Filler (no not this post...I would never EVER write a post that was simply filler...and stop projecting onto me)

So I've taken the plunge and started watching some anime. I guess I shouldn't say 'taken the plunge'...this wasn't something that I was thinking about doing and then hemmed and hawed for a long period of time before finally deciding to get involved with. It was more like something that I had pretty much never thought about- anime was literally dead to me.

I had some experiences as an adolescent with Dragonball Z which really soured me to anime. The whole 'ridiculously overpowered attack that should destroy the enemy but ends up not hurting him at all but then the enemy counterattacks and destroys our hero and this whole battle is going to go on for a couple hundred episodes that really shouldn't be more than like fifty episodes'...it was just a little too over the top for me. So when I say 'took the plunge'...I think it was more like I was kidnapped, held against my will, and then dumped in the lake when the ransom didn't come through.

I now realize that there is probably nothing on Earth for which Dragonball Z should be the basis for your judgment.

My wife started watching a show called "Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood" on Sunday nights while we played Heroclix. At first I didn't pay much attention to it- I figured that it would be little more than people flying through the air in cool action poses (see the Strongbad e-mail called 'Japanese Cartoon'...yes...it's that epic). Plus they were speaking in Japanese, so it was pretty easy to ignore.

Then I started watching bits and pieces of it. It was extremely sad and tragic at times. First off, the whole show revolves around these two brothers who tried to transmute their dead mother back to life. This inevitably fails, and one of the brothers (Al) is lost in this limbo area called "The Truth", so the other brother (Ed) sacrifices his arm to bring back the soul of Al, which he transfixes to a soul of armor.

In one episode, it shows the daughter of a man who has recently been killed, and she is crying because her daddy is being put into the ground, and she's wondering how he is going to be able to go to work if he's being put into the ground. Yeah. As a dad, that's going to be a real big selling point for me getting into this show. NOT. Yet, the fact that they dealt with such a topic in a very real way definitely got my intrigueometer going.

Another episode dealt with a man who basically took his daughter and turned her into a dog. Again, it was heart-wrenching, disgusting...and starting to get interesting. I gradually started to sneak more and more peeks at the show. I started to ask questions. I would watch an episode here and there. Around episode 42, I was hooked, and started watching every episode. When we got all caught up and had to start waiting for the new episodes which released weekly, I went back and started watching old episodes.

Then I woke up one morning and realized that I was hooked on Anime.

Now in reality, this is all set up for what I really want to talk about. I guess you could call it filler. What I really want to write about is, ironically, filler.

Several shows that my friend has talked about me getting into are only one or two seasons long. And it isn't that they got canned after that- it's that the whole show is self contained within that framework. This concept fascinates me.

It fascinates me because I'm not used to a TV show having a definite plan, sticking too it, and not continuing to make episodes for the sake of making money. Lost, I'm looking at you.

It seriously is frustrating that here in America, rather than just letting the story tell itself until there is nothing left to tell. Instead, we find a show the people like, and decide to keep cranking out episodes until the actors are old, the jokes have dried up, and the show is merely a shell of what it once was.

I know that not all anime shows are this way- I'm told that Bleach (a show that I'm actually interested in watching) has many episodes of filler. So I realize that anime as a medium is not immune to the wiles of greed. But the fact that there are shows that know when their time is done and stick to that- it's amazing to me.

I think about shows like Smallville, Prison Break...even The Office. These are shows that I feel have went for far too long. Smallville had a run of four excellent seasons- when Clark was in high school, it just like such a breath of fresh air- the Superman mythos from a different perspective. It's like if we found a lost scroll that dealt with the life of Jesus in his 20's...a fascinating look into the life of Superman before he was Superman. And we were even willing to overlook the fact that every single episode revolved around Clark somehow dealing with some sort of Kryptonite powered freak.

But now? The show is a joke. They stretched it for far too long. It has ceased to be relevant.

Prison Break Season 1 was, in my opinion, the best television season a show has ever had. Theoretically it could have been a self-contained entity with a few tweaks, and it would have probably become the best show ever. I would even concede that Season 2 was pretty good as well- seeing how Scofield would be in action without the meticulous planning as the convicts tried to complete the actual escape. Season 2 was pretty good.

But Season 3? He goes back to Prison? REALLY???? Okay, I realize that there is the whole government conspiracy thing that is running slightly underneath the surface of the actual prison break. But to have him go back into prison has, in my esteem, taken what could have been the best show ever and made it into a mockery.

Even The Office, which is one of my favorite shows of all time, is not exempt from criticism in this area. Sure, Season 5 was phenomenal...but I had to sit through mediocre seasons in 3 and 4 to get there. Being a faux documentary about life in an office means that, I suppose, you could just keep going on and on and on...because life in an actual office goes on and on and on. And that's why there needs to be a definitive end in place at the beginning...because what's going to happen is that the name of my favorite show will be dragged through the mud as the writers try to slog through their minds to try and keep a reanimated corpse alive.

So in sum, I'm a fan of anime...a fanime, if you will. Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood is almost done. It has exceeded my expectations. The story has ebbed and flowed, the action has increased in intensity without getting too ridiculous. Is it sad that the end is on the horizon? Yes- but no, at the same time. Because I know that what is transpiring before my eyes is the culmination of a long journey- and not a way for someone to keep taking money from a dead horse.

GOAL

I have a confession to make- I am a Bandwagon Fan. And you know what? I have no problem with my bandwagon fan-ness. I rooted for the Lakers to win the NBA finals this year- not because of any affinity for the team, but because I didn't want to see Rasheed win another ring. I cheered for my friends beloved Blackhawks- in spite of Benedict Hossa on their roster. I got fired up in 2006 when the Tigers went to the World Series, and in 2009 while Dan LeFevour was taking his season long victory lap as the best quarterback in MAC history (I even asked for a LeFevour jersey for Christmas).

Maybe those are bad examples of being a bandwagon fan. After all, a couple of those examples were rooted in righteous vindication. One of them was more like an old flame being reignited. And I actually went to Central Michigan University for a couple years, so it's not really being a bandwagon fan if you're cheering for a sort of Alma Mater...is it? Oh well. Too late to go back now.

Let's put those examples aside, and get to the real reason that I am writing this- the World Cup. For the next month, I am a US soccer fan. Bandwagon, but a fan nonetheless.

See, I watched USA vs. Algeria yesterday-the first game that I've watched. I read about their game versus England, and read the headline about Slovenia. Shoot, I still haven't even seen the replay of the disallowed goal in that game. Before yesterday, I couldn't have even named another US soccer player outside of Landon Donovan...and the only reason I knew him was because I used to own a soccer game from 2003 that he was on the cover of.

Yet here I was yesterday morning, watching the game before work, cheering for my country, feeling genuinely concerned that they were in danger of being sent home from the tournament after group play. Never mind the fact that I didn't know this before yesterday. Forget the fact that I didn't know that the USA hadn't won their group since 1930. I was a USA soccer fan yesterday, and have the Facebook status updates to prove it. And now I'm blogging about it. So obviously you cannot question my pedigree. I bleed Red White and Blue through and through!

Also, I found out something about myself in that hour and a half of tense excitement- soccer is actually a pretty cool game. Some people knock it because there isn't much scoring. But there is a lot to like about soccer. I may never get to the point where I kill a player for making a mistake in a big game- but I can see myself becoming a legitimate soccer fan.

For instance, there is so much passion and tradition in this game. I know ordinarily that making a decision based on the opinions of the masses is not smart, but I feel like there is a reason that soccer is the most popular sport in the world. From the way that the fans deck themselves out in patriotic garb to the way in which they celebrate and agonize- it feels like you're watching more than a sporting event, you are partaking in the history and soul of entire nations.

Now I'm not thinking about all of the professional leagues, admittedly. It's a little overwhelming to think about all of that. I remember that 2003 soccer game, and it felt like there were literally thousands of teams to choose from. That's just too much choice for me. International soccer though? That's something else.

I love international competition. Hundreds of athletes from different cultures, different religions, different languages- connected in those moments by mere games. The imagery is so powerful. Why can't life be like sports? We can compete with other people and then walk away and be ourselves. I don't think the idea of a kumbaya-hold-hands-singing world peace is very realistic (or even desireable), but at the same time I don't think that lots of bombing and shooting is necessary either.

But I didn't want to go there. I definitely did not start this post with the idea of getting into weighty items. I just wanted you to know what I am absolutely 100% proud of my status as a bandwagon fan. Maybe one day I will be an actual soccer fan. And that day will probably come in four years, when the next World Cup is. Until then though, viva la Bandwagon Fan!!!

Reasonably speaking...

I was on the internet yesterday and stumbled across this little piece of opinion. And it made me think a little bit. After thinking, I decided to write. But there's a problem- who writes anymore? That is, in the literal archaic sense of the word- why take the time to find a small piece of dead tree, or plastic, and then exert the energy to physically compose your thoughts onto a thin slice of more dead tree? Just type it- it's way faster! So that's what I'm doing.

First of all, I have a problem with that assessment. Not because it is an atheistic item- far from it. I would have just as much problem if someone told me that God exists just because the Bible says so. I get frustrated when people make statements of finality from platforms that do not afford such a solid foundation. I'm more for people that look for multiple sources of information from many different angles and then make an informed decision.

Not that what a person believes is ultimately my business- because it's not. Each person has their own way of life, and their own ideas and thoughts, and on this matter I'm laissez-faire. Force my beliefs on you? No. Not so much. Share ideas and information? I'm all about that. It's how we grow- we share parts of ourselves with others, and they share parts of themselves with us. So we become a part of each person we interact with.

I don't have any qualms with the idea that the burden of proof lies with religion- because, after all, it is making an extraordinary claim. And I don't disagree with the notion that the scientific method cannot be used as a defense of the existence of God. There is just no way that such a study could be done objectively- and no way that such a study could be done period. How would you conduct experiments? Or do observations? So on these points, I don't deny this argument.

Of course....

Then I also would use this argument to contest that love does not exist. Or hate...compassion...basically any human emotion. And this is why I don't think that our little piece of opinion ultimately stands as any sort of real defense. Because you can't use the scientific method on emotions.

What I mean is that our emotions are a complicated thing. Certainly there are physiological expressions- when we hate someone or something, maybe our fists will clench or our faces will tighten up. Fear can make our heart pump faster. There are countless examples- these are just a few. These can be scientifically observed.

But what can't be observed is the cognitive process of those emotions. And the interplay between the physiological and cognitive. And the behaviors that accompany those thoughts and feelings. Trust me- having worked with abused kids the past few years, I can tell you that love can become very twisted and warped from the "norm". Add in a myriad of other factors...and you have a phenomenon that is simply unable to be assessed scientifically.

So systematic and empirical observation is flat out, because I can do all sorts of things that outwardly look like love, and would probably be labeled as love...that really have nothing to do with love. Maybe I clean the house while my wife is at work. Or give her a hug and a kiss when she gets home. Those are behaviors that would be traditionally labeled as loving behaviors.

But how do you know that's love? Maybe I just want something. It could be our routine. Honestly, there could be more love being exhibited from me when I'm yelling at my kids or spanking them than there could be in a kiss to my wife. I'm not saying that's the case...I'm just using that to show that love is, in my opinion, outside of the realm of the scientific method.

Does that mean that emotion doesn't exist? Or that it can't be measured? Of course not. We just measure it differently. We use qualitative types of measures. Asking people how they would define the emotion in their lives. What does this mean to you? How do you show it? What happens when you feel it? It's the same thing with God. I'm not trying to say that God is merely an emotion- that's outside of the realm of depth that I'm looking to get into a half hour before work. I'm saying that there are similarities with the way that people experience God and emotions- so you can't say via the scientific method that one exists but not the other. It's just...different.

Realistically, the objective existence of a God is a moot point. That's not how the concept works. I just feel that to simply brush off their claims and ideas as false just because it doesn't line up with this inappropriate means of measurement...is unreasonable. Can it be proved? No. Does that mean it's not real? No. Food for thought.

Anyhow...I'm anxious to share some thoughts on topics o'controversy. And I'm working on it...in my mind. Hopefully I can get some spare moments of breathing to sort them out and hone them into lethal machines of intrigue. Until then- please sit on the edges of your seats in anticipation!!!

Four leaf cleavage

*Warning- This blog post may or may not contain content that is for mature audiences. Viewer discretion is advised. Of course, I doubt that many immature people read my blog, and those that do are probably me.

Sometimes I feel like bears and boobs have a lot in common. They both begin with the letter 'B', and they both come out of hibernation when the snow melts away. So maybe they don't have a lot in common.

Spring and summer are the absolute hardest seasons to be a man who tries to adhere to a sense of moral decency. I don't have any sort of real statitstic to back this up, but I'm pretty sure that the ratio of cleavage to girls goes from like 1:400 to like 65:1. As a man, I constantly have to be on alert- at any given moment, I could be confronted by a girl who is ventilating her mammary glands. Maybe it's a spaghetti strap shirt, maybe it's a low cut 't', maybe the boobs are just bigger than the material. But whatever the case, I find it more difficult to make eye contact with women between April and August.

Today, I had an epiphany. See, I constantly live in dread of this time of year. It's probably like a shark feels when there's blood in the water. The shark is probably just going about his business- not even really hungry...but since you put it out there I am going to get in a frenzy and tear you to shreds. Cleavage works the same way for me. I really try to not gawk and stare, for a few reasons- I want to have respect for my wife, respect for the cleavager, and respect for the idea that 'looking at a woman lustfully is the same as committing adultery'. But you know what?

Those days are gone. Done. Finito.

See, I realize this now- it is not my responsibility to keep my wandering eyes in their cages. That responsibility falls to the offender.

The woman is the one that chooses her clothes. I have absolutely no say over the wardrobe. Sure, society plays a role in determining what is acceptable, what is trendy and fashionable, and even what clothes are even available. But the woman is the one who decides how she is going to package the goods. Every time she gets dressed, she is making a conscious decision about how the ta-tas are going to be presented. And then what ends up happening is that I can never look that woman in the eye- not because I'm ashamed, but because if you give me the choice to look at your eyes or your chest, I'm sorry, you could be Betty Davis and I'm still picking the rack. But I'm far too chivalrous to actually do this, so I end up looking at the neck/chin region.

But this whole thing is ridiculous. Why am I holding myself responsible when clearly these women are the ones that are making premeditated decisions to put me in situations that I have to struggle to suppress my biological urges? It's like putting a bloody steak in front of a hungry lion and then expecting him to say 'Thanks, but I'll pass. I'm going hunting for some chipmunks today'.

Time for a history lesson. In the old days, there were these things called 'forts' and 'castles' in place to provide protection. Whether it was your crops, your possessions, or your family, you made sure that the other guy couldn't just swoop in and take everything that you held dear. Maybe you had a moat. Maybe it was a thick stone wall. Possibly even a big 'ol gun. Whatever the case, you made darn sure that your stuff was safe.

But if you didn't have secure dwellings, or if you left the door open? Your crap got pillaged and plundered. To me, cleavage is the door to the fort. If you're rocking it, you're basically asking me to come into your fort and swipe all your stuff.

Gas station attendants are the worst. I'm sorry, but if you're standing there at the counter and taking money from me then don't expect that my eyes are going to be locked on anything but your bust. I'm already a little ticked about having to pay upwards of $3.00 a gallon for gas, and then I have to summon every ounce of willpower in my soul to walk out of there with my integrity in tact...no thank you. Not anymore.

So if you are a woman, and you find me staring at your chest, know that you brought this on yourself. I'm not a pervert- I'm a man who is tired of fighting millions of years of evolution (or thousands of years of intelligent design). If you start to feel uncomfortable, it has nothing to do with my preadolescent fixation with knockers; rather, it is the discomfort of reaping what you have sown. If you keep those puppies locked up, you won't have any problems from me. If not...well, you have been warned.

*This post is by and large a joke. Ha ha. I don't plan on taking any awkwardly long gazes down anyone's shirt.

But still...

Twenty bucks on pump four...and hopefully we don't get shot

Inspiration strikes at funny times, and in funny ways. Last night, I was pumping gas at a local BP station, and a guy started to walk up to the store. Now, and I'm ashamed to say this (but we've all been there) he looked like the type of person that would be going into a gas station to hold it up. It's funny how there are little moments that occur in life to keep us humble- obviously I am not as non-judgmental as I thought I was.

But I didn't come here to confess my sins or to make you feel better about yourself. No, this whole incident got my mind spinning inside. I honestly wish that there was a way that I could somehow visually project the thought processes that go on in my mind. It would be a fascinating view!

As this man walked into the BP store for some snacks (unbeknownst to me at the time), I pictured in my mind him pulling a gun on the guy at the register, then bolting out of the store and deciding to start shooting at me, being an eye witness and all. So then I started thinking about that little iddy-biddy thread that holds this whole thing together- society.

One of the arguments that I've read about the existence/non-existence of a God is the idea of human morality. Pro-theists would say that the fact that there are morals, and an innate sense of "right vs. wrong" is a proof that there must be a God- otherwise, how would this be? Those against the deity idea counter that there are people who don't believe in God that exhibit perfectly functioning moral compasses.

To those who work diligently to prove/disprove such things, this argument might be simple, and possibly already irrelevant. But I feel that, having gone through the trauma of being shot at in my mind, I have earned the right to speak on this issue.

I honestly don't believe that this argument can be used on either side- because we don't really know where morality came from. We can, however, reasonably deduce the reason that it has continued- society.

I don't want to get into an evolutionary debate- but I think about stories I've read about feral children, and it's very obvious to me that if we aren't a social "animal", then at the very least we are social "beings". That is, we learn about everything through interactions with others, on many different levels. In fact, to skim the surface of a very deep idea, even our own notion of self is merely the byproduct of social interaction.

This is why the presence of morality cannot be considered a rational argument in regards to the existence of divinity, because morality is a concept that is ingrained in us at an early age and is constantly reinforced through our relationship with others and with our environments. I'll borrow from a brilliant piece of writing to illustrate my point. If we consistently used the 'F' word in our house, and did not attach any sort of negative connotation to it- no scoldings, no "that's a bad word", no mean glares- then our kids would grow up to believe that the 'F' word is a perfectly normal form of expression. At least, that would be the case until they said it around one of their friends- and watched as their friends face lit up in shock. Or when they said it in class, and got sent to the principals office.

A couple things could happen at that point (probably more than that, but let's not argue semantics). Our kids could either get the picture that this is socially unacceptable and conform, or they could decide that they are going to continue to engage in the behavior. Now, there are myriad reasons for these two choices, and an equal number of consequences. The point is that there is no innate understanding that they have "swore"- they have just been socialized as to what the expectations are of language around other people.

Thus, the source of morality is not an issue- all that matters at this point is that it is an acquired trait. And I'm so glad that we have it! As human beings, we are afforded luxuries that animals are not. For instance, if that gas station scenario had played out in the animal kingdom, all bets are off. We'd all be in survival mode, and if our lone gunman needed something I had- and was bigger/faster/stronger than I was (which, he definitely wasn't, I just want to point that out) then there wouldn't be much I could do about it...except drive away in my mini-van. And that would have made me sad, because then I wouldn't have been able to get that chocolate milk or cherry pie that I needed to top off my day.

Basically I have written, and will continue to write, against many of the aspects of the greater society. I think that there are many restrictions that are arbitrarily placed on us that restrict our freedom as human beings. However, I also believe that a certain level of structure and order is required in order to assure us that we can even be human beings, and not just another figment of the animal kingdom.

Besides- if we weren't human beings I couldn't have even allowed my mind to wander to such ridiculous places- you'd be forced to read blog posts from me about great places to eat grass, Posturing 101, and tips on running for your life. And I don't know anything about posturing.