2010. február 2. A Lost című sorozat végső évadjához érkezik, a szerzők pedig elvarrják a szálakat. Nincs még egy sorozat, amely ennyi türelmet igényelt volna a nézőitől, ugyanakkor nincs még egy sorozat, amely ennyit adott volna türelmünkért cserébe. A kezdeti, lassú drámában kibontakozó hajszálvékony sci-fi szál minden epizódot átfogó, időcsavarokba és ókori mitológiába szőtt kolosszussá bontakozott ki, későn kapott válaszainak gyökerét pedig meglepetten fedezzük fel már az első epizódokban is. Egyszerre intellektuális, drámai és populáris fikció; mitikus és szimbolikus elemekkel jócskán fűszerezett, nemlineáris felépítésű eposz, napjaink legnagyobb hatású televíziós jelensége… lassan véget ér. A kör bezárul, a rejtélyek feloldódnak. Alternatív valóságokban, ókori civilizációkban, dzsungel-borította időgépek között, tenger alatt, sivatag mélyén, városok óriáscégeinek irodáiban, jégbe fagyott kamrákban, idegen emberi testben, relativitáselméletben… nos, mindenhol elvesztünk, de vajon hová lyukadunk ki 2010 első felében?

Drinking stolen wine, and smoking cigarettes rolled from the pages of a bible, I begin again.

-sigh-

When you really break it all down, what’s the point of it all?  I ask myself.  I’ve asked this numerous times, only to have the answer bite me in the ass over and over and over again.  I’ve pissed away a good few years worth of Life in the search for ‘It All’ and all I’ve really come up with is ‘Just Because’.  There remains a distance I try to keep between me and the words I write, but I realize that the distance is what becomes me.  No matter the content, intent, or goal, it’s all just another attempt to find meaning to it all in the world around me.  Something that has been tried hundreds, or thousands, or millions of times before this one.  Whatever the number that has proceeded this single attempt amongst many, I move forward, claiming neither experience nor insider tips towards the matter.  After all, I’m just one voice amongst the millions on the Internet that feels the need to throw their thoughts at the ink and see what sticks to the paper after the initial shit storm has passed.

I’ve never had formal schooling, and while I wish I had, that option hasn’t presented itself as yet, though I know I can’t just wait for opportunities to appear, but must make the opportunities for the one who would take them as they come.  Namely, Me.  This really goes for anyone else out there that would begin as I would; Ass Backwards and trying to figure out just what the fuck is going on in this world.  I know others like myself exist.  I know I’m not unique, and if I am, I’m unique just like anyone else you could pick from this floating ball of rock, hurtling through space at about 67,000 miles per hour.  Hell, even my American upbringing has distanced me from the rest of the globe as everyone else uses the metric system.  If I could simulate rolling my eyes here, I would.

Whatever the case may be, I made a choice to keep going in the direction I’m in, and do my damned best to keep myself going, no matter how bad things get.  And believe me, things get pretty damn bad, especially for one as imaginative as myself.  There’s all forms of danger to be lurking in the blackness of the unknown, waiting around every corner to trip and devour you at the slightest sign of weakness.  That’s the world for you.  Fierce, vicious, and none too picky about what it devours to keep going.  Earth is a monstrous engine that is fueled by the blood of Man.  We die so that it might continue.  If humans died out completely, Earth would advance and forget about us.  We are short lived, troublesome, violent, and self destructive.  It’s bound to happen eventually, right?  Well, judging by the patterns at least.  Earth has a memory, but one that measures against the Galactic Ruler.  Our one hundred year bottle rockets are no match at all for the Class D bombs it has to deal with.

We are here and gone in a blink of an eye.  Look at our history and you’ll notice that the longer we lived, the longer we were able to keep ourselves alive, the more logical our deductions about our home became.  When our lives were capped at around thirty to forty years we worshiped anything that we did not understand, and back then, that was just about anything we saw.  As the years progressed we came to understand our surroundings and the ball of rock we lived on.  Hell, for the longest the world was thought to be flat.  You can even compare this to the way humans think about things.  It’s never as multidimentional as we’d like it to be, being only able to observe (for the most part) in a 2-D to 3-D point of view.  When you introduce meditation, ‘outside-the-box-’ thinking, etc, we really only add a fraction of what really is.  That the world is but an atom in the unfathomable build of a gigantic dildo, placed away in someone’s closet until the next moment the husband, wife, or dry spell comes up, is only a small percentage in the whole fucking system of it all.  For all we know, we’re atoms that make up the code of a horrible virus that is, right as you are reading this, tearing the life from a life force that has family, friends, and lovers as you all do.

Who cares, right?  We’re either too big or too small to give credit to such things?  We aren’t effected by the events of these worlds, so why bother thinking of them?  Why not?  Why not give into these ponderings in the dark?  Because it shakes what you are to the core.  It challenges your set views of a world where You are the biggest, most valuable, pawn on the whole chess board, and a polite ‘Go fuck yourself’ to anything that would challenge this existence where You remain an ‘Important’ piece in the Game of Life.  Perspective kicks us in the balls again as we delve into the possibilities that we aren’t the Big Cheese in the main run of things.  Even that line of thinking can be credited to Religion.

I really don’t want to get into a discussion of religion right now because it would ruin my buzz, but I’ll just end this topic here by saying that Religion has been the biggest cause of Death in our entire existence as sentient creatures on this this floating rock.

We believe because we CAN.

At any rate, I’m off to bed.

Fuck you, fuck your beliefs, and most of all, fuck bananas.  Because I can almost never remember how to spell the fucking things…

Whatever,

Peace and enlightenment be upon you Traveler.

~K.S.

Imagine a road that leads to a destination. There is long line of vehicles and they are moving slowly. You can only see the car in front of you. You can’t quite see the destination, but the you have an idea where the road will end. Suddenly cars start to split off to form another column moving parallel to you. Every other car moves to form the new column. For a while all the cars are going in the same direction, until there is a fork in the road. The newly formed column takes one road and you and the others take another road. You start to ask yourself, which column should you be following, and how long do you follow. Do you stay as long as you feel comfortable and as long as there are others who keep you company, or do you decide to venture off? Who is to say the car in front of you knows the way? Could it be they were just following the car in front of them? What if there were many splits and newly formed columns, but you were only aware of what was happening in front of you? How do you find your way home?

Even more, what if the cars were individuals? What if the columns of cars were different beliefs? What if the road was life? What if the destination was God? What if it wasn’t God? Who or what are we to trust? Would you leave the answer to these questions in the hands of others, or do you decide? Perhaps we’ll never know the answer to any of these questions, but we can trust? We can choose to trust or we can follow blindly.

Can’t Practice Life

“When I say something, please just listen,
if I don’t get what I need, I’ll be gone in an instant.
You have it all wrong, we will not always glisten,
Happiness is our peak, we can only grow distant.

Why do I use so much of my time with you?
Why do I give so much of my thoughts to you?
Why do I spend so much of my money on you?
when 99 percent of the time, it never comes true.

The things I’ve given you have been too high of a price,
and until this very moment, I have never thought twice.
I will give you many chances, to avoid any strife,
but soon your effort will not be enough, I can’t practice life.”

-Dennis Oh



Central Florida Future – http://bit.ly/8KleHL

By Cassie Turner

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Published: Friday, November 20, 2009

Updated: Friday, November 20, 2009

Caitlin Bush

"Most Americans do not know slavery not only exists in the world today, it flourishes," said Ron Soodalter, co-author of The Slave Next Door, in his presentation in the Pegasus Ballroom Monday morning.

"Somewhere around 27 million people are in bondage in the world today. Now, that’s over twice the number as were trafficked in chains in the entire 350 years of the African slave trade."

Soodalter, an active abolitionist and historian, kicked off International Education Week at UCF as the keynote speaker for the Second Annual International Breakfast. The Slave Next Door presentation concluded the three-part series on "Slavery’s Resurgence" facilitated by the Office of the Special Assistant to the President for Global Perspectives and the International Services Center.

The series began with Somaly Mam, a Cambodian human rights activist, former slave and author of The Road of Lost Innocence: The True Story of a Cambodian Heroine, when she shared her experiences in September.

In October, Micheline Slattery, a human-rights activist and former restavek, or domestic child slave, in both Haiti and the United States, addressed about 300 attendees.

Modern-day slavery includes around 800,000 men, women and children trafficked each year around the world. According to the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement Web site, about 17,500 of them end up in the United States, with a high percentage received in Florida.

Soodalter suggests a simple Google search on human trafficking for astounding results.

In spite of major federal legislation and anti-trafficking laws passed in 43 states, 103 human-trafficking convictions have resulted, Soodalter said.

Trafficking remains hidden, is largely unreported and difficult to identify. According to the 2009 Trafficking in Persons, or TIP, report, published by the U.S. Department of State, forced labor/involuntary servitude represents the majority of human-trafficking cases in the world. The co-author of Soodalter’s book,  Kevin Bales, wrote the original 156-page TIP report, titled “Trafficking Persons in the United States — A Report to the National Institute of Justice.”

“The whole thing is disserving and extending,” said retired UCF foreign language professor David Gurney. “It contributes to the antagonism from people in underdeveloped countries to Western civilizations or Western countries.”

In the 1850s, purchasing a slave ran roughly $1,200, the equivalent of around $40,000 in today’s money. The reality is purchasing a slave today costs as little as $100, which makes them affordable and disposable, Soodalter said.

A trafficking victim lives in fear of violence or the threat of violence daily, he said.

Shawn Cox, victim witness coordinator and licensed clinical social worker with the United States Attorney’s Office, advocates that trafficking is a crime of absolute power over someone. According to the report Cox co-authored, “Victims of Human Trafficking and Trauma,” the psychological consequences of a victim are similar to the consequences of severe or chronic child abuse or experiencing acts of terrorism.

"In case you thought slavery doesn’t touch you, guess again," Soodalter said. "Chances are, the clothes you wear, the food you eat, has been touched by slavery."

The good news is there have been some inroads made recently in the area of agricultural servitude, Soodalter said. When Taco Bell refused to stop buying produce picked by enslaved workers in an effort known as the "Ban the Bell" campaign, it set a precedent that several other companies, including McDonalds, A&W, Long John Silver’s, Pizza Hut, Whole Foods, Chipotle and Burger King, have followed, Soodalter said.

"The message is clear," Soodalter said. "Slavery and worker abuse will not be tolerated. Not here, not now, not ever."

Mark Freeman, public affairs coordinator for the Global Perspectives Office, said they are hoping to continue the series next spring since response has been incredible. Because of the series last spring, students on campus were so spurred into action they formed the unofficial student group “Students Against Slavery @ UCF,” Freeman said. “Students Against Slavery @ UCF” has a Facebook page, and Harry Coverston serves as the faculty advisor for the group.

"Spreading the word is the most important thing," said Frank Hegedus, a senior political science and international relations major. "There is only right now."

http://www.centralfloridafuture.com/abolitionist-historian-wraps-up-global-perspectives-series-1.2093273

or: I’ll trade you civil liberties circa 1980, for the right to beat your wife circa 1920

or: If Glenn Beck were a decade, which one would he be?

For almost a year now, and even further back possibly, I have been fascinated with politics and punditry. I have become a self-proclaimed politico and I follow politics and media pretty closely, as closely as my tenuous hold on sanity will allow. In following politics my liberal mind has always been perplexed by the conservative party line of ‘returning to traditional American values’ and trying to recapture the ‘lost spirit of what it is to be an American’. In recent months it as been the loud ram’s horn call of Glenn Beck, and his ever growing audacity matched only by his ever growing audience, that has caused me to pontificate further on this subject. For the past few weeks this idea of lost values and traditional American fundamentals has led me to research where we might have gone wrong. Is there a specific time and place, a particular era that the GOP and other right-leaning hard-liners would want us to return to? If I can put my finger on the ethos that these guiding principles existed in, can we get back there? I delve in to this quagmire of American history to try and find “Glenn’s America”, so that he and others can stop preaching in general broad strokes and say, “we need to get back to what we believed in 19XX (or 18XX as it may be).”

When examining the general party ideas of what I understand to be the GOP’s fundamental idealogical structure I take my understanding from some 25 years on this planet, though you can’t count the first 16. I think that until you turn 17 and start trying to find yourself and begin to shape your views and identity in preparation for voting and contributing to society you are more of a blank slate in terms of personal free thought; up until this point you do not question a source but only try to fit in to the general parameters of ‘normal’ life as to not rock the boat and interfere with the indoctrination that American public schools instill in our youth. My true views have been shaped in my most recent years and as such I have adopted a view of the world quite different from my parents’, a direct result of informing myself for the first time in my life. In my home growing up as a small boy liberal leaders and democratic ideals warranted venom and crass, lewd criticism. The views I set forth will be of my own creation, independent of those I was raised on, either despite or in spite of them, I cannot tell. A crazy person isn’t crazy if he knows he’s crazy. Indeed.

The GOP seems to feel that gays should not marry, and are sinful. This makes no sense to me as sinful is a religious idea, not a political one; though it seems one position is quite often the result of the other. Gun rights should be protected at all costs to personal safety and public responsibility. Abortion is a no-no, ‘nuff said. They want smaller government, tax cuts, reform to let states decide things, though not gay marriage rights or any of the other items I just mentioned. They are for fiscal responsibility. GOP feels that a free market should regulate itself, again smaller government. They claim to fight for the middle class but public programs and universal anything is bad, that’s more government. They hate the environment as far as I can tell. Campaign finance reform (yeah right), education in America (no child left behind has gone so well after all). Prayer in school is ok, capital punishment and the death penalty are pretty much thumbs up, and the Ten Commandments should be at the steps of a courthouse flying the confederate flag. I am pretty close on this, right? So, basically it is a small government that has an abridged copy of the constitution, a cliff’s notes of the Bill of Rights, and a bible as it’s guiding principles. Hmmm, ok.

So, in American history, where can we find this utopia we strive for every day? This shangri-la we lost so long ago would obviously be the one saving grace for this country of godless sodomites. If we could only return to this point in time then everything would be fine. As far as I can tell it is the GOP that can save us if you believe the rhetoric. The liberals and the liberal media have scattered us across the nation and we are divided along partisan lines and are all doomed unless we jump on the Republican band wagon like some lifeboat after the Titanic sank. This is what self proclaimed “libertarian” Glenn Beck would like you to believe. I will give him credit for criticizing the government as a whole, even in the Bush days, though not in such inflammatory terms, but in reality he is like a Liber-publican. So, let’s take a step, Glenn, in to the way back machine and start a search for the time in American history you would like us to return to, as well as all of the Republican nay-sayers.

I want to start by saying that I am skipping the nineties completely being that he wasn’t happy with Clinton either, and it is far too close to the 21st century and the liberal progress this country has made; there is no way anyone wants to get back to how we were in the nineties, not even me and I loved my teen years in the nineties. And I am going to come back to the eighties later, they were too soon as well, but I will look at them briefly. We are sending our way back machine to a time when I think this country went bat-shit crazy and we were in maybe the most turmoil as a nation than anyone today can recall. I want to start out in the era that good old Glenn was born in, and that many of our current figure heads today, that make our decisions, can remember very ‘fondly’…the sixties.

Well I start here, in this decade of utter unrest by trying to illustrate that this can’t possibly be the America Glenn wants back. This cannot be the period in American history we want to recapture. This was a time that the late Strom Thurman must have hated with more zeal than any other period in history. It is hard to decide where to start. The sixties started out innocent enough, Kennedy beat Nixon and became the President, what followed was the Bay of Pigs incident, rumors about Marilyn, the meager beginning of Vietnam, the cuban missile crisis, then the man is assassinated. Further Vietnam BS, Malcolm X is killed, the Compton Cafeteria Riots in San Fran, then Nixon and all his Vietnam BS and his ‘secret plan to end the war’, the massive inflation crisis, MLK Jr. is killed, Bobby Kennedy is killed, the Stonewall riots of ’69, oh and a little thing who was named Manson did some killing. Great decade.

The sixties were a time of massive riots in the black and gay communities. Civil rights on all fronts tore the fabric of this country apart from women liberation, blacks, gays, even the Chicano revolution in this country. Outside of that was the acid wave of the sixties, a complete change in television, film, art, and especially music. The counterculture as it came to be known galvanized this country after the death of JFK, I think. The nice, homely manners of the 50’s were gone in a big way and now came very free thinkers, revolutionaries, protests exploded, demonstrations, inflation choked the middle class as they tried to compete with the changes in the landscape. The sixties were an ugly, hate-filled time, the emerging civil rights movement after the death of JFK was really the catalyst for it all. There is no way we want to return to the sixties as a country. America was in a violent turmoil and unsure of it’s identity and where the road we were on was going to lead us and people were strung out or scared for their lives, or both. I don’t think Glenn wants that back, so let’s move on.

How about we take a step forward and find Glenn in the seventies as a small boy, maybe these are the innocent and moral times he wants back…but I doubt it. Well in the seventies music really got good including the first ‘rap’ song, movies got weird, TV got lewd, and the country just got fucked up worse. This country started watching shows like All In The Family and the Brady bunch, dealing with some of the issues of the day. Vietnam choked the first few years while a little thing called Watergate slipped by the news press during Nixon’s re-election campaign and then killed him by ’74. It was the most embarrassing and shocking scandal in American political history, which in my opinion was the death of politics. I think that Nixon and his escalation of the doomed Vietnam war and his scandal killed the American political system. Outside of the US revolution was abundant across the world. Woodstock was a shining beacon of what drugs and music and mud can do for young people, a complete change from how we started the decade on the campus of Kent State where the National Guard gunned down peaceful protestors of the war on a college campus; unthinkable today, one would hope. The draft was the height of outrage, an unbelievable moment when Ali fought the draft and Elvis went in. Protest and anti-war sentiment was as widespread in this country as pant legs were flared. The Cold War ramped up a bit and this country got really scared, really fast. Our involvement in a few revolutions and military coupes as well as an assassination or two was a continuation of poor foreign affairs decisions. The middle east started down the road to where we are today with Israel, Egypt, Syria, the Soviet Union, and Afghanistan, all starting to kick each others asses.

The seventies brought women’s rights to the forefront as the sixties had civil rights for minorities eclipsing women’s rights to some extent. Vietnam ended finally, well our involvement, leaving the North to just wait for us to leave and drop Saigon to it’s knees and claim the country unified again. A sad end to a war we should have not been in and an end that was mostly our fault. Oh and lest I forget the massive recession we were in mixed with oil crises a couple of times resulting in rationing and further middle class stresses that included a very high unemployment rate. Then of course there was Jonestown, about 900 dead there. Idi Amin started his tyrannical, violent rule of Uganda as well. Is this the era we should return to? Hatred, war, violence, and tragedy pock marked this era. The seventies hold within their years scandal, racism, and fear-mongering, of the most epic scale one can imagine. There is no way we want to return to the moral or political views of this era. The seventies were the time for change for sure, but it came at great expense on the heels of a decade of radical change and upheaval. The 70’s continued the massive crime rate spikes that the sixties brought and the country still sat on the edge of it’s seat every day as nothing seemed to get better. Surely we don’t want the seventies back.

Ok, the eighties might be better, the days of Reagan and Bush, this might be the most likely time we want to return to. The eighties would be the most formidable years of Beck’s life; the decade of excess. The eighties brought the yuppie, and with it, all the coke, parties, and BMW’s we could handle. We saw great multinational growth and wall street was glamorous, they were kings then, still total scum, but they had better PR people then. Of course Reagan declared a War on Drugs, the Cold War raged to a massive scale. Sure, communism fell apart as did the Berlin Wall, but we saw the further mishandling of the middle east that is the source of our problems and involvement there today, can’t argue with that. Reagan put a major black eye on his presidency with the discovery of the Iran-Contra debacle that Oliver North was the mastermind behind. This country saw massive economic growth against the backdrop of very complicated and protracted battles all over the world including Asia, the middle east, central and south america, and ever Ireland with ‘the troubles’ brewing. (Only badass Irish would call a modern, religious civil war ‘the troubles’, an understatement to say the least)

The eighties, I think were a time of thinking that we could not be beaten, being the short attention span of Americans forgetting the seventies. We were coked out of our minds, living beyond our means, and we were kicking Commie ass. But the eighties, world wide, were complicated, painful growth, some democratic, but on the whole we saw massive famine and destruction abroad as the industrialized countries were making head way. The middle class of nations was being evaporated as the gap between rich and poor nations grew drastically. Domestic issues were tough though, as it seemed we were trying to use our power for good as a people with things like LiveAid and becoming more aware of issues in Africa and other countries, the eighties saw the rise of the religious right. They really got fired up on the gay issue and the discovery of AIDS, ‘the gay plague’. This country grew in many way, a decent decade I guess, I don’t really remember much of it but it seemed like a lot of people were having a lot of fun, safer fun.

Glenn probably liked the eighties, he used to be a liberal and an alcoholic, he draws a fine parallel between the two in a Katie Couric interview you should look up on YouTube, and this might have been his favorite time. Old enough to enjoy and understand it, he probably had a great time. Conservatives in power, strides made internationally, excess and money everywhere. The eighties were a wild party time, a decade that seemed to be a release of the past twenty years of hard work, growing pains, and controversial conflict. The 60’s and 70’s were going to lead inevitably to a time when we finally just cut loose and took a deep breath after so much bloodshed, upheaval, and serious talk. It was the decade we all remembered fondly on VH1. Music was weird, movies were great, TV was filled with classics we all watched, and standup comedians were making it big; the country was having a good laugh, a bump, and some beer. Not too bad.

I discount the nineties entirely so let’s jump back to a more general era I don’t think we can reasonably go back to, the 50’s to the 30’s. This was another era of massive wars, depression, civil rights injustice, bigotry, no women’s liberation, industrialization, organized crime, et al. These were times when blacks were openly hung from gallows, women were expected to be barefoot and pregnant in front of the stove, except when they were making tanks for the troops overseas for next to nothing wages. A time where minorities were rightfully scared at night of police or white boys out for a joyride. The prohibition, crime in the streets, Bonnie and Clyde, the Tommy gun, the B.A.R., saloons, speakeasy’s, and rampant bank robberies and crooked cops on the beat. This was a different time for this country and I don’t think we can agree with many of the ideals that were held to in this time and apply it today, the role of women alone is too much inequality to bare, let alone the rest.

OK, let’s take a big jump to my favorite era, the old west. You know the times, I’m talking post manifest destiny, pre-FBI. A time of no gun laws, showdowns in the streets, legal prostitutes, and riding in to town on a horse. Tombstone, San Francisco, Indian and cowboys. A time where gold was rushing and crazy white drunks ran amok and contracted TB and polio. Yes, when there were still a few Indians around, you had ranchers with thousands of acres, cattle drives, train robberies, and the men of storied legend lived and died by Winchester, Colt, and Smith&Wesson. I like to think I lived in the times with a town sheriff, shitty beer, floozies, and general martial law over most of the country. A time where you could shoot a man in the street in broad daylight in front of 50 people, and they might actually clap and then go about their day. The good times.

I think this might not be far enough back though. When I hear Glenn speak, he talks about the founding father’s principles. The true foundation of the country as he sees it with the men who earned America through blood, sweat, and tears. Jefferson’s America. OK, well let’s first examine the fact that we are talking late 1700’s and early 1800’s. These are pre-electric, pre-phone times. We are talking Boston Tea Party, Paul Revere, plantations, etc. If this is the time Glenn thinks we need to get back to I want to highlight a couple of things. First off, slavery was alive and well…need I say more? Secondly, this country treated women like shit, there were no civil rights, and it was unindustrialized. This country was populated and run by rich, white land owners, and then there was everybody else. I don’t want anyone to romanticize this era. This country was created, founded, and declared on the bodies of millions of natives and the death and suffering of minority races of people removed from their homes and treated worse than dogs in the time period.

America has never been truly righteous. We revolted for selfish reasons, nothing simpler than that. We turned against the imperialism of the Queen and her rule and declared our independence; the worst “dear John” letter ever. Up to that point we had slaughtered, tricked, infected, raped, and pillaged our way to the Mississippi and thought very highly of white skin and could kill a black man for any reason at any time, or sell them, whatever struck our fancy. What I am about to say is going to piss off the right, but if I could meet George Washington I think I would take the opportunity to shake his hand and then slap the wooden teeth out of his head. These were racist white bigots with an knack for the written word and hard on for ‘freedom’ by their definition as it applied to them as an emerging nation of first class citizens at the top of the shit pile. All due respect, but their ideas and principles were fundamentally offensive and their beliefs of equality were for themselves and those they agreed with. How many minorities or women were running around enjoying their freedom of speech or right to bare arms…or even read? I rest my case.

So maybe Glenn does have a time in mind. Maybe he wants the scandalous, violent 70’s, or the civil unrest and inequality of the 60’s. The old west certainly had smaller/non-existent national government, and the 40’s sure were good times to be a gangster, Nixon would have done well, that’s for sure. The eighties surely had the best coke, and some unprecedented growth, outside of post-industrialized America (without all of these pesky labor laws we got). Maybe he wants the great depression era, maybe to live amongst the greatest generation, or rub elbows with white men who raped their slaves on their plantation as a matter of principle and patriotism. The history of America is short, embarrassing, and seemingly without a lesson learned throughout. Glenn, I dare you and your constituents to point out that shining beacon in American history that is so much better than now, ‘cause I must have missed it. All those moments have led up to now, and I’ll be damned if where we are isn’t a hell of a lot better than where we were; you can pry this progress from my cold dead hands, pal.

Back when I went to the first pre-season game it was suggested that I go to a regular season.  The Colts were still available and that was the game to go to.  Mainly because of the rivalry after Indianapolis stole the Baltimore Colts.  I never will look at a Mayflower moving van the same way.

I got up early, fed the horses, and took a shower.  When I dressed, I knew exactly what I wanted to wear.  Team Smitty T-shirt on the bottom.  The Ravens long sleeved shirt that I got for John for Christmas in the middle.  The Jersey that John got me for Christmas on top.  Luckily, I managed to pull off the look without appearing like some child wearing 20 layers before going out to play in the snow.

John’s Aunt watched Nathaniel and from what I hear the two of them had a marvelous day.  Nathaniel was appropriately dressed in a Ravens jersey as well.

I had my first tailgating experience.  Mmmm… delicious.  I’m not a drinker or a party person, but it was fun to do something different and hang out with adults.  I didn’t have to spoon feed anybody and everybody was capable of getting food into their mouths and not requiring me to wipe food off of their noses.

Tailgating

The girls- Karen, Kari, & Me

After fun, merriment, and full tummies, we headed in to watch the game.

Before we went to our seats there was a stop at the ladies room.  I had to smile and think of John.

When John was interested in purchasing the PSLs he was big time trying to sell me on the idea.  I’d never been to a game.  I thought the PSLs and tickets were way too expensive.  Club level is for the upper-crust… I’m firmly in the filling layer.  On the flip side.  John had been diagnosed stage III and I never wanted to interfere with dreams.  I didn’t want him to ever be dying and say, “I wish I’d gotten the Ravens PSLs like I wanted…”  Without dreams… what are we?

John had stopped by the stadium on his way home from work to see the seats.  When he came home he had a glow on his face and was so excited to tell me about them.

He told me about the nice heated lounges… how the seats were under an overhang and would be protected from the weather… and how close our section was to the ladies bathroom…

I never argued with John about the tickets… he wanted them so badly.  If we could make it work then it was fine with me.  We got a loan and I was supposed to get fence out of the arrangement, but that is still yet to happen.

Smiling thinking of John

Somewhere I see some irony… John… the john… lol…

John was a thinking… he did things on his own time and thought them through.  Sometimes, I appreciated it.  Sometimes, it would drive me batty.  Now, I miss it…

Me in our seats

The view

Sadly, John never got to use his tickets of course if I’m right, he has the best seat in the house.

John certainly didn’t help the Ravens out today.  But, if I know my husband, his answer would be… they need to do it on their own.  They shouldn’t need my help.

The game was exciting.  We lost by two points.  Had we played better we could have won.  Had they played better they could have won by more.  You win some and you lose some– in life an on the football field.  But, even when you loose it doesn’t mean that you can’t enjoy the experience– on the football field and in life…

I wish I didn’t have to write this.  I am so upset and disappointed in myself.  If you read my last post you already know the back story to our toilet learning process with M.  It has been very frustrating because we have gotten mixed signals.  He will work with his preschool teacher on sitting on the potty, but not us.  He likes wearing big boy underwear, but won’t potty in the potty or anything else, including diapers at school.  And finally, he ended up hitting a wall on Friday.  It was like the holding it in thing at school was just physical training for the main event.

On Friday, as I mentioned in the last post, he had an accident at school at about 9am and then didn’t go the rest of the day even though he had a diaper on.  Well, here is the kicker… he went to bed that night without going potty, woke up dry, and was dry the whole next day.  Friday night he woke up at 1:30am wiggling and whining.  I tried to tell him to just go in his diapers, let it out.  I tried rubbing his tummy, etc.  He fell back to sleep, but did the same thing at 2:45am, 4:30am, and 6:00am.  Between him and A’s snoring, I only managed 4 hours of sleep.  I had to be up for a work retreat that morning so I headed out.  I was stunned when I got a call from A asking if I had changed M’s diaper before I left because it was still dry.  We agreed to have A talk to M and tell him that we are not going to work on the potty stuff for a while and that it is totally fine for him to use his diaper.

My mom picked him up later and brought him to Brown County where I was so they could spend the day and then stay the night at the hotel with me.  I kept calling to see if he would finally let loose.  By 4 pm he still hadn’t and I was freaked out.  He was still begging to change his diaper even if he was dry and would sometimes do the pee pee dance.  At this point I asked A to call our doctor and see what we should do.  His text back made my heart sink!

“Not good baby.  We need to take him to the ER.  He said it is unheard of that a 3year old could hold it for close to 24 hours.  It doesn’t happen.  If he hasn’t had a wet diaper then something else is up. It’s not a UTI either.  He said, with a UTI he would automatically have spasms and it would be coming out even if it hurt when it did.  He said we need to get him to the ER to have an ultrasound done.”

Now, please keep in mind that by this point it had actually been 33 hours since he had peed!  And a full 2 days since a bowel movement.  I read this in my retreat and was instantly in tears.  Being me, I had been talking to everyone about him so they all knew what was going on when they saw my face and heard me say ER.  I remember hearing one person say “Hold it together Crystal cause it won’t do him any good”.  I gathered my composure, grabbed my mom and M and we set out for the ER in Bloomington.

I was very thankful that it was a slow night there.  We got right in and they started gathering information.  They took us to a room and brought in a special bladder ultrasound to measure the amount of urine in his bladder.  We had to restrain him for this because he wouldn’t lay still.  I felt so horrible just because I knew he was scared.  At least I knew they weren’t hurting him.  After it was done, which was very quick, I picked him up.  Suddenly I felt warmth radiating from his diaper and I shouted “He’s peeing he’s peeing!!!”  Sure enough, he let totally loose as we all (even the Nurse Practitioner) did the pee pee dance.  I think it was a mixture of the relief of not being restrained and the slight vibration of the ultrasound tool that did it.  I was so relieved.  It was a miracle.  They basically laughed and said he should be fine.  The doctor that came to see us just before we left said that there is always one that will prove you wrong (about the other doc saying he couldn’t be holding it) and that that was some determination (you’re telling me!!).  He also mentioned that his own grandson is 4 and just became daytime potty trained.  I got what he was saying… don’t worry about backing off, it will happen.

When we got back to the hotel he began insisting that I change his diaper even though it was dry.  After 3 hours of this, (at 1am!) I decided to make the 2 hour drive home, just to change the scene if nothing else.  I am glad I followed my gut.  About 30 minutes into the trip he peed and pooped.  He then slept the rest of the night.  He did the same thing in the morning, but each time the insisting was for shorter amounts of time before he produced something.  So, I feel we are on the right track now.

Can you believe this?  A 3.5 year old so persistent and stubborn that he would withhold urinating for 34 hours!?!?!?!  I told you he is MORE!  During all of this I was a mess of guilt and frustration.  I was crying to my mother that I felt so bad but was doing all I could do.  There are just no books for a kid like him.  The only books that talk about strong-willed kids talk about discipline or just living with them and understanding them.  No one talks about the other things, like the weaning off things, toilet learning, sleeping alone, etc.  There are no guides for parents like me.  I looked at her and said “They don’t make a book for him!”.  She looked at me and said “Maybe you are supposed to write it”.  Wow… what an amazing and scary thought.  So, maybe I will one day.  Until then, I will share these experiences as openly and honestly as I can here.

We have decided to remove the underwear (unless he requests them) and just stick with diapers, forget the potty, and just let him be.  We told him that he can tell us if he ever wants to try, and after a few weeks will begin the discussion again.  But for now, we are taking a total break.  There is nothing like the ER for a wake up call.  It doesn’t matter when he does it, just that he does it in a way that builds him up as a person.  It has to be on his schedule and his pace.  No one else matters.  And until he is done, when people ask us if he is potty trained, I will be confident in saying that a trip to the ER puts it all in perspective so no, not just yet.

Time to break my silence… I’ve been secretly working on a small project (which is technically complete already) and it is called…

Here it goes…

Once upon a time, there was a handsome long haired guy on his way to OBEERTIME (A beerhouse) to drink booze stumbled upon this… American guy who is currently lost and had no idea where he was and how to get back and asking for help.

Fortunate for the American, the long haired guy can understand english… barely. Join Mr. Long Haired Guy (who is not really familiar with Makati City himself) as we go around Makati City in the middle of the night while helping Mr. American find his way home using only a bunch of not so helpful hints.

This game is (again) technically “complete” just testing to see if we missed anything and see if there is still room for improvement. Release date is most likely within this month.

Here are a couple of screenshots…

Look forward to it…

“POOF” (Disappears)

Hello darlings. Fall semester is finally coming to a fucking end and I could not be any happier. I have been miserably trying (with no success it seems) to get decent grades in my psychology courses. It does not help that I have the SAME teacher in my two psych classes. It does not help psychology is my goddamn major and I suck at it. But, it is okay. I will survive and kill myself studying for finals so that I get at least B’s in them. Wish me luck because I swear of God I need to step my game up. This just farther confirms that I am a complete dumbfuck… I have been trying so damn hard this semester and it just doesn’t seem to pay off. Then again, other people in my classes are struggling too. It has gone to the point of people complaining to the university about my teacher exams of doom (the format is wack).

At any rate, I finally signed up for the classes I am going to take spring semester. I don’t want to get ahead of myself because it seems every time I am happy about something shit goes wrong. But, I have a good feeling about next semester. I am not taking as many hours and I have a class with one of my good friends. Plus, one of the psych courses I am going to take it’s with the teacher I have mentioned in previous posts. The SEXY, SUBLIME, UTTERLY DIVINE who’s only downfall is that he is also extremely neurotic. Yes, I know.I am a masochist but I really want to take that course, his exams are not that bad and the hot factor is just a major plus. God, he is hot… Am I weird for liking older men? I mean, I see a pattern here. Oh well, it’s not like I get any lovin’. Mama needs to lust after something.

This Thursday I went dancing and Thursday to a party.It was alright. The nightclub was packed and I got asked to dance by a bunch of weirdos and fatties. Just my cup of tea! Friday, I didn’t stay that long at the party but I made some videos that I shall post on here. Every time I face any situation that involves those kinds of settings and interactions I feel like such an outsider. As if I just  don’t belong and people can sense how utterly flaw I am. It may be I am just paranoiac or  SAD kicking in…

Before I forget mentioning it, I saw CVS boy after not seeing him since June. Needless to say it was weird as fuck. Just as I was coming into the store with my mom (yikes) we said hi to each other and he got extremely excited. He opened his arms and said my name and I just smiled at him and kept walking. WTF? Yeah, because I totally am going to walk to the counter and give you a hug. Hell naww! I don’t like people touching me and we are not buddies. Don’t get me wrong, I am not bitter but I hate hypocrites. Don’t pretend you know me and we are friends because bitch we ain’t. I am such a gangsta. Right.

Sometimes I feel like I am slowly wasting my youth being a hermit but then I remind myself that although I suck at school (and have to work really hard towards getting decent grades)hey, I am doing something with my life. And it’s not like I have ever failed a course or anything… I wish I found something that came to me naturally without so much fucking effort.  I am on a constant endurance race. If at least one area in my life went okay I would be the happiest girl in the world. I must accept  after 20 years that it simply doesn’t. No-I don’t attract decent, smart guys. No-I don’t get straight A’s in all of my courses. No-most people don’t like me and I don’t have many friends. Expectations and not being able to get rid of them is what fucks everything up.

Here are the videos:

Video about my experiences with social anxiety:

“I’m losing you.”

That’s what he said. I don’t want him to think that. I don’t want him to feel that way at all. It hurt my heart so badly when I heard him say it. But then again, maybe it hurt so much because it’s true.

I am lost.

I really love this song…

…from Nightwish

It’s not the tree that forsakes the flower
But the flower that forsakes the tree
Someday I’ll learn to love these scars
Still fresh from the red-hot blade of your words

…How blind can you be, don’t you see…
…that the gambler lost all he does not have…

struggling here with words on how to write this–which for me is a weird feeling because normally i don’t struggle with words–first, pray for me—wont get into specifics here—but there is something i ordered that i wished i didnt—as of yet it didn’t go through (credit card, order etc)–but i am asking for prayers that it DOES NOT go through—and if it does, gets lost in the mail, and or i have the strength to get rid of it when/if it comes—been told that prayers can work–so i am laying that out there.

my main thing about this post, goes along that line of my prayer request—a realization in a sense, as well as a question, questioning of myself, my worth, my “light”, my “evilness” as i would say–and the constant WWJD. Been thinking about something i threw away earlier this week—something that i believed made who i was, my identity, my protection, my everything. i was thinking about that—and thinking about the things i used to have around my house—the inspirational quotes, the “christian” music, the “crosses”, etc—everything i was told made me more of a “christian”–or made me a “christian” if that makes sense—so i thought, the more i had like that, the more HE would love me, HE would take care of me, ect—again trying so hard to plz HIM, to earn HIS love, HIS protection, etc. i also enjoyed the stuff tremendously–gave me a sense of “peace”

then i switched to so much negative in my house—thought i was evil, believe i am evil— why would HE even like me, let alone what i have heard “love” me—might as well turn to the negatives, the opposites, etc—and believed again that is what made me who i was—listening to non-christian music made me bad, reading non-christian books made me bad, not having spiritual stuff in my house made me bad, etc etc etc—therefore, i must be evil, therefore i must be bad and the list goes on.

I want to believe that in reality, listening to whatever didn’t make me who i was, reading whatever didn’t make me who i was, wearing whatever didn’t make me who i was, going to church, eating, and so much more did not make me who i was—i was who i was because of the “light” in me-the “holy spirit” that was in me–dare i believe others who say this to me—how do i know that is the truth—how do i know to believe you, over the person in the organization. dare i really take that chance??? oh how i want to…sigh…………

why was i taught so wrong, why did i believe so long—how do i get that back—how do i find it again, is it possible to find it again??

read a similar statement to this twice this week—on someones elses blog and in a old message–but when you really do learn the wrong way, and are taught as i would put it, by “wolves in sheeps clothing”–you really do mess up your spiritual life—oh the questions—oh the identity crisis.

Take on the role of Jack the Sharpshooter, a handsome pirate with a penchant for gold. When Jack stumbles upon an ancient casket, his curiosity is piqued and he sets out on an adventure full of magic, love, gold, weapons and a Cursed Ghost. Unravel the secrets of the ancient casket by finding Hidden Objects and get ready for the most astonishing ending!

161 levels to play!

Gorgeous graphics.

Intriguing pirate story

System Requirements:

OS: Windows 2000/XP/Vista

CPU: 600 Mhz

RAM: 128 MB

DirectX: 8.1

Hard Drive: 59 MB

It Takes Just A second To Say Thanks,

It Takes Longer To The Work On This.

Pirateville

Da parecchio non mi faccio risentire ma non potevo scegliere momento migliore per tornare.. a parlare di LOST. Infatti la data UFFICIALE della season premiere è stata fissata per il 2 Febbraio 2010!!! Il countdown è iniziato..

-72

من گاهی به شدت بدجور روی کتابی متوقف می‌شم. آخرین بار که یه کتاب رو خیلی طول دادم، آخرین کتابی بود که خوندم و در واقع چند روز پیش تمومش کردم:

روی ماه خداوند را ببوس

مصطفی مستور

نشر مرکز/2200 تومان

یکی از عللی که دوست داشتم این کتاب رو بخونم، نویسنده‌اش بود که قبل از این کتاب، داستان زیباش با نام «استخوان خوک و دست‌های جذامی» رو خونده بودم. مصطفی مستور می‌تونه نویسنده‌ی خوب و قوی‌ای باشه.

علت دیگه، محتوای جذاب خود کتاب بود. وقتی که کتاب رو باز می‌کنید و فصل اول رو می‌خونید، در ذهن شخصیت اصلی داستان، این جمله نقش داره: «آیا خداوندی هست؟»

این برای من یا تویی که هنوز خدامون رو پیدا نکردیم و داریم دنبالش می‌گردیم و می‌خوایم ببینیمش و حسش کنیم(+) جذاب‌ترین موضوع ممکنه! چون گمان می‌کنیم این کتاب می‌تونه برای افکار و عقاید در هم ریخته‌ی من و تو، یه Challenge درست و حسابی باشه!

داستان کتاب جلو می‌ره. اما اگر یک کتاب خوان حرفه‌ای باشی و چندتا رمان درست و حسابی هم خونده باشی(نوشابه باز کردم واسه‌ی خودم ها!) نمی‌تونی بگی که وقایع داستان، شخصیت پردازی‌ها و پرداختن بهشون در مسیری درست و به شیوه‌ای درست انجام شده. هنگام خوندن داستان، به هیچ وجه با داستان، شخصیت‌ها و اعمال‌شون همراه نیستی.

بذارید جور دیگه‌ای توضیح بدم. رسالت یک کتاب، اینه که پیامش رو برسونه. حالا این پیام اگر قرار باشه توسط یک کتاب که حالت داستانی و رمان به خودش گرفته به مخاطب منتقل بشه، راهش چیه؟ بهترین روش، اینه که به عنوان نویسنده‌ی رمان، با نشون دادن زوایای بیش‌تری از شخصیت‌ها، اعمال و زندگی‌شون، تصمیمات‌شون و سرنوشت و سرانجام‌شون، ایدئولوژی مدنظرت رو که در یک شخصیت قرار دادی، به مخاطب منتقل کنی. مخاطب روند و سیر کاراکترها رو می‌خونه و می‌بینه و حس می‌کنه، و تو با قلمت که به یک یا دسته‌ای کاراکتر برتری می‌بخشه، ایدئولوژی و طرز تفکرت رو به خواننده منتقل می‌کنی.

به نظرم یکی از بزرگ‌ترین نقاط ضعف این کتاب، این بود که قصد نداشت از این روش استفاده کنه. شما به هیچ وجه یک روند منطقی رو در داستان شاهد نیستید. البته من هم نفهمیدم که آقای مستور چه‌طور می‌خواستن پیام‌شون رو به خواننده منتقل کنند.

در داستان هم‌واره سعی شده بود که با بزرگ کردن و ارزش دادن بی جهت به یک شخصیت، اون شخصیت به عنوان الگو معرفی بشه و در نتیجه، هر جای داستان با قرار دادن نقل قول‌هایی از اون کاراکتر، پیام مورد نظر رو به خواننده منتقل کنند. خب، طبیعیه که خواننده‌ی عاقل نمی‌تونه با چنین پیام خامی ارتباط برقرار کنه و اونو بپذیره. پس اشکال اول کتاب از نظر من، اینه که در رسالتش ناموفق بوده.

من تا پایان کتاب که پیش رفتم، بیش‌تر به نظرم اومد که ساختار داستان چیزی شبیه به از زیر جواب در رفتنه. عین اینکه سوالی مطرح بشه و جوابی بدی و همه چیز رو ماست مالی کنی.

یکی از کاراکترهای داستان در مورد اعتقاد پیدا کردن به خدا، می‌گه: «متأسفم. من واقعاً از این که ملحدها نمی‌تونند خداوند رو تجربه کنند متأسفم. در تجربه‌ی خداوند، بر خلاف تجربه‌ی طبیعت که قانون‌هاش بعد از آزمایش به دست می‌آد، اول باید به قانون ایمان بیاری و بعد اون روز آزمایش کنی. حتی باید بگم هرچه ایمانت به اون قانون نیرومندتر باشه احتمال موفقیت آزمون‌ها بیش‌تره. یعنی هر اندازه که به خداوند باور داشته باشی خداوند همون اندازه برای تو وجود داره. هرچه بیش‌تر به اون ایمان بیاری، وجود و حضور او برای تو بیش‌تر می‌شه.»

آیا یک فرد منطقی، یک man of science* که تنها استدلال علمی رو قبول داره، با خوندن این سطور، با نویسنده و ایدئولوژی مورد نظرش یکی می‌شه. مطمئناً نه!

داستان ضعیف بود، ضعیف! از آقای مستور چنین انتظاری نداشتم!!

در کل اصلاً کتاب جالبی نبود. راستش رو بگم: بعد از خوندن کتاب باورم نمی‌شد که نویسنده‌ی این کتاب با نویسنده‌ی «استخوان خوک و دست‌های جذامی» یکی باشه!

.

* اشاره به اپیزود اول از سیزن دوم سریال LOST:

Man of Science, Man of Faith

در این اپیزود، رویارویی جک شپرد که مرد دانش و استدلال و منطق و جان لاک که مرد ایمان و باور بود، تقابلی زیبا را رقم زد.

There’s something to be said for a show that was never particularly good (tell my best friend I said this if you want to see me get punched in the mouth [!]) going to such great distances to grow and mature and suck tons less, causing in me the desire to throw CW’s Smallville props for being the crappy little program that could as the treaser for the upcoming Absolute Justice event is online.  Congrats, guys, on putting together the most ambitious story arc on the small screen in years, barring some science-fiction shows that are of higher ambition to start with as it concerns their general premise and concepts, such as the phenomenal LOST and recently with AMC’s The Prisoner, which I found thoroughly enjoyable (for more reasons than the new love of my life, Hayley Atwell).  How well it pans out for the show is another story as the writers seem to love throwing non-Superman  Clark Kent into full on Supes situations, and utilizing characters far earlier than necessary.  Not to mention the show is obviously shot in a crappy warehouse most of the time and is visually telling of this sad reality.  The fact that every opinion I hold on the show being 100% true is one thing but I know I’m not being completely fair, or fully accurate.  Obviously the show tapped into something positive with fans as only real comic geeks would continue to watch, and yet the show is on it’s 9th season, a huge accomplishment for any series, of any genre or format.  Having heard for years now that every subsequent season would be the last, I now see precisely that for as unsurprised as I will be if the show has a 10th, the same could be said for it’s 20th season or for the 15th anniversary of spin-off show Martian Manhunter: Darker Than Space.  As much as I used to desire the show to go away so that another comic book show could come on and actually be good, I now must root for Tom Welling and Erica Durance’s awful chemistry and the sometimes, but rarely, cool battles.  You win, Smallville.

PS: Thank you for getting Michael Shanks to play Hawkman in the upcoming Absolute Justice.  My man crush for him just doubled, and that’s saying something after his turn as Victor on S2 of Burn Notice.

Não deu pra segurar as lágrimas e não vir comentar sobre um dos melhores episódios de Lost. Me imprecionei/emocionei com o quanto que Lost é uma série bem feita e supera filmes blockbusters como Harry Potter, que tem todo tempo e dinheiro do mundo pra ser feito e não sai nada, em termos narrativos e estéticos.

No episódio, já no final da terceira temporada, Charlie recebe a noticia de Desmond (outra vez) de que irá morrer. Só que desta vez terá que morrer mesmo, para que, pela visão de Desmond, Claire e os outros sejam resgatados. Desmond explica para Charlie como ele deve morrer e fala que é quando ele apaga uma luz amarela embaixo d’água e se afoga depois disso. Chalie aceita então, por mais que não queira, seu destino mas com ênfase em saber se a Claire realmente é salva na ‘visão” de Desmond.

Daí pra frente temos os momentos mais emocionantes e bem narrados da terceira temporada de Lost, e até da segunda.

Pra começar, Charlie começa a fazer uma lista, que não sabemos pra quê serve é claro, e relembra alguns momentos interesantes de sua vida que não conhecíamos. Daí seguem cinco momentos:

#5 – A primeira vez que me ouvi no rádio.

Charlie está puto com um pneu furado da vã de sua banda e que não consegue consertar. Discute com Liam (seu irmão) e diz que vai sair da banda. Bom, tem motivos, além da banda não fazer sucesso e eles estrem indo cantar “onde o diabo nem sabe que existe” , o pneu fura e chove pra desgrama do aldo de fora da vã, e até quem está dentro se molha. Mas no meio da discussão coms eu irmão onde insiste em dizer que não aguenta mais essa vida, seu hit sucesso toca no rádio e Charlie esquece de tudo o que estava passando e junto com Liam e os outros da banda enlouquecem de alegria e percebem que é por isso que deicidram tocar em uma banda.

#4 – “Papai me ensinando a nadar em Butlins.

Ainda criança, Charlie está em um clube público do lado de fora da pscina e seu pai insiste para que ele entre. Charlie pouco confiante e sem saber nadar não acredita que seu pai o segurará e insiste em não pular para dentro da água. Depois de algum tempo de insistência, Charlie decide escolher por confiar em seu pai e se joga pra dentro do mundarel azul da pscina e enquanto afunda os braços de seu pai o agarram e o levam para a superfície fazendo Chrlie se sentir tão feliz quanto uma mãe que acaba de dar a Luz, ou um pai que vê o primeiro gol de seu filho.

#3 – O Natal que Liam me deu o anel

Depois de uma boa farra, e com das lindas moças dormindo ao seu lado na cama, Charlie é acordado por Liam que, ainda com aspécto de chapado, o chama para uma conversa natalina. Meio estranho, Liam começa a falar coisas sem sentido que colminam em um “te dar esse anel”. Charlie fica lisongiado, é claro, mas não quer aceitar o anel, apesar de tudo ele foi um presente de sua Mãe a Liam e que sempre foi passado de pai pra filho em sua familia e que Liam deveria passar para seu filho. Mas no estado que está acha melhor que Charlie fique com ele, pois deduz que ele será um homem melhor e mais indireitado que ele próprio e por isso Charlie aceita, mesmo dizendo que devolverá para o irmão, por se sentir mal em receber um presente que não era predestinado ele mesmo. Mas esse momento é um dos mais importantes para Charlie, pois é o anel da Drive Shaft, sua banda, que recebera esse nome justamente por causa do pequeno objeto que tem as iniciais de seu tio.

#2 – O dia que uma mulher me chamou de herói

Depois de tocar em um ponto onde supostamente Desmonde esbarraia com ele, Charlie passa por um beco no meio de uma tempestade e ouve uma mulher (Nadia) pedindo por ajuda e gritando socorro desesparada e vê que a moça está sendo assaltada. Decide ajudá-la e dá um chega pra lá no batedor de carteiras. A moça fica muito contente e orgulhosa por ele ser o único que teve coragem o bastante para ajudá-la, mesmo que três pessoas passaram por ali e não fizeram nada. Ela o chama de heróis e fala que ninguém pode dizer o contrário. Charlie vai as alturas e se orgulha de si mesmo por ter feito um gesto sem esperar nada em troca e acabou tedo mais do que esperava: reconhecimento.

#1 – A noite em que te conheci.

O momento fudêncio. Aquele que ferra tudo. Aquele que me fez chorar. Aquele que se tornou meu momento preferido de toda série. O momento mais importante da vida de Charlie. É tão simples. Não tem ação desenfreada. Não tem tristeza de mais. Não tem humor de mais. É penas um momento normal e aconchegante onde Charlie fala com Caire pela primeira vez. Onde ele descobre que a ama pela primeira vez. Onde ele vê nla uma real chance de amar alguém e se endireitar. Eles conversam pouco. Ele pucha assunto e faz ela rir mesmo estando grávida em uma ilha onde acabara de cair de um avião. Basta seu sorriso e a honestidade de Charlie e o nome do momento para me deixar escorrer algumas lágrimas no minimo. É simples. Mas logo depois é revelado ali, que essa lista que Charlie está Fazendo é a lista dos cinco melhores momentos de toda sua vida. São os únicos momentos em que ele sentiu felicidade de verdade. São os únicos momentos em que ele sentiu amor. São os único momentos que valham a pena ser lembrados antes de sua morte prescedida. São os seus momentos. São as mais mais, as melhores faixas de sua vida. Seus greatest hits.