short trip

Unable to focus on my book report, I was hit by a small particle of inspiration. It turned into a short story about a guy who gets his head cut off and thinks about it.

The crowd jeered and taunted as a dejected looking fellow was marched up to a platform by an intimidating figure wearing a black mask. Towards the front of the platform was a basket. Directly behind the basket was the guillotine; the one way door to eternity that had seen the end of many lives, innocent and guilty alike. Incidentally, its next victim was, in fact, guilty. He understood perfectly well the possible consequences of his actions before he took them. This did nothing, however, to keep his mind off the fact that he was about to die a gruesome death in front of thousands of people who hated him.
The executioner slowly lowered his head to the cutting block, and locked him into place. the crowds taunts became louder and some of them began to hurl fresh produce at the condemned man. Were he not about to die, he may have appreciated the irony that these fools were throwing away the very thing that they begged for everyday. The executioner stepped back, pulled a lever, and with a sickening thud, the man's head dropped into the basket.
'Strange,' thought the man, 'That wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Hardly felt a thing. A quick snap and it's off with my head. Or is it off with my body, I wonder? I'm sure that the rest of me must be more confused than I am, not knowing what my brain wants it to do, and all. And yet, without my body, I can't very well get anything done, myself. Which part is missing which? Perhaps--'
At that point, the oxygen in his brain expired, rendering him incapable of thought, incoherent or otherwise.

Sticking it to the Man

In an odd conversation with some random old guy about my bathrobe, I came to the realization that authority and leadership are completely different things, and that authority truely exists to be challenged. If no one challenged authority, it need not exist.

Authority is somewhat of a place holder for leadership. If you don't have certain leadership skills, you are given authority to make up for it. If one were a perfect leader, authority would not be necessary, because one would be compelled to follow or respect that leader. The best leaders do not actually make you do anything, they make you want to do things. A good leader will clarify situations that require leadership in such a way that the leader's desired action is the same as the desired action of those being lead. This can be construed as manipulation, but it does not require the leader to have any level of authority bestowed upon him or her by an outside power.

An authority figure will dictate what must be done in the situation. The reasons why this must be done are irrelevant, for the figure of authority has been granted power by some real or percieved source. At the same time, those subordinate must have the power to challenge the authority for the authority to have purpose. Without the power of authority, those subordinate to the person who holds it would have no reason to obey. And yet, without the possibility of insubordination, the power of authority is pointless. Power over something unable to challenge is not power at all; one might as well boast of one's ability to turn a machine on and off. Authority does not exist for those who would submit to it, but for those who would challenge it.

More on this later, as I develop my point.

I've lost my silly. I don't feel random at all. I had it for a little while, but it's gone now. there's a hole.

The title of this post will become obvious, but I didn't really want it at the top of my page in bold letters.

The guide to being awesome shall be put on hiatus because I don't really feel awesome right now. I feel like an ass. I can't get a fucking job, I'm failing weichert's class because I'm fucking lazy, my parents are mad because I can't get a fucking job and I've got a fucking headache. I can't say what else is bothering me because it would probably make it worse. I'm tired of saying fucking obsenities, because fuck is probably one of the stupidest words in existence. It doesn't even make you feel any better for getting your fucking anger out, it just makes you sound like a fucking pile of white trash. It even looks fucking ugly, I mean look at the fucking word! Is it pleasant to read? doesn't it make you want to write some fucking complaint to whoever the fuck wrote this fucking word? I mean, god, it's like duck without the cool. Ducks are awesome, why should they have to bear a name that rhymes with the worst fucking word in our fucking language? I pity anyone named Charles, as well. They don't have it as bad as the ducks, though, atleast they don't have to take the nickname. Ducks are stuck the way they are. Which is kind of the way I feel, I can't do anything about anything. Every fucking problem I have has a way of perpetuating itself so I can't do any better. Every report card it's some average or lower GPA, and it gets on my nerves, but I don't do a fucking thing about it. I don't know why, I just don't. Maybe I don't really want to go to fucking college or have a fucking possibility of a future. Maybe I secretly want to be a fucking bum and live off garbage that people throw at me. Maybe I'll apprentice to some janitor before I have a chance to not graduate, and I'll live at LC for the rest of my fucking life. Maybe I'll turn to a life of crime and be a fucking pirate until I get caught and sent to jail, where people who actually had the sort of circumstancial upbringing to lead to that end will fuck me up the ass.