I hereby dedicate this post to the ToSSB, an internet message board where I've met some inspirational people, and some not inspirational people. Overall, it's just a nice place to come back to.
It's a nice community. We talk about problems, ask for advice, talk about music, life, videogames, poetry, whatever. The members are... interesting. Without a doubt. Some of them stand out above the others in my book, others just... stand in the way.
Probably 111 is an inside joke made by one member who actually was one of the first to start reading my blog. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if the majority of my blog readers came from the ToSSB.
I'd like to especially thank Tigeris, gorillatron, and twilightangel0. Why them? Well... because I say so. And to any other ToSSB members who might stumble across this place... you know they deserve it.
That said, you're all great (albiet annoying at times) and it's been fun knowing you. Without you, I'm not sure there would be a blog.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Monday, April 23, 2007
The Dominists - Join the Ranks
I saw them the other day. The Dominists. They weren't at all what I was expecting. The way the news made them seem was - I don't know - barbaric in some way. How much farther from the truth could it be?
How many times must I be shown before I stop believing their nonsense? Their lies? And how much worse that of a motive they have none? I'm referring, of course, to the media - that mechanized monster of society which destroys more than unites, hates more than loves, confuses more than... more than anything!
These Dominists were no more rabble-rousers than the men and women who sit in congress. They were poets, thinkers. They were realists with an intent to act. Idealists who knew when to clip the string. They represented hope itself, life and love. They were alive. And for that I respect them.
The Dominists had a hall that they rented weekly. Well, not so much a hall as a meeting room. I'd say there were maybe twenty, twenty-five people there. And not all of one age either, as I had expected. Movements like these generally tended to absorb those of similar culture and experience. But the Dominists, it seemed, were different.
Maybe that's when I first started realizing that they had something right. Something fundamental, basic, down to the earth reality.
The first night I showed up, I snuck in quietly and stood in the back. Looking for a familiar face in an arena where there was none. The members - if they could indeed be called thus - milled around for some time, talking about one thing or another. Science, religion, philosophy, writing. It seemed that anything was up for debate, as long as the arguments on either side were presented clearly and with purpose. Though argument might be the wrong word. There was a bond there. An underlying brotherhood of ideology.
As time dragged on (though it was mere minutes) I began to notice that there was no leader among these men. Each man was himself a leader in one way or another. I was puzzled by this seeming lack of organization, but just as I began to accept and understand the structure, a man stepped forward. The room got deathly quiet. All eyes were turned on him. He stood before us not in splendor, but in common unity. His dress gave no indication that he was the head figure, unlike many meetings of this caliber. In addition, there were no minutes, no positions, no administrators. Just him, and us.
He spoke for a time, and others as well. And I realized that I was one of them. Without doing anything but listening, I had somehow joined the ranks.
Because in them was awakened my own ability to lead. And I've half a mind to do so. Do you?
How many times must I be shown before I stop believing their nonsense? Their lies? And how much worse that of a motive they have none? I'm referring, of course, to the media - that mechanized monster of society which destroys more than unites, hates more than loves, confuses more than... more than anything!
These Dominists were no more rabble-rousers than the men and women who sit in congress. They were poets, thinkers. They were realists with an intent to act. Idealists who knew when to clip the string. They represented hope itself, life and love. They were alive. And for that I respect them.
The Dominists had a hall that they rented weekly. Well, not so much a hall as a meeting room. I'd say there were maybe twenty, twenty-five people there. And not all of one age either, as I had expected. Movements like these generally tended to absorb those of similar culture and experience. But the Dominists, it seemed, were different.
Maybe that's when I first started realizing that they had something right. Something fundamental, basic, down to the earth reality.
The first night I showed up, I snuck in quietly and stood in the back. Looking for a familiar face in an arena where there was none. The members - if they could indeed be called thus - milled around for some time, talking about one thing or another. Science, religion, philosophy, writing. It seemed that anything was up for debate, as long as the arguments on either side were presented clearly and with purpose. Though argument might be the wrong word. There was a bond there. An underlying brotherhood of ideology.
As time dragged on (though it was mere minutes) I began to notice that there was no leader among these men. Each man was himself a leader in one way or another. I was puzzled by this seeming lack of organization, but just as I began to accept and understand the structure, a man stepped forward. The room got deathly quiet. All eyes were turned on him. He stood before us not in splendor, but in common unity. His dress gave no indication that he was the head figure, unlike many meetings of this caliber. In addition, there were no minutes, no positions, no administrators. Just him, and us.
He spoke for a time, and others as well. And I realized that I was one of them. Without doing anything but listening, I had somehow joined the ranks.
Because in them was awakened my own ability to lead. And I've half a mind to do so. Do you?
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