<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417</id><updated>2012-02-16T05:13:14.627-05:00</updated><category term='People'/><category term='Life'/><category term='Obsolescence'/><category term='College'/><category term='XBox 360'/><category term='Anger'/><category term='Frustration'/><category term='Meaning of Life'/><category term='Technology'/><category term='iPod'/><category term='Tools'/><category term='Philosophy'/><category term='Rant'/><category term='Grades'/><category term='Angst'/><category term='Mixed Messages'/><title type='text'>Angst and Existentialism</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-6331811997820219530</id><published>2010-10-05T02:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T03:01:28.875-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Recent Developments</title><content type='html'>Where to start....&lt;br /&gt;So I've been psyching myself out recently. &lt;br /&gt;I just found out that the girl that I dated my freshman year is dating a sophomore. &lt;br /&gt;I'm kind of surprised. I often feel like my personality works really well with shy girls' personalities for some reason, and I think I know the guy she's with. He's not like that at all. Maybe she changed? I'm not sure, as I could never find an excuse to hang out with, or even talk to her. The kicker is that in my crazy indecision and pessimism, I've decided over the past few days that nobody I know at school is right for me but her. Now I'm not one of those guys that stalks his ex and wants to get back together with her, but I really felt a connection with her, even if we didn't speak about our relationship, or ever break the eventual fourth wall. I thought we would have had a chance to get back together, had I had a chance to be around her. I'm a better man than I was almost two years ago. Not a different man, but a better one. I've finally begun to understand who I am, and what I want, but I have a more extreme sense that I want to make a special person happy. Not that I want to be in a relationship for physical or emotional release, or social imperative. I finally just want to have someone who I can show love to, but I don't feel like I'm anywhere near that point in my feelings for any girl. I've been contemplating multiple girls, but I keep telling myself they're not right for me. One, I decided is too much smarter than me. Another is too finicky, and has let me down in the past. Yet another is not very socially inclined, and according to my roommate, flirts with every guy the way I thought was just for me. &lt;br /&gt;I talked with a friend for a while, and she is telling me to just wait, and let good things come to me, but I am getting more and more nervous. I want to be able to reach out and take what I want, but I have been spending my whole life waiting until the perfect chance. I've become something of an opportunist. I wait until circumstances are right to do things, and sometimes procrastinate even then. I spent the whole summer flirting with a lesbian, who kept telling me she liked guys too. That was confusing. I had so many chances to tell her how I felt, but put it off until I finally talked myself into kissing her. That didn't work out so well. Maybe if then I had taken the initiative to talk to her and find out what she felt, I would have been slightly less confused. I didn't though. I spent the whole summer emotionally invested in someone who wanted to care about me, but couldn't.&lt;br /&gt;I almost wish I had gone to a bigger school. I feel as though at this school, I have reached a social dead-end. As if when I met my first friends here, I started branching out in a family-tree-esque sort of way, with no links to follow further. I know it isn't true, but that doesn't help my psyche. &lt;br /&gt;I need to meet some new people. I hope my new inflections on my personality aren't turning people away. I have been giving people a hard time about things (a trait straight from my father), and acting out a fake arrogance for humor's sake. I consider myself a very funny person, but not everyone else does. I almost wish I would be put in more dire situations where I could show people that when it gets right down to it, I will do anything to help anybody who really needs it. &lt;br /&gt;I know that physically, I could look better, and I want to work on that, but unless I see palpable results for something like that, I have very little drive to work on it. I can't get a straight answer out of anyone on whether I should shave my sideburns or not: I like them, but GMT says otherwise. We'll see on that. I need to lose weight, but I don't like going to the gym. Maybe swimming in the pool will work for me. I just need a reason to have the drive to spend time working on this. I can tell myself to clean my room, since I get the instant gratification of cleanliness. This might require me forcing myself, which I always tell myself I can do, but never employ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess when I put it all on paper and look at it, I don't have as much of a problem as I tell myself. I resolve to work harder to be a better person, and help myself as much as I want to. I will try to stop wanting, and start letting things happen naturally.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-6331811997820219530?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/6331811997820219530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/10/recent-developments.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/6331811997820219530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/6331811997820219530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/10/recent-developments.html' title='Recent Developments'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-4264656772858281062</id><published>2010-10-04T22:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T22:22:57.619-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Well..</title><content type='html'>Well fuck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-4264656772858281062?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/4264656772858281062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/10/well.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/4264656772858281062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/4264656772858281062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/10/well.html' title='Well..'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-3774915020520109688</id><published>2010-04-11T02:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T02:12:05.774-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Guh...</title><content type='html'>Yup. Sounds like they're dating now. I wish something would just go right for me. I went over to the dorm she lives in to hang out with other people, and saw her on the way in. We were hanging out for a while, and I could swear she was acting like she liked me, but then at 9 or so, she said she was going to sleep. I poked fun at her early bedtime, and she avoided the topic. Our other friend said loudly that she was actually going out dancing with a guy, and was embarrassed. God, this is confusing. It doesn't help that tons of social drama is happening within that group of friends too. *Sigh*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-3774915020520109688?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/3774915020520109688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/04/guh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/3774915020520109688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/3774915020520109688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/04/guh.html' title='Guh...'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-4260810434573329489</id><published>2010-04-09T00:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T00:57:42.902-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Arg...</title><content type='html'>Arg. So there's this girl (I know, that's sort of a theme here). I worked with her a bit, hung out with her a bit, and I really want to get to know her. I think she's really cute, and I like being around her. That's grounds to pursue a friendship/relationship. Now we were at a party together, and I had hoped to "chat her up" to some extent; get to know her. Of course, this other guy goes over to her and starts talking to her first. Uh oh. I decide to start getting wasted, since, you know, it's a party. I go back to join them in conversation, and he's telling her how he wants to be a minister, and shit. I can't compete with that! I'm a drunk atheist, and I later find that she transferred from a catholic school. Now for a few days, I'm thinking she likes me. This puts me in a great mood. I was hanging out with her today, only to learn that she likes this minister guy (Or so our mutual friend says)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fucking son of a fucking bitch. This keeps happening to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-4260810434573329489?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/4260810434573329489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/04/arg.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/4260810434573329489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/4260810434573329489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/04/arg.html' title='Arg...'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-2617861510045558148</id><published>2010-03-29T04:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T04:06:02.925-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Flustering Crazy Confusion</title><content type='html'>Wow. So that fucking musical is finally over. I hated (loved) every second of it. Now I have to do all my work that I shirked for the last week-and-a-half. I really hope I don't fail out of Clark, but I just have so much trouble doing my work. I know that I want to get it done. I REALLY want to get it done. I want a lot of things, but lack the motivation to pursue any of them. It's weird being me. Once I know what I want, I really think I can go after it, but right now, I feel like I'm inadvertently trying to show off my adaptability to myself, or something, with some crazy notion that I need to prove some skill to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, for now lets work on maybe staying in school and finding a love interest (it's weird when you can't find one person to focus on... not sure I've ever been in that boat before).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-2617861510045558148?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/2617861510045558148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/03/flustering-crazy-confusion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/2617861510045558148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/2617861510045558148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/03/flustering-crazy-confusion.html' title='Flustering Crazy Confusion'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-1458031119777031180</id><published>2010-02-28T12:50:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T12:51:47.281-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Currently....</title><content type='html'>So. That ended pretty well. I'm still single, but that's ok. Right now I'm feeling ok with life. Sort of. I have no money, don't do very well in classes, am single, and tired socially. Otherwise, it's all good. I might get out of bed eventually and do some laundry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-1458031119777031180?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/1458031119777031180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/02/currently.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/1458031119777031180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/1458031119777031180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/02/currently.html' title='Currently....'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-4750949907575073816</id><published>2010-02-21T18:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T18:45:04.254-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Frustration and Procrastination</title><content type='html'>So. Life has been weird these past few weeks. Most importantly, I've been flirting with this girl. Now, I'm usually not terrible as asking girls out and whatnot, but the whole time with this one, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I wasn't really sure why, but I followed my gut. So just yesterday I was hanging out with her for a good while, and she was all but telling me she was frustrated that I wouldn't ask her out. I was way too hung over and poor yesterday to take her to dinner, so I didn't. Today, I decided I would ask her to dinner at the restaurant down the street, but when I got to where she was doing homework, she was with a bunch of people. I didn't want to have that conversation in front of people I didn't know, since that just makes things weirder, so I waited a few minutes, and she promptly got up to flirt with other guys and whatnot. Now I understand if you want to play games and try to make me jealous, or whatever, try showing some normal human interest in me first. I bet you she couldn't tell me much about me. Now I understand that gut feeling. She doesn't seem to care about me, but still would date me? That's not weird or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll update when I know what's going on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-4750949907575073816?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/4750949907575073816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/02/frustration-and-procrastination.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/4750949907575073816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/4750949907575073816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/02/frustration-and-procrastination.html' title='Frustration and Procrastination'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-7616741058964737967</id><published>2010-02-19T02:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T02:37:10.433-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mixed Messages'/><title type='text'>Hrmph.</title><content type='html'>Isn't it weird to be on the receiving end of certain social behavior you were bad with in high school? Sorry to be vague, but it's pretty confusing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-7616741058964737967?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/7616741058964737967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/02/hrmph.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/7616741058964737967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/7616741058964737967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/02/hrmph.html' title='Hrmph.'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-7450669725838903246</id><published>2010-02-19T00:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T00:26:28.655-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Titus Anronicufuckthisshit.</title><content type='html'>Guh.. Paper not going so well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; In the play, Titus Andronicus, the characters' family values are questionable, and while those values take a back seat to most of the more serious drama in the play, can show an interesting new side to some elements of the story. Characters such as Aaron, Titus and Tamora all act contrary to their character, or role in the play when faced with certain family situations. Aaron, in Acts III IV an V, even becomes something of a tragic hero, whereas Titus, the tragic hero becomes a barbarian. &lt;br /&gt; The main character, Titus, is generally looked at as an old warrior made victim of cruelty, but one may feel the need to point out that among other evils, he kills two of his own children, for seemingly little reason. He acts in a barbarous way at times, even though he is supposed to be the tragic hero. Shakespeare calls attention to this on multiple instances by having characters relate Titus' behavior to the mannerisms and lifestyles of the Goths. Upon Titus telling Tamora of his need to sacrifice Alarbus, she bursts out, “O cruel irreligious piety!” (when Chiron asks...) “Was never Scythia half so Barbarous.” (1.1.130-131). &lt;br /&gt; Aaron spends the first two acts convincing people to do terrible things, seemingly just for fun. He has no grudges against Titus, but that he cares for Tamora. For this reason, at first, one may suspect Aaron to be Shakespeare's most evil villain, but in act III, he does something surprising: he kills the nurse of his bastard son and flees to the Goths for his son's safety. When Aaron runs from Rome, he gives up his lover and any more chances for the political interference he seems to love so much. On his way to Gothic territory, he is caught by Lucius, one of Titus' sons, and his army of Goths. Lucius captures Aaron, and in exchange for sparing the child, Aaron admits to all of the crimes committed, after which he speaks the following monologue: &lt;br /&gt;“Ay, that I had not done a thousand more.&lt;br /&gt;Even now I curse the day--and yet, I think,&lt;br /&gt;Few come within the compass of my curse,--&lt;br /&gt;Wherein I did not some notorious ill,&lt;br /&gt;As kill a man, or else devise his death,&lt;br /&gt;Ravish a maid, or plot the way to do it,&lt;br /&gt;Accuse some innocent and forswear myself,&lt;br /&gt;Set deadly enmity between two friends,&lt;br /&gt;Make poor men's cattle break their necks;&lt;br /&gt;Set fire on barns and hay-stacks in the night,&lt;br /&gt;And bid the owners quench them with their tears.&lt;br /&gt;Oft have I digg'd up dead men from their graves,&lt;br /&gt;And set them upright at their dear friends' doors,&lt;br /&gt;Even when their sorrows almost were forgot;&lt;br /&gt;And on their skins, as on the bark of trees,&lt;br /&gt;Have with my knife carved in Roman letters,&lt;br /&gt;'Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead.'&lt;br /&gt;Tut, I have done a thousand dreadful things&lt;br /&gt;As willingly as one would kill a fly,&lt;br /&gt;And nothing grieves me heartily indeed&lt;br /&gt;But that I cannot do ten thousand more.”  (5.1.124-144)&lt;br /&gt;Aaron clearly stated that he does evil for the sake of doing evil. He and Titus change when the child is born and Titus goes insane, and it creates an interesting change of roles. Titus becomes something of a villain, and Aaron a tragic hero.  &lt;br /&gt; It's easier to see Aaron as a victim after his quote: &lt;br /&gt;"Coal-black is better than another hue&lt;br /&gt;In that it scorns to bear another hue&lt;br /&gt;For all the water in the ocean&lt;br /&gt;Can never turn the swan's black legs to white." (4.2.98-101) He defends his son's skin color, which he himself has been ostracized for. This causes us to consider that he may be doing evil to get his revenge on the world for the treatment of those with dark skin. The quickness with which he loves his son shows how alone he has been before the child's birth. &lt;br /&gt; Titus shows very little love for his family, for someone who commits his life to vengeance for his fallen sons and daughter. He kills his son, Mutius in the first scene, simply for trying to assist his sister Lavinia in escaping forced wedlock: “What, villian boy! Barrs't me my way in Rome?” [He kills him.] He also kills Lavinia with seemingly no emotion, after she has been given revenge on Tamora and her kin: “Die, die Lavinia, and thy shame with thee; [Kills Lavinia] And, with thy shame, thy father's sorrow die!” One might question Titus' status as a tragic hero when he throws away his children as if they were garbage. &lt;br /&gt; Tamora also has an intriguing twist to her character. She displays some very misogynistic behavior, which is somewhat confusing, since she marries Saturninus, loves Aaron, and is portrayed as a figure of lust. It is most noticeable during act II scene 3, where she tells Chiron and Demetrius to rape Lavinia: &lt;br /&gt;“So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee:&lt;br /&gt;No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.”&lt;br /&gt;This, could also possibly be a product of Tamora's vengeance, but relating to jealousy over Lavinia and Bassianus, when Tamora can't be with Aaron. She is driven mainly by revenge for Titus, but this act is different, because it is direct cruelty toward Lavinia, who hasn't harmed Tamora. &lt;br /&gt; The overt acts of violence and revenge in this play effectively mask these interesting changes in personality and values of our three main characters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-7450669725838903246?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/7450669725838903246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/02/titus-anronicufuckthisshit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/7450669725838903246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/7450669725838903246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/02/titus-anronicufuckthisshit.html' title='Titus Anronicufuckthisshit.'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-6554597885595767743</id><published>2010-02-16T01:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T01:11:23.821-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm lazy</title><content type='html'>Wow, totally slacking on the whole blog thing. So things are pretty normal around here, in my life. I'm actually procrastinating a paper right now. Fucking theater is pretty intense right now too. Busy busy busy. Oh well. Things will be awesome when all this craziness is gone, if I do what I'm planning on (I'm unreliable with these things).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you see me, make sure to yell at me to finish my work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-6554597885595767743?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/6554597885595767743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-lazy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/6554597885595767743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/6554597885595767743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-lazy.html' title='I&apos;m lazy'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-6906098335125908570</id><published>2009-12-05T04:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T04:08:01.643-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Review of Columbia River Guppie Multi-Tool</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="hreview"&gt;&lt;div class="item"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rei.com/product/760513"&gt;Originally submitted at REI&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.powerreviews.com/images_products/05/91/548335_100.jpg" class="photo" align="left" style="margin: 0 0.5em 0 0"&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top:0"&gt;This little CRKT Guppie is fat on features. Tackle jobs needing an adjustable wrench, driver bits, LED light, knife and more!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rei.com/product/760513" style="display: none;" class="url fn"&gt;&lt;span class="fn"&gt;Columbia River Guppie Multi-Tool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br clear="left"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong class="summary"&gt;Sub-Par for CRKT&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;By &lt;strong&gt;Kryzm&lt;/strong&gt; from &lt;strong&gt;Worcester, Massachusetts&lt;/strong&gt; on &lt;strong&gt;&lt;abbr title="2009125T1200-0800" class="dtreviewed" style="border: none; text-decoration: none;"&gt;12/5/2009&lt;/abbr&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0.5em 0; height: 15px; width: 83px; background-image: url(http://images.powerreviews.com/images/stars_small.gif); background-position: 0px -72px;" class="prStars prStarsSmall"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="display: none"&gt;&lt;span class="rating"&gt;2&lt;/span&gt;out of 5&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gift: &lt;/strong&gt;No&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pros: &lt;/strong&gt;Functional&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cons: &lt;/strong&gt;Difficult To Clean, Useless Tools&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Uses: &lt;/strong&gt;Home&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Describe Yourself: &lt;/strong&gt;Avid Adventurer&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top:1em" class="description"&gt;I bought this product a year ago, and when I took it out of the packaging, I immediately knew that it was not something I would carry. While the Guppy does have many tools, none of them are quite nearly as useful as a stand alone version of that tool. For instance, the wrench is very loose, the bottle opener breaks bottles, the carabiner opens less than three quarters of an inch, and the bit holder/LED falls off easily. I took a small piece of plastic cord to attach the bit holder to the carabiner, to keep from losing it. At some point a few months ago, I decided to take the multitool apart to clean the grime and rust(!) out of the inside, but then found that it is nearly impossible to get the spring back into the blade. My blade is now held shut with a piece of 16 gauge wire. The blade, while sharp out of the box, dulled quickly with normal use. The flimsy belt clip bent outward very easily, and it affixed with three small torx screws, making it too much of a hassle to fix.&lt;br xmlns:pr="xalan://com.pufferfish.core.beans.xmlbuilders.xsl.Functions"&gt;&lt;br&gt;My conclusion, this is a bulky, oddly shaped version of a $3 leatherman rip off I bought at a dollar store. I give it a 2/5 though, because it has gotten me out of more jams than I care to admit, and I love the CRKT knife I bought prior to this purchase.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top:0.5em"&gt;(&lt;a href="http://www.powerreviews.com/legal/terms_of_use.html" rel="license"&gt;legalese&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-6906098335125908570?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/6906098335125908570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-review-of-columbia-river-guppie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/6906098335125908570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/6906098335125908570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-review-of-columbia-river-guppie.html' title='My Review of Columbia River Guppie Multi-Tool'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-9083072593704509881</id><published>2009-12-03T02:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T03:12:39.328-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='College'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Angst'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grades'/><title type='text'>Constant Failure</title><content type='html'>Hey there mister blog.&lt;br /&gt;So recently I have been really feeling the negative consequences of my usual lifestyle. Some problems are these: I'm a loner, and don't fit with any of my friend groups all the time. I need to get out and exercise, but I always find excuses. I am so good at avoiding things that make me uncomfortable, I avoided all of my assignments this semester, and might fail out of school. I am starting to thing that the force of will that I always thought I had is just my imagination. I know I could stop typing right now and sit down and do my CS homework for tomorrow morning, but I know that if I stay up and write this post, I will not turn in the homework tomorrow, or likely not even go to class. This motivational issue gets worse in the mornings. I set my alarm for 10AM for a 10:25 class, then convince myself that I don't have to go to class, before my common sense and good judgment can wake up. I genuinely want to work hard, and I genuinely want to be at this school, and study what I can. My whole life, I have avoided school work, and I always got away with it, sometimes with good grades. Right now, I am on academic probation, and failing two classes. I am hopefully going to write a pre-appeal letter to the college board, but I can't even seem to get around to doing that. All of this anxiety is ruining my semester, and while it eats away at my sanity, it makes me even more unlikely to do my work. It's a cycle that keeps getting harder to throw. I can't think of anything in my life right now that I'm very happy about. That's sad, isn't it? I'm usually a really optimistic person, if a little realistic. It's gotten to the point where I just want to take a year off or something. I know that it won't be helpful though, since I'll probably just work at the same place I always do, make a tiny bit of money, and learn nothing. If the job market weren't so fucked up, I might think about doing it. I really wish I had an idea for a small business. I am seriously considering switching my major to business management, on the recommendation of a friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to stop whining, I want to make known my thoughts on why people lose motivation. I personally think that when I am too realistic, I understand that the only reasons to do anything in life are either social, personal or necessary to life. When I have never felt a strong repercussion for not doing something, I have no reason to do it. If I have never noticed a time where it helped me a lot in life, I won't do it. I wish people didn't care so much for social norms. Fuck grades. I knew everything that I learned in astronomy, but I'm still failing it. Why? Because what difference does it make? If I go to apply for a job, and they care more about my college degree than what I know, fuck them too. Why does everything have to be the way it is? Why can't people learn to accept things that don't fit the norm? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I'm rambling, but you know, stream of consciousness and all that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could rant forever on everything about people, but that would mean waking up even later tomorrow, and missing my Javascript lab: the only part of CS121 where I actually learn anything. And on that topic, how the fuck can a professor expect me to write programs on paper in a midterm?! When I use a computer, I can use trial and error. On paper, I can't. Same thing? No. Fuck you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-9083072593704509881?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/9083072593704509881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2009/12/constant-failure.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/9083072593704509881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/9083072593704509881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2009/12/constant-failure.html' title='Constant Failure'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-5266751381812070083</id><published>2009-11-21T16:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T16:19:29.792-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Technology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='XBox 360'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Obsolescence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iPod'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Frustration'/><title type='text'>Fuck Everything.</title><content type='html'>In our modern world, we have many growing issues, and many of them can be traced back to what is called deliberate, or planned obsolescence. Deliberate obsolescence is a manufacturing decision by a company to make consumer products in such a way that they become out-of-date or useless within a known time period. The main goal of this type of production is to ensure that consumers will have to buy the product multiple times, rather than only once. This naturally stimulates demand for an industry's products because consumers have to keep coming back again and again.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deliberate obsolescence in all its forms – Technological, psychological, or planned – is a uniquely American invention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Not only did we invent disposable products, ranging from diapers to cameras to contact lenses, but we invented the very concept of disposability itself, as a necessary precursor to our rejection of tradition and our promotion of progress and change. As American manufacturers learned how to exploit obsolescence, American consumers increasingly accepted it in every aspect of their lives.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to address this growing problem in modern technology. Recently, technology is getting less reliable as time goes on. Certain things that, if made ten years ago, might still be around, manage to break in one year. For instance, every iPod I have owned has broken in between ten and fourteen months. Notice I said EVERY IPOD: this is exactly what Apple wants me to say. They know that I am still going to get a new one once it breaks, so they have no incentive to build them more durable. Companies like Apple know that they can use cheaper, less durable components, assuming that I am not going to want to own my iPod for more time than the components last. This also causes landfills to fill up with things like cell phones, cathode-ray-tube monitors and similar obsolete technology.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually, software pushes hardware to be more powerful, then hardware pushes software. This cycle is the heart of technological advance. Recently, software has been getting much better, while hardware is just being pushed to more and more fragile points to keep up with the software. People care more that they can fit 160GB worth of music in their pocket than they do about shelling out $250 every 12 months. In essence, an iPod is a small hard drive with some software and a user interface. I have owned a different small hard drive for upwards of 6 years, with almost daily use, and it still works just fine.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some products aren't just built fragile, they are deliberately made to break around when their warranty expires. The XBox 360 is a prime example, where more than 50% of owners have had a hardware failure in the first year of ownership. Part of the reason for that is that the cooling system was errored when the console launched November, 2005. That's four years ago, and yes, I've been through three of them. There is even a commonly used trick to kill your xbox, just so you can send it in for replacement before the warranty ends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a point of reference, think of older technology that's still around. For instance, I have a computer from 1999 that still works as if it were new. Think of old VCRs, or CD players. They didn't die of old age. What will happen to modern technology in ten years? If companies would start building their hardware for long term use, this wouldn't happen. Another possible solution would be to boycott fragile products, but we all know that people are too lazy to live any way but with 40000 songs in their pocket, and don't get me started on that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-5266751381812070083?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/5266751381812070083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2009/11/fuck-everything.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/5266751381812070083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/5266751381812070083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2009/11/fuck-everything.html' title='Fuck Everything.'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-89180840214246095</id><published>2009-11-08T18:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T18:54:01.565-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Fuuuuck&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-89180840214246095?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/89180840214246095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2009/11/fuuuuck.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/89180840214246095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/89180840214246095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2009/11/fuuuuck.html' title=''/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-3907529094068340954</id><published>2009-11-03T11:04:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T11:06:14.987-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fucking Social Cues</title><content type='html'>So don't you hate it when you think something about someone, and they perpetuate that feeling, only for you to find out they were thinking of someone else the whole time? Yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-3907529094068340954?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/3907529094068340954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2009/11/fucking-social-cues.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/3907529094068340954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/3907529094068340954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2009/11/fucking-social-cues.html' title='Fucking Social Cues'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-5750600005509448227</id><published>2009-08-20T17:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T17:18:55.696-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='People'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tools'/><title type='text'>Pent Up Frustration</title><content type='html'>So I work with a residential theater company over the summer this year. I get to live on Cape Cod, and I get fed for free, but make very little money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on the set crew, building sets and scenery for nine shows in ten weeks. Very stressful job. I'm also really big on carrying around my own tools, and I like to be ready for everything. I just found out today, that somebody bent the shaft of my $200 drill. This doesn't quite render it useless, but it's a very annoying little problem that I would never have if I hadn't shared my tools with everyone. If I were to ask who dropped it, nobody would fess up. If I asked for reimbursement, I would receive none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some times you need to think about it before you decide to be nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will people appreciate it? Will people respect it? Will people return the favor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer to all three is probably "no," so don't be nice if it does nothing but cause problems for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-5750600005509448227?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/5750600005509448227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2009/08/pent-up-frustration.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/5750600005509448227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/5750600005509448227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2009/08/pent-up-frustration.html' title='Pent Up Frustration'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2175624379808725417.post-2424930042814097043</id><published>2009-08-20T00:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T00:59:28.688-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Philosophy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Meaning of Life'/><title type='text'>The Meaning of Life</title><content type='html'>So as I lay on the couch, trying to sit through a splitting headache, with people having sex in my room, I ponder the meaning of life... or at least the value of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most (educated) people believe that time stretches on to infinity in both directions, right?&lt;br /&gt;Well I then think to the laws of conservation of mass and energy.&lt;br /&gt;Together, these theories form the basis for my theory that all of the matter and energy must form and reform every possible combination, infinite times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well if you still agree with me, think about this:&lt;br /&gt;The concept of infinity then dictates that every single thing we have ever done, will ever do, or are currently doing will be repeated over and over again endlessly. Everything that you have ever done has been done before by a perfect copy of yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you believe that the universe extends in every direction to infinity, then you also need to accept the fact that there are also infinite instance of yourself out there, having the same thoughts and making the same decisions as you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you've ever heard the theory that there is a different universe for every single choice made, you might think of this. Every single world where you decided to blink just now, or not has happened before, infinite times. In some past instances of yourself, you decide to stand up, do three cartwheels, then sit back down. However, the chance that you would do that is far less than the chance of you staying seated, and reading the rest of this post. For every single choice, there is an absolute chance of its occurrence, but doing cartwheels is also infinitely less likely than staying seated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I conclude that if the aforementioned theories of existentialism are true, there is no meaning of life, but to be a sheep in the never ending cycle that is the universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may come back to this topic, but my headache finally went away, and I need to sleep for work tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2175624379808725417-2424930042814097043?l=mintyshiv.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/feeds/2424930042814097043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2009/08/meaning-of-life.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/2424930042814097043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2175624379808725417/posts/default/2424930042814097043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mintyshiv.blogspot.com/2009/08/meaning-of-life.html' title='The Meaning of Life'/><author><name>MintyShiv</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12857473540488863027</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
