Disconcerting
The majority of birthday balloons are covered with, aside from the
words "Happy Birthday", illustrations of festive things, such as
streamers, confetti, and balloons. A balloon covered in the image
of more balloons. There has to be some symbolism in that.
If our solar system were the size of the CCHS gym, the sun would be the size of a basketball. The inner planets would be roughly the size of marbles, and the outer ones would be closer to tennis balls. The asteroids, comets, dust, and all the other matter in the system would account for an additional marble at best. All of the other space in the gym is just that - empty space. A fraction of a percentage point of the space in the system is actually occupied by anything. Now imagine the other systems, (or gyms) separated by countless light-years (or miles) of emptiness. The further you pan out, the worse the something:nothing ratio gets. On a universal scale, you might as well round down to zero. Let's bring things closer to home. All matter is made up of molecules. Molecules are just a loose confederation of atoms floating around. An atom is a cloud of electrons and a nucleus. However, that electron cloud is, by and large, empty space. We are composed of empty space and living in an universe of nothing. Science is scary.
Everyone should have seen Shaun of the Dead (for a humorous) or Dawn of the Dead (2004 - for a serious) take on zombie apocalypses. They make for a great thought exercise. What do you do when you wake up, or come home from work or school, to discover that the world is ending; that a tide of murder is threatening to wash away you and everyone you know? Apparently, you say "What the fuck?", and die. Do you honestly think you would, though? Simply accept fate, or hesitate, or panic, and go down without a fight? And if you don't, why? Since when were you such a hardass? For argument's sake, we'll assume you've survived long enough to wonder what to do next. What about your family and friends? Would you rescue them? Where would you draw the line on who isn't worth the risk; who would you sacrifice to save yourself? Who would you die for? Think about it sometime.
We've all been there. Put the car in park. Cut the lights, CD, AC, and engine. Take off the seatbelt, open the door, get out, close the door. Conclude the conversation, be it serious, light-hearted, humorous, depressing, or just small talk. Stand at the doorstep. The conversation is up, the night is up, your time is up. All that's left is the goodbye. Both of you stand there, fidgeting, making eye contact, breaking it, making it again, not saying a word, for just one moment. Therein lies the most delightful awkwardness to be had.
I swear I will write a real post shortly.
If our solar system were the size of the CCHS gym, the sun would be the size of a basketball. The inner planets would be roughly the size of marbles, and the outer ones would be closer to tennis balls. The asteroids, comets, dust, and all the other matter in the system would account for an additional marble at best. All of the other space in the gym is just that - empty space. A fraction of a percentage point of the space in the system is actually occupied by anything. Now imagine the other systems, (or gyms) separated by countless light-years (or miles) of emptiness. The further you pan out, the worse the something:nothing ratio gets. On a universal scale, you might as well round down to zero. Let's bring things closer to home. All matter is made up of molecules. Molecules are just a loose confederation of atoms floating around. An atom is a cloud of electrons and a nucleus. However, that electron cloud is, by and large, empty space. We are composed of empty space and living in an universe of nothing. Science is scary.
Everyone should have seen Shaun of the Dead (for a humorous) or Dawn of the Dead (2004 - for a serious) take on zombie apocalypses. They make for a great thought exercise. What do you do when you wake up, or come home from work or school, to discover that the world is ending; that a tide of murder is threatening to wash away you and everyone you know? Apparently, you say "What the fuck?", and die. Do you honestly think you would, though? Simply accept fate, or hesitate, or panic, and go down without a fight? And if you don't, why? Since when were you such a hardass? For argument's sake, we'll assume you've survived long enough to wonder what to do next. What about your family and friends? Would you rescue them? Where would you draw the line on who isn't worth the risk; who would you sacrifice to save yourself? Who would you die for? Think about it sometime.
We've all been there. Put the car in park. Cut the lights, CD, AC, and engine. Take off the seatbelt, open the door, get out, close the door. Conclude the conversation, be it serious, light-hearted, humorous, depressing, or just small talk. Stand at the doorstep. The conversation is up, the night is up, your time is up. All that's left is the goodbye. Both of you stand there, fidgeting, making eye contact, breaking it, making it again, not saying a word, for just one moment. Therein lies the most delightful awkwardness to be had.
I swear I will write a real post shortly.