Funner

It may finally be in the dictionary, but it still has a bad rep. 
http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/funner

Now, at the risk of sounding stupid. Could someone please tell me why "Funner" has such a bad rep?!

"Funner" is a comparative, and comparatives work on adjectives, such as greater, sweeter, greener etc.

 The base word "fun" can be an adjective. Why doesn't it work?

And if "funner" gets jipped, how can we get away with turning an adjective into a verb with the word, "funned"?  As a language pirate, I'm all for it.

I just wish people could tell me if and why "Funner" is grammatically incorrect, and I hope someday, people will take it seriously.

I mean, what sounds better?
 "Life will be funner than a hamster on a wheel" or "Life will be more fun than a wet cat on log?"
If you choose the cat, you're weird. =)

When Love Reigns.

In every major catastrophe in my life the main word on my lips has been "thank you." In the darkest hour, there is always a reason to be thankful. And you know, the offspring of gratitude is joy.

For me, these last few weeks have been dark indeed. But have they? When bad things happen to good people, love reigns. Indeed, due to this reigning love, these days are quite bright.

Significance.

Significant. The word of the day. Find something significant in your life. A person, a moment, memory, amulet, ideal or dream. Something significant to you. Be thankful for it.

Language of America.

Look for the word.

The American Dream

When you picture the American Dream, what do you picture?  California shades and a Ferrari? Money? Mansion? Materials? A simple life out in the country with no worries?

If this is your picture, you’re wrong.

The Dream is not a constant. It’s a goal. It requires sweat. It requires tears. It requires blood. When things don’t work out, when you’re down and unhappy, remember, that is a good thing. It is in the pursuit, not the accomplishment, but the gory pursuit of our imagined dreams that they are made true. Water is stronger than rock. Change does not happen in an instant, but by the hammer's repeated fluid blows.

The American Dream is the freedom to pursue the life we imagine for ourselves.

Walt Disney imagined a world of magic. Losing everything in that pursuit, he hopped on a bus to Los Angeles, owning nothing but a cardboard box, a change of underwear, forty dollars and a side reel of cartoons. Martin Luther King had a Dream. His voice, his life, and death, played out in pursuit of that Dream and now, people of all races celebrate him, side by side.

The list of heroes is endless. All are willing to sacrifice everything for a notion, an idea, imagined life, a belief, a Dream.

But you don’t have to be a hero to pursue a Dream. From teachers to janitors. From lawyers and politicians to social workers and receptionists. From doctors to athletes. In today’s world many invent their own occupation, and many more occupations are yet realized. Even the stay at home Mother who believes her children will improve the world. There are many among us already engaged in the pursuit of the life we have imagined.  

And you know what? When we give our dreams our all, like Disney and King, we succeed…

I have learned this, at least, from my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the directions of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours. –Thoreau.

By this success, the pursuit of those dreams which promise global and local happiness will benefit the nation. Indeed, the most powerful action a US citizen can take, arguably even more powerful than a vote, is the act of this gory pursuit of a imagined, better world.

It is therefore our American obligation to pursue our imagined lives, to pursue our dreams.

 

So. What’s your dream?

Belieber.

I can't Belieber I'm saying this, but there is something about Bieber that encompasses the American philosophy. Perhaps its the importance of Beliebering.

What do you believe?

Next to love, belief is the most powerful weapon at mankind's disposal. Like any weapon it can be used for great evil, or great good. In Nolan's Batman, the Joker believed in chaos. Look at the chaos he unleashed. Never doubt the power of a single drop, because with death on one hand and life on the other, and the gun powder of belief, one drop can change the future of the ocean. Besides: 

"Isn't that what an ocean is made of? A multitude of drops?" -Cloud Atlas. 

ps: In the movie, Cloud Atlas, look for the word. Especially when adjacent to the word love.

Servitude

"Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country."

 All the best teachers know two things. Never do something for a kid when they could do it themselves and befriend the janitor.

Who has more power? The lady on the pedestal or the man who wraps her in gifts and service?

Give a man a fish and he'll be on your hook for life. Teach a man to fish and he'll catch you a whale. 

Never under estimate the power of servitude.

Its an oxymoronic counter cultural thought, but without servitude, there is no freedom.
A country for the people is created by a country built BY the people.

When money is the end goal, capitalism fails. When money is the means for the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness, capitalism succeeds.

When the political games and personal gains are the focus, Democracy fails. But when the needs of America lie in the heart of politicians, Democracy succeeds.

It is this way for all areas of American society. We are a country built BY the services of the people. 

Crayola Pain.

There is this lie that all pain is evil. However, pain is as colored as the rainbow.

One pain that is good is the pain of healing.  

Whether emotional or physical, it is that agonizing pain that makes you wince through your tears and shiver. Yet as you rock back and forth, mindlessly moaning, you can imagine the evil burning out of you. It is the pain that reminds you that you will soon be reforged... and that is something to laugh about.

Belief: Something to live For.

Look for the word in Battle Star Galactica, 

Miniseries. Season 1, episode 2  

"You have something to live for now, not just die for." 

-Helo, Battle Star Galactica, Season 2 episode 15 Scar.

Taste of Death

Don’t know that much of transcendentalism, but from my Highschool class I’ve been told it’s about how we’re all connected. Given enough imagination we can discern what it’s like to be a Roman citizen praying at an altar; a Japenese emperor tending his country.  

I’m moving in two weeks.  It’s given me a new perspective on death. What it’s like to settle my debts, to help my friends set up a life without me and to manufacture my last waking moments. And if we pretend that each act towards moving is the equivalent of one cough, one bleeding stomache, one tank of oxygen, than I can discern what it’s like to manufacture my last moments as my body begins to shut down. And you know what I’ve found…?

I’ve discovered a new awareness.  The details become vital, yet there’s no time for worry.  I’ve discovered that my relationships with people have dissolved into pure love.  From a taste of death, I’ve discovered I’ve never felt more alive…

But what is this fire, this power, this energy that burns through my veins? A passion. A drive.  An anticipation for the death to come. Ashes to ashes, and the Phoenix shall rise again. The answer is birth...

Strolling through the bookstore...

http://books.google.com/books/about/The_Believing_Brain.html?id=i_ihCeNpcaQC

Harvey Dent

Let's play find the word! Here's an easy one...

http://www.rlclaw.co.uk/advice/harvey-dent-fiction/

 Whether its a bat, a white knight, Gotham's salvation or simply the importance of believing in the goodness of people, Nolan's Batman saga is a story entirely driven by the importance of believing in a symbol, an idea.

Antidote

After reading my last post, someone asked me: How do you combat Writer's Block?
The good news: There's easy medication for it, and it tastes like strawberries!

1) Read a book.

I don’t mean read and forget the main character’s name. I mean analyze it, suck it dry. Criticize it as four men would standing around a poor man fixing a heater.

2) Read the world.

Read it as you would a good book.
Magic of the World

3) Read the soul.

Ninety nine percent of all story (even Thomas the Train) surrounds the human soul. Every great literary artist, Coelho, Shakespeare, Lawrence, Dickinson, all, in some form or another, obsessed with our humanity, our human soul.

4) Be fearless.

The most painful part of the writer’s block disease is that blank page shouting at you to write something awesome. Kick it and write.

5) When all is said and done, there should be so much bubbling in your heart that all you have to do is “Write the truest sentence you know.” (Hemmingway, a survivor of writer’s block).

Kerouac's rules to writing.

The Writer's Curse.

There's a little rumour about the writer’s curse: that it’s a disease called writer's block. It's a curse romanticized by the media, (and consequently writers) because of the irony, the tragedy, the intrigue, the emotion. It’s the equivalent of a pianist who has lost his hands.

The writer’s true curse however is that he has too much to say.  He messes with periods, font sizes and line breaks not to reach the minimum but to fit the maximum requirement. 

The real curse is sifting through months of favored BS to buy the thirty seconds the reader has to give.  

Belief.

"We humans hope when there is no hope. We believe when believing is idiotic. And sometimes, in spite of everything, we prevail." -Andromeda, Wrath of the Titans. Epic movie.

 uploaded from wikipedia.

I don't know about other places but, belief is an underlying theme in American culture. Everywhere you look, someone, somewhere, somehow is preaching it. Just look around and listen for that word... 

Breakfast with the Cooks.

            One sunny morning at the Cook's residence…

“Don’t just sit there. You’re turtling up in that puny shell again. You always do that, leave all of our relationship problems on that stupid table, unspoken, untouched, unresolved,” said Emilia Cook.

“What’s wrong with that?” said Roger Cook, putting his red flip flops on her table, leaning back in his chair and popping a cheerio in his mouth. He wore a wife beater and plaid pajama pants. “By the way, we need milk.”

“Because they’ll never go away, we’ll never be happy, and they’ll come right back to eat us. Besides, it’s like stopping the movie right in the middle. It’s annoying.”

“You’re still upset about that aren’t you? It was just a movie. Anyway, who cares about the ending? I mean who even cares about the problems? I like you angry.”

“Ughh," she dug her nails into her hair. She slammed her hands to her side. She dug her nails into her palms. Then, while continuing to pace around in her bunny slippers, jabbing her finger at him, she said: "You know what? You’re a coward, that's what you are. You just don’t want to face the fact that we have problems here. You’re too chicken to deal with them. All you want is what's happening right in front of you.”

“Sticks and stones love,” quoted Roger. Crunch went a Cheerio.

“Look it! You’re dropping cheerios all over my carpet! The maid just cleaned! What about the party!! What're are the Johnsons gonna say when their little baby starts eating cheerios off the floor? Yippee!! Free floor infested breakfeast? What? Stop staring at me like that!! It's your fault. Do this, do that, Stop it, Stop that. clean this, clean that. I'm always the bad guy around here. What am I!? The broken doll of Stalin?! The broken record!? Just listen every now and then. Is that so much to ask?!! A broken record, I tell you. Uggh This all sounds so frequin' cliche!! I can't take it!!"
"One minute, 47 seconds. Getting better," he said, looking up from his watch. 
 "Stop it!!! I'm tired of all your...your..your... Uggh!!”

“I’m surprised you haven’t left yet,” said Roger, smiling.

“It’s my house!!!!” said Emila. She stormed off, tripped over her bunny slippers, and caught herself on the door handle. There she stood up and paused. With her back to him, her body settled into place as she put a hand over her mouth, breathing, thinking.
"You know you're terrible at being angry. Needs more cussing." Crunch. Roger leaned forward and really got into it with big hand gestures. "And you're supposed to storm out.You know leave me in peace? Storming out should be more of like a really fast brisk walk, like your trying to get somewhere besides the floor. All the way out, like you're walking down a catwalk. And slam the door real hard. As hard you can. Just like that. Come on, your turn. Try it. You've got this. Just like you ran over that cute little squirrel, remember? What did you name him?" He couldn't help hiding his smile now.
Long after he finished, she stood still and thought, fighting back tears. Then a smirk crept up from beneath her ring laden fingers. She turned back and said, “I’ll call your Mother.”

“Sure go ahead.”

She smiled, noticing how the cheerios paused for a moment, before he plopped them in his mouth,

“You know. The reason it’s annoying when you stop in the middle of a movie is that you never see the results. But you probably don’t care about whats gonna happen do you?”

            “You and your movie metaphors.” he said. Crunch. She smiled. She turned and left the room, muttering to herself, "Perhaps you do care...You know. By talking about this script we're creating for ourselves, I'm making it really meta arn't I. Or am I making things up again?"  

             She picked up the lime colored landline.

             Ring. Ring. 

"Hi. Mrs. Cook? Yes. No. Yes. Hey um...Yeah, it was really great. Listen. No. That's tonight. Hey, um...Yeah, I'm excited about it too. No, we're not ready yet. Almost though. Hey listen, I'm calling about Roger..."

The Unknown.

Every time we step into the starless sky of the unknown we are forced to define ourselves, our reality. That definition, that belief is the water that turns sand into stone, building a wall against the oncoming storms of life.

A New Nucleus

Facebook, Twitter,  HarryPotter, Recess, The Last Airbender, The Office, Big Bang, How I met your Mother, Friends. The mirror of the media shows us for who we really are. Forget the 1950’s familial nucleus, our generation has found something better. I mean why fight for something as hard as a family when all you have to do is pick up the phone? Forget “True Love.” It’s fleeting, it’s hard, it’s painful, and it sucks. But friendship. Now friendship is easy. Just hook in, press the speed dial, twitter up. Besides: what better way to enjoy this ever changing globe flattening, diverse information flux, then with a friend by our side?

That’s not to say we don’t want true love. Deep inside, everyone in our generation seeks “true love” in some form or another, but it seems superfluous in light of the falling sky. It becomes a luxury when everyone is going in dizzying directions. Not even marriage can bind us together anymore and at the end of every break up there is always the impossible wish of “Let’s just be friends.” Then we go home to where another friend waits with a bucket of ice cream.

Friendship: the perfect system for a single parent home. We can live our own lives, and come home and visit the local, bar, library, coffee ship, and just chill. With friends we can go save the world on our own, or even better, do it together. We can cross nations and do all manner of marvelous things and we’ll always have someone there to share it with.  They are there when we fight, when we love, when we cry, when we laugh, when we die. Forget family, the nucleus of our generation is friendship.

Know Thyself

It’s some sort of illusion that we are a piece that fits into the puzzle of this world. The illusion that we are a purpose, a destiny, a job, a cog that makes this world run. It is the delusion of an individual soul that is the glue that holds our humanity together. Without it we are water, wind, flowing into nothingness, like an actress with an ever changing face with no sense of self. Build our castle on rock, on belief, and not on sand. Define yourself, know yourself, and the stars themselves could not break your walls. Whether its an immortal guardian or eternal lover, you are the name you give yourself. That name may change several times throughout the course of one’s life, but the pros of discovering that name is worth the lifelong search.