Thursday, March 24, 2011

One of my Hobbies...

...Is re-doing classic, well-known writings in a sarcastic way, with some random purpose.

For example, last semester one of my writing assignments was to write a poem about how I wouldn't get mad at my teacher when I procrastinated my research paper and got a bad grade. I based it off of Samuel Taylor Coleridge's "Kubla Khan." Amazing poem. Amazing re-poem.

    In BYU did Jason Ray
    A painful research paper write
    Where creeps and crawlies hither ran
    To scare the fool and frighten man
    Down to a sunless sea.

    So twice five weeks of unused time
    (And this poem doesn't really rhyme)
    And there were parties bright with flashing lights
    That oh, I atend'd 'stead of good writing free
    And here's a promise unbreakable and bright
    Ne'er worry, I will not blame thee.  

Isn't that just special? 
Last week, one of my roommates put up a list above the dishwasher titled "Last one to to everybody's dishes." I think the point is to make people feel social pressure to do the dishes so they can put their name on the list... The only problem is, I wash all of my own dishes immediately after I dirty them (thank you Mahon for that wonderful idea) and I don't have enough time to be washing everyone else's silverware.
So I wrote this.

In A RANDOM CLASSROOM, March 24, 1776. I mean, 2011.

The unanimous declaration of... one guy. 

When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve responsibility for a mutually shared chore and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of Roommate-hood and their Resident Advisor entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self evident, that all roommates are created equal, and that they are endowed by their Resident Advisor with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are reasonable quiet hours, a moderate level of cleanliness, and the pursuit of attractive women. --That to secure these rights, roommates agree to share certain chores, according to their mutual consent, --that whenever any chore becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the Roommate to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Chores, laying their foundations on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their date-ability and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Chores should not be changed for light and transient causes. But when a long train of dirty sinks and unclean dishes, many of them not the possession of the roommate pressured to wash said dishes, attempts to force upon them responsibility for dishes not their own, it is the right, it is the duty, to throw of such Chores, and to provide new Chores for future cleanliness. To prove this, let facts be submitted to the candid world.

He (meaning people that aren't me) has expected us to wash his dishes.

He has not reciprocated by doing my dishes (because I always wash my own dishes...)

He has... yeah, that's pretty much it.

We, therefore, the Roommate(s) of the 76th room of Maeser Hall, in a Random Classroom, assembled, appealing to the Resident Advisor of the hall for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by the Authority of the good Roommates of these Rooms, solemnly publish and declare, that these Roommates are, and of Right out to be, Free and Independent chore-doers, that they ought to be Absolved from all Responsibility for Other People's Dishes, and that they should have responsibility for their own dishes. --And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Resident Advisors, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor. But not our dishes.  

J. Ray

I believe passive-aggressive rewriting of historically important documents just might be the best use of my writing skills up to this point. Don't you just get warm fuzzies inside when you read that? 

Friday, March 18, 2011

It runs in my family! At least I think it does...

Short term memory loss. Not really, except when it comes to blogging. 

When I am ridiculously busy, when I have absolutely no time for blogging, I can think of at least three excellent post ideas to a surprising amount of detail and development.

When I actually have 30 minutes free before class starts, my mind goes blank and I end up on Facebook. 

Maybe I should start writing things down? Yes, it takes away an element of spontaneity, but it adds an element of... umm... everything else. 

Friday, March 4, 2011

Heaven, pt. 2

I just realized that my "How Far is Heaven?" post is completely lacking a vital point.

Let me lead into this.

I just saw Tangled for the second time. Wonderful, lovely movie--it leaves me with warm fuzzies for hours afterward. Though the entire movie is incredible, I particularly like one scene.

Well, two. The second is towards the end, the moment before the lost princess is reunited with her family. The feeling of anticipation... it makes me think about what it will be like when I am reunited with the mom and dad that I have been separated from.

Anyway, my first favorite part is right after the protagonists go into the city. Somebody is playing the fiddle on a street corner. The princess starts dancing, twirling around, pulling other people out into the street; soon there are dozens of people dancing, laughing, as the violin plays and the night falls. There is a feeling of breathless excitement, like a cross between a thunderstorm and a bluebird flying.

Heaven is going to be like this. We'll walk along, smiling at each other and eating strawberries, and then someone will start playing the fiddle. Someone else will start to dance. Others will join in; I will be with them, of course, clapping my hands in time, bowing and twirling and weaving a heavenly melody of motion.

Man, I can't wait! C. S. Lewis talks about that feeling you get where everything around you just doesn't seem right, like a part of you can tell this isn't really your world. I think I've started understanding what he means--this world is not where I belong. I'm just hanging out here until my real life starts.

Oh, Facebook...

Sometimes Facebook is irritating. Like when it drags me back four times during a day even though nothing is going on.

Sometimes Facebook is hilarious. Like yesterday and today.

Here, recorded for all you non-facebookers and for posterity, is yesterday's status. 

I think all of Facebook just happened. Right there.