God in Statistics

Growing up, and well into my teenage years, I always assumed atheists were the majority in America. My schools always seemed, to me, to have more atheists than anything. Most of the adults I met seemed indifferent, probably agnostic by definition. Most seemed to scoff or shrug at religion. Yet whenever the students were polled, Christianity and Catholicism came out on top. I wondered if I just wasn't seeing them, or if atheists were lying when polled.

When I questioned people, it seemed to be a matter of pressure. When confronted with religious subject matter, people would endure it with visible displeasure or disinterest. Yet when it came down to reading 'Do you believe in God?' dramatically before them in black and white, they marked affirmatively, 'just to be on the safe side'.

My mother was always one of these people. In conversation with a familiar person, she would say that she did not believe in her Protestant upbringing; yet in facing an unfamiliar person or a known Christian, it was always 'Of course I believe in God!' in fear of being seen as a 'bad person'.

Lovely.

I have found this to be true of many people up to now, and today, on the Internet, it holds true. Does it not seem to you that most of the people you encounter online are agnostic/atheistic, whether they describe themselves as such or not? Either disbelieving, doubtful, or indifferent. One seems to have to search specifically for religious websites and forums to find a place where they are the majority.

We Have Weather, Again?

Massachusetts has been amazingly devoid of storms for the past several years. I remember absolutely immense storms of awesomely dark clouds and lightning so rapid it seemed to nearly produce a steady daylight. I remember a tornado that picked up the tipis of a local campground and dropped them in a parking lot near the city hall. But the weather over the past several years has been comparatively disappointing.

But in the last two weeks we have had three impressive storms and one (though very unnecessary, I think) tornado warning. I spent a great deal of time out in the torrential rain today. I have missed wet Summers.

Four More Years! Four More Years!

Yeah, like Hell.

Our search for a home on hold, Delanie and I seem to have loosely agreed on staying here indefinitely. I am at once excited and dubious. It is good to be settled together in any manner, and I am often proud of Massachusetts, but I am not for one moment looking forward to another strangling Winter.

It can be beautiful, romantic, and inspiring, but the toll on food coupled with the ridiculously irrelevant employment opportunities is simply not worth the climatic variety or the pride of living in the most liberal state.

The company in Carlsbad which I flew to Las Vegas in 2005 for an interview with, and which I have been so persistently seeking employment at, has recently cut most of their number, letting them go with a basic 'You're all fired,' in a parking lot, leaving only dozens out of hundreds.

I suppose that I can now thank the immensely late taxi service -- which caused me to miss the interview -- for allowing me to avoid such a crushing blow.

Nonetheless, I still have to make it to Minnesota as promised to Erick, or back to California as sworn to myself. Yet the present consists of a stifling state of affairs. Being the only two non-smoking, non-drinking, well-nourished, healthy humans in a county of shambling, overweight, zombified, straw-haired, fish-eyed alcoholics and heroin addicts is taxing on a couple's sense of external comaraderie, I think.

The condominium unit in Westfield sold for $140,000. With my share, I have, thus far, bought seaweed. It beats living on royalties from 2002-2004. I would like an arrangement like that again, but the industry seems to have gone bonkers (obviously, because it's not doing what I want).

In any case, we are planning a camping excursion to the nearby Prospect Mountain for the week surrounding my birthday. Delanie means to enjoy rummaging through the mining scraps for shiny booty, while I mean to enjoy being at least eighty feet away from ridiculous people at any given time, and together we mean to enjoy the latter with duality.

I have only ever camped in months of Spring and Autumn, never in the heat August. I look forward to it.

It Tickles Me, Too

Candace says (10:56 PM):
Hey, I found that GetOffMySpace post about you. Very interesting read.
Kyle says (10:56 PM):
I imagine.
Candace says (10:56 PM):
I admit I chuckled.
Kyle says (10:56 PM):
I didn't even bother trying to get into the community.
Candace says (10:57 PM):
Half of the comments were about how angry they were that you are apparently,
um... well-endowed.
Candace says (10:58 PM):
One comment even said that it was the biggest one they've seen.
Candace says (10:58 PM):
Which is... interesting?
Candace says (10:58 PM):
But anyway, that pissed them off.
Kyle says (10:58 PM):
Odd. I know that I am above the 'statistical' average, but that is not saying much.
The supposed average is pretty unbelievably small. I doubt the statistics. Then
again, I suppose I am of the standard male mentality that the size of the penis is
not sufficient until his partner is killed by it.
Candace says (10:58 PM):
Hahaha.
Kyle says (10:59 PM):
But yes, that is funny, and I thank you for sharing. It made my id's night.
Candace says (10:59 PM):
But I laughed, since a lot of them were so enraged.
Kyle says (11:00 PM):
Stop that. I almost want to intentionally submit something intentionally enraging.
Candace says (11:01 PM):
I'm an enabler, haha.
Candace says (11:01 PM):
I do love when little groups like this get, for lack of better terms, butt-hurt like this.
Candace says (11:02 PM):
It tickles me.

Witnessing Human Death

Plenty of family members have died in the past, but always have I been far from the event. Never with them. Let alone living in their home.

The third of my four grandparents died at 9:17;PM, twelve months after having been diagnosed with cancer. I lived here in his home for the last month. Being a journal, I should be able to describe everything I witnessed here, but I can't seem to. I will simply say that I found it grotesque.

My unusual (in this family) views on human life and death made my reaction different from that of the others. While they watched him and cried, I watched them and wondered. While they felt slighted and saddened, I felt angry that it was all shrouded and diluted in superstition.

My father saw it, but I doubt anyone else would even know how to recognize it.

Something About a Series of Tubes

I could never have imagined that so many of these people could exist in the 21st century.
http://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=2391993