What I Know:

Nothing.

Not really, but sorta.

Consider everything you know as a percentage of all that there is to be known. In this sense I know 0% of everything. I will never know more than 0% of everything that can possibly be known. I'll never even know 1% of pi. Maybe I'm looking too far into nothing, but I still find it a bit alarming.

Many people spend their lives, or at least a good portion of their lives seeking knowledge of one sort or another. I'm not going to say it's in vain, because knowledge is powerful and important, but does anyone ever succeed in this quest? No matter what you learn, you always yearn for more. No one is or ever should be satisfied with what they know.

Now think about a supposed all-knowing god. All-knowing. What does that mean? Such a god must have infinite knowledge, literally. There is no bound on what can be known. Going back to pi - it never ends - proof enough that an omniscient being would have a literal infinite amount of knowledge. What's the 1,000,000,000th digit of pi? He (or she) would respond immediately, without the need to think about it, he would just know. Or would he answer before I even asked aloud? He knows everything after all, even what I think.

Does he know the next sentence I'm about to type, even when I don't? This brings me to another point. Would an omniscient god know everything that is known now, or everything that is known ever? What I mean is, does this god know things before they happen? If I'm going to fall down the stairs on my way out of work, does he know this in advance? If not, then by acquiring such knowledge he is adding to the knowledge that he possesses (I know, infinity + 1 is still infinity), and if he knows more now than he did before, was he really omniscient before?

If this god is all-knowing, and he created me, then why aren't I perfect, why do I make mistakes? If I set out to make something, I would certainly make it perfect if I had the ability to do so. People say "in a perfect world..." Well if this god created this world, why isn't it perfect?

I tend to go too far with things like this, and it's getting moot, so I'll stop here. No moral here, but plenty to be learned ;-)

Change

The notion of change in American politics today is a strong one, and the three major contenders for the White House in 2009 all preach a promised doctrine of change (some more than others).

Barack Obama is larger than life for many American teens and twenty-somethings; the turnout and support he has garnered from college students is unprecedented. Why does a candidate with many policies similar to his rival's find such overwhelming support from typically politically-aware college students? The answer is George W. Bush.

Bush and Cheney have reigned over the United States for a tumultuous 7+ years. When Clinton left office, I was still too young (like most of Generation Y) to have any memory or comprehension of politics. As a result, the Washington I've grown to know is a lying and corrupt oligarchy of sorts, consisting primarily of narrow-minded politicians with even narrower objectives.

Political pundits often talk about this "post-9/11 world." Aside from the obvious heightened security measures and the sudden worldly awareness present in America, the state of a post-9/11 America has had a great impact on all the citizens of these United States. "Nine-eleven" is often thrown around in Washington as a way to take advantage of Americans. "Those who would give up Essential Liberty to purchase a little Temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety" (attributed to Benjamin Franklin) is what I'm getting at here. Wiretapping, gross amounts of secret documents, the Patriot Act - and oh yeah, that trillion-dollar travesty half a world away. After all, we wouldn't want to let the terrorists win. Getting back to the point: the Washington I've seen in my lifetime is not an institution one is likely to have much faith in.

Enter Mr. Obama. Often criticized as being naive, called a dreamer, and labeled an idealist, Obama has also been said to speak and think in a manner not unlike John F. Kennedy or Dr. Martin Luther King. "Change We Can Believe In" is his slogan, and not a terribly bad one at that. This is where I find myself getting sucked in at times, and I believe many others do as well. People want change, many believe America needs change; the problem is that most people don't even know what it is they want, aside from the fact that they don't want Bush. Obama's message and strong rhetoric radiates the promise of change, and a hope and faith in our government once again - a hope and faith that many of my generation have never had. Put Obama's wholesomely clean political record and his promise of change together with the dirtiness that is D.C., and you'll find a candidate that can present precisely what Americans are looking for: a new age in American politics.

With all of that being said, there is still great gravitas and legitimacy behind the candidacy of Barack Obama. I am an avid supporter of his campaign to the top seat in Washington, and have several policy-driven reasons for this support. The optimistic "hope" for a better America certainly plays a role, but rest assured, the basis of my support for Obama consists of relevant political matters.

What's Expected

I was sitting in my College Writing class yesterday, as my racing mind ran laps around my idle body. One thought stood out: What am I doing here? It seemed like an easy question, with an easy answer. I was in that classroom because I am a student at Northeastern University. Every easy answer draws another more complex question, though. Why am I at Northeastern? Hell, why am I even at college at all?

I suppose it was expected of me to go to college after high school, but why? Neither of my parents went to college, why should I expect to? I never made the decision "yes I think I'll pursue higher education after high school," it just happened that way.

Is it because I'm what some may consider "smart?" Because I'm smart, then I must become smarter? Am I obligated because I have the potential to become smarter? Don't most people though? Besides, I know of smart people who didn't go to college, and unsmart people who did.

I tried to think of one decision or one set of decisions that maybe put me on the path to a collegiate life. I took all honors classes freshman year. No, that wasn't really my choice. When did this all happen then? I was put in the "Gifted & Talented" program back in fourth grade, but that wasn't my choice either. Did I subconsciously decide this by not deciding against it? At any time I could have decided that I didn't want to go to college (though it probably would not be received kindly). When you grow up (ie: graduate high school) and still don't know what you want to be when you grow up, then why not college? Another four (or in my case five) years to try to find a calling.

All I knew was that suddenly it was my junior year of high school, and the only question was where will I go to college, not if. Somehow I ended up on this path, and I had no idea how.

I never did come up with an answer on my own, then last night I was listening to some music, as I often do, and John Lennon was serenading me with Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy). "Life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans." The line stood out as it never had before. Was that the simple answer to my simple question, is it that I was too busy not even considering the prospect of a further education, and suddenly here I was? It seemed too simple, not much different than saying there is no answer, but it worked.

I'm a big believer in free will, but my ultimate conclusion almost contradicts the notion of free will; saying that I ended up in college without ever deciding to be here sounds awfully fateful. To dismiss this idea, and better rationalize my conclusion for myself, I'll say that despite all of this, I am happy being in college, and after all I did choose Northeastern over several other schools. I could have said I didn't want to go to college, but I had no reason not to.

Thanksgiving & New Years for a Writer

That's the first time, according to my memory, that I've called myself a writer. I'm not sure I feel as if I deserve it, but what is a writer other than one who writes? I write, I enjoy writing, I'm a writer. It feels good.

Certain holidays seem to promote certain values, actions, or ways of thinking. Thanksgiving-well, it's obvious-encourages us to all give thanks and be more appreciative of what we have in our lives. Christmas urges us to give more than we receive. The promise of a new year often makes us look back on the year we've had, and make a list of the things we want to improve for ourselves. The list goes on and on (Lent, giving up indulgences; 4th of July, patriotism), but you get the point, I'm sure.

These days marked off on our collective calendars represent good values and habits that we should exhibit throughout the year (wearing a costume and going door-to-door on a daily basis, however, is not something I'd advocate).

I'd like to first give thanks. Musicians, athletes, actors, and other professions, often make it a point to thank their fans. I have readers that I would like to thank. Even if you don't read this on a regular basis, I appreciate the time you take out of your busy day to ponder my thoughts.

Until recently, I knew of only one person who reads these posts, JoMo. In the past two days, coincidentally, two different people (Dana, Amanda) revealed that they do, on occasion, read what I have to say. I only knew about Joe because he's the only one who comments regularly (or at all, until recently). This brings me to my next point; I oftentimes write these posts hoping to spark a thought in the mind of someone who reads them. If I've caused a spark, I urge you to comment! I don't intend to sound pushy, but it means a lot to me when I hear that someone read and enjoyed what I wrote. I want this Blog to be an open conversation between myself and the reader (at least be appreciative that I'm starting the conversation). It means a lot to me to know that people are reading, and if I cause a particular reaction or thought, I'd like to know what it is. Keep in mind that you can comment anonymously; I want to know what people thought when they read what I wrote, not who thought it (though that's an added bonus, of course). Again, thanks for reading, it means a lot, I only wish I'd known.

Now time for my New Year's Month's Resolution: To continue to write more. I find myself inspired to write a lot, but for some reason discouraged or unwilling to do so. Joe told me I should go for six posts this month, one more than last month. I responded saying that I'm not going to set a quota, and I'm not, but it would be nice to continue to write a nice pace like this.

Bridging these two ideas, I'd like to point out that knowing that people read what I write only encourages me to write more. I think it would be fair to argue that without Joe, there would be very few posts on this Blog. He encouraged me to start up my writing again, and still pushes me to get writing on an almost-daily basis. It's this kind of encouragement that keeps me writing. Thanks Joe for, among countless other things, relentlessly reminding me to keep the pen in my hand.

Well, I have class in 5 hours. Thanks once more the support, and hopefully there will be more to come in the near future.

Hazy Shade of Winter

Seasonal Affective Disorder is the term used to refer to a mental condition in which sufferers show no signs of depression throughout most of the year, but experience signs of depression in the winter. I used to always think it was just an illusion, that the lack of warmth and color just got to some people. I still don't know if I believe that it's a true illness. Whatever it is, though, I've begun to think I may be affected by it. I've believed for a long time that I have some form of Social Phobia. Of course I'm no psychologist, but I think some of the symptoms fit me will (more so in my past than now, I seem to have grown out of it somewhat).

Anyway, enough with the medical mumbo-jumbo. The technical name for what affects my emotions is not of any great importance. For those of you who have known me for a long time (in other words, the sole known reader of this Blog), you surely know that I am oftentimes antisocial. The cause of this I know not. When I do go out, I tend to have a good time more often than not, and even if it's an uneventful night, it's usually better than sitting home doing nothing. Why then, do I so often choose to not go out?

Since starting college, this anti-social side of me had rarely rared its roiled head. That is, until about two weeks ago. Granted my social life here was never as thriving as many other college students and friends of mine, but that's due almost entirely to personal preference. Getting back to the focus of this post: The past two weeks I've barely left my room (aside from going to classes and meals), and this hasn't been due to a lack of anything to do. I did go to, and enjoy, both Friday night home Northeastern hockey games, but retired to my room for the night shortly after each of them. Tonight I plan on watching the Super Bowl with some people, but that's nearly obligatory and, besides, I enjoy a good football game as much as the next guy.

My first weekend back here was good, I went out, kept myself busy, and had a good time. Something at some time between the first week of school and last weekend pushed me in to an extremely anti-social spell. And no, it wasn't the Packers loss to the Giants.

I simply don't get it. Why the sudden cowering in the shadows? Why do I always choose to spend night after night in such a way that would make many miserable? Why do I choose this, and not mind it? That's what I'd like to know, among many other things, of course. On many levels, I think I understand myself, and my thoughts and actions. On many more levels though, I have no idea what compels me to act in certain ways. If you think you understand yourself, congratulations, but I apologize for you extremely narrow mind.

Some might say we're not supposed to understand our own emotions. I disagree. I don't believe there is anything that we're not supposed to know or understand (I'm not talking about government secrets, here). There are many things yet to be discovered by many men, but nothing is supposed to remain unknown. I strive to know and understand so many obscure things, and yet I don't understand the most obscure dynamic in my life: myself. There are many directions I feel I could go from here, but I'll leave that for another day, and end this right here.

Why do I do what I do? More often than not, the most truthful answer is that I don't know...