A sleep deprived rant on religion?

I have been thinking a lot lately about a subject that I have seen popping up more and more around the net. What is the subject? Well, the subject is something that a good number of people don't like to talk about but there are those that have shown up on sites like YouTube and have shared their opinions on religion and have told the viewers what they believe. Now, this isn't the reason why I've been thinking about religion. No; religion has been on my mind for quite some time and I have had some very good conversations on the topic and have shared what I believe and what I grew up being taught.

Religion; it's a very hard topic to talk about without stepping on somebody's toes in one way or another. People just love to get heated over it whether they believe or they don't. It doesn't matter their religion of choice. This subject is something that causes people to become completely asses to those around them and it could be due to a friend having a different view on it. But that isn't what this is about, this is about the fact that I have been questioning my religious label. The one thing I've known as truth about religion has become unclear and no, my believing in God has not changed. I still believe and more than likely always will but no longer am I sure that I can call myself a Christian.

For me, this is where things become unclear. I still believe in God in the same way I did when I was growing up, however; I disagree with some of what I have been told is in the bible. Of course I cannot say what is in the bible and what isn't as I've refused to read the book. My reasons behind this choice are not the reasons why I am questioning my being a Christian. No, my reasons for questioning whether or not I am a Christian come from the fact that I don't believe there is any one chosen religion.

It is difficult for me to honestly sit there and say "God only wants Christians in Heaven". How can that be the case when God is supposed to be all loving? He loves everybody equally, no matter their background and up bringing. Of course he may not love their actions but I believe that is more on a "good person"\"bad person" type of deal and not what their religious beliefs happen to be. Yes, I believe an atheist can make it into heaven if they've lived their life as a good person. Caring for others as well as themselves. Showing compassion to humanity as a whole.

That isn't the only thing that differs between myself and your typical Christians beliefs. Does this mean I'm not a Christian anymore? Maybe I am a hybrid mixture of all the religions of the world; of course that would require me to do some looking and find out more about the various religions. But I believe that there should be peace, love and happiness for all as long as you live your life with compassion in your heart for those around you.

Rant Part II

In Part I of this rant, we discussed something that really bugged me a group of people known as "Douche Knuckles" (and various other things) and I really focused on one certain "Cock Jockey", Dino Douche, and what he had done that had really gotten to me. But there is another "Ass Hat" that has been bugging me lately... I won't even give him a nickname because he's that much of a "Cunt Muffin"... Zack (as he's known on his MSN) or Ricky (as we've been informed his real name), started off his friendship with me by pissing off one of my friends. She was friends with him first, anyway, she brought him into a conversation with myself and another friend and we talked. We were giving this kid a chance to redeem himself but nope... he wanted to be a cock munching, fucknugget. Hell, I even talked to him one on one and gave him tips on how he could fix shit with her but he continued on being a dumb fuck and took it a step further by trying to make me look bad.

His bad. Because now, he's made himself enemy #1 in my books. Whenever I get a chance, I am going to fuck with him and make sure that he gets pissed off. I won't even go all out on him like I would normal people, no, I'll take it easy on him which will slowly eat away at him and he won't know what's me being honest or what's a joke. I am going to break him down... slowly. I will make him regret ever being a dick to one of my besties. She doesn't deserve it, especially not from this cock jockey.

I know I said I had two things to rant about in the last blog, two completely unrelated topics is what I hinted at or at least that's what I intended but the other thing fixed itself so... no need to bitch about it now. :P

Rant Part I

I haven't posted a blog in a while - not that anybody even reads my blogs - but I decided that since I can't sleep. Might as well. Right imaginary reader? Thoughts so. Anyway, I have had a few things on my mind as of late so I'll probably talk about each of them individually (ie: seperate blogs). Starting with Douche Knuckles... also known as Dick Lick, Cock Jockey, Ass hat and any number of things... there is a point in time, in every body's life, where they are going to encounter once such person. It is unavoidable. Recently, I encountered one such person. Thankfully, this encounter happened over the Internet and I never saw the ass hat in person. But it is still something that has been bugging me.

Why? That's probably what you're asking right now. Why do you care what some cock jockey thinks? The answer is simple: I don't. I know that goes against the fact that it's been on my mind since the encounter happened but I honestly don't care what they think -- well, I mostly don't care what they think. Something they said, not to me directly, has been bugging me. It has been eating away at me. Why? Because what they said could actually be true. They could have hit the nail on the head and it bugs me. It also bugs me that in every encounter since said Douche Knuckle, who will from hence forth be known as Dino Douche, has treated me with silence. He doesn't even have the backbone to tell me to fuck off... he just sits there in his little shroud of silence.

Anyway on to the point... in encounter one, as it will be known from today onward, there were things that were said. Jokes that were made. All in good fun... stuff making light of serious topics but still, all in good fun. Thinking that everybody in the chat had a sense of humor I didn't censor myself saying "Will somebody get offended?" and honestly, I don't care if people are offended by me. It just shows they take everything too seriously. Now, as the chat continued on and on my friend - the connection between Dino Douche and myself - requests that I be as weird as I can. Just talk about whatever, no matter how weird. So, being the friend that I am... I do it. More jokes are made, and then my calling card of sorts... Jew jokes. Well, it really only took one Jew joke... (One Jew Joke to Rule Them All, if you will) and the guy went running. Complaining about myself and one other person to 'The Connection'.

'The Connection' relayed the complaints to me and we all laughed but slowly, one comment made its way into my brain where it has been festering for the last couple of days. I tried to play it off like it was nothing in a following encounter but to be honest. It bugs me... it bugs me almost as much as the silence from the guy does. He said that I have no respect for other people and that I just say whatever I want to try and get a cheap laugh, so it may not have been in those words exactly but I'm not retarded... despite some questioning from a few people. I know what he was getting at and it didn't work, he didn't get a light shined on him that made him look better. If anything, 'The Connection' dislikes him even more now... but I digress. Those words about me have been eating away at me and have actually affected how I see myself... I've felt as though I have been subconsciously censoring myself.

Whether this is actually what is happening or not, I cannot say for sure but that's the way I see it. Of course, those around me have a clearer picture as they're not as bugged as the words of the fuckbucket as I am. Not sure why it's hitting me this hard... like a bunch to the gut, or an elbow to the groin...

To Be Continued in Rant Part II

A little rant...

Why do people always feel the need to compare two people with one another? I just don't see the point in it. It doesn't accomplish anything and really doesn't need to be done. Every person is individual, whether they share similarities or not doesn't matter. Each person is their OWN PERSON. They may try to imitate another, but even then they are STILL THEIR OWN PERSON. On the outside they may not seem like it but inside they are entirely different.

Anyway... I am done ranting, too tired to continue.

Racism; it's no joke.

I know that this is a serious topic for a lot of people because they’ve dealt with it, or are currently dealing with it. Whether they are racist themselves (the dicks) or whether they are the target of a racist (the dicks). For me, however, racism is all about jokes. Not that I don’t think that racism is a serious thing because I do, however, I think the only way (other than having everybody in the world fuck somebody of another race until everybody is the same mixture of races) to beat racism is to laugh it off. Once you know how to take racism as a joke, it won’t have the same affect and it won’t be the person being racist the satisfaction to know they broke you down. Because that’s all they’re trying to do, they’re trying to hurt you to give them satisfaction so they feel better. If you laugh about it they can’t succeed (they can, however, suck seed).

Anyway, for the last three or four months – possibly even longer – racism has been one of the key factors in my humor. The jokes I make are making fun of racial stereotypes; such as the fact that Mexicans all stand out in front of Home Depot. Or that all black people love fried chicken and watermelon (I happen to know one that doesn’t, or at least he says so – I think he’s lying).

“Want to know how many Mexicans are in your town? Build a Home Depot. Build it and they will come.” – Jake Evans; nigga dats me!

Now, my sense of humor may not be the same as a lot of peoples but I know that at least my friends are on the same page as me. In more than one way… we make jokes about racial stereotypes, or just about racial shit in general. They make fun of me for being a redneck, cross burning, ghost wannabe – I live in Montana, so it’s kind of understandable to assume… just sayin’ – and I make fun of them for various things pertaining to their race. It’s all in good natured fun and none of us get offended, you know why? Because we can laugh about it; none of us are so uptight that we take everything that is said seriously.

Again, I know that not everybody jokes about racism and not everybody is joking when they say something that is racist. But if you can laugh about it – whether the person is being a genuine douchebag or is just kidding. You’ll feel a whole lot better about yourself, rather than feeling upset or affected by what they said. I’ve learned to use this method of laughing shit off for a lot of things (like looking at myself naked, it really helps – trust me).

To sum it all up, don’t be a soft skinned douche – learn to laugh it off. It’ll make you feel better. If you can learn to joke about racism, you can help be the cure for the disease known as racial intolerance. We can get rid of ignorance, one porch monkey joke at a time.

Black guys; please don’t shoot me.
Mexican guys; please don’t stab me.
And both of y’all, please don’t steal my bike.

Whitey out.

Be you and not somebody else...

I want to become famous – not for the money or anything like that. I want to become famous because people tend to listen to what celebrities have to say, whether they know what the fuck they are talking about or not. So, in essence, I want to become a celebrity for the simple fact that it’ll give me an audience that I can tell things to and they’ll take my opinion in and inhale it. They’ll make it a part of them. Then I can let down the masses and not just my family with things that I say, or things that I do.

Fer reals though, I want to have the audience of a famous person to get my point across. What point is that? That is a very good question random reader, which I totally believe to be non-existent. The point, the opinion, the thing that I want to get to across to a mass audience is that celebrities don’t know everything and in fact, their opinions matter just as much as yours. What I mean by this is that their opinions don’t matter, just because they’re famous doesn’t mean you should listen to what they have to say about anything.

Obviously, you can do whatever you want but you should be your own person. Come up with your own opinions, don’t adopt those of others just because they are famous and you are not. Of course, if you’re adopting the opinions of another you’re going to convince yourself that the opinion is yours and yours alone. If that is truly the case, and you came up with the opinion on your own and you just so happen to agree with somebody else. Good for you, you’re an individual – even if you have the same opinion as another.

But to take and adopt the opinion of somebody else, convincing yourself that isn’t what happened, is retarded. You look like a sheep, a follower, just waiting for somebody to come and herd you up with the rest of humanities insignificant wastes of space. Now, nobody is perfect, and everybody can fall victim to this issue… even I, from time to time, find myself agreeing with somebody on an issue that I know nothing about. I’ve adopted their opinion on it as my own – but when I catch myself doing that, I go out of my own to come up with my own opinion using facts as much as possible.

Anyway, it’s 3:30am and I couldn’t get to sleep because this was running through my mind… obviously, because I’m not famous, nobody is going to listen to what I have to say on this matter. Oh well... what can I do?

Dreams: Do they have meanings?

For the last few nights I’ve been having the same dream, well pretty much the same dream, except there is always one detail that is different. It’s a detail that seems to have a huge impact on me, waking me up at the same spot in the dream where the one little detail has changed. I’ve been trying to figure out if this dream has some meaning that isn’t obvious, or if it is just a manifestation of some fear deep inside of me. A fear that I don’t even know I have.

I’ve thought about it day in and day out for the last week, just trying to figure out what the meaning could be. That is, if there truly is a meaning to the dream – but all my searching has gotten me nothing. Thus, I am left wondering if there is a meaning and what it could be… but I’m also left with a bigger question because of all of this curiosity. Do dreams even have meanings? Or do people just buy into that because they want something to believe in. In a sense, my questioning of dreams and their meanings (or lack of) is the same as many peoples questioning of religion.

Is there really a God? Some people believe there is (I am one of those people), and some don’t – but back to the topic at hand, my dream. As I stated at the beginning of this blog, it is the same (except for one detail).

The dream starts out with me on a stage, at first the location seems pointless… but as the dream progresses a bit, things begin to make sense. I am standing up in front of a crowd with a microphone held in my hand. The crowd is laughing, well, some of the people in the crowd are laughing. It seems like everybody is having a good time and then… everything goes black. Everything except for me; I’m standing there surrounded by the pitch black abyss

I begin to wander around trying to locate a source of light. No luck. After a moment, I find myself standing in another room… it’s a small, poorly li, room. Looking around I find that I’m not alone, there are other people there. They’re all faceless, except for one…

That’s the detail that always changes. The thing that rattles me to the core and shakes me from my sleep, but it doesn’t happen right away.

Taking a step forward, I inch closer to the only other person with a face. My stomach is in knots, my breathing is heavy, my palms are sweaty… reaching up – I tap the person on their shoulder. Slowly, they turn to face me and I find, to my surprise, it’s one of my favorite comedians.

It’s always somebody different... for the sake of this blog; we’ll say that it’s Adam Sandler. As that has happened once before in the dream.

As soon as I recognize the person’s face, a smile spreads across mine. The fear that I had felt moments before was washed away by the excitement that I now felt. However, that would soon disappear too… the look in his eyes, and the way he shook his head showed he disapproved of me for some reason. Confused, I take a step back and that’s when the thing that wakes me up happens… “You’re not funny”.

Three simple words – three, little, insignificant words – have all the impact of a diesel truck. They just shake me to the core, and wake me from my sleep and I cannot get back to sleep for (most of the time) several hours. The image of one of my favorite comedians telling me I’m not funny burnt into my brain. After having had the dream every night for nearly a week or so, I’ve actually tried to avoid going to sleep. Staying up later than usual, even after I’ve told people I was going to bed. I’d just lay there in the dark, listening to music, thinking, trying to keep my brain active so I couldn’t fall asleep.

I don’t want to have that dream again. It’s an experience I don’t want to have while I’m awake, let alone while I’m sleeping. You’re supposed to life your dreams while you’re sleeping. You’re supposed to do things you can’t do in reality, while you’re sleeping. You’re not supposed to have your heart ripped out of your chest (figuratively) on a nightly basis – while sleeping. Anyway, the point of this blog was the question “do dreams have meanings?”...

If they do, what is the meaning of this dream? Why am I always being told that I’m not funny by one of my favorite comedians? Why isn’t it some random person that means nothing? These are questions I ask myself after each and every time I have the dream.

Well, this blog has gone on long enough – I think. So I’ll end it here…