Hysteria and the End of the World

The end of the world is apparently coming in three days.

I was not aware of this at all until just now. I've seen signs of "Christ is returning" and "The Rapture" but I've been ignoring them thinking it was more "I'm going to force my beliefs down your throat" kind of Christians.

But I did not know the prediction was May 21, just three days away. What happened to all the December 21, 2012 mumbo jumbo?

This is what I found online:

The first proof is based on Genesis 7:4, when God said to Noah: "Seven days from now I will send rain on the earth for forty days and forty nights, and I will wipe from the face of the earth every living creature I have made."

When God referred to seven days, he meant both seven days and seven thousand years, because "one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day." The flood occurred in 4990 BC. Seven thousand years later is 2011.

How do you get 7000 years from seven days? That's just assumption. If you're going to quote Genesis, why not quote what the Bible says only two chapters later?

And I will establish my covenant with you, neither shall all flesh be cut off any more by the waters of a flood; neither shall there any more be a flood to destroy the earth.
- Genesis 9:11

Boom. Take that Harold Camping (that's the preacher who predicted this May 21 thing). The second reason is even worse than the first.

The second proof looks at the significance of the number of days between the Crucifixion and May 21, 2011.

There are 722,500 days between these dates. 722,500 is a significant number because it is composed of the significant numbers 5x10x17x5x10x17. Five signifies redemption; ten signifies completion; and 17 signifies heaven. The numbers represent the day of redemption (5) and the end of the Christian era (10) and the ascent to heaven (17) -- and these factors are doubled for added significance.

Really? Why multiply it only twice? Why not three times? I'm pretty sure three is a significant number in the Bible as well. That's the amount of times Peter denied Jesus. That's how many times Jesus prayed in Gethsemane before he was arrested. That's how many days it took for Jesus to resurrect. So why two? Why not multiply those three numbers three times? Again, mumbo jumbo.

It's like those statisticians saying Player A is the first player to record at least 32 points, 17 rebounds, and 14 assists in a single game. Of course he's going to be the first when you make it to the exact number of his stats. Not sure if I made my point clear there. Numbers can be played with is what I'm trying to say I guess.

So to anyone who is worried about impending doom, I say don't worry. This thing will blow right by just like Y2K did.

School and Summer

I was going to have a giant checklist of my summer plans and everything, but what checklist am I going to put up if I have nothing planned?

I'm just going to make one promise to myself (two if you count finding a job as one).

Come back to school in August being a better person.

Reality hit me this semester. Really this past month or two. I needed this reality check more than anything else.

The Man Who Died and The World's Celebration

My nap was rudely interrupted by drunk white girls chanting "USA! USA! USA!" outside my window and singing (quite poorly and even messed the lyrics up) Star Spangled Banner. I thought it was some drunk frenzy of patriotism. Leave it to Facebook to catch me up on everything.

Osama Bin Laden has been "found" (or killed...I don't know which one) dead.

The thing that gets to me is all these people rejoicing. I don't think I had one shred of happiness when I found out. Yeah, I live in New York City. I was a couple of blocks down from the World Trade Center. I even wrote a paper two months ago about the effect that the War on Terror had on the city. So, I can't even say that the man who died didn't affect me.

But, I will repeat it: I don't think I had one shred of happiness over his death.

I was beginning to think I just had no sense of patriotism. The man who our country deemed the most wanted man is finally dead. Only a small handful of people on the social networking sites were publicly ashamed of people's rejoicing. I'm sure there are more people, but they didn't make it public. Then, my friend posted a link to a blog on another friend's Facebook status (which was rather weird since he was describing Bin Laden being killed like it was Call of Duty). For those too lazy to click and read, I'll try my best to condense it.

Do I take any pleasure in the death of the wicked? declares the Sovereign LORD. Rather, am I not pleased when they turn from their ways and live?
- Ezekiel 18:23

In a nutshell, if I applied this verse to the current situation, then it would have been most pleasing to God if Bin Laden repented and lived. We rejoiced over the death of a man. God wept. That's how the blog put it.

I don't care if that man who lost his life today was the world's most heinous of men. I just can't rejoice like how probably 90% of Americans are rejoicing.

Just some food for thought.

Dreaming and Dreaming Even Higher

I don't truly understand dreams. To me, they are just images your brain subconsciously puts together. I don't see any deeper meanings behind them. Just because one thing happens in a dream does not mean I'll prosper financially. I had a whole discussion about dreams with my family group the other day. I could go on, but it'll be a bore.

Like everyone else, I had a lot of dreams in my lifetime with only a fraction of those being remembered. But how awesome would it be to live a dream? Looking at all these athletes, singers, actors/actresses and thinking..."Wow, they're living the dream."

I was talking to the leader of the dance crew I'm in yesterday and towards the end of our discussion, I realized a newfound dream.

How cool would it be to dance for a living? To choreograph a routine for someone like Justin Bieber would be beyond awesome. How many people can say they choreographed for a star like Justin Bieber? Or perhaps I could be in a dance crew travelling the world and performing. It would be a dream come true to be on a show like America's Best Dance Crew. $100,000 grand prize. The right to tour around the nation with some of the best crews out there. Having people recognize who you are worldwide.

Wow.

Is it foolish to still be thinking up dreams like this at this stage in my life?

Once Upon A Time and All Those Yesterdays

Once upon a time, in a not so different world, lived a boy who was sure of himself. He wanted to do it all.

He wanted to be a Power Ranger and ensure safety to the world.

He wanted to be an ice cream man for those hot summer days.

He wanted to run a chicken wing factory and eat all the chicken wings he could.

He wanted to become like his favorite professional basketball player.

He wanted to run his favorite NBA team as a general manager.

He wanted to be a rock star even if he couldn't sing.

He wanted to be a movie star on the level of Will Smith.

He wanted to be a YouTube sensation and have his name known worldwide.

He wanted to be a psychologist to make the big money.

He wanted to be a journalist travelling around the world.

He wanted to work in the advertising world to make a living.

But once upon a time only seemed like just yesterday.

Sweat and Blood

I actually have a few drafts saved up, but now that I look at them...the more I don't think they're blog-worthy. It's been a while since my last post, so here's just an update on life.

Being an art student sucks. And the sad thing is I'm saying this now while everything is supposed to be at its easiest. I don't know if I can keep doing this. This is when a time machine would be much appreciated. Go back to freshman year of high school and fix those grades so that I could have gotten into Newhouse for communications. But since reality doesn't allow for time machines, I'll have to pour my sweat and blood (literally) into these lame art projects.

Oh and here's "useless life tip #1": Being impatient with a chisel in your hand is a terrible idea. You will hurt yourself. More than once. On the same finger.

I guess I like how the bandages look together. Kind of like the sleeve/bandage/whatever it is Kobe Bryant wears on his index finger.

I really have no idea what to blog about. Sometimes I wish I had a private blog to blog about all the things that can't be posted here. But then what's the point? Might as well keep it in my head or type it out on Microsoft Word.

I just realized I ordered food four nights in a row. Domino's three out of four nights. Oh dear...

Jitters and Stages

I love performing on stage. Before Saturday, the last time I performed on stage was in my senior year of high school. I almost forgot how it felt like. Then I relived the feeling.

The weeks prepping before the big day are tumultuous. I was in charge of my group's performance in high school, so I understand the hair-pulling and frustration that goes with being in charge. The yelling, the laughs, the anticipation, but not the stress. Most people stress. I did not. I still didn't feel it. I was more engrossed in the NCAA and finishing my projects. The stress didn't hit me again this time. That is until I saw the first act of the night perform. It wasn't that I was stressed about being on stage. More like I was afraid I'd miss a step. I cringe at myself every time I make a slight mistake.

Then there's the pre-show action. Every thing from dress rehearsals to last minute run-throughs. It's like being on a set of a movie. Everyone is doing something. Everyone is rushing around. Not to sound lazy, but I think it's fun to watch.

There's being on stage. Right before I go on, I feel all tense and nervous. But the moment I step on stage, it's all gone. I don't feel tense anymore. I'm not nervous. It's all gone. The audience is just one big mass in front of me. I'm not sure what kind of mass. Just one big black blob. I barely think about what I'm doing on stage. My body remembers all the practice leading up to that moment and just repeats it to the music. I catch myself thinking here and there to ensure as close to perfect as I can.

Finally, there's the feeling after your performance is done. It goes by in an instant. A full run through of the performance in practice seems like to last forever. But on stage, it's done in a flash. I may never understand this lapse of time in my mind. But the feeling afterwards is one of relief like the world and it's moon has been lifted off my shoulders. Everything becomes surreal. I can't wait until I can be on a stage again.