Being Catholic.

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing wrong with Christians who are not Evangelical war-mongering end of the world pro-life but pro-apocalyptic mayhem, but there is something about Catholics that just pisses me off. My friend Logan has had his life impacted by Mormons, and thankfully the Mormons are not in my area. But, it seems like the majority of people around here are Catholics, and are devout followers of Catholicism.

That's cool and all, but come the fuck on. In my World History class, we started with the birth of Christianity just a few weeks back, and we've pretty much covered the whole Catholic/Lutheran rah-rah bullshit. Only a complete idiot could be so blind as to not see the obvious corruption found RIGHT IN MY MOTHERFUCKING TEXTBOOK.

Catholics sold INDULGENCES. To get you into HEAVEN. You paid the church, bought an indulgence, and got into heaven. In the 1500's, if you were poor, Catholic, and unable to support yourself you could either:

A. Spend money on supporting your family and remaining healthy, but go to hell.
B. Blow all your money on a bullshit piece of paper that would let you go to Heaven.
C. Die.

I always thought Catholics were into baptism and all this, and yet the Pope is really, really wanting to make a buck, so he makes an indulgence. Not only that, but several Popes married and fathered children, as well as bribing the church into letting one of their sons become a Cardinal. If that isn't corruption, I don't know what the fuck is.

I had to do an advertisement for a religion, and one of the guidelines were that I was not allowed to use more than a few words, or exemplify any form of my vocabulary prowess, because most people in that time period COULD NOT READ.

So, Martin Luther comes along, reads the bible and interprets for himself. So, he tries getting these people to follow him, and as such they READ the bible and begin finding things out for themselves. They READ the bible. Whenever the only people who could READ were monks and bishops.

Martin Luther INTERPRETED the bible. Has no one realized that each tiny little religious difference is characterized by different interpretations of one book? Why is it not that simple? Hell, Martin Luther himself had to translate the entire thing into German so his followers could read it. Or so it says.

The corruption in the Catholic church stretches out even to today, where a Priest can get away with having sexual intercourse with a minor. Now, why is this? Well, whenever a Priest commits a crime such as that, the "Church" has a "conference". The State and Government sure as hell don't step in. Hell, it's not like the Priest broke the law and raped some innocent little boy. Surely he didn't do that, and surely that's not AGAINST THE MOTHERFUCKING LAW.

How can everyone not see this bullshit? Another thing that bothers me, and my mother tells me this often, is that Catholics are "drinkers". That they don't see indulging in liquor to be a sin (or perhaps it is a minor sin), and as such...there are more drunks in my area. I understand that this is a big contributor to Miller, Budweiser, Busch Light, Pabst Blue Ribbon, and Keystone, the choice of all professional drunkards who can't afford life insurance, but whenever it comes down to it, I don't want to have to drive at night and worry about some Catholic who thought it was cool to drive home after having a few drinks.

I don't understand that much at all, and if someone could enlighten me as to why a good handful of them think it's an okay thing to do (drink, not drink and drive), I would surely appreciate it. I cannot fathom how people cannot wrap their minds around all this. I understand that it took me a long time to come out of my shell and shed my Christianity and accept that I was Agnostic, but that was because I was raised in Church and because I was scared. Yeah, I was fucking scared. But when it comes down to it...I really do have a hard time believing all this. I feel like I was lied to for what was the majority of my life, and that I was absolutely brainwashed into believing something that I clearly do not believe in today. And as such, I've become very, very bitter and angry.

I hope to shy away from this subject more in the future and focus more on reviews, but until people give me some suggestions (movies, music, videogames, etc.), I can't help but rant on and on about these types of things. Because frankly, I'm fucking sick of it.

I rarely expect anyone to agree with me on 95% of the things I talk about, and that's perfectly fine. I almost don't want you to. Just sit and think about it. What are the grounds for your beliefs, and how strong do they stand? Fortunately for me, they were pretty fucking loose, but I doubt that's the case for most people.

But really,

Motivation for this blog will come as soon as I get an idea, or until the Mormons finally decide to try and sell me a bible. Whichever comes first.

I've got a fever...

And the only cure is more rock climbing.

Three weeks ago, my friend Donald canceled out on me to go bouldering. He was going to be my ride so I could cohabitate while on a date, but...fortunately, he went bouldering instead. What is bouldering, you might ask?

Well, bouldering is the same was rock climbing, only you do not use a harness, a rope, or climb any higher than seven meters (tops). Usually you don't climb any higher than your own height, but as you get better you can work your way up. Donald informed me on Saturday (the following day) that he was absolutely dead tired, and that he could barely even squeeze a ketchup bottle. Now, Donald is ripped. He is in the best physical condition I have seen of just about anyone, and anything that can make him that sore is badass. Bouldering was officially termed," Rock climb for hardasses," in my book, and I just let it go.

Well, Donald told me of the prices and decided he was going to go every Thursday and Sunday. Well, to make a long story short...I have not missed a single Thursday or Sunday in the past three weeks. I am officially licensed to belay a climber, and I have a gym membership to the climbing gym we go to. I plan on investing money into a pair of personal climbing shoes along with a chalk bag, and I am straight up motherfucking addicted to this. And let me tell you, it hurts.

Today, I skipped that bullshit Track thing I do after school to rock climb, and I don't have any regrets. Last Sunday we invited our Earth Space teacher and Math teacher to join us. Mr. Ayer (my Earth Space teacher) invited his daughter a long (see picture above), Shaylyn, and Mr. Bell (my Math teacher) brought his girlfriend along, Amanda. Donald and I have also been bringing my friend Zach Kohlstrum a long with us, and amazingly he is a photographer of professional quality. So, with each trip we make, we get about a dozen or so 2600x 3884 photos.

You can find his flickr here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/zkphoto and I assure you, he's damn good. It really is one of the most challenging and addicting activities I've engaged in in probably my entire life, and I don't plan to stop anytime soon. This is just an introduction to my new hobby, and I'm going to make sure to talk about it a whole lot more.

I'll leave you with a picture of me dominating a problem in style. I guess I should tell you that a problem is a specific course that you have to take while climbing, to increase difficulty and test your dexterity. Gives you a really good judge of how good you are. But yeah, do enjoy.

" Donald! Donald! I'm too tired up here! Catch my retainer!"

Ibuprofin is a wonderous drug...

Contrary to popular belief, only 90% of these pictures are thought of beforehand.

I'm beyond tired today. My first real day of track practice was today, and at this rate I've only got 8 remaining days. Mentally, I feel I am a very, very strong person and I'm usually able to overcome any weaknesses I might experience physically, despite some effort I may lack in the motivation department. Yesterday, I spent over an hour putting the high jump mats together. This year, I am very upset with the team.

To everyone on the team, I'm just some skinny cross country runner. I decided it would be most beneficial to me to run with the sprinters this season, seeing as how I excel at high jump and am somewhat gifted at it. I have probably ran two miles in the past four months, and I am very, very out of shape despite the muscle I have gained from rock climbing (which I will blog about before too long). I went into practice today with soreness along my quads and my upper back from climbing, and I am nowhere near well rested. I stay up all hours of the night talking on the phone, and when I'm stressed my insomnia kicks back in and I go absolutely apeshit.

Like I said, I go into this completely out of shape, and I'm with the sprinters. We go on a short run, and upon arriving on our destination have to do a one-mile workout. It was supposed to be at a run, and not at a jog. Somehow, I am the first to finish. But, I am not first. I'm fourth. Why is this? Because three motherfuckers cheated, and took the credit. I'm sure coach told them," Great job!"

I finish my run, being the first person to finish that didn't cut through the fucking woods. These three pricks look to me and say," Ready to run another lap?"

I was furious. My throat was filled with thick saliva, and I tried desperately to begin cursing these kids out, but I was breathing far too hard because of the cold to even do a damn thing. I informed coach I would be switching back to distance if I had to put up with this any longer, but when it comes down to it, I don't feel it will benefit my high jumping, so I really have no choice but to stick with the sprinters.

The seniors made no attempts to scold these cheaters, and if that happened during cross country your ass would've been chewed out. You complete the entire run, no matter how long it takes. I have that mentality stuck in my head, and seeing something as obvious as that go unheeded was just...mind-boggling. It shouldn't have infuriated me, but the Seniors that held the team together last year are having a ball off in college, and I'm still just a god damn Sophomore with no authority. I try to be a nice person, I really do.

On top of this, I had to go to the weight room. They wanted us to max out, which...as far as I'm concerned, is unheard of for a distance runner to do in track and field. I was always under the impression that we were supposed to build lean muscle. The explanation behind it was absurd, and I didn't buy it at all. Being a rock climber now, I snuck over and started doing reps of chin ups and curls. I got away with this, but whenever I went to do reps at bench press I was scolded for not maxing out. I almost wasted forty minutes today, and the only time that wasn't wasted I spent doing things I was not supposed to do.

So here I am, at almost 9pm and I'm absolutely exhausted. Ibuprofin has become my new best friend, and I absolutely fucking regret pushing myself today. Hell, I didn't even push myself. I just actually tried.

So fucking pathetic. I feel like the sprinters wouldn't know what pain feels like even if it bit them in the ass. My advice to everyone out there is that if you're going to join a team sport, have a team mentality, because no matter how big your balls are, it really doesn't fucking matter unless everyone has a similar mindset as you do. Track and Field especially. Your individual accomplishments won't mean shit if your team never makes an effort to even try.

I just want to have fun. It's working out exactly how I imagined it. I guess Ms. Braun was right," Life sucks, and then you die."

Oh, Valentines Day..

How I loathe you...

I felt like this year, since I'm in a relationship, that this day wouldn't be so bad. It's difficult to judge because spending time with your significant other is usually enjoyable, but this day itself is complete and utter shit. I informed my girlfriend that I would not be getting her a thing for Valentines day, because I do not believe in it. As per usual, things never really go as planned for me...

I got her a card entirely in Spanish. I had no idea what it said, but I thought it was hilarious. I recently dropped Spanish 2, and could only read bits and pieces of it. I believe the title was," To my love, My Wife." and it had a picture of an intimate Hispanic couple lying on white silk sheets, during a resting period from their passionate and unprotected lovemaking session. Valentines Day is sort of like the National Conception Day, whether it be on purpose or accidental. " C'mon, baby...It's Valentines Day...do I really need this?"

Bam. Children. Hispanic children.

My mother is a firm believer in the holiday, and as such made me feel guilty as hell for only getting my girlfriend a card written entirely in Spanish, that confessed my love for her as my wife, and not as my girlfriend. So, the guilt trips she placed on me had me getting her candy and a CD I thought she would be interested in. I thought," Well, this is surely enough...she expects nothing."

I was wrong. Apparently, according to my mother, a girl cannot take a man seriously unless they deliver their gifts in a flamboyant mushy-gushy gift bag. Going to purchase this bag was hell. Not only do I enjoy sticking it to the man, but I suddenly became a hypocrite as I walked down the aisles, ashamed to be in the situation that I was in. My changeover from being a rebellious youth to a hypocritical tool was short-lived, but my insides were burning and I recall tearing up a little, despite the irritation caused by my left contact lens. The things my mother recommended to accentuate the contents of the gift-bag were gut-wrenching, and having to confess my love in this manner went against everything I stood, and still stand for.

The five minutes of grueling agony was worth it, as I was not beaten, despite what my mother said might happen. Valentines Day is just a great excuse for candy and greeting card companies to strike a buck and make a fortune. I just hope it somehow helped the economy...

...Like I give a shit.

Apple Finally Does Something Right.

I look like an idiot for YOUR entertainment!

I apologize for the sound quality. I'm not a fan of yelling so my generic built-in laptop microphone can hear me. Use headphones. Also, my first video...ever. Thank you, laziness.

Far Cry 2: Getting Lost.

For my first video game review, I thought about being a little more positive. I'm trying to review things I have recently played, and seeing as how my "reviews" are geared more towards convincing you NOT to buy a product, it is hard to be positive. Firstly, I played this game on my Xbox 360. I'm one of those people who bitch about how expensive video games are, and as such I borrow them from friends (mostly) instead of purchasing them. I'm also unemployed, so that is my real reason.

I went into this game with a great sense of optimism. After widening the assholes of well over 40,000 people on Call of Duty 4, and accomplishing feats that noobs could only dream about, but are too nooby to even come up with a rational thought that could double as the motherfucking awesome shit I have done on that game, and still do on that game, I wanted a break from my usual rapefest. Why would I want this, you might ask? My dick was sore, obviously.

Now, the game takes place in a Jungle. I'm assuming it was in Africa, but I really didn't pay all that much attention. You get to choose from a shitload of different people at the beginning, but the only thing it changes is what your arms look like. I thought it would be an interesting concept, but why the fuck should I care about what my arms look like in an FPS? I was just grateful there wasn't an underage stripper tattoo or something I had to look at the entire time.

The game has a storyline, which I tried following. I recall being 56% done with the game when I returned it. The storyline doesn't matter. What does matter is that all I did this entire game was bullshit missions, and I bought weapons. You do missions to get diamonds, or you find suitcases with diamonds. The problem is, you do a mission and get 50 diamonds, or you can hunt for several hours and get 15 diamonds. So the whole suitcase diamond thing was a complete waste of time.

Also, driving in this game is all done in 1st person. The cars you buy are endorsed by nothing other than rust, and the only car in the game that matters would have to be the Jeep, which is endorsed by Jeep. I don't understand why, though...

My main gripe with this game was that you had to drive fucking everywhere, and every single car was a piece of shit. I would drive for forty-five seconds, and then get shot at by some asshole and it would just die. A bullet to the fender would make my engine ignite in flames, and to repair it you had to get out of the car, walk around, and tighten one bolt with a wrench. Like, somehow, the one bolt controlled the fire that was surrounding the engine. It was such bullshit, and the only form of transportation were four bus-stops that took you to the farthest corners of the map, so no matter what you had to drive somewhere, to do some mundane, repetitive task.

Fighting in the game was less than desirable. I have a soft spot for the M1911 handgun, and whenever I unlocked and purchased the weapon I was ecstatic. However, shooting someone with it six times in the chest was never, ever fun. Even after fully upgrading the pistol, it took six or seven shots to down someone. I feel that if I were to be shot, I would probably not be able to return fire or kick someones ass regardless. This was how it was for everything, and the aiming was total bullshit. There was never any cover, and I don't recall ever having an advantage in a fight. The element of surprise was never there. I had a camouflage upgrade that made me invisible in tall grass, but the problem was that I didn't feel any different at all, so I wasted 45 diamonds on an upgrade that did absolutely nothing.

I don't recall having ever played a more mundane, boring ass game in all my life. I churned out nearly twenty hours on this piece of shit, and I kept thinking it was going to improve and something exciting would happen. But it never did. It never fucking did. I got to the new areas, I did a shitload of missions and met a whole lot of people I did not give a shit about. Normally I am a compassionate person, but everyone you meet seems just as mindless and ridiculous as all the other AI grunts you fight. I would not have had any problem at all shooting them in the face.

I strongly recommend you to not play this game. The online was broken and the level-editor was complete bullshit. I lagged on an excellent connection, and it was honestly one of the most horrendous online experiences I have ever had. Having played the original Far Cry, I think you would much rather enjoy that. Aside from the pretty graphics, this game has nothing going for it. Nothing at all.

BC 13 Mot--Fuck this.

Today, I had a good day. I cannot look you in the eye right now (figuratively) and say," I had a bad day," because that would be lying. Do I seem like a liar to you? No, of course not.

Lately, I've been subjected to this stupid bullshit scene kid music. It's not that I hate the scene, it's just that I don't care. One of my near and dear friends is a scene kid, but fortunately he does not listen to this TRASH out there. So, since I had a good day today, I'm going to give my first album review a shot.

My taste in music is very broad. I generally enjoy punk, and it's many subgenres. I am also a big fan of indie rock, and indie pop, primarily those based out of the Toronto area. I also enjoy some jazz once in awhile, and for the most part I can tolerate just about anything besides Toby Keith or the sounds of a Southern girl on her period. With that said, this new post-post (that's what I call it) hardcore electronica bullshit is enough to make me apply for a free castration by a dentist. An unlicensed, unclean, child-molesting dentist.

From what I have heard of this bullshit, I would rather listen to the sounds of whales fucking underwater while Rosie O'Donnel comments on how fucking delicious her alfredo is, but some dumb motherfucker put too much salt on it to deliberately keep her fat ass fat. Now, I consider myself to be an open-minded, albeit opinionated person. Why is this? How can I be very open-minded, but but still hold strong beliefs and opinions? Simple answer: Because some things are FUCKING STUPID. This album I'm about to review is one of them. There are five tracks on this album, and if I make it through three then I think I will have done a good job. Let me begin.

01. Freaxxx.

Initially, I find the spelling to be complete bullshit. Three X's is a code for pornography, and we all know this. It seems like this song is about getting freaky now, and then how much pussy the lead singer gets while his girlfriend screams in the background. Apparently these alcoholic women want his penis, and he decided to write a song about it.

It's very difficult to listen to this douchebag talk about something that has probably never happened to him before. I've heard virgins make music before, and this is the kind of sound they produced. It seems like later in the song he becomes more sentimental and actually wants to talk to this girl, but I'm sure she's too drunk (and her eyes are too filled with tears) for her to even give a shit. I sure hope this faggot doesn't cry some more.

Also, the screaming is excessive and I don't understand why he would be yelling.

02. Sex Toyz.

Once again, what the fuck is with this spelling?

Alright, well. The chorus is," Girl, you so sexy, you give me the heeby jeebies; you make my peepee hard."

............

03. Schitzo

I'm done.

This Isn't Gay

It's awesome.

I just spent the last few hours of my life writing a three page report on homosexuality. This report was supposed to be informational and should double as a speech. Frankly, I've wasted so much fucking time on this subject that I don't even care anymore. I was diehard about this topic, and my opinions were very strong and standstill. I was unable to engage in a class discussion (thanks to SWEET MEAT), and I had to do the alternative, which I just described.

I had a dozen sources it seemed like, and parenthetical documentation is so tedious that I just winged it and I can only hope she grades it lightly. Since SWEET MEAT fucked up, I have a late grade on this report despite it being done on the correct time. I would rather have listened to Buzz Ballads 2 (and skipping over Simple Plan) than read about gay marriage one more time.

I realized while doing this report that nothing really applied to me, and despite being a Liberal (Anarchist) and having a homosexual sister, I burnt myself out. I burnt myself out on homosexuality. Apparently 70 million Christians believe that you choose to be a homosexual, and that your SEXUAL ORIENTATION can be swayed through prayer. God views homosexuality as being a dramatic sin. So dramatic in fact, that he does not love you. To anyone gay out there: The conservative Christians called, and they wanted to tell you that YOUR GOD DOES NOT LOVE YOU.

The almighty and all loving, all forgiving God can love the most masochistic, narcissistic, sadistic, racist, Nascar loving motherfucker on the planet (America), but he cannot love you because you are gay. Because of your predetermined sexual preference, you are not loved by the most loving person in all of existence.

That makes me want to kill something. Gears of War 2 can't even cool that burn. This is why I am a hateful person. Because people, probably on my fucking street, believe in that bullshit. Are they not open to the concept that God changes along with the world? We are no longer the primitive sons of bitches we used to be when Christianity started, whenever the only people who could READ OR WRITE were PRIESTS, BISHOPS, and THE FUCKING POPE.

Fuck you and your burning bush. God damn it.