Andy Weir

You ever read that short story, "The Egg?" It's a pretty popular short story on the internet. Guy dies, finds out that he's living every life, and his little universe is just an egg? It seems to have been written solely for the passage:

“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.

“And you’re the millions he killed.”

“I’m Jesus?”

“And you’re everyone who followed him.”

And I mean, okay, I get it. Really, I do. Give everyone some perspective, man.

But you know what that also could have read?

"I'm Hitler?" You said, appalled.

"And you're the millions he killed."

"But I was still me?"

"Yes, and your wife."

"That I had sex with."

"Yes, you've been everyone you've ever had sex with. And you've been your father, so also you had sex with your mother, technically. Lots of sex. All of it."

Try taking that story as a profound meditation on the truth of being good to one another now. Can't, can ya? I ruined it.

And I'm okay with that. It's neat, but always sounded a bit pretentious. But now I feel bad.

Because Andy Weir wrote "The Martian!" That was a good book! Hilarious and crude, not serious and preachy. And in my opinion it had just as much philosophy. Have a sense of humor about the possibility of your own death, and always keep moving, to win.

Poems XIX

Did you know I'm dating my future wife? Cuz that's cool.

My Ocean

If I were the ocean and you were a boat,
It wouldn't matter if you went when I stayed put.

The ocean envelops the land, like ceaseless kisses the waves smack,
And my love encircles all of you and I'll never want it back.
It would be dishonest for me to say that I knew that this would happen,
That somewhere deep within my heart there'd be a bubbling to rival the Kraken.

I sound the trumpets every day as I await your return
My passion aches, I languish, curse, and still it only burns
Brighter, darker in its hues, I wish to torch the hurdles
No circumstantial Scyllan fates could ever claim to be hurtful
For I am stronger, safe in you, secure and wrathful, righteous,
I win the day, I seize the prize, I have what I need- us.

Call me El Niño, my temperatures rise when I see you,
But I'm no boy, in you a man, with loving eyes of blue,
You can sail the years away, at home's the ocean true.

Poems XVIII

Ancient Plants

There's a little beam of sunlight in the conservatory,
It speckles and glimmers in turn,
Illuminates that ennobled, ancient leaf,
Once megaflora, now known as the fern.

They've moved this fern to the New World and to Oz,
They've transplanted this plant to Japan,
But her chlorophyll grows greenest, replenished, and strong,
When her roots sink in to her homeland.

The fern has a noble (pre)history,
Grandiose and loved in the era of dinos,
But now she sits in a sterile glass room,
And her dreams intertwine with her woes.

But low scents still draw the butterflies,
Landing as happy strangers and not out of pity,
Fear not for the fate of the fair-fringed frond,
The same sun shines in conservatory, country, or city.

When I was a child in Larkspur's canyon,
The ferns would pop vibrantly after the rain.
Cold tears from the sky rolled off verdant faces,
The sacrosanct beauty seen only in pain.

There's a little beam of sunlight in the conservatory.
Warm, warm, warm-
The fern.

Poems XVII

Arctic Sun:

You put yourself low in the sky, and yet You
Warm all the small things, and warm me too.

You have no need to scatter shadows
Or make the snowdrifts melt,
Your beauty brings out their latent hues,
In brightened souls Your work is felt.

Without the Sun there is no lichen,
No lichen, no caribou,
The wolf needs meat and I need meat,
the cycle worships You.

The darkest days, when You're not here,
Feel as if they last all year,
But long winters lead to longest summers,
Bathed in light when you are near.

Fuck Thoreau- A Guest Author, This Time

http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2015/10/19/pond-scum

"The hypocrisy is not that Thoreau aspired to solitude and self-sufficiency but kept going home for cookies and company. That's just the gap between aspiration and execution, plus the variability in our needs and moods from one moment to the next- eminently human experiences, which, had Thoreau engaged with them, would have made for a far more interesting and useful book. The hypocrisy is that Thoreau lived a complicated life but pretended to live a simple one. Worse, he preached at others to live as he did not, while berating them for their own compromises and complexities."

I love that Kathryn Schulz called the piece "Pond Scum."

Pizza and a Seal

"What I really learned from being a Navy SEAL," he said, "was to be humble, and confidence."

Uh-huh, I thought. Which is why you just showed me a video of you jumping out of airplane. Why you prefaced the comment on your humility with "I didn't just learn to kill people, or to make kill shots with sniper rifles from miles away." You said and did these things because you're obviously humble. You're so incredibly confident that the only reason we're having this conversation is because you wanted to act macho when I started talking to your girlfriend.

I could have said those things out loud. When you pretend to be a Navy SEAL, though, you might just fight a man ten years younger than you for daring to illuminate the truth. And though reality is on my side, an impervious head and fighting reflexes are not. So I kept my mouth shut and instead tried a different tactic: Sycophancy.

"Dope. I'm gonna go eat that pizza."

Ah, the pizza. The reason I went over to his girlfriend and her friend in the first place. That Domino's crust had wafted into my nostrils from across the bar, and I had nothing to lose. I waltzed over there and my wish was granted: a steamy slice. Veggie, but whatever. I paid nothing. I almost thought I might pay with my face- a Navy SEAL boyfriend? This could get ugly.

Not with this guy. I doubted his credentials when he was my height but not noticeably athletic in any way. He came in so hot to talk to me when he noticed me saddle up to the ladies. I noticed that and immediately played friendly, over-the-top in my obsequiousness, and smoothed over the situation. When you're smart, play oblivious. Strangers don't know you're not really dumb. Simpletons gain leeway.

That leeway worked its way into more pizza. I called Jason over to Gary and me, when the women were gone, and said we each wanted another slice. Well, Gary had never had one to begin with and I don't think he truly wanted one, but I wanted two. Channa called Gary up to sing. Leaving me to be asked by Navy Sea Lion, "Who's Gary?"

"Uh, that's Gary."

"Yeah, but who's Gary?"

"He's that guy? Who you just met, Gary?"

"I mean, I've killed people." Ok, sure dude, really relevant to the conversation. "Who is Gary? What's he do, where's he from?"

"Well, he crushes it at karaoke." That's as far as I got. Mr. SEAL got fed up with my inability to put two and two together, I guess, and just let me have the whole box of pizza. Straight up.

Then he showed me the video of him jumping out of a plane, real Smoking Gun evidence of his war record, and we wind up at the beginning of the story. A small, aggressive man. And a smaller, more aggressive but only in the pursuit of pizza, me. What a strange night.

"The separation of the races is not a disease of the colored people, but a disease of the white people." -Albert Einstein