Evil

What makes a person evil? Is it just horrible luck, is it a personality flaw, a genetic disorder, that makes a person turn to hate? What would make a person target all their anger on another culture? I like to think that given the right circumstances, everyone would choose peace. But would they really? I mean, some people go through hell, and they are stronger for it. Others seem to have no hardship at all, and only an accident of birth gives them fuel for their hatred. Would bin Laden, or Hitler, or any other evil person in history, would they have been different if circumstances had been different? Or were their circumstances only an excuse, so that they would have been evil no matter what their life was like? I find it hard to believe that people can hate other humans so easily, without questioning whether their "crime" might be simply their existence. As glad as I am to be human, I often envy other, less intelligent species, that don't understand the concepts of hate, or prejudice, or evil. Their lives must be so much simpler.

Don't mind me, I'm only ranting

Okay, this is bugging me. All this "You don't care about Japan, you're so selfish, typical American. How dare you think of your friend who might have been killed? Don't you know what that country is going through?"

Seriously. Who doesn't think "Oh my god, I hope my friend is okay" when something like this happens? I don't know anyone in Japan, but I did have a cousin living in Manhattan ten years ago. And when the twin towers were attacked, the first thing I thought was, I hope she's all right. Why? Because I know her. Not because I didn't care about the thousands who died, but I didn't know them. I feel sympathy for the people who lost friends and family. But I didn't know any of them. Same with Japan. You want to know if the people you know are safe. Not because you don't care about anyone else. Maybe because it's easier to feel sympathy for the people who did lose friends and family if you know yours are safe. Maybe because humans are by nature selfish, though in this case I hardly think selfish is an accurate term. We think of how something affects us first- I prefer to think of it as a survival mechanism rather than selfishness.

/rant

Sorry if this offends anyone, but I really hate it when someone accuses someone else of being selfish for caring about their friends more than a bunch of strangers.

525,600 minutes

Before I delve into my newest addition to my Tokio Hotel collection, I want to take a few minutes and try to describe this journey. It won't be enough. I can never find the words I need. Though I've been told I'm a skilled writer (which I don't believe), I always feel like the perfect order is just beyond my grasp. Hence why I don't believe those who say I'm good at this.

But that's not what I'm writing about. I want to talk about Tokio Hotel. About this last year and three months. Or is it four months now? I can hardly believe how time has flown; I can hardly believe the difference in me. To go from a depressed, jaded high school drop-out who'd long since given up on dreams, to where I am now. And maybe others don't see the difference; I don't know. People don't tell me stuff. But I gave up on giving up, and I owe it to Tokio Hotel.

That night, just over a year ago, when I saw that picture on that stupid website, I didn't have any idea that my life was about to be turned on end. I couldn't get that picture out of my head. And when I searched on Google, I found a video which also wouldn't let me be. That boy was so enthralling, so enchanting. He was like a Tale'edras or an Elf out of one of my favorite fantasy books. Now I do a little drawing; I don't pretend to be anywhere near good. But if I could have created the perfect image of what I find most beautiful in a human, it probably would have looked something like Bill Kaulitz.

Now let me get this straight before we go any further. I do NOT find him attractive. I find him beautiful. There's a huge difference. He is beautiful, inspiring, amazing, the closest thing to perfect any human could hope to attain. But he is not attractive to me in the least. I don't worship him, I don't think he's sexy, I just find him an amazing and inspiring role model.

When I watched "Don't Jump," I found myself falling for this odd German band. I wasn't exactly well versed on pop culture. Growing up, I was taught that Britney Spears was the epitome of evil, and that nothing good could come out of Hollywood. I admit, I try to keep up with modern, current entertainment now because I hate being so clueless about the culture I grew up in. However, I never in a million years would have thought to look outside North America to find what I was looking for. It wasn't that I was opposed to European musicians, I honestly just hadn't thought of it. So I was surprised when I fell so hard. I think part of it- make that most of it- was due to my utter boredem. Sitting up all night, waiting for something to happen- the world is never as boring as it is at 02:00 when you're alone. And so I listened to Tokio Hotel music videos, watched old THTV episodes, and eventually found THA.

I say eventually; it was probably less than a week.

The changes have been significant.

In 2006, I left the Bible college in Chicago.

Between 2006 and 2009, I did nothing.

In 2009, I got a job.

In 2009, I saw "Don't Jump."

In 2010, I got my high school diploma, enrolled in college, was accepted into the Honors Program, started learning German, decided to go after the major I wanted instead of the one I thought I should do, signed up for three music classes, including piano, and finished my first semester of college with a 3.7 GPA.

All that to say:

This has been the best 525,600 minutes of my life.

It...doesn't get better? Wut?

http://popwatch.ew.com/2010/12/27/richard-chamberlain-gay-actors-coming-out/


Apparently the It Gets Better campaign is a lie, at least according to Richard Chamberlain. Really? Really? WTF is he thinking?
I'm going to name as many LGBT celebrities as I can think of, beginning NOW.

Jane Lynch, Chris Colfer, Ryan Murphy, Neil Patrick Harris, Ellen DeGeneres, John Barrowman, Adam Lambert, Portia de Rossi, Clive Barker, Perez Hilton, Jay Manuel, Graham Norton, Melissa Etheridge, Elton John, Freddie Mercury.

That's 15. Judging by the fact that I've heard of them, I don't think you could say that their careers were negatively impacted because they're out of the closet. So why would Chamberlain say something like that? Granted, he's specifically referring to male lead actors, but my point is still valid. I realize, as much as anyone who's not gay can, that coming out is difficult. I think, though, that celebrities have an easier time of it, for the simple reason that people are more accepting of odd behavior from celebrities, regardless of their sexuality. If there's anyone without an excuse for remaining in the closet, it's the celebrities.

This Week in the Life of Jaspar

Can I just scream now? I am so messed up, I swear to god. I need to figure this out.

Way I see it, I've got two options, both of which are a major gamble. So the question is, should I settle for the lesser degree, which would reduce my chance of post-college employment? Or should I go for a transfer and risk spending the next 20+ years paying off my education? Decisions, decisions. It might help if I had graduated high school. I was a good enough student that I might have had better luck getting scholarships and work. But no, I had to go and be stupid.
Sure, it wasn't entirely my fault. I was only a teenager, and I thought ministers were trustworthy. But I don't hate him for lying to me. Nah, lying was the least of his crimes against my family. I hate him mostly for destroying my faith.

I mean, I'm glad I got out of that cult. It wasn't good for me, I know that. I just don't know if I can ever get over wasting 20 years of my life, doing all I did in the name of a god that doesn't even exist. And I did some pretty horrible stuff in the name of religion. Brainwashing children into following blindly a religion that promotes intolerance, hate, and bigotry is nothing short of cruel. Especially when that child grows up and realizes what an intolerant hateful bigot she's been.

Speaking of (in)tolerance, I'm so happy that Don't Ask Don't Tell was finally repealed. It's about fuckin' time, let me tell you. I just wish people weren't so stupid about it. At dinner the other night the subject came up, thanks to my homophobic dad and brother. "They're gonna have to do something different about the shower situation. Put in a third section- men, women, gays." "They should treat them like the women, keeping them out of the combat situations. Can't have someone in the field that the other soldiers/marines/airmen/sailors can't rely on." Grow the fuck up. It's not you that'll have to deal with it. And the adjustments that the bigots will have to make are nothing compared to what the gay people went through during DADT.

Anyway. I can't argue against them, because they're both really good at making me look stupid. Not to mention my dad would never tolerate anything that implies gay people are less than evil demons out to molest and convert everyone else. But I can at least change the topic. It's so easy to get them talking about cars and computers instead, and at least I'm only left confused instead of offended. I wish they get a taste of their own medicine one day from someone less cowardly than me.

Oreo

On November 28, 2006, I lost the last person who cared about me.

She was an outdoor kitty, against my will, but we were both coping. At least until that stupid stray showed up. He bullied her, and there was nothing I could do about it. No way would my dad allow her back inside. So we tried to cope. Until November 27-28.

I never heard anything. I didn't have any idea what happened until the next day when I found her. There was a spot in back of the house where the siding had come away and the cats could get under the house. There was a steep drop there, about a foot high I think. She was there. She couldn't move; she just lay there and screamed.

There have been several days in my life that stand out as really horrible. My first day at a public school. The day I realized I was no longer welcome at my church. The day my bee status was temporarily revoked. None of those, as difficult as they were to live, were quite as bad as hearing my child screaming in pain and being completely, utterly helpless to do anything about it.

If I could live that day again, I would do it differently. I would have pulled her out of that hole and given her a double human dose of aspirin and held her and told her how brave she was while she died quickly. At the time though, there was a little ray of hope that her injuries weren't fatal.

As hard as it was, I finally left her alone. She seemed to calm down a little when I wasn't there. In the afternoon I went for a long walk. I just couldn't hang around the house and do nothing, and since I couldn't drive, I walked. When I got back, she was gone.

It's been four years, and it still hurts just as much. Writing this has been difficult, and I almost don't want to publish it. But I'm not erasing it, not now.

I miss you, Oreo.

Drakula Revised

I have to write a story for German. In German. My skills aren't that great yet, so I'm writing it in English first. So here's the English version for anyone who wants to read it.

It was a dark and stormy night. Lightning flashed, bright as day, and thunder boomed from right next to me. I was taking my dog for a walk in the forest, and she wasn’t happy about it. A crash of thunder left her cowering against my legs, whining pitifully. Another lightning flash revealed an ominous figure in the path in front of me. I jumped back, startled, and quickly grabbed a large branch which I brandished at the figure. It didn’t move, so I struck it with my makeshift club. Still it did nothing. The next flash of lightning revealed that I had been attacking a tree stump. I dropped the branch and snickered. This had better not get out, or everyone would tease me about it for years. As I relaxed and started to move forward, a hand fell on my shoulder. Now I screamed, and pulled away. My poor dog had had enough; she jerked the leash from my hand and bolted toward home.
“Relax,” a deep, gravelly voice said. “I don’t want to hurt you. Come with me.”
I turned to face the speaker apprehensively. He was of average height, perhaps an inch or two taller than me. His oily black hair was slicked back from his too-pale face. He wore a long black trench coat belted around his thin frame. His amber eyes glared at me, and he seemed to realize that just as I noticed, for he softened his expression. It didn’t make him any less menacing. I couldn’t move; I just stood gaping at him.
He grabbed my arm, pulled me along a path I hadn’t previously noticed. We approached a huge castle, but he pulled me aside at a small gardening shack. “Did you think I lived in that old thing?” he mocked. “Come on.” Inside it was much bigger than it appeared. There was a huge, open room, with banners hung along all the walls. They weren’t the creepy tapestries I would have expected in the home of someone like my host; no, they were party streamers. And in the center of the room stood rows of tables, laden down with food and presents. People swarmed up to us, looking excited.
“Is this him?”
“He looks interesting-”
“Are you sure-?”
I could barely hear myself think over the clamoring crowd. The host held up his hand. “This is him,” he said. At that the guests all grinned and pressed forward, revealing sharp pointed fangs. I screamed and jumped back.
“You’re- VAMPIRES?!”
“Oh, don’t look like that,” the host said impatiently. “You must have guessed.”
“What do you want from me? I have a family! Friends! People who’ll notice I’m gone!” I backed away, terrified, as though I could actually outrun a host of vampires.
“We’re not going to eat you,” the host exclaimed. “Ew!” He took off his trenchcoat and hung it on a coatrack. “We’re not like that.” He gave a smile which must have been intended as encouraging, but he only succeeded in scaring me further. I stepped back, and his smile vanished. “Stop,” he said. “I’m not- What’s your name?”
“Karl,” I managed. “My name is Karl.”
“I’m Drakula,” he said. “See? Much better. Now we’re friends. Come have some cake.”
I approached the front table and saw a cake ringed with candles. That was when I remembered what day it was. The vampires cheered as I blew out the candles.
“Happy birthday,” Drakula said, clapping me on the back, as another vampire cut the cake.