Learning Vs. Memorization; The Joys of Education

Professor Why Do I Need To Know This Again?

(Turn to page 394.)

"Why do I need to know this?" A question I've heard many colleagues ask throughout the years. Honestly, unless you have photographic memory, there is hardly a point to memorizing most of the meaningless shit we're told to memorize in school. For instance: Math. There are more formulas than anyone could ever possibly memorize--sure remember the basics, know some of the key formulas, but is it really necessarily to know ALL of the formulas from chapter 1 until the last chapter for the grand go-fuck-yourself finale?

Wherever does learning come into play? Well an oddity I've found is that when a question is written in the same way repeatedly, a student will answer correctly every time. This is ONLY because they have memorized it being written in that particular framework. If it's written differently? Their mind retreats back to a realm of innocent ignorance. Stumped back pedaling to toddler-hood. They didn't learn, they memorized a pattern. The ability to identify why the question is written in that way, how it can be arranged to suit ones' needs, and most importantly what the fuck the question is asking--that is what's most important, and it isn't solely gained from bullshit memorization.

Who Wants To Be A Martyr?

Help Me I'm a Victim of Life! Oh Never Mind I'd Like to Cry Some More.

(Not a Jedi.)

Have you ever met a person that just seems to beg for a box of tissues with every conversation they hold? They prose on about all of the things that are wrong in their life--past, present, and through some psychic ability they picked up, the future. To play the victim is seemingly the only thing that gives these people satisfaction in life. They want sympathy, they seek advice, they want to be nurtured and coddled. They seemingly feel better and eager to make the changes to improve their situation based on the eloquent time-consuming philosophy you fed them. The end result? NOTHING, ZILCH, NADA, FARTS. They will continue to be victims of their own wonderland drama through some sick satisfaction of making others feel bad for them. Great Thor's hammer of gay porn where do all of these issues come from?! 

I understand all people have hardships, some worse than others, but to sit on them and present them to everyone around you on a daily basis? It's unproductive, and quite frankly it's annoying. As some pot head enthusiast friends of mine would say, "You need to get rid of that negative energy, man" (Not implying that all people who are recreational tokers talk like The Dude from The Big Lebowsky). There are no excuses for focusing on the awfulness of ones' own life to the point of NOT LIVING IN THE PRESENT MOMENT. I don't care how troubling the experience is, was, or will be. Is the glass half empty or half full? Maybe there doesn't appear to be a glass at all--well, if of course the focus is a recording inside your head on repeat entitled: My Shitty Awful Terrible No Good Life, Fuck Your Problems: Vol 1. 

Reconciling With Unpleasant People

"Wise Men Say Forgiveness Is Divine, But Never Pay Full Price For Late Pizza"

(If you remember this, your childhood wasn't awesome and you're at least in your 20s)

I'm looking out to a massive crowd of thousands of people. One out of every 3 of them will never be able to forgive some dickhead in their life. Or will they?...this is the internet--the stats I just threw out there are as fake as middle school puppy love (Statistics are silly anyway). Anyway, without throwing some stupid numbers at everyone, from my experience many turds cannot be reconciled with. It isn't just because they are horrible people, but....well reconciliation is difficult for the person stepping forward. Think of it as being the only non-white person stepping into a KKK meeting--it's awkward, you probably hate each other, and finding any reasonable thing to say is damn near impossible.  

With that being said, there are a few questions you need to ask yourself. "Am I the bag of shit? Are they the bag of shit? Are we both piles of shit in the bag together?" Basically, who's the stubborn person in the situation? After one of these glorious questions have been answered it's time to ask yet another question--"Is it forgivable?" How does somebody even receive forgiveness without groveling like an ant begging for its' life as a demented child burns him alive with a magnifying glass? Oh you didn't know that ants grovel? They do.

Short Story Bakery: Dancing With Devils

The Intruder

     "Hey Troy, remember that time you sold that oregano bullshit to those college kids?" I said, picking dirt out of my underdeveloped goatee.

     "Yeah what about it?" Troy asked leaning on his shovel handle, his tall scrawny body held up with ease. 

     "When they called you out on how legit it was, you asked them 'who the fuck do you think I am?' They laughed and actually bought it--you crazy asshole."

     "Fuck em,' I made buku dollars off those college idiots. The stupid pothead is the best customer. Now let's finish digging this fucking trench."

Insecurity--The Silent Killer or Drunken Atom Bomb

Walk Like A Zombie

(Walk on zombie.)

"I'm fat, I'm ugly, I'm incapable of receiving love, and I'm strange!" A human and their insecurities, many of us have them--wait what? "MANY?" Don't we "ALL" have them? Perfect people and nihilistic sociopaths typically don't have any insecurities, nope. What about those of us who do? Feel like a hollow zombie? That smiling laughing facade equivalent to a zombie's grunts and growls? The expression is there, but it's hungry for something. Depending on what the insecurities are, we're looking for something to accommodate it, to fulfill our hunger--we will grunt and growl aimlessly until we are able to sate our insecurities. The human brains and flesh we smell, taking the form of reference points in our lives that will "point us in the right direction." Friends, media, family, and people you've never even met might give you some advice on how to keep the hungry beast of insecurity satisfied, but who wants to live with insecurity? How do we kill it?

Short Story Bakery: Savages

A Curious Dance

Some fucking mall in Southern California, mid-day

     A man holding two shopping bags, wearing a pair of loosely fitted brown khakis, and a black T-shirt stopped near the entrance of a sunglasses store. Lilly, the store associate continuously glanced at this man with curiosity as he stood there for 84 seconds. On the 85th second he began wiggling his hips around, ending this strange dance routine by kicking out his right leg and shaking it. After his display of odd behavior, he exited the small stage he created into the crowds of fashionable shoppers. 

Brian Hates You All

Let The Shit Storm Commence

(Yeah it's kinda like that.)

So here's my new sunny disposition on life. Everyone is an asshole. It's just in our nature to be, we just can't help ourselves. We will eat each other to get ahead of the lunch line, then eat that horrible tasting mac and cheese too--because honestly, who gives a fuck? 

We live in a time where everything we do is quantified and monitored through the scrutiny of our friends and strangers on social media. Our fuck ups last a lifetime boys and girls. Hash tag "fucked." Things typically restricted to a circle of friends in a hangout spot are not restricted anymore at all. Word spreads like a wildfire. With any luck I'll never have a picture posted of of my ass looking like Miley Cyrus--that giraffe tongued pancake assed twerk machine. With that said, I've done a few things I'm not too proud of--and oh yeah it has been spread like peanut butter.

What am I ranting about? I am very flawed, very flawed indeed. There are people that will remind me of this, do they honestly think that I don't know? Idiots. Like many other people, I am definitely my own worst enemy--I destroy most things in my life that have meaning. Things that have no meaning? Oh I can master every meaningless thing you throw at me. Drinking? Oh yes. Video games? I will own dat ass. Calculus? Derivatives solved, bitch. Want an angry post? Here it is because, I, am definitely having a bad day folks. Oh and I do solemnly swear I am up to no good.