.
In Metropolis, the buildings shook and the people all became quiet as a thunderous clamor came crashing down upon the tranquil city. Darkseid's army emerged from the boomtube portals, immediately wreaking havoc upon the great city of Metropolis. Darkseid's parademons, his winged servants of death, hunted down any people on the street with an ecstatic shriek of joy. Darkseid calmly stood upon his flagship, waiting. He had prepared for this moment for years. He had built up his army to the point where not even the destruction of the universe itself could stop him. Right now, seemingly, nothing could.
A call came in to Clark Kent's home in Smallville, much to his family's chagrin. Clark's mother, handing him the phone, had a worried expression. Clark asked curiously, "Hello?" "Darkseid is here. No time for pleasantries." The voice was unmistakably that of Bruce Wayne, otherwise known as Batman. He had already set his course for Metropolis and warned the other members of the Justice League, all of whom were preparing for the battle of their lives. Clark looked sadly at his mother. "Ma...I have to go. Kara." Clark motioned for his cousin. Striding swiftly, he walked outside, his cousin in tail, into the comfortably cold air. "Clark, what is it?" Kara asked, worried. Clark stared into her eyes, trying to gauge her fear. "Darkseid." At first, Kara was taken aback. Her face then became hard and her heart only sang a tune of anger. They changed and flew towards Metropolis.
In a matter of minutes, Darkseid's towering army had razed much of Metropolis. He took no part, however; No, he would wait. He would only wait for Kal-El, the prodigal son of Earth, to appear before him. He would give Kal-El a chance to yield, though he did not desire for Kal-El to...No, he wanted Kal-El to fight until his dying breath, and Darkseid would claim that final gasp as Earth's mightiest protector fell to him.
On the streets below, much of the league had been mobilized and was attempting to fight Darkseid's forces, though to not much avail. Darkseid, however, had given his army the order to not kill any members of the Justice League. He wanted them to watch.
Wonder Woman, princess of the Amazons, fought through Darkseid's massive hordes to his ship, where he simply stood on the hull, gazing into space. "Highfather will not approve of this, Darkseid. He will make you pay. Either him, or I will." Darkseid nonchalantly turned his head towards her. "He does not have a choice anymore. You, however, will not stop me." She flung herself towards him with all of her strength. Darkseid casually reached into his belt and threw what appeared to be a small metallic object. The object seemed to transform in mid-air, growing several tentacle-like objects with a long spike in the center. The object hit her square in the chest as the spike drove into the space below her sternum. The tentacles reached around to her back, where they burrowed through her skin and wrapped around her spine. Wonder Woman seemed to stop her strength in mid-air, her face frozen in an expression of pain and anger. Darkseid knocked her to the ground with a hard slap. "You are paralyzed. You will not die, as I will give you the chance to join my army after this is over. You will be a valuable commodity." With that last word he smiled and kicked her off of the platform. Unable to muster a scream, she fell, silently. Tears began to float upward, it seemed, as she fell through the air. With a mighty jolt, she stopped falling as Superman carefully lowered her to the ground. He placed her among some rubble, looking at the device that attached itself to Wonder Woman's chest. "Diana, can you speak?" No response. She could only look at him, her eyes welling. Superman examined the device and saw that it was burrowed into her spine. "Don't try to remove it." Superman turned around as Batman walked up behind him. Batman was bleeding from his left arm and legs, and seemed to have been stabbed in his right leg, as it was being held by a crimson bandage. He knelt beside her, grimacing. "She'll need microsurgery. I'll take her to a safe-" "SUPERMAN!" Darkseid's thunderous voice seemed to pause the calamity in the streets. The platform he was standing on detached itself from his ship and lowered him to the ground. Superman's face changed from one of concern to pure anger. Fire raged in his eyes as his heat vision blasted Darkseid. Superman yelled.
Darkseid stood there, absorbing the excruciating force of Superman's heat vision. It seemed to him nothing more than a distraction. "You can save all of Earth, Kal-El, if you bow to me. I will order my army to only occupy your feeble world if you swear fealty to me; otherwise, I will hang your body in my throne room and enslave everyone on this planet." Superman was surprised at Darkseid's boldness. Never had he seen Darkseid so sure of himself, and what's more, Superman had never seen him so strong. "Never." Superman flew at Darkseid with all the speed he could muster. Darkseid, in what seemed like a motion even faster than Superman, drew a glowing green dagger from his belt and drove it into Superman's heart. Superman's eyes grew with shock. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing would come out. Darkseid threw his body to the ground. Superman mustered enough strength, but only for what was his final scream. The air around Metropolis shook as Superman's final breath reverberated off of the buildings, vanishing into the sky. Kara, staring in shock from a distance, began to cry. "NO!" she screamed, throwing herself at Darkseid with all that she had. Darkseid pulled a metallic-green object from his belt which promptly linked itself with Kara as she fell to the ground beside her cousin. The Justice League could only watch with all of their members badly injured as their greatest hero, the man who inspired all, lay on the ground in front of Darkseid with his eyes staring blankly at the sky and his mouth frozen in a scream. Darkseid smirked. "Finally," he spoke regally,"I have claimed my greatest trophy."

Yeah, that's right. For Christmas, I killed Superman.

There might be a possible part II. I don't know yet.

Merry Christmas!
Das Flüg

Proposition ∞

Prop 8 was recently overturned in California. For those who don't know what Prop 8 is, it is a mandate to ban gay marriage. Of course, the decision will be appealed, most likely leading to what will become one of the more momentous Supreme Court decisions of this new century. The battle is, of course, being waged by whom one would imagine it would be: the more religious, conservative people on one side ardently pushing against the more liberal on the other. That story seems almost ubiquitous in every political situation now. What's my opinion on this, you ask? (I assume you asked. If not, well, I'll tell you anyway because I'm sure you want to know.)

To understand the religious reasoning behind the conservative argument, one has to know why the bible urges only men and women to be together, while forbidding homosexual relationships. The main reason, as could be repeated by any historian with knowledge of the time period, was the high mortality rate of children between the 1st-10th century AD (and even beyond then, until hygienic practices became standard). In order to continue the species (emphasis on continue), humans must propagate as much as possible. If only 20% of children survive after 2 years of age, make sure you try at least 10 times. Sure, the emotional devastation of losing 8 kids might be too much, but it's for the continuation of the goddamn human race. Having homosexual relationships undermines the idea of that continuation, and thus the church thought to forbid it. (On a side note, most of the "rules" in the bible are common sense aphorisms to ensure that people have as few problems as possible in life, because we all know that screwing around with your neighbor's wife can get you killed.)
As for the fallacious statements that some organizations tout which usually decry that children raised in homosexual relationships have more problems in life, they are exactly that: fallacious. They have little to no statistical evidence, or really any evidence of any kind. In fact, in my sociology class, I read a study that homosexual relationships are statistically more stable than heterosexual relationships. Shove that in your pipe and smoke it, Palin.

My opinion, as an uber-liberal, somewhat Socialist Jedi, is that each and every person has the same rights as the other. That's it. If one person has the right to marry whoever they wish, then a different person, no matter their gender, race, sexual orientation or thoughts on Batman, has that exact same right. That's it. Equal protection of the law is embedded in the Constitution of the US. Deal with it and move on.

I prefer to avoid the normative arguments about how love is universal, since this is more a matter of equal rights than equal love. Personally, I'm glad that Prop 8 has been turned on its side. It's a victory for equal rights and a step toward a better future for the US. With the erasure of Prop 8, maybe, hopefully, eventually the conservative and mundane will realize that love and equal rights are infinite and not beholden to any restraints.

That's all for now,
Das Flüg

Uh-oh, where are my das pants?

So, as I was driving my car today, I heard someone mention Perez Hilton on the radio. I began thinking, what makes Perez Hilton so special? Is it because he's gay? Is it because his name is a play on Paris Hilton's name? Is it because he looks like a poor conception of a Japanese anime girl?

It could be one, it could be all three.

What he is, obviously, is an attention whore. Honestly, most bloggers are (aside from those who actually have something substantive to write, such as journalists). My blog is more like a creative outlet for me, where I can basically write my thoughts and general feelings about some stupid ephemeral junk that comes to my mind. But, when I look at someone like Perez Hilton (and I REALLY hate looking at him. He looks like Richard Simmons on a bad acid trip, except without the toned quadriceps.), I am reminded of how small our lives are.
Seriously, think about it. We WANT our opinions and feelings to matter. We WANT to be remembered for having strong, righteous, moralistic (in our own minds, at least) opinions. We want to be known. We know somewhere, in the back of our minds, that our lives and thoughts mean very little in the world.
That also sparked some neurosynapses; if we really want to make a mark on the world, be remembered for something, why not make it something great? Why not help those who can't help themselves? Why not go to Africa and teach horticulture to those who see hardly a drop of rain each year? Instead of talking about how celebrities eat too much pizza and have too many adopted kids, why not do something worthwhile with your life?

Well, there's my rant for the week. Now, I shall hibernate in my cave, waiting until Spring comes. If you come to annoy me, well...I'll just have to eat you. With some hot sauce.

Everything goes well with hot sauce.

Das Flüg