This story begins as I was perusing my innumerable amount of National Geographics. So few things have truly caught my complete, honest, and sincere attention, and even fewer things have completely, honestly, and sincerely left me in such an incredulous awe, this sudden inspiration, a love for a woman i never knew.
What I saw was the background: cracked terrain and dying plants. Flora and Fauna alike laying in disintegration. In the foreground, she stood; her skin was dark, with nary a sight of aging. Her bones tiny and visible past her weak skin and withering muscles. In her strong hand, she carried a pot carrying water. Her dress, so contrast to all that surrounds her. Her vacant face only does so to accentuate her dress; so vibrant, so vivid
And to me, she was beautiful
All around her the terrain cracked from turmoil, plants dying like the inhabitants around them. Along with the disintegration with the flora and fauna was the degradation of the Morality and Majesty of the nation. Yet, through it all, stood this woman, unwavering and unfaltering. The weight of the water bears down on her, with all her might, she struggles to carry this small pot. She struggles so much, unknowing that she really is the strongest woman on Earth; though she sees herself as meerly carrying such a small weight, she carries her entire family. Her face is empty from the years of tiring, emotionless labour. Her face no longer shows sentiment, yet in its stead, a heightened understanding of duty, honor, loyalty. Her vacant face only does so to emphasize her dress, so bright and beautiful. Her, a beacon of light to a country so broken and bruised. Her, a definition to the terms unheard of: steadfast, resolute, and determined. Her, an example of true love, true hope, and true loyalty.
This picture i came across was in the APR 1993 edition. Sad to say, the chances that she is still alive are slim. This blog stands to honor her. To exist in a time of turmoil is true terror. But to rise above it, be a shining example, a beacon of light to those around you, is true heroism
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Ashlynn Noelle
Ashlyn Noelle
Just the sound of her name rings a perfect tune.
Smile so bright it could light up a room
I wish that things were the way they were
Because I know that I still love her
Her beauty comparable to that of the moon
Mind so bright it could silence a room
Voice: High-pitched; Her feet are clumsy
Someday, I hope that she will see me.
This is a story. A story untold. A story unwritten, about a life unknown.
Ashlyn Noelle was her name, first and middle. She was a blessing to the world, and all who knew her. Dark hair, mesmerizing blue eyes, and an attitude that could spark a revolution. Taller than her mom, yet smaller than her dad yet still wanted to fill his shoes.
I remembered the first time she looked at me. Such purity, such virtue that emanated from her bright blue eyes and created and air so thick that you could feel her innocence weight down against your skin; and as it slowly seeped in, you felt as though your body was cleansed and I knew in that instant that the wrongs I committed were suddenly right, because it didn't matter in the presence of this little girl with an objective view of life. I loved looking into her eyes and feeling the love as she silently stared back. Her eyes shone from her first day to even her first day of school, those eyes had that same air about them that would never go away. And her eyes, so pure and gentle, always spoke the truth.
I remember her first word, because it was a word so simple, in a world so complex. The love and compassion behind one word had no bounds. Unbelievable, Unthinkable, Indescribable, yet so Incredible. The passion in her voice had no half-life, no reason to be suppressed. With the same determination I remember, I heard her voice at the podium when she ran for class president. Sure, it may have just been middle school, but I knew by the way her voice carried that it would carry her far.
When she took her first steps, the whole world waited, watched, and worried, as if they were all - all six billion - ready to catch her. So divine was every step. So elegant, every stride. So graceful, was her smile as she traversed gently across the carpet. And in my heart I knew that this little girl had no intent to halt her dignified advance; no obstacle existed that we couldn't conquer. Nor was there a wall that she couldn't climb. Her tiny steps turned into a proud stroll, and that proud stroll became the prominent strides that won her first place for the hundred meter dash for her high school. And so joyous was she, jumping and screaming, yet beautiful and gracious. I remember that I could feel my heart beat every time she put her foot down in that race to take another stride.
I remember when she was so proud when she noticed that she was finally taller than her mom. I remember the day she first drove her car. I remember that the pressures of school never dragged her down. She was proud of who she was. It was evident in her stare, her speech, and her stride that was she was proud of what she became. I saw her the day that she left for college, and I saw that she, not only, could bear the weight of the whole world when it was down, but also pick it up watch it walk again; a reciprocal deed. And when it was too hurt to walk, I'm confident that she could carry and walk with it, maintaining her steady steps. I knew that she inevitably had the potential to change the world. And for that, I could have been so proud of her.
I love you Ashlyn. And I'm infinitely sorry for what I did. I know it cannot be changed, but I know if it could, I would reverse everything just to meet you. I would give up everything; all of it for you. I wish I could have been given another chance to be your dad.
This is a story. A story untold. A story unwritten, about a life unlived
Just the sound of her name rings a perfect tune.
Smile so bright it could light up a room
I wish that things were the way they were
Because I know that I still love her
Her beauty comparable to that of the moon
Mind so bright it could silence a room
Voice: High-pitched; Her feet are clumsy
Someday, I hope that she will see me.
This is a story. A story untold. A story unwritten, about a life unknown.
Ashlyn Noelle was her name, first and middle. She was a blessing to the world, and all who knew her. Dark hair, mesmerizing blue eyes, and an attitude that could spark a revolution. Taller than her mom, yet smaller than her dad yet still wanted to fill his shoes.
I remembered the first time she looked at me. Such purity, such virtue that emanated from her bright blue eyes and created and air so thick that you could feel her innocence weight down against your skin; and as it slowly seeped in, you felt as though your body was cleansed and I knew in that instant that the wrongs I committed were suddenly right, because it didn't matter in the presence of this little girl with an objective view of life. I loved looking into her eyes and feeling the love as she silently stared back. Her eyes shone from her first day to even her first day of school, those eyes had that same air about them that would never go away. And her eyes, so pure and gentle, always spoke the truth.
I remember her first word, because it was a word so simple, in a world so complex. The love and compassion behind one word had no bounds. Unbelievable, Unthinkable, Indescribable, yet so Incredible. The passion in her voice had no half-life, no reason to be suppressed. With the same determination I remember, I heard her voice at the podium when she ran for class president. Sure, it may have just been middle school, but I knew by the way her voice carried that it would carry her far.
When she took her first steps, the whole world waited, watched, and worried, as if they were all - all six billion - ready to catch her. So divine was every step. So elegant, every stride. So graceful, was her smile as she traversed gently across the carpet. And in my heart I knew that this little girl had no intent to halt her dignified advance; no obstacle existed that we couldn't conquer. Nor was there a wall that she couldn't climb. Her tiny steps turned into a proud stroll, and that proud stroll became the prominent strides that won her first place for the hundred meter dash for her high school. And so joyous was she, jumping and screaming, yet beautiful and gracious. I remember that I could feel my heart beat every time she put her foot down in that race to take another stride.
I remember when she was so proud when she noticed that she was finally taller than her mom. I remember the day she first drove her car. I remember that the pressures of school never dragged her down. She was proud of who she was. It was evident in her stare, her speech, and her stride that was she was proud of what she became. I saw her the day that she left for college, and I saw that she, not only, could bear the weight of the whole world when it was down, but also pick it up watch it walk again; a reciprocal deed. And when it was too hurt to walk, I'm confident that she could carry and walk with it, maintaining her steady steps. I knew that she inevitably had the potential to change the world. And for that, I could have been so proud of her.
I love you Ashlyn. And I'm infinitely sorry for what I did. I know it cannot be changed, but I know if it could, I would reverse everything just to meet you. I would give up everything; all of it for you. I wish I could have been given another chance to be your dad.
This is a story. A story untold. A story unwritten, about a life unlived
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Immortality
This is an inquiry of man's longing to be immortal.
It is often said that man's sole purpose is that we live to die. However, the manner in which i believe it should be viewed is that we die to live. If it weren't for death, what purpose would we have in life? There are so many different people, so many different events, that exist simultaneously in a single second that it is only sensible that each second should be taken advantage of. Death allows us to be alive. And not alive in the sense that we are functioning human beings, but that it sparks spontaneity and adventure in our lives. Death allows us to break through the tedium of our circadian routines. We can finally be free.
But with a physically immortality, there is enough life to experience all that this world has to offer. However, what if you were able to be immortalized in a way that didn't serve your own purpose, but for others. Isn't that an immortality we can strive for? There are immortals that live today just like that. Even though we know that they passed away, what did they leave behind? How were they immortalized? What can death do to us in a way that we can achieve immortality? It can fuel us, propel us, and challenge us to do better each and every day. It can give us the energy every morning to make a change in the world. It can give us the tools to do anything we want, if we so choose. Living life to its fullest is a reckless way to live; albeit enjoyable, it only does so to serve your own desires. But everyday we talk about chance, especially with the upcoming election, but really what are we doing - except for voting - that can create a change?
Now, not everyone can change the world so drastically that they deserve global praise, but we can all immortalize ourselves on a even more local scale. We can save a person's life and immortalize yourself in stories told, or even be the shining example that some people wish to see. I challenge you, the reader, to spark a revolution, excel in everything you do, break free of routine. No matter how small it your efforts may be; make a change, benefit our society, break free from the monotony, challege structure, and immortalize yourselves.
This is a tribute to the immortals that reign superior to me:
Sir Isaac Newton, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, Albert Einstein, Niels Bohr, Carl Jung, Aristotle, Socrates, Plato, Rembrandt van Rijn, Johann Sebastian Bach, and any others i may have forgotten. I can't wait to join you in the ranks.
If I have seen further, it is by standing on ye shoulders of Giants
-Sir Isaac Newton
It is often said that man's sole purpose is that we live to die. However, the manner in which i believe it should be viewed is that we die to live. If it weren't for death, what purpose would we have in life? There are so many different people, so many different events, that exist simultaneously in a single second that it is only sensible that each second should be taken advantage of. Death allows us to be alive. And not alive in the sense that we are functioning human beings, but that it sparks spontaneity and adventure in our lives. Death allows us to break through the tedium of our circadian routines. We can finally be free.
But with a physically immortality, there is enough life to experience all that this world has to offer. However, what if you were able to be immortalized in a way that didn't serve your own purpose, but for others. Isn't that an immortality we can strive for? There are immortals that live today just like that. Even though we know that they passed away, what did they leave behind? How were they immortalized? What can death do to us in a way that we can achieve immortality? It can fuel us, propel us, and challenge us to do better each and every day. It can give us the energy every morning to make a change in the world. It can give us the tools to do anything we want, if we so choose. Living life to its fullest is a reckless way to live; albeit enjoyable, it only does so to serve your own desires. But everyday we talk about chance, especially with the upcoming election, but really what are we doing - except for voting - that can create a change?
Now, not everyone can change the world so drastically that they deserve global praise, but we can all immortalize ourselves on a even more local scale. We can save a person's life and immortalize yourself in stories told, or even be the shining example that some people wish to see. I challenge you, the reader, to spark a revolution, excel in everything you do, break free of routine. No matter how small it your efforts may be; make a change, benefit our society, break free from the monotony, challege structure, and immortalize yourselves.
This is a tribute to the immortals that reign superior to me:
Sir Isaac Newton, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, Albert Einstein, Niels Bohr, Carl Jung, Aristotle, Socrates, Plato, Rembrandt van Rijn, Johann Sebastian Bach, and any others i may have forgotten. I can't wait to join you in the ranks.
If I have seen further, it is by standing on ye shoulders of Giants
-Sir Isaac Newton
Monday, April 7, 2008
War on the World
i pretty much just read Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried in one night. the ending’s really eye opening; i won’t spoil it for you. but the sheer thought that something so life changing can happen even at such a young age, can never prepare you for the horrors caused by terror and injustice.
But how can you define injustice? What grounds do you have to judge if someone is unjust?
Yasser Arafat, someone who is widely acclaimed as a terrorist, a radical, and anti-semite, was quoted saying that, "Whoever stands by a just cause cannot possibly be called a terrorist." simply stating that from his own viewpoint, he is fighting his just cause, and he cannot possibly be a terrorist.
Relating back to the book, the lines between the just and unjust in the Vietnam war becomes exceedingly blurred. How can you say that the Americans were the just? nor can you boldly claim that the VietCong were the more ethical group. True, American soldiers killed boy soldiers, but their job comes with a certain paranoia, where discernment between friend and foe is skewed. A simple farmer by day can be Charlie by night. yet, the Vietnamese forced their children to fight, saying that if they didn’t, they bring dishonor to themselves, their family and their village. Therefore we are just and they are just, both with our own honor. However, these are the soldiers. This is who they are. They are the pure and moral ones in this war.
Recently my brother showed me this song called Handlebars by Flobots. it’s a song about how one man can really do anything he can, and how he can lose control doing so. but it starts out small. he says that "I can ride my bike with no handlebars" which is hard for a child. and once you do that [as a kid] you feel like you’re unstoppable, you feel like you can do anything. however, the song progresses, gradually becoming more and more mature, and saying that he can "lead a nation with a microphone" until it gets more and more extreme, betraying mankind, saying that he can make anyone go to prison, just because he doesn’t like them. and finally it leads to the fact that, once you can really do anything, "I can lead a planet to a holocaust". this sad, slow progression of the corruption of power brings me to my next point.
If the soldiers, be it uniformed or boy soldiers, are the just cause is it safe to say that the officials in charge of our country are the unjust of the world? are they so obsessed with themselves as being in a position of power that any attack on their prominent well being is cause enough to send your troops out? Just like Herbert Hoover said, "Older men declare war. But it is the youth that must fight and die."
the "older men" mentioned are hardly even responsible for their actions. they have no part in the war except for the declaration of.
Like in the Serj Tankien video of Empty Walls, he relats the War on Terror to childs play. and that this seemingly small event, [mind you, i’m not trying to downplay 9/11. it was a tragic event, and i too was greatly affected] can turn into a political clusterfuck of sorts which ends up as a selfish endeavour of personal gain. this is how this argument branches from the War on Terror to the War in Iraq
Bush used 9/11 as an excuse to invade Iraq, even though the ones who attacked us were Afghani terrorists. and on the basis of finding Weapons of Mass Destruction, we invaded a country with no right, i believe. and although we didn’t find any WMD’s, we continued to root out Saddam Hussein’s control over the Iraqi people, shifting all blame - shifting all focus - from Osama bin Laden, unto a person who did do wrongs, but had no hand in the attack on our country. So what part does Hussein play? Where in any of the grand scheme of our wars do morals come into play? we certainly can’t blame the soldiers for doing their job.
So, through my arguments, is it safe to say that the officials in charge are the unjust?
No. They can’t be. The president is an American. we are Americans. there is no greater honor to me, than to be an American. and i’m sure that feeling is inherent in each one of us, and especially so in the president. Sure he may not be the brightest there was, but he shares a certain love for the country and a love for its people. yet, there are times where adversity comes along and challenges the very ideals this great country was based on, and our protection is key. by sending us to war, officials only look to protect the country they love. this alone is a just cause. the soldiers enlist to fight in order to protect their beloved country as well. again another just cause.
So am I saying that war is just?
No.
But how can war be unjust, though the ones that take part in it are moral and ethical people?
Everything’s circumstantial. we are constantly placed in situations of conflict. no one wants war, and no one needs war; however war is a fact of our time. Ralph Waldo Emerson argues that "The real and lasting victories are those of peace, and not of war." Whilst Thomas Jefferson argued that "The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants."
So who is righter?
Neither. it is true that the true meaning of victory is that of a long withheld era of peace, yet, the fact remains that the idea of war is prevelant today, and shows no signs of slowing down, and there comes times where our freedoms are at stake, and there are no options left than to fight for them.
So what is war?
To me, it’s honor. you have the chance to prove yourself as an honorable person. war gives you the ability to show yourself as a warrior, a protector of your country. to me, there is no greater honor that fighting valiantly for one’s country. Then again, i’ve read the Hagakure too many times, and i come from a long line of military-men, of which served in multiple wars.
So in the general scheme of it all, what is war?
Since it’s impossible to deny that it’s just.
Since it’s impossible to deny that it’s unjust
Since it’s impossible to tell the difference between good and evil
Since it’s impossible to know the outcome of a war
Since it’s impoosible to see whether or not it will be favorable
Since it’s impossible to know what horrors take place
Since it’s impossible to pin the blame on someone or some group
Since it’s impossible to call someone a terrorist or a demon
What is it really?
All it is. All it ever will be. is the confusing, distressing topic which draws even scholars crazy.
All War really is...
It’s Perspective..
But how can you define injustice? What grounds do you have to judge if someone is unjust?
Yasser Arafat, someone who is widely acclaimed as a terrorist, a radical, and anti-semite, was quoted saying that, "Whoever stands by a just cause cannot possibly be called a terrorist." simply stating that from his own viewpoint, he is fighting his just cause, and he cannot possibly be a terrorist.
Relating back to the book, the lines between the just and unjust in the Vietnam war becomes exceedingly blurred. How can you say that the Americans were the just? nor can you boldly claim that the VietCong were the more ethical group. True, American soldiers killed boy soldiers, but their job comes with a certain paranoia, where discernment between friend and foe is skewed. A simple farmer by day can be Charlie by night. yet, the Vietnamese forced their children to fight, saying that if they didn’t, they bring dishonor to themselves, their family and their village. Therefore we are just and they are just, both with our own honor. However, these are the soldiers. This is who they are. They are the pure and moral ones in this war.
Recently my brother showed me this song called Handlebars by Flobots. it’s a song about how one man can really do anything he can, and how he can lose control doing so. but it starts out small. he says that "I can ride my bike with no handlebars" which is hard for a child. and once you do that [as a kid] you feel like you’re unstoppable, you feel like you can do anything. however, the song progresses, gradually becoming more and more mature, and saying that he can "lead a nation with a microphone" until it gets more and more extreme, betraying mankind, saying that he can make anyone go to prison, just because he doesn’t like them. and finally it leads to the fact that, once you can really do anything, "I can lead a planet to a holocaust". this sad, slow progression of the corruption of power brings me to my next point.
If the soldiers, be it uniformed or boy soldiers, are the just cause is it safe to say that the officials in charge of our country are the unjust of the world? are they so obsessed with themselves as being in a position of power that any attack on their prominent well being is cause enough to send your troops out? Just like Herbert Hoover said, "Older men declare war. But it is the youth that must fight and die."
the "older men" mentioned are hardly even responsible for their actions. they have no part in the war except for the declaration of.
Like in the Serj Tankien video of Empty Walls, he relats the War on Terror to childs play. and that this seemingly small event, [mind you, i’m not trying to downplay 9/11. it was a tragic event, and i too was greatly affected] can turn into a political clusterfuck of sorts which ends up as a selfish endeavour of personal gain. this is how this argument branches from the War on Terror to the War in Iraq
Bush used 9/11 as an excuse to invade Iraq, even though the ones who attacked us were Afghani terrorists. and on the basis of finding Weapons of Mass Destruction, we invaded a country with no right, i believe. and although we didn’t find any WMD’s, we continued to root out Saddam Hussein’s control over the Iraqi people, shifting all blame - shifting all focus - from Osama bin Laden, unto a person who did do wrongs, but had no hand in the attack on our country. So what part does Hussein play? Where in any of the grand scheme of our wars do morals come into play? we certainly can’t blame the soldiers for doing their job.
So, through my arguments, is it safe to say that the officials in charge are the unjust?
No. They can’t be. The president is an American. we are Americans. there is no greater honor to me, than to be an American. and i’m sure that feeling is inherent in each one of us, and especially so in the president. Sure he may not be the brightest there was, but he shares a certain love for the country and a love for its people. yet, there are times where adversity comes along and challenges the very ideals this great country was based on, and our protection is key. by sending us to war, officials only look to protect the country they love. this alone is a just cause. the soldiers enlist to fight in order to protect their beloved country as well. again another just cause.
So am I saying that war is just?
No.
But how can war be unjust, though the ones that take part in it are moral and ethical people?
Everything’s circumstantial. we are constantly placed in situations of conflict. no one wants war, and no one needs war; however war is a fact of our time. Ralph Waldo Emerson argues that "The real and lasting victories are those of peace, and not of war." Whilst Thomas Jefferson argued that "The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants."
So who is righter?
Neither. it is true that the true meaning of victory is that of a long withheld era of peace, yet, the fact remains that the idea of war is prevelant today, and shows no signs of slowing down, and there comes times where our freedoms are at stake, and there are no options left than to fight for them.
So what is war?
To me, it’s honor. you have the chance to prove yourself as an honorable person. war gives you the ability to show yourself as a warrior, a protector of your country. to me, there is no greater honor that fighting valiantly for one’s country. Then again, i’ve read the Hagakure too many times, and i come from a long line of military-men, of which served in multiple wars.
So in the general scheme of it all, what is war?
Since it’s impossible to deny that it’s just.
Since it’s impossible to deny that it’s unjust
Since it’s impossible to tell the difference between good and evil
Since it’s impossible to know the outcome of a war
Since it’s impoosible to see whether or not it will be favorable
Since it’s impossible to know what horrors take place
Since it’s impossible to pin the blame on someone or some group
Since it’s impossible to call someone a terrorist or a demon
What is it really?
All it is. All it ever will be. is the confusing, distressing topic which draws even scholars crazy.
All War really is...
It’s Perspective..
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