Just Now.

I am just now accessing this memory for the first time in... maybe 30 years, so please bear with me. It hit me just now as I looked at the record-selling (as of today) painting Portrait of George Dyer Talking on Facebook.

I'm about three years old, and my family is moving from a tiny house in a tiny town to a very large house in a small town. I am sitting on the thick mustard yellow carpet of my parent's bedroom, with only their bed frame and a dozen or so stacks of National Geographic magazines. The room is very cold, even though it is summer. This room is always cold, for some reason. The walls are dark brown faux wood paneling- the cheap stuff. I cannot remember why, but no one else is home, and it's been this way for hours. Somehow I know it will be like this for hours more, and there is only the light bulb and the National Geographics to keep me company.

I do not own toys yet anyway. My family was poor and my dad is criminally selfish, so when I feel like playing with toys, my hands become whatever action figures I want. Usually He-Man or Thundercats or G.I. Joe or major sports, it's something I'll perfect throughout my childhood. To this day my hands find themselves making the motions of a baseball pitcher or a karate fight. I would arrange the magazines to form buildings, forts, and villages. I've been in here a long time.

I learned how to read last summer, when I turned two. I bring this up now because this is when I decide to try and read these National Geographics. I learned how to read at Catholic bible school, toting my large, white leather bible and tagging along behind my older sisters. I think I was mainly going so my mom would have some alone time at the house. It only just now occurs to me that I can apply that same skill to these neat little books, and not just the big scary bible. God damn that book scared me. What a pile of shit. There are diamonds in the shit, but shit nonetheless.

I had also already figured out basic numbering, probably with the help of my oldest sister, so I wanted to start in order. I started with the oldest (by my estimation) issue and began reading. I read about African tribes, and Egyptian culture. I read about Buddha and dinosaurs, saw more breasts than I knew how to process, and looked at a lot of pictures. Obviously, I didn't read many of them that night. I read enough that I never really believed the bible again, though. Odd, that.

I think this is the first time I've ever thought about any of this, other than the cold room, the carpet, and the magazines.

Andre Reed vs. Jerry Rice.

Here is a very simple argument, in case you were looking for one, why Andre Reed was better than Jerry Rice.

You read that right; I believe today, as well as I did throughout each of their entire careers (of which I personally witnessed), that Andre Reed was the superior wide receiver.

Instead of engaging in rigmarolic (yes, I made that word up and I like it and you'll probably see it again) banter based on their individual statistics, my argument is one of reason. First, you probably think it's ridiculous to have this discussion and not base it on statistics, but I think statistics are just part of the picture when you're determining a player's greatness. My rebuttal to that is that there are so many factors that make the career statistics of both receivers generally incomparable (except in the broadest sense), namely:

Conditions: (remember, I told you before I'm not looking any of this shit up) There is no argument to the fact that the majority of games that Jerry Rice played in his career were of extraordinarily better weather conditions than those in which Andre Reed played.

NO. ARGUMENT.

That said, there is also no argument to the fact that pristine weather conditions (70 degrees and up, little wind or precipitation) greatly increase passing in football. Jerry Rice played in San Francisco. Andre Reed played in Buffalo.

Statistical advantage: Rice

Role in Offense: This one is more easily debatable, because I have seen much more of the great Buffalo offense of Andre Reed's career than the offense of Joe Montana and Jerry Rice (other than highlights and Super Bowls, lol), but my position is that Jerry Rice was a significantly bigger part of the San Francisco offense than Andre Reed was in Buffalo. Andre Reed was one of several dangerous passing targets, including (variously) James Lofton, Don Beebe, Chris Burkett, Keith McKeller... remember, I'm not looking anything up, but I bet if I did, I would find Jerry Rice was targeted a whole hell of a lot more than Andre Reed. Just a hunch.

Statistical advantage: Rice

But the basic argument I'd like to make that proves that Andre Reed was the superior wide receiver is much simpler. Just ask yourself, if you theoretically swapped players, and gave it honest thought in your mind about how each's career would go, I think you would agree that Andre Reed's numbers would be much better than they are (which are already pretty goddamned amazing, considering above)- whereas Jerry Rice's numbers would be significantly worse than they are.

Just think. Andre Reed was generally considered to be one of the toughest, most dangerous over-the-middle receivers ever... and he also had every bit of the speed, route-running, and catching ability of Rice. In fact, I think Reed was most likely even faster than Rice. Careers swapped, I think Reed's numbers would have been better than Rice's are, and Rice's numbers would be lower than Reed's.

You know I'm right.

No Grillz on the Kensington.

Last week I was driving home after class in quite blizzardy weather, and there's this on-ramp to a connector I need (198Sto33E I think) where as soon as you get on 198, you're in the exit lane that is two lanes becoming one. People that were already on 198 are forming a line to exit to 33, and if you're just getting on 198 to get to 33, you just kinda get in line.

Here is the battle.

As the line forms up, you have your truly selfish shits who think they're going to pass 30 cars and hop right up front. I enjoy keeping an eye on my rearview, so that when I see someone attempting that maneuver, I take up both lanes as a not-so-subtle gesture that fuck them. I'm not alone in this, often you'll see that the line kinda snakes back and forth between the two lanes because most people find that to be an assholish act.

As I look in my rearview on this blizzardy day, I see a gray late model Crown Victoria/Grand Marquis. Usually that make and color around here is an airport taxi, as the 33 goes to the airport. Regardless, he's not doing what he thinks he's gonna do, which is pass the whole fucking line and get in front. Sorry, I'm trying to be less of a dick but I'm also trying to help other people be less of a dick (sometimes involuntarily) lol. So nope.

The car, which I now see is missing its front grille and is in a general state of beatthefuckupedness, is now swerving from my back right side, where he is trying to cut ahead in line (in a lane that is ending), to my driver side, and is going to try and pass me there and only cut me off.

What flashed my rage, however, was when he swerved in at me like he was going to hit me. I swerved back at him (I've been in a ton of accidents, not scared of them, AND insured!), blocked him, and hollered and pointed and flipped him off lol. As pissed as I was at this mid-40's or so, bald, toothless man, he was maybe a hundred times angrier. Immediately behind me, he was swerving back and forth and genuinely just losing his shit.

His rage, in fact, was so pronounced that it actually snapped me out of mine, and I burst out laughing. He was signaling for me to exit (presumably to fight- sorry cabbie, I got a future I'm working on), swerving back and forth, screaming and all. As I merged onto 33, I got into the left lane and carried on normally.

He then came up on my right, honking and swerving at me, yelling for me to pull over. I was still laughing pretty good, and I'll probably never forget his toothless face lol. I know I wasn't making it any better by laughing and kissing my middle finger as I flipped him off, but hey we all learned a lesson that day, asshole. I keep a pipe in my back seat for a reason.

It's a peace pipe!

No, it's a steel pipe.

Do Bad Things Happen to You?

I don't really think of anything as inherently better than anything else. I don't believe in objective value, only subjective, meaning something can only be good or bad depending on the perspective of who, ya know, perceives it...

The "greater good" argument is valid, particularly with regards to society, but that's still just your perspective. You're making your value decision by taking into account the value decisions made by others. That's cool, man. To each their own.

However, there can always be more information that you don't know that shifts that perspective. For instance, you see a cop shoot a man in the street that appears to have been putting his weapon down. Millions see it, millions hate the cop. Does that mean it's right to punish the cop? Public opinion is the majority, and the "greater good" says GET HIM.

However, a bit more information is added to your perspective, and it becomes clear that another cop, out of view, was telling the cop that shot the guy that he was using his other hand to pull out another gun. Perspective shifts again. Suddenly, millions are happy the victim was shot. "He deserved it," they say, confident in the value they've judged based on their perspective.

But wait. A neighbor had called the police, having heard a strange sound. The neighbor looks out, and sees a man carrying a gun. He calls the police. The man carrying the guns, it turns out, was lawfully carrying and possessing both weapons. He had come out of his house, just a few doors down, having heard the same sound and was investigating his own property. The police came, he complied by setting down his rifle, but was also carrying a concealed pistol, and was reaching for the other weapon in order to lay it on the ground. That's why he was reaching slowly, so as not to alarm the cops. Perhaps he should have been loudly announcing what he was doing, as well. Perhaps he was armed because he was planning on killing his neighbor, too.

But you still never know, so instead of getting upset each time new information comes out, you can decide that things just happen, and that they are good and bad depending on the perspective of whom they happen to.

Did it happen to you?

An Idiot Abroad.

I just love this show I'm watching on Netflix right now, An Idiot Abroad. It's a show where Ricky Gervais basically sends his buddy, the billed-as-ignorant yet deceptively brilliant Karl Pilkington, to various wonders of the world. On its surface, the purpose of the trips are to expand Karl's "typical little Englander" perspective by experiencing other cultures, sites, etc. but Gervais also adds the stated purpose of making Karl miserable around the world. He says in the intro that it's the most elaborate and expensive practical joke he's every played, at times getting hilariously annoyed when Karl actually enjoys something (though its usually off-topic).

See, I have this sneaking suspicion that Karl is actually quite an enlightened sort, putting on for the show as a vehicle for his own stardom (with Gervais providing the forum). Karl plays ignorant, but some of the observations he makes are downright breathtaking. I particularly enjoyed the Jordan episode, not just because of my own fond memories (Operation Iraqi Freedom, 2003) but because it seemed the first episode where Karl's brilliance started to shine.

I won't give any more away, but I could literally go on and on. The show is fucking hilarious. I frequently find myself laughing so hard I have to press pause, and watching this (allegedly) ignorant bloke discover the world is worth every second.

Today's Instincts, Part 1.

For the past couple years, I've really found myself spiraling into a self-imposed loneliness that was primarily comprised of poor self-esteem, and each new way I find to "connect" with people only enhances the divide.

That statement is probably true for every single person that will read it, and I wrote it just now in a purely selfish manner. You see, I think we (as humanity) have allowed some of our instincts, or natures, to gain a bit too much momentum in our daily lives. In no specific order (I honestly couldn't decide which was the root cause, or worst, or primary, or whatever):

We're Impatient- They say that patience is a virtue, and I agree with that... but impatience is just our nature. I won't bore you with the cliches like "everyone wants everything now" or any of that bullshit. Our instinct to be impatient, I believe, is rooted in our intelligence. It's a tool, or a weapon. It's the driving force behind quite a bit of innovation. I'm not arguing that microwaves are bad, though. I think this impatience has also reared it's ugly head in how we find and process information.

Think of the Google search. Just 15 years ago or so (I rarely will be looking anything up as I write stuff, ain't nobody got time for that shit anymore. Just kinda writing on fumes at this point) it was sheer novelty to tell someone to "google" something. Most times you'd say it to someone who most likely wasn't gonna know what you were talking about, mainly to highlight that you knew something current that they didn't. It's ok, we all did it. "It's so simple," we thought. "Just ask anything and it's there."

All fine and well, but it's wreaked havoc on the current generation coming into its own. Millennials, if you will. You see, many years ago (again, probably 15 or so), information wasn't instantly available. I know that's not news to you, but my point is that you generally would ponder something to some extent before you actually had the opportunity to research the issue. In your reasoned thought, you might discover that you could actually figure quite a bit about things without even having to ask for help. Kind of the miracle of being human, if you will. Anyway, during those ruminations you would probably be looking at the issue (whatever it may have been) from many angles, almost as if you were holding it up to observe it (philosophy alert!!! just kidding won't go there yet).

Not only were you, in essence, teaching yourself about something, you were also cultivating an overall sense of inquisitiveness that taught your brain that there was reward in giving thought to something beforehand.

Now, just think about how frustrating it is to you when someone mentions something you haven't heard of yet. Suddenly, though you can look up things all day every day, here is something you don't know. All you gotta do is Google it. Oh, that's what it is.

But once you've Googled it, depending on the habits you've built within your mind, the journey may stop there. Curiosity sated (after all, all you did was hear about it, you didn't even have to give it thought yet), you can move on to the next intellectual pursuit. It is doubtful that a much greater understanding was truly achieved, other than the topical "______ is a thing that is ______."

Well that was easy! Not only did you not have to think about it beforehand, you didn't have to think about it at all! Because now that you've "googled" it, you've given your brain the reward of the knowledge it wanted. You heard of something instantly, looked it up instantly, and instantly figured you know what's up, and you'll never not have heard of it again.

I feel ya.

Part 2 coming soon, "we have no confidence."

Relax Though.

This blog isn't going to be super-deep like that all the time, though. I'm a big fan of the Buffalo Bills, Buffalo Sabres, and New York Yankees, so I might post about that. I try to post funny stuff too, or sometimes I'll be bitching about school (I attend Canisius College), bitching about the traffic on the way to school, (the Kensington is a war zone), or trying to come up with other relevant or interesting things to talk about. Believe it or not, I used to have a sense of humor! In the coming weeks I'll also be re-posting entries from my old blog on Blogdrive that I like or seemed well-appreciated. My old blog, that I maintained for years (hopefully Blogdrive gets operating better again soon) had an average readership of around 1000 or so per week at peak times, with hundreds of regular readers. I used to get hate mail, love mail, everything. Fun times! For those of you that have been reading for a long time, I just think that's awesome and I thank you. I often think about how far up my own ass I've been in the past, and the past few years have taught me a lot. The reason I bring that up is because I plan on writing this as if someone is reading it. lolz