jonny_quest's Xanga

In Honor of Dawkins' US Book Tour

Sat, 10 Oct 2009 15:43:54 GMT

Science. It works.

Good News, Everyone!

Fri, 25 Sep 2009 02:34:54 GMT

Or not. It seems I can't get much of anything in the way of scholarships at KU if I transfer mid-year. So, I have to decide if I want to go home at the end of the semester, or take the risk of completing a year.

On one hand I would have to get a job if I went back home. Not the most appealing prospect. Plus, I would be bored out of my skull.

On the other hand I can go for broke and stick out the rest of the year here. Maybe the place will grow on me and I won't want to transfer. That's seeming like the smarter choice at the moment. However, I will have to take chem (which is incredibly difficult yet enjoyable) in the spring, and perhaps physics also. That'd be two labs, and I'd also probably have to take Calc 3 and a social science class.

I guess I have some time yet to make my decision. I think I will put in a transfer app to KU, just to have the option open for next fall, but it looks like it's either go home or stay here for the spring of 2010.

What a difficult decision this is proving to be.

-Jon

Prodigal Son

Wed, 23 Sep 2009 02:33:33 GMT

Two and a half years ago I had made up my mind that I was going to apply to schools in the northeast. I had an overwhelming urge to escape the midwest and the boredom that comes therewith.

Now I'm returning home; or, I will be at the conclusion of this semester. I'm not a city boy. The saying is cliché, but "You can take a boy out of the country, but you can never take the country out of a boy." Damn straight. People here are too rude, too busy, for me to identify with. Their clocks seem to be running at a pace five-fold mine and I've been exhausting myself trying to keep up.

But no more. I'm headed back to the heartland. I'll be about two and a half hours from home and only thirty minutes from Kansas City. Plus it'll be a lot cheaper.

Having said all this, it would seem as though I passed up the more practical option years ago. And in fact that's true. But I wanted to see the city and learn to live like the people here. I now find that the latter is impossible. I'm a product of my environment, and that environment was rural Kansas. I'm like a tropical plant transplanted in the tiaga. I simply cannot survive, let alone flourish, here.

Thus, the prodigal son returns home broke, but not broken. I retain some hope for the future: That KU will be less daunting than BU. That I can identify with the common denominator. That I will have friends.

If not KU, then perhaps another midwestern institution. Grinnell sounds nice, but right now I think I need to be close to home.

The prairie beckons.

-J

A Paean to the Prairie

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 01:12:48 GMT

There's something about growin' up in the country that changes a man. It isn't apparent at first, hell, it took me nineteen years to figure it out, but I think I've finally seen the subtle thumbprint of the prairie. I'm an individual. I don't like large groups, and when I'm in them I want to lead them. There's something about having to fend for yourself growing up that makes a man like that.

And then there's the general repulsion of the city. It's like the air is poisonous when you're in the city, and the poison just slowly drives you mad. It seeps into your pores and drives you crazy with visions of home and wishes of freedom. Back home I could go anywhere I wanted. Here I'm stuck within a <45 mile radius, unless I really want to splurge on a bus or train. But that bus or that train's just going to take me to another damn city, and what's the point of that? Back home I could jump on a motorcycle and ride till my cheeks were windburnt and my lips were chapped beyond all reason. Didn't matter where I was riding it to; the ride was the destination.

And the sunsets. Once a man's seen a Kansas sunset he can't imagine anything more beautiful; ocher, violet, crimson, orange, and blue intertwining. Hell, I can't see the sun set OR rise from my room! And the city weather lacks spirit. It seems almost as disheartened as I am. At least back home storms had the power to strike death where ever they damn well pleased.

And the people. The vain, shallow, LOUD, and narcissistic people. God they drive me up the wall. They act like they don't have any responsibilities. I can't remember the day when I didn't have responsibilities. I mean, sure, I didn't have to get up at 5:00 to milk the cows, but I knew certain things were expected of me. But at the same time I admire them. They're able to navigate the catacombs of city society and culture in ways I can't even fathom. They're agile lemurs in a concrete jungle, while I, the sloth, am left to ponder their deft movements.

In conclusion, I'm a man out of his element. I'm an encaged animal yearning to be set free. Maybe I will remain here in the city, and learn to roam its streets, but more probable is that I will go home and label the city as a misadventure; short chapter in my misspent youth. I have a few months left until I have to make my decision. My family has lived in rural America for about 140 years, and whether or not Nelson feet will still set foot on tilled earth rests, at least in part, on a few fortnights and a young man rife with longing for his prairie home.

There's nothing quite like a sunset on the prairie, and this native son wishes he were sitting there today.

-Jon

Ode to a Developer.

Sun, 23 Aug 2009 08:48:32 GMT

Oh how I yearn for the days of ET for the Atari 2600! The epoch of little brown man trapped in a void of ceaseless despair may be past, but we are still in the age of the wrathful developer.

His mighty pale finger strokes keys in malice, filling his screen with the encoded wrath. He sucks his filmy teeth and gulps his saccharine soda as malice flashes behind his reddened eyes.

They shamed him in school. They cursed him in college. But now they would learn. They would feel the icy cold grip of his revenge.

And thus he sits in the dark. Hunched over with greasy hair like tentacles grasping his shoulders, he envisions the impending rage of thousands of gamers.

His code morphs into a vision: a Star Destroyer hovers in the distance, with TIE fighters advancing in waves. The Sisyphean task? Pull the Star Destroyer into the planet's surface while fending off the squadrons of TIEs using two analog sticks and obscure on-screen cues.

Oh, it may seem like nothing; a minor inconvenience conquerable by all but the scum of the gaming world, but the insidious nature of the level will make itself apparent.

Obscene screams fill the inky night years after our coder has crafted his revenge. Controllers fly across rooms and shatter thousand dollar TVs. Grown men cry in anguish at the sheer madness of the games design.

And in his basement, a grin flashes across the face of a pale, gaunt man. His revenge complete, he collapses amidst Cheetos dust and empty soda bottles.

Well Played, Sir. Well Played.

-Jon

(The sad thing is, I love the game, but I'll never be able to beat it.)

I don't <i> Ever </i> want to feel like I did that day

Tue, 11 Aug 2009 09:12:12 GMT

I was listening to the song "Under the bridge" By the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and I realized what a beautiful metaphor it is for living with depression, and the struggle such a life can sometimes present:

Sometimes I feel
Like I dont have a partner
Sometimes I feel
Like my only friend
Is the city I live in
The city of angel
Lonely as I am
Together we cry

The first stanza very well explains the feelings of depression, and swap city with the countryside of Kansas, it very nearly approximates the way I felt back in March. I was back in my "city" but all I could do was mourn, and Kansas, "my city," mourned as well.

I drive on her streets
cause shes my companion
I walk through her hills
cause she knows who I am
She sees my good deeds
And she kisses me windy
I never worry
Now that is a lie

Long drives down dirt roads. Sunrises over freshly chiseled fields. The unmistakable sound of a breeze through a grove of cottonwood trees. Sunsets with friends or loved ones. Nights out in the wide open, naked to the night sky. Fields of sunflowers, milo, or soybeans, rustling in the wind. Towering thunderclouds. The beauty of Kansas.

Yet I do worry. One cannot live with such a disease and not worry. However I have confidence in myself and my friends; together we will persevere.

I dont ever want to feel
Like I did that day
Take me to the place I love
Take me all the way

Back in March, all I needed to do was get back to Kansas. Back to my home. Back to the land I was raised to love.

Its hard to believe
That theres nobody out there
Its hard to believe
That Im all alone
At least I have her love
The city she loves me
Lonely as I am
Together we cry

A this stage in my recovery I have to dissuade any doubts I may have in myself. I have to embrace the friends I have and cultivate new ones. It's hard to believe I'm all alone because I know that I'm not; my special someone is in Boston, I just have to find her. But, should all else fail, despite my best efforts, Kansas and those that have raised and loved me are still here for me. And we'll cry and laugh together again, no matter the case.

I dont ever want to feel
Like I did that day
Take me to the place I love
Take me all the way

I refuse to relapse. I refuse to allow those feelings that I felt that day. And, again, home is always waiting for me, with open hearts and open doors.

Under the bridge downtown
Is where I drew some blood
Under the bridge downtown
I could not get enough
Under the bridge downtown
Forgot about my love
Under the bridge downtown
I gave my life away

The epitome of depression. I was lost in pain. I forgot those that cared for me. I couldn't get enough compassion, enough humanity; I was isolated beyond belief. I was under the bridge, and I only managed to dig myself. out. My life, still mine, will be my masterwork, and it is now all the more precious knowing how close it was to eluding my grasp.

========

I don't know if this is much or not, but this song spoke to me more than it ever has today, and I had to write about it.

I hope you enjoyed it, but if not, at least I did.

Cheers,
Jonny_Quest

One of those Personality Tests

Fri, 24 Jul 2009 09:11:20 GMT

"Your result for The LONG Scientific Personality Test...

ESTJ-The Supervisor

You scored 64% I to E, 68% N to S, 67% F to T, and 37% J to P!

Your type is known as the supervisor, as you are not hesitant to give your stamp of approval on others - or tell them how they are lacking if they are. You are surprised when others don't seem grateful that you have set them straight. Your type also belongs to the larger group called guardians. Experience is what matters to you, not experimentation or conjecture. You often take a lead role in the many groups and organizations you belong to. You worry a great deal about society falling apart, morality degrading, and what the world is coming to. You share your personality type with 10% of the population.
As a romantic partner, you communicate very clearly your strong opinions so your partner always knows where they stand. You are dependable, responsible, and rock solid. You can be rather infexible about giving up any control and insist on keeping a schedule, although you have great energy and enthusiam for planned adventures. You have difficulty seeing other's points of view and your biggest downfall in a relationship is dismissing your partner's feelings as illogical. You feel most appreciated for being trustworthy, efficient, and productive. You wish to be thanked tangibly for the ways you keep your lives on track.
Your group summary: Guardians (SJ)
Your Type Summary: ESTJ"

I would say it hit the nail on the proverbial head.

-J

Life Lessons

Wed, 08 Jul 2009 07:38:30 GMT

Strap in for an extra long introspective. Or don't. You probably aren't missing more than the ramblings of a madman.

Life has a funny way of teaching you things. Events long forgotten seem to have a way of coming into stark relief when juxtaposed with the events of the present. My events are, on the surface, totally non-related. One involves boyhood antics on a snowmobile, and the other the challenges encountered by a fresh faced young man adjusting to life in college. However, upon deeper reflection, there is a common thread that unites these two stories. I’ve only come to this epiphany tonight; however, I feel that the following bit of introspection will yield similarities that may surprise even me.

The first story begins, innocently enough, in the town of Winter Park, Colorado. My grandmother and I joined our cousins from Illinois in a trek to see one of our relation get married. On the way up I had casually mentioned how neat it would be to go snowmobiling (I was 16 after all). It just so happened that my Uncle Roger took note of that hint and, one morning, asked if I’d like to go. It goes without saying that I jumped at the chance. Soon enough we were at a rental shop in Grand Lake. I really wanted to have my own snowmobile, but, being under 18, I wasn’t allowed to rent and I agreed instead to ride on the back while Roger drove. We got up in the trails away to what was probably a placid meadow in the summer, and Roger asks if I’d like to take the proverbial wheel. It wasn’t a proposition that I was against. Of course, as is his style, my uncle had to draw it out. He said I could only drive it on one condition: if he had to tell me I was being a dumbass more than once I was through. I agreed and jumped onto the snowmobile. I nodded at Roger and ripped the throttle open. Before I knew it I was going 40 MPH and had lost all control of the snarling beast between my legs. Suddenly it began to track into a creek that had filled with snow and my head nearly missed making friends with a young pine tree. Crunch! Whrrrrr! The sounds were awful as I came to a stop in at least five feet of snow. There was no driving away from this one despite no obvious harm to the snowmobile. I shakily got up and waived Roger over to me, hoping to communicate the fact that I wasn’t dead or dying. He trudged a good 70 yards to the creek and he looked at me and said “You’re up to 7. Now stop apologizing and start digging.” And dig I did. I dug my fat 16 year old ass off, but there was no making progress with just a couple of gloved hands. Eventually a guy came by that happened to have a shovel and he helped us dig and push the snowmobile out. Ashamed and out of breath I got on the back and waited for him to drive us back to the truck.

Then something I never would have anticipated happened: we came to another clearing and he let me drive it again. Apparently he thought that my near-death experience would have taught me to respect the machine, and if not, well, at least he was aiding natural selection. So, apprehensively, I climbed up and tapped the throttle. I don’t think I exceeded 5-10 MPH the entire 10 minutes I drove the snowmobile; I was utterly terrified of losing control of it and disappointing my uncle. Up until tonight I thought of it as simply a fond memory from childhood…

Fast forward two-and-a-half years and I’m landing at Logan Intl. Airport in Boston. I’m an eager freshman, full of vim, vigor, and vitality. I rush into my courses headlong, and get involved with some research to boot. I was starved of opportunity for so long and the fact that everything I wanted was available made me think I had to take it all in one go. Well, as you may have guessed, the research thing didn’t last more than a couple of months, and then I really started to get bogged down in my courses as winter set in. I finished the semester exhausted but with a decent GPA. Then came the Spring. The first problem was that I became addicted to one of the most potent drugs known to mankind: Women. The second problem was that I had so thoroughly burnt my reserves my first semester that I was running on fumes my second. I was falling asleep in classes, and just doing much worse than I am accustomed to. I chalked it up to tougher courses and kept going. In late February I got the flu. That wasn’t pleasant, but it passed without me missing too much class. However, I was still continually lethargic to the point of borderline narcolepsy. Then, the Thursday before spring break began, my world caved in around me. Without going into explicit detail, I became suicidal and admitted myself to the psych ward of a nearby hospital. I had crashed as hard as was possible. I was soon diagnosed as Bipolar and I withdrew from school in order to get a handle on my disorder.

From there on out I’ve been riding along on the coattails of my doctors and parents as we work together to set my affairs in order. So far I think things have gone fairly well. However, the specter of the coming semester is looming larger and the time is drawing nigh when I’ll need to take the wheel.

So to where do I set a course? Do I go back to Boston and face down the demons that defeated me once before? Or do I take the more peaceful path and transfer to KU?

It would seem that, if I’ve learned anything from the past, it’s best to play it safe, yet, at the same time, there have been other instances where I’ve risked it all and been bounteously rewarded in return.

I know where my parents stand on the issue. The only person that’s conflicted is me. I don’t know if I could look myself in the mirror knowing I quit without giving BU a proper shot. Conversely, do I really want to double down on my future, and my future debt? The way I see it I only have one more shot at BU. If I flunk out or go into the loony-bin again there is little chance they’ll let me back. It is at that point that KU becomes my only choice.

I absolutely don’t know what to do. It’s my life. It’s my decision. I just don’t know how to make it.

-Jon

:edit: I re-read this and I don't even remember having written the ending paragraphs. I'm not balanced as precariously as I made it seem, and I'm not sure why I alluded to that fallacy. Fact is, I want to go back to Boston; no, need to go back to Boston. And go back I shall.

Also, just wanted this in here somewhere.

The Eve of Destruction

Thu, 28 May 2009 05:38:15 GMT

I started delivering pizza for the summer tonight and am about to head to bed. My rest, however, will be uneasy.

The world is once again on the brink of war. It has been nearly 70 years since Germany invaded Poland and sparked WWII. Now we are faced with an even more dire fate as the lunatic Kim Jong Il threatens nuclear war. Today it was announced that DPRK is throwing out the armistice that ended the Korean War and that South Korean and US troops are being placed on high alert. I think it's safe to say that we're on the brink of nuclear war.

May cooler heads prevail.

-Jon

The Recession Strikes Back

Thu, 19 Feb 2009 19:40:36 GMT

Good news everyone! You're going to read this in the voice of Professor Farnsworth!

*siiiiigh*

This summer I was planning on working one of two jobs: either for BU orientation, or as an intern chemist at Hospira back home.

Hospira sent me an e-mail today thanking me for my interest and notifying me that the program has been cancelled. Great.

Now my only opportunity, as far as I can see it, for very necessary summer employment is BU orientation, which isn't exactly the easiest job to land. 200+ applicants. 45 positions. You do the math.

If that doesn't go through, it looks like I'll be back in Kansas for the summer delivering pizzas again or doing some other menial minimum-wage job. Awesome.

I have officially been screwed over by the economy.

What glorious news awaits me next week? Mom gets laid off of work? Some sort of blight destroys our wheat crop? A pterodactyl flies into my room? Who knows? Tune in next week!

-Jon

PS: Keep it coming, Murphy. I'm not dead yet.

-Jon