The Activists

The Activists
By Andrew Moravick

They marched proudly united on their way to class, each step in their Birkenstock sandals fell in defiance of their adversary. Their old, tattered antique rock band shirts blazoned across their chests, as ancient warriors wore depictions of heroes and gods upon their breastplates. They were rebels, outlaws, visionaries; voices of their time and generation; walking testaments to the advancement of modern knowledge through the internet. They had broadened their horizons with new, mind expanding substances, and armed themselves with ammunition from the media, and related websites. They were the future. They were also late.
Henry, Thomas, Aaron, and Jeff had allowed their morning, pre-class “wake and bake” ritual to run a bit longer than usual. It was alright though, it had to be done. They were dedicated students. They would be doing themselves a disservice by not attending class high. The whole lesson could not be fully appreciated and understood without their minds being as open as they were on weed. It was also their personal battle against the unfair social constraints that tried to tell them that marijuana was wrong. Every puff, every inhalation of that liberating smoke was a small victory over a government insistent on keeping them down.
“Hey, hey, Henry, check out Professor Parson’s mustache,” whispered Aaron, “Its wriggling around like a centipede.”
Henry choked out a stifled giggle before quieting himself. Henry was the common link between the other three. He had met Jeff on the school’s soccer team freshman year, getting high after practice together in Henry’s dorm. Henry had met Thomas in the library the week before mid-terms, stressing over his studies. Henry helped him unwind with a few hits from his bowl in the bathroom, and they had become the best of friends ever since. Aaron was the last one to be welcomed into Henry’s “Covenant of Cannabis” as he called it. Aaron had been dating a girl who got her weed from Henry. Eventually she introduced Aaron to Henry, and Henry introduced marijuana to Aaron. Aaron eventually dumped the girl, but never left Henry or his hemp. Together they had invested in an eco-friendly house off campus where they could live, study, and smoke all they wanted. Eco-friendly of course, because the government not only wanted to deplete college students of their minds and their happiness, but it also wanted to drain mother earth dry to feed its corrupt hunger.
“Dude, Parson’s voice sounds so funny right now, it’s reverberating like crazy,” Jeff said, inquiring to see if his friends were hearing the same thing.
‘It just makes so much sense,” Henry stated. “His words just flow into my head like running water. I don’t even think I have to be awake right now to learn what he’s saying.”
“Woah, the notes I’m taking don’t even look like real words. It’s like hieroglyphics, or cuneiform, but I still know exactly what I’m writing.” Thomas’s statement was a little loud, and some of the other students chuckled. Even after 3 years of smoking, Thomas still could not fully contain himself while high.
“Shush, control yourself Tom, people will hear you,” Henry commanded.
“Wow, guys look at Brittany, she looks so hot right now, plus she’s like, I dunno, glowing. She’s beautiful don’t you think?”
“Aaron, don’t even bother, she buys weed from me to get high with her huge jock boyfriend. She only talks to us because we supply her,” Henry whispered.
“Quiet down,” boomed Thomas, blushing after realizing how loud he had been, “I’m not getting what Parsons is saying.”

“Calm down Tom, who ever understands what Parsons says, that’s why he’s the head of the philosophy department. The other professors just get confused and assume that everything he says is profound. Just imagine how lost we’d be if we weren’t high?”
“Good point Henry,” Jeff added.
“Wait, why did we waste the weed for this class? Do we really need to know philosophy? We’ve got ecology next, and by then we’ll already be coming down.”
“Aaron, relax, I’ve got some papers and a small stash on me. We can smoke up in the third floor bathroom. No one ever goes in there. Just chill man,” Henry whispered.
The four stopped talking, realizing that silence had taken over the room. Dr Parsons had asked a question and as usual the class would fall silent and unresponsive.
“Anyone, can anyone answer my question? No one? Did any of you even read the last chapter in the book?”
“Dr. Parsons,” Henry interjected, “If you had posted the reading online we would have been glad to read the chapter, but as you know, my friends and I are against the wasteful practices of paper making. Since this is Philosophy and Ethics, I’m sure you can understand how we believe it is unethical to cut down forests when the same material can be read electronically instead of being frivolously printed on hundreds of pieces of paper.”
Acknowledging Henry’s suggestion Dr Parsons replied, “If that’s how you truly feel I will try to post your readings online from now on. However this does bring up an interesting point.” Turning his attention to the class as a whole Dr. Parsons continued, “The ethics of one person may differ from those of another. This means that even the universal theories we discussed earlier may be interpreted differently. Therefore one can’t help but question, is any ethical theory actually universal? If we look into Aristotle’s theory, ‘doing those things that make us better as people’, we see that…”-
“Nice one Henry,” Thomas whispered, “I couldn’t have come up with a better excuse if I had a week to think about it.”
“Thanks, I try. He really should post this stuff online though. I mean really, I hate how colleges encourage students to buy books full of pages they’re not even going to read. The system really is messed up, but when we get out of here we’ll fix things. Our generation is gonna bring real change.”
The class wore on while the four friends talked amongst themselves. Occasionally one of them would make an unusual observation resulting in a few short stifled giggles. By the time class had come to an end, Henry, Aaron, Jeff, and Thomas had started to come down from their high. As planned they strode up to the third floor bathroom. Their eyes were focused, unreceptive of the looks of disapproval of those who knew exactly what their mission was. The four knew it wasn’t the fault of those people for not understanding the importance of their activities. It was the government, the culture that told those poor souls that marijuana was bad. The horrible misconceptions that were spread about it being a gateway drug, leading to laziness, causing addiction, and doing harm to the users brain, all wrong of course. It was people with poor character to begin with that misused marijuana that gave the drug a bad name.
Henry took the first hit off of the freshly rolled joint. He slowly inhaled, smiled, then passed it around, each one of them taking their turn with a religious level of reverence. When every last puff had been had, Henry flushed the remnants down the toilet and the four floated back down to their next class together.
When class finally ended, Henry led the way back to his pale blue mini van which sat decorated in rust in the student parking lot. Henry drove the short distance back to their house as Jeff rolled another joint to smoke on the way. The van coughed every time Henry pressed down on the accelerator and smoke would pour out of the exhaust pipe. Henry could afford a better car with the money he made selling weed, but he didn’t want to be too obvious. The government hated it when young kids earn themselves nice things. Plus most of his profits had to go into paying off the house, the electric, and the water bills to maintain the lamps and water for the plants he grew in the basement. Henry had hoped to be able to make enough money to start paying off his loans as well, but his parents had been taking care of it so far, and there was no immediate need to worry about that.
As Henry turned down their street Jeff coughed out an alarmed shout, “Holy shit man, someone’s breaking into our house!”
Henry stomped on the gas and the van lurched forward, sputtering in opposition to its driver’s command. Henry pressed harder but the old gas lines could not pump gas fast enough and the engine choked out. They coasted along with some speed as they watched in horror as two men, about their same age, tossed plants into the trunk of their car. The van slowed to a stop and Henry leapt from his seat sprinting down the remainder of the street, closely followed by the other three. The two thieves threw the last plant into their car, and began to back out of the driveway, Henry was closing in, but breathing was becoming difficult. His lungs burned and his head began to spin. Jeff, Aaron, and Tom had already fallen behind him, panting in agony, hoping that Henry would make it even though they couldn’t keep running.
“Call the cops!” Thomas screamed as Henry careened his way in front of their drive way, blocking the path of the thieves’ car. The car did not stop, it just swerved around Henry as he was bent over in exhaustion with one lone outstretched arm uselessly pleading for the perpetrators to stop.
“Thanks for the weed assholes,” yelled one of the two men as they drove off.
“Call the cops man, I saw their license plates, call the cops,” Thomas pleaded.
“Call the cops? Call the cops? And tell them what, our marijuana plants were stolen?” wheezed Henry.
“Well, what can we do?” Jeff asked.
Aaron, paying no more attention to the others interrupted, “I think we should call the fire department guys.”
“Aaron, if the cops aren’t going to do anything what can the fire department do?” Henry retorted.
“Well they can stop the smoke that’s coming from a fire in the basement.”
“What?” Henry and the others turned back to the house to see smoke bellowing out of the basement windows.
“Those fuckers, those mother fucking rat bastards. Those degenerate low life potheads!” screamed Henry. “They must’ve knocked over one of the UV lamps, those fucking pieces of shit! Couldn’t they just grow their own fucking weed? What kind of lazy assholes steal another person’s plants?”
“Henry, calm down, we have to try to put the fire out,” Jeff interrupted.
“Its too late, look, its already burning the upper floor, if we put it out now they’ll be able to tell that it was the lamps that started it, and then they’ll search the rest of the house, and they’ll charge us with possession. We have to let it burn,” Henry sobbed, tears flowing from his eyes.
“But we don’t have any insurance,” Thomas added, “All the money we put into this house will go down the drain.”
“You wanna go to jail? Forget money, I’m not going to prison, not for something that shouldn’t even be illegal,” Henry said.
“All our stuff is in there, they only stole our plants, everything else that we own is still in there,” Aaron pleaded.
“What, you’re going to run in there and risk being burned alive for a lousy laptop, or pictures of your girlfriend, none of us had anything of real value in there besides those plants. Why do you think that’s all they took?”
“Henry, please, we can still save the house. Where are we going to live if we let it burn anyway? We have to do something,” Thomas pleaded.
“Oh, fuck you Henry,” Jeff muttered, as he Aaron and Tom ran to the house, grabbing a garden hose that had been sitting in front of the house ever since they bought it, and turned on the water. Little pin holes of water shot from breaks in the old, unused hose, and the stream coming out of the end was weak. Jeff kicked in the basement window, spraying what water he could into the basement as smoke spewed out.
Henry just stood there speechless, watching as everything he had made for himself was being devoured by flames. He watched as his friends fought in vain to stop the rise of the fire. Henry couldn’t take it anymore, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, grimly dialing 911.
The fire trucks came in no time at all, and they quickly extinguished the fire. Soon after the police arrived and began questioning the four friends.
“Boys, do any of you know how the fire was started?” asked on of the officers.
“Well, uhm, you see sir, I must have left the oven on, and uhm…”-
“Tom, there’s no point in lying now,” Henry interrupted, “Sir, we had been growing marijuana in our basement, and some kids broke into our house and stole all our plants, and knocked over one of the UV lamps which started the fire. I was the one growing it, the other guys had no part in it, you can arrest me for possession.”
“Son, as far as we’re concerned, there was no marijuana present, you seemed to be an avid botanist, and anything further we don’t want to know about. However those fellows who supposedly robbed you, they were caught just up the road from here. Your neighbor across the street just so happens to be the mayor of our nice little town, he was home having lunch with his wife when he saw the two suspects break in. We arrested them just up the street from here and confiscated all the contraband plants they had in their car. As far as we’re concerned they broke into your house on their way back from scoring some plants, and finding nothing of value they left, knocking over one of your lamps and starting the fire.”
“Sir, why are you being so nice, I admitted I had had marijuana and was growing it in my basement?”
“Son, I wasn’t always an old man in a blue uniform. When I was your age it was the 60’s, you think what you had was bad, in my day people had fields of the stuff. I know it seems like the laws are against you, but really we don’t care about a little weed here or there. What do you think we do with the stuff we confiscate? The government really isn’t as against marijuana as you think, I mean look at our past couple of Presidents. We’re all just doing the best we can, and what we really want is just to make sure your generation doesn’t make the same mistakes as ours did. We’re not completely insensitive you know. Your house was broken into and almost burned to the ground, that’s a pretty scary thing to have to deal with, the last thing you need right now is some big scary police officer yelling down your throat.”
“So you’re not going to charge us with possession?” Henry asked in astonishment.
“Possession of what, cheap old clothing, and some psychedelic posters, cause that’s pretty much all you had in there? Son, I said, don’t worry about it. If we wanted to take you down for it we would have a while ago. Everyone knew what you were doing, but for the most part you guys were harmless about it, your neighbors never complained so there was no real problem.”
“Dude, I am freaking out, the cop is acting nice right now, I think I’m going crazy,” Tom whispered to Henry.
“Its ok, he is being nice, we got lucky I guess,” Henry replied.
“Alright boys, I believe we have enough for our report, you take care now, and if you need any help fixing the place up just give me a call down at the station. Me and the guys do odd jobs on the side just to make a few extra bucks, but we’d be glad to help you guys get your place back together.”
With the fire out, and the reports finished, the fire department, and police left, declaring the house still habitable. The four walked inside and sat down in their living room, which had a few scorch marks, but otherwise was left undamaged.
“I can’t believe all that just happened, I really need to get high right now,” Jeff said sinking into an ash covered chair.
“I don’t think you do Jeff, I don’t think any of us do, I mean what’s the point?”
“Henry, it feels good, it relaxes us, if we need anything right now, we need to relax,” Jeff replied.
Henry sat in confusion. All he had believed to be true was crumbling beneath him. The great evil he perceived to be the government wasn’t all that evil after all. All his efforts against his adversary were meaningless. He had achieved no greater good; he had just been shadow boxing an imaginary foe for the last few years of his life.
Jeff rolled another joint, and they sat, smoking, taking in their chemical escape, while their bodies sat confined to their chairs as the cycle was repeated until the last hit had been taken. They sat, waiting for all the stress to go away, but still there it sat with them. All they could feel was nothing, all that they were was nothing.

An Interview

An Interview
by Andrew Moravick

John: Where am I?

Man in White: Well my friend, you are here of course.

Man in Black: It’s a small office building in Wisconsin.

John: Oh

Man in White: I apologize; my counterpart here enjoys trying to take the fun out of everything I say.

John: So why am I here?

Man in White: Everyone always seems to ask that question. Well of course you’re here because-

Man in Black: It’s an interview… of sorts, does that suffice?

John: An interview? I have a job already, I didn’t ask for an interview. How’d I get here anyway?

Man in White: Does it really matter how you got here? You are here, and here isn’t all that bad, so why worry?

Man in Black: I had some of my associates sequester you in your sleep and spirit you away safely situated in my personal jet; hence the pajamas.

John: Oh… Wait, why would you kidnap me for an interview?

Man in White: It’s not kidnapping as much as forcefully honoring ourselves with your presence.
You see we need your unique opinion because you have a special gift.

Man in Black: Yes, some special gift, sorry son, but it seems that you have been blessed to be sublimely simple. You sir are the most average person existing on the surface of the earth at this very second.

John: Hey! I’m not average! I have a wife, two kids, a decent paying job and a nice little house in the suburbs. That’s not average is it?

Man in Black: My sad simpleton seems you have answered your own question.

Man in White: Forget about that my friend, because of your gift; you represent the average tastes of every person alive today. So what we would like to see is which company you would rather work for.

John: Couldn’t you just take a poll or something to do that?

Man in White: One of my branches has been attempting that for a while, going door to door and such, but no one likes to let them in to talk, and often times they end up dealing with some of my other affiliates by mistake.

John: Ah. So you want to see whose company I’d rather work for, but you’re not actually offering me a job?

Man in White: That’s correct.

John: So why didn’t you just call me, I could’ve done a phone interview?

Man in White: That wouldn’t have worked my friend, because of my opposition’s over zealous advertising tactics; you would have just dismissed us as telemarketers.

Man in Black: Yes, of course, those tasteless telemarketers are mine, but those sorry souls aren’t half as bad as those self-righteous televange-

Man in White: Anyway, allow us to present our cases. My company, a moral, just, and upstanding institution offers a rewarding environment where you know that all that you do is for the good of others. Plus my company offers the best retirement plan one can imagine.

Man in Black: Rewards, that’s rich. Son it seems as if its success and satisfaction which you seek. My establishment supplies its employees with unsanctioned opportunities. Anything you desire shall be yours. It is my belief that all the sensations of a person should be stimulated to inspire the highest level of efficiency. My institution is based on results, and at this very second over sixty six point six percent of all other companies are affiliated with me in some sort.

John: That’s it? You brought me all the way out here for that! You want me to choose between a company whose spokesperson is incredibly vague and idealistic, and a guy who hisses as he pitches a company that sounds like hell. I can’t believe either of you! I want to go home!

Man in White: As you wish.

Man in Black: That’s it, I used my special jet to speed him out here, and in an instant you just send him straight home.

Man in White: Well if you weren’t hissing with all your unnecessary words with S sounds he probably wouldn’t be so scared off.

Man in Black: I’ve sincerely strived to cease speaking in such a serpentine manner, but it’s just so hard when that’s been my thing for thousands and thousands of years. Oh but splendid stuff on your presentation. No one ever seems to understand a single word you say.

Man in White: Well I can’t make them understand, it’s all up to them.

Man in Black: Yes well suddenly I’m sick of this business, I’m going back to hell; seems the place has seen a massive increase of occupants as of late, and their misery demands my company.

The Look (Short Story)

The Look
By Andrew Moravick


She looked at me. I can’t believe she looked at me! She couldn’t have possibly been looking at me. Is there some other jock sitting behind me or something? Should I look back at her? No she’d probably be offended or think I was some kind of pervert or something. Wait is something wrong with me? Do I have like a huge zit or a cowlick or something? Are my glasses off center on my face? The look wasn’t of disgust though. I mean her eyes were gentle and kind. There was no hint of, “your tag is hanging out,” or “you have a booger hanging out of your nose.” It was almost as if she might like me. Why would she like me though? I just answered the last couple of questions correctly, that’s nothing impressive. Anyway she’s the kind of girl that gives those kinds of looks to the frat boys, and athletes, not guys like me. She probably doesn’t even know my name. Most people here don’t. In all the classes before this she’s never looked at me. What would make her look at me? Is she drunk? She did walk a little bit funny this morning, and her hair is kind of messy. Maybe she’s just drunk. That’s probably it, she does party a lot. Still why would she look at me when she’s drunk? You’re supposed to lose your inhibitions when you’re drunk, maybe she had a secret desire for me. Is it possible? No it couldn’t be could it. I’m still just a book worm. Plus, what would we talk about? I mean she never says anything in class, and seems more interested in her hair than any of our discussions. Then again her hair is beautiful. The blonde glow of it when the fluorescent light strikes it in just the night way is quite breathtaking. Perhaps she has a deep appreciation for aesthetic values. But if that’s true, and she does love beautiful things, why would she look at me? I’m 18 years old and I weigh 120 pounds. My skin is whiter than the ceiling tiles, and my hair more resembles a nesting place for birds than anything one should expect atop any remotely attractive person’s head. What’s so beautiful about me that would deserve her appreciation? Maybe it is just my intelligence. I mean brains can be sexy right? I do have the highest grade in the class, and sometimes I even correct the professor on certain things. Maybe that’s what she likes about me. I could after all recite several Shakespearian Sonnets to her from pure memorization, or speak to her in three different romance languages with perfect accents. Isn’t that sexy? I see it in the movies all the time where a guy just makes one clever turn of phrase and the woman is all his. I am way more clever than those movie characters anyway. If I can fire off a 10 page paper in two hours or less I think I can make one clever or provocative line. Maybe she knows that too, maybe that’s what she really wants? What kind of look was it though? It was definitely a nice look. I know that, but was it more of a “you look nice today I’m impressed,” sort of look, or maybe a “your last comment was very deep and inspiring” sort of look, but I know for sure it wasn’t a “damn you’re sexy I want to make love to you right now” sort of look. I don’t think I’ll ever get the “lovemaking” look, but anything is possible right? I mean some of the cretins here got in to college which I previously thought were impossible, and then likewise could it be so impossible that I could be sexy? I mean at least I’m not fat. Obesity is a huge problem, and I don’t think any attractive girl wants to settle for a fat guy. I do have abs, girls like abs. All the magazines girls read have somewhere in them some guy showing off his abs so in theory since I have abs I do have some physical sex appeal. Sure they aren’t all rock hard and so heavily defined but they’re there. When would she have seen my abs though? I mean for all she knows I have a pudge role tucked under all the sweatshirts and loose clothes I wear. Maybe that look was just her admiring my shirt. I am wearing a nice shirt today. My mom has good taste in clothing. Maybe I should wear more of the clothes she bought me for my birthday. I think the look she gave me was nicer than that though. There was a sort of fire in her eyes. Like there was some sort of connection she felt between us. Maybe some how we share the same wavelength of thought, and that’s why she might be attracted to me. Maybe tomorrow I should sit next to her so we can talk. I could even help her out in class. She hasn’t been doing very well. The professor at times seemed very frustrated with her for chatting with her friends in class. Wait maybe that’s not a good idea, she may like me but her friends don’t know me. They probably just think I’m a perve putting such an obvious move on her. Maybe that’s why she looked at me, she’s afraid of me. She thinks I’m one of those creepy friendless weirdoes who go crazy. Maybe the look was just supposed to be a nice gesture because she thought I might go crazy one day and that because of that nice look I wouldn’t hurt her. What a horrible thought. She should know I’m just a nice guy. I’m as friendly and caring as the best man she could meet. Probably more so. I have a great respect for women and all people for that matter. I would never do such an atrocious act. No she wouldn’t think that. Even though I sit alone at the cafeteria and don’t leave my room much I usually always have a smile on my face. I have no reason to be sad or angry I have a perfect 4.0 and in less than four years I’ll be enrolling at a top notch graduate school. Maybe that’s why she was looking at me. She knows how smart I am and knows I will be successful. A lot of girls do come to college looking for husbands, and I think I would be a good investment for any woman as a spouse. Would she really go that far in thinking about me though? I’ve never talked to her, how would she know I’m good husband material? Still the look she gave me did seem very kind. Maybe I should look up her number in the school directory and give her a call. Then I can really find out how she feels. No, I shouldn’t do that. If I do that it may seem like I’m stalking her, then if she did feel anything for me she’d be too frightened to talk to me. That would just ruin everything. Should I talk to her after class? That’s probably a good idea, a person to person meeting is much less bizarre, and since we're both taking the same class it’s not too out of the ordinary for two students to talk to one another. What would I say to her though? I mean I can’t really talk about what was discussed in class cause it really doesn’t seem like she’s paying attention. Plus if I talk about school she’ll probably find me uninteresting. Wait it is my mind she’d be attracted to. I mean what else could it be? So maybe a little intelligent conversation couldn’t hurt, but wait, if it’s the wrong topic she might not be interested anyway. That shouldn’t be a problem though, if I can figure out a quadruple variable calculus equation I can certainly figure out what I can talk to her about. Her appreciation for beauty could be a good topic. I do know a thing or two about fine art, and photography, that will probably interest her. Oh no, I can’t talk about art, that will seem overpoweringly gay, I don’t want to seem gay to her because then she’ll just think of me as her nice gay friend, even though I’m not gay. Then if she thinks I’m gay she’d probably tell other people and then I’ll get the reputation of being the quiet nerdy gay kid. I don’t want to be known as the gay kid when I’m not gay. Maybe I could offer her help in the class. That would be a good start, and then I’d have a reason to see her a lot too. Then maybe one thing will lead to another and I might even get to kiss her. I bet she’s a good kisser. She’d probably knock my socks off if we ever kissed. Wait, no that’s a bad idea too. If I offered her help she’d probably think I looked down on her, then she’d be intimidated or offended by me. I can’t risk that. What can I say to her? Does it even matter what I say? What would we do together; I’m sure she probably doesn’t enjoy studying, reading books and discussing them, or even watching the news. She is the kind of girl that wants excitement and real adventure. She doesn’t waste time on frivolous homework and worrying about every little score she gets. Perhaps that’s her strong point. She’s a philosopher. She probably understands the simplicity of life, and that existence in its entire splendor is only about enjoying the pleasurable things in life. Maybe I could learn a lot from her. She might be able to teach me how party, and make friends and live life to the fullest. The fire in her eyes did seem to be burning from deep within her being, maybe she could see how out of focus I am putting academics before myself. No, that couldn’t be it either; she would have said something before in class if she had such deep thoughts. Anyway I can’t risk living it up right now anyway. If I get good grades now and do well in graduate school I’ll get a high paying job, and then I’ll be able to live it up. Now I just have to focus. I’m sure she could respect my focus though. Maybe that’s what she is attracted to in me, my dedication to my studies. She probably knows how often I study and do work. I mean she never sees me at parties and whenever I’m eating in the cafeteria I’m still using my time for work. Maybe she thinks that if I’m that dedicated to my work than I will be equally dedicated to her. That is a very likely idea, girls I’ve talked to on the internet have always told me they love dedicated and honest guys. No, then again that can’t be it either, if girls were really into nice, honest, trustworthy, funny, and intelligent guys I would have at least had one date in my life by now. No, girls like those, tough macho guy types, who can drink an entire keg while bench pressing it at the same time. Why would she want to look at me then? I just can’t figure it out. I have a 4.o, I’m in all honors courses, and I can’t figure out why a girl would look at me.

What’s wrong with me? Am I getting stupider? Maybe that drink I had the first night here is doing this to me. Alcohol does kill brain cells, and I did drink a whole can of beer. Why did I give in to the peer pressure that night? Did I really think drinking would help me to make friends? It was a stupid idea. Plus all the guys there just laughed at me because it took me an hour or so to drink the whole thing. I don’t know how they drink all the beer that they do, the stuff tastes like nothing anyone in their right mind would enjoy drinking. Perhaps that will happen to me, the alcohol from the drink has killed some crucial cells in my brain, and now my brain is decaying. I do have Alzheimer’s disease in my family; maybe the alcohol set it off. I don’t want to lose my memory. I’ve learned too much to let it all go to waste. Wait that’s absurd, one beer won’t trash my brain. I’ve read studies where alcohol in moderation is actually good for you. What was I thinking?

Oh no, maybe that’s why she was looking at me. Word may have traveled of my failed attempt to drink and she was looking at me thinking, “that’s the guy who couldn’t handle one beer.” Her eyes did seem somewhat light, almost as if they were laughing at me. That’s probably why she glanced at me. Still I do have a better GPA than her. She can laugh and stare all she wants, I’ll be the success while she’s stuck in some do nothing job.

Wait no, that can’t be it, and what a mean thing for me to think. There are guys who don’t drink at all who still get girls. Sure, they do sports or something like that, but drinking really isn’t everything. Besides she would have probably made the connection a long time ago. The semester is almost over, and word travels fast here. She’s probably never even heard about that night. Maybe she’s impressed that I don’t drink. I have made it known that I’ve tried it, and it isn’t anything I really enjoy, or feel the need to do. Maybe she shares that idea and is looking for someone else she can be with who doesn’t drink. I know of some people here who hang out with people who drink, but still don’t drink themselves. Maybe she’s one of them. If she is that’s a very respectable thing. I mean to resist peer pressure every night and hold fast to your convictions is very hard to do. I can’t even study every night, sometimes I have to turn on the TV and watch a comedy or some mind numbing program. She must have the spirit of a saint. Oh no, that can’t be right either, I remember she was very much drunk one night and came to visit one of the guys on my floor. You don’t get that trashed if you’ve got that strong of convictions.

What am I doing? I’m losing class participation points by zoning out. Half the class has already gone by and I’ve only contributed a few answers. I can’t keep perfect grades by slacking off in such a frivolous manner. Then again I shouldn’t be selfish. I probably have enough points to not say a word for every class after this and still get an A. If I can’t figure out this simple question of why she would look at me, how can I hope to do anything else?

Female behavior is so strange and hard to understand. I know all about the whole playing hard to get game, and how some girls will pretend not to be interested and somehow one is supposed to find minute clues that a girl will give to let a suitor know she really is interested. Maybe her look at me was a clue. Perhaps it’s just the starting point for the whole hard-to-get game. Such a game seems to be based on tactics, logic, and reverse logic, and I do know all about such things. I should be able to do well at this game, and win her over.

Oh no, what if she’s just teasing me? Girls do that all the time too. They get some sort of pleasure out of playing with a man’s emotions. I do seem to be an easy target, and she was laughing and giggling with her friends shortly after the look. That’s probably it. I thought she was too pretty for me. What was I thinking that a girl like that could like me?

Wait a minute, if she was teasing me, she would have made some sort of gesture, or nod of the head toward me after the look to say to her friends, “what a loser.” She made no such move, and I know when people are talking about me or making fun of me. I’ve put up with it all my life and she wasn’t making fun of me. Girls have teased me like that before, but it’s always been much much more overt, and obvious.

One girl I remember dropped her pen right in front of me and bent down to pick it up rubbing her back side on me as she reached down. That was very awkward for me because I didn’t want to look like a pervert and I didn’t want to stare or enjoy it, but I did, and I blushed a bit, and all her friends just started to point and laugh.

No this was no tease. I would have to be humiliated some how for it to be a successful tease. Maybe she did want help with her homework. Maybe she even thought if she gave me a seductive look I’d be so desperate for a girl that I would easily turn to mush for her and do her homework and help her write papers, and in essence be her personal slave. I’ve had girls try that on me before. Like a fool I went a long with it, thinking that they did like me or something, and I obsessed on and on about them until I realized what they were doing to me. I won’t let a girl have that sort of effect on me again. No that can’t be it either. If she wanted a home work slave she’d have asked me much earlier. Now is no logical time to start asking for such a favor. It’s too late for any of my help to really make a difference in her grade. Plus I really don’t think she cares that much about this class. Maybe she knew me from somewhere. I do have a kind of familiar face. People mistake me for other people they know all the time. Maybe somehow my face triggered something in her mind and she just wanted to get another look at me to figure out if I was the person she knew or not. No, that can’t be it; she would have made an association like that a lot earlier. The brain just doesn’t put things together that slowly. Plus she seems like the type who if she thought she knew you, she’d come right up to your face and ask you.

Was she looking at me though, or was it my laptop? Maybe she just thought I have a cool computer. That is understandable it is top of the line, and designed to withstand all the rigors of usage by college students. No, it isn’t that either. She was definitely looking directly at my eyes.
I can’t help but admire her though. She is so beautiful even though she looks like she just came in here directly from bed. I think I may lose myself in those deep blue eyes of her’s. I hope she doesn’t notice me staring. I don’t think she will though, she’s just staring up at the ceiling now. I wonder what she’s thinking, maybe she’s dreaming of me, looking up at the ceiling just to be coy. Oh no, she looked back over at me, what should I do, I’ll just be coy too, I’ll look out the window, on the other side of me, just as if I was looking around the whole room. It is a beautiful day out anyway.

Fallen

Fallen
By Andrew Moravick

Foolishly frivolous fraught with futility
Life has become. Death deviously grins
Killing not only us with effortless continuity,
But also our minds in our stupefying sins.

Destructive distractions divert our attention
Away from our inner potential. We are lost
In insignificant enjoyments. Our one intention
Is to please ourselves at our own soul’s cost.

Stubbornly suicidal, society sells its sustenance
To succeed. Abandoned have we our intellect
And as animals we breed. We are in a trance,
Hypnotized so our own purposes we reject.

So far have we fallen from an intellectual stage,
Oblivious to our ignorance, this is our darkest age!

Can An Ethical Economy Exist?

Economy, directly translated means the study of scarcity. That is in essence what economies do; distribute resources in a manner in which the most people can benefit within the constraints of a scarcity of resources. The two most commonly understood economic systems are communism and capitalism, neither of which is perfect by any means, but both of which attempt to meet the needs of the people in an ethical manner. Communism attempts to give everyone an equal footing, where the government is supposed to distribute the wealth and resources equally. The problem with communism however is that it eliminates competition, which is a deeply rooted aspect of human nature, and so those who have a greater ability to compete are more limited and in a way repressed. On the other end of the spectrum is capitalism which is based on that deep rooted tendency to compete. In capitalism everyone must compete to provide for the needs of others to profit enough to provide for their own needs. The problem here comes when competition becomes unfair, dirty or corrupt; the people who succeed may do so by oppressing others, in a sense cheating. Both repression of human nature, and allowing others to benefit from the misfortune of others are in theory unethical, and so it would seem from the very beginning that the most dominant or well known economies are not morally sound.
So if modern economies are not ethical, what could be a solution? Well I suggest that the developments of economies were ethical in the beginning, when there was a true scarcity, and by scarcity I mean a limited amount of resources available to all people. Long ago, when mankind was still developing agriculture there was no real means to feed people on a large scale, and so means of distribution were needed. Now however the means to feed all people on a large scale, but the problem now lies with distribution. In America for example, the average person eats around 20 times as much per week as a person from the developing world. The people in the developing world still survive at their much lower level of consumption, leading more active lifestyles, while Americans live for the most part much more sedentary lifestyles. Americans in fact do not need to consume as much as we do and in a sense we are hoarding our resources. The top economists say we are a trillion or more dollars in debt; however we have more natural resources than any other country in the world. Our debt is why we justify the theoretical hoarding of our resources, suggesting that we can not afford to distribute our resources more fairly globally because we are in debt ourselves. However this stems from a mistaken assumption that currency is a resource. It makes sense because it takes money to acquire any other resource and for the person receiving the money to provide that resource, they must use money to gain other resources and so on.
If you step back and look at economies today, keeping the idea of meeting the needs of the people in mind, most fail miserably in performing that primary function. In capitalism, the money is not equally distributed and therefore the resources are not equally distributed. In communism, the equal distribution depends on the purity of the government, and with communist governments having such extreme centralized authority corruption, megalomania, or other disruptive human traits easily entangle themselves and so that system fails as well. So what can be done? If resources are not being distributed fairly, and current systems are not working what can be done?
The answer is simple, yet drastic, any child has thought about it when feeling a need. The child may be hungry in a store, and want a candy bar; not knowing it must be paid for. To the child, there are plenty of candy bars, they’re available, he wants one, and he should just be able to have one. Adults of course know that the candy bar company can’t afford to allow that, since they must make money to be able to make the candy bars. The child’s idea though, is actually brilliant if looked at with an open mind. If money were removed, and the resources which all people needed were available to people without penalty there wouldn’t be economic chaos, a rapture, or whatever most faithful financiers would suggest. Those who provide goods and services could continue to do so because all goods would be available, profit would not be necessary to allow a person to provide for themselves. Instead people would work to provide for themselves and everyone else using the technology which allows few people to produce large quantities of supplies. Yes Bankers, insurance agents, accountants, and all jobs associated with the handling of currency would be lost, however in the scheme of things these jobs are for the most part trivial in contributing to the wellbeing of society. They do take care of people’s money, but currency really isn’t a natural need of a human being. Those people however wouldn’t need to make money anyway so it wouldn’t really be that great of a loss. The problem of course with this more ethical system is that it depends on the good will of all people. Goods and services would not be done for personal gain, but based on the simple understanding that it must be done to provide for others. People would still be able to choose their work of course, but they would have to be rewarded by understanding that their actions are helping others and that their good acts are rewarded by others performing good acts. The most successful people would not be the most financially savvy, but the people who can help and contribute to the lives of others the best because others will wish to do the same for them. This ideal economy I fear however could only exist in an ideal world, there could be no jealousy, no envy, and no hatred between other people that would divide, and shift the distribution of resources. Maybe education could be the answer to this, and in a world like that education would be free, therefore available to everyone, and so reason, logic, and understanding could intervene and allow all people to understand the futility of negative behavior. It is just a dream I suppose, but then again, isn’t that how most great revolutions and advancements begin?

A Reflection

A Reflection
By Andrew Moravick

In water’s wetted restless reflection myself I see,
Yet you, the onshore onlooker be,
I, imperfect, broken by ripples and wind will appear,
While you watch with vision uncorrupt and clear.
Yet if of you we are and be you uncorrupt,
Why than we, images of you, so easy to disrupt?
Why water’s waves which wander from your whispered word,
Tear us and taint us, your image broken and blurred,
While we must wage war ‘gainst waves with which disruption come,
Obstacles obscuring your image, yet from you this obscurity is from?
Be it test or tempest to try our mortal soul,
To galvanize our parts to be unbreakable when made whole?
Why shade you the sun so we you can not see,
And unseeing of you blind to ourselves we be?
Why warm you the water which dries up the depths,
Beaching us, breaking us draining us of our breaths?
Shackled to you, my shore mounted master I’m a slave,
I would rise to rebel from bondage were I too brave.
Had I the power to you subdue what good would it do,
If my life and power is produced from you?
If I remove you from looking on your reflective sea,
Than I remove myself for you I am and you are me.
For as a reflection I prove to you your existence,
Just as your image gives me my life’s persistence.
If you did not exist than neither would I,
But if I did not exist would you also die?

A New Direction

The first two weeks of 08 have passed, and so far, my mission to use my blog as a place to encourage the consideration of world peace isn't going as well as I'd hoped. Also, the depressing thoughts that come along with considering was to accomplish world peace are incredibly taxing on my young mind. I remember it was about 8 years or so ago, when the world seemed beautiful, wondrous, and the people within it I held to be generally good natured. Everything I believed had a level of purity, innocence, and value. Going from that state of mind to one that must consider the greatest hardships people must endure, visualizing the horrors some people must see everyday in war torn nations, I must admit is painful just to think about. Maybe, perhaps this is another reason why we may not want to think about working toward peace, we try to think of other, more pleasant things besides war, the dark side of human nature, and the bloody violence associated with all that. If I could get more contributions, stories from other people, something so that I don't feel like I must bear the weight myself. I'd much rather explore the good parts of human nature, the wonderful mysteries of existence, and maybe get into a humorous post every now and again. Maybe someday, when I've experienced more, develop a larger audience, and am more eloquent in my writing I can return to this effort and have a greater influence.

I will of course be open to invitations of others to discuss the possibilities of peace at anytime here on my blog, however my focus for now will return to other philosophic or literary topics. Hopefully though, those of you who do read my writings will enjoy my poems and other philosophies as well. Writing I believe is my greatest talent, whether god given, luck, natural ability, or the benefit of a decent education, writing is my gift which I wish to share, and I hope a gift that others may enjoy.

Small Victories

This weekend I was fortunate enough to be visited by my sister who is now living on her own in another state. I began to discuss with her, as I do with anyone willing to do the same, my ideas about moving toward peace and a general improvement on the quality of life world wide. The discussion became a debate as it usually does, with her stressing views she had developed from three extra years of experience in this world, and me countering with my idealistic, and philosophical understandings. Her most valid and powerful argument was my lack of perspective based on being so well off in life. This did frazzle me a bit, because how could I argue against that, I am fortunate to have a loving stable family who cares for me deeply. To that point I had to submit, because who could argue that, however I was able to produce an interesting counter point. “The biggest problem,” she said, “was that people in cultures or social structures where drugs, crime, poor education, or other oppressive conditions exist, are not able to change their minds, [learning to value all human life] until their needs are met and they are delivered from their oppression.” I could also not deny this statement, there are great injustices occurring in this world which perpetuate violence. However, these injustices are result of human actions, and human action arguably is always governed by the mind, since to create a policy or make a command that action must be described in language, and the mind must at least organize that language. Therefore a change which could stop the injustices could be made by a change of the mind. This is where I was able to make my most valid argument, I, even though I am fortunate, have no means to meet the needs of the people who suffer under injustices, however I do have the potential to change the minds of those who are committing the injustices. I argued that such an idealistic view was beneficial, because I was doing what I could to work for change. I could change some people’s minds, or rally other people together to get the ball rolling, so even though I am not able to share the same point of view of those who are oppressed I can still help to work toward stopping the injustice resulting in their oppression.
This concept of doing what one can I think may be the biggest step in moving toward peace and unity between all people. Everyone has the potential to do good, and trying to realize that potential and use it may seem like a small step, since everyone has a different ability or potential, and so this is an individual based process, but the small victories, whatever they may be, that lead us toward abandoning our hateful and brutal actions toward our fellow people, are momentous accomplishments.
A final parting thought to leave you with, just think of the role you may play in the whole goings on in the universe. You may think that your whole existence really may not account for anything, but if you think about it, one day you may have said something, maybe expressed an idea of yours, and another person heard it and took it to heart, then maybe added their own ideas to that thought, then shared it with someone else. Someday that message may reach the ears of someone who can actually make the change, but because you were a part of that chain, you mattered. So in seeking purpose and meaning in life, maybe just trying to do what you can, and take part in something that will improve existence for even a small number of people, can give you more meaning or more purpose than any of the most influential people who are remembered throughout the ages.

Build a Better Platform

A good President builds him or herself upon a solid platform. The issues that are fought for are the things that will make life better for us all, and are actually relavant. Today however, the issues pressed upon Presidential candidates are pathetic and a massive insult to the intelligence of our nation. Those degenerative, platform rotting issues of course are abortion and gay marriage. Two so called problems, that every potential voter has heard about, but issues that only truly effect a fraction of the nation.

First of all I will address abortion. The issue is touchy, lives are at at stake and it is a serious ethical dilema. However, the lives involved are not even close to the majority of Americans. Abortion is also touchy, because it can't be universalized, there are times when it could be considered an abomination, and other times when it is necessary and serves a great good. Ethically speacking however there is one thing that I agrue is undeniable about abortion; according to John Steward Mill's theory of Utilitarianism, a president should seek the greatest good for the greatest number, focusing on abortion does not fit this requirement. Yes a President should value life, but also he or she should understand that extreme circumstances may arise where some things must be done. Personally I'd much rather have a President concerned with increasing diplomatic relationships with other countries, than one worried about the annals of unplanned pregnancy. Abortion is an issue, but not one a President should be worried about, let the sceintists, doctors, and women decide about abortion, the president's job is to lead, not endlessly debate ethics.

Secondly, there is the preposterous platform of gay marriage. THis should not even be an issue. What two people in love do is their business. In the chaotic hateful world that we live in today we should encourage any love that two mature, sound minded people may share. The President shouldn't have to come between love, and should not have to pander to right wing conservatives who are attempting to force their beliefs on the nation. As I have said before, the fundimental act that is universally unethical is to force one's will on another who is unreceptive to it. Yes it is fien if a person or a group does not believe that homesexuality is a morally acceptable lifestyle, but there are others who believe it is, and homosexuals do not go around forcing others to be homosexual, they respect the choice of heterosexuals to live as they want. No conservative bible thumping evangalist would argue against "treating thy neighbor as thyself." Therefore gay marriage is not an issue a president should waste their time with, it should be allowed because all people deserve the right to life, liberty and the persuit of happines, and THAT IS SOMETHING THE PRESIDENT SHOULD BE CONCERNED WITH.

If I could be so fortunate to have any of this year's presidential candidates read this, I would emplore them, focus not on those media pushed issues, but on those you believe to be the most beneficial to America, and the world as a whole. If your platform is based on those issues, you can not fail, even if you are not elected you will spread awareness, and get the ball rolling on the issue which you are most passionate about. Look at Al Gore, sure he lost the election, but he ended up with a Nobel Prize for the issue he was most passionate about.

Could You Spare Some Change?

All too often in my life I have so much free time on my hands, and I can't help but think, "what is so horribly wrong with humanity?" We act so strangely toward one another, trying to love some, hate others, and exploit who ever we can along the way to make our lives that much better. People regularly ask, "what will I get out of this," before doing any task. We are so self oriented as a species it seems almost impossible to believe in peace and goodness among people because even if hate were removed, people would still hurt each other. Some of the most deplorable acts can occur with no malice, or hate, but simply a person's desire to benefit individually over another. Even when people join together, united by a similar cause, the reason they are united isn't because they all desire the same thing for themselves and those whom they've joined, they just want the goal for themselves. If these people could accomplish their goal individually they would, but it is the necessity of others that makes them band together.

So then how can I ever hope for peace if people are just inherrently bad? Well for the most part we are bad, self serving, ignorant characters. Even the best of us are vulnerable to lowering ourselves to this pathetic level. However we humans may be creatures of habit, but we are also creatures of change. Trends come and go, and we follow them, shape our lives to what we may believe to be popular, then once the next fad rolls around, we change all over again. What if appreciation for fellow human beings were made into a fad, a trend, the "cool" thing to do? And what if as a trend it lasted, and became a social norm. Then we wouldn't be so deplorable after all.

SO what would be the best way to get this trend going? How can we change our habits, because after all at times it can feel good to hate, be agressive, make gains at another person's expense? Well if the true value of each human life were known and made clear, that each person has the potential to improve the lives of every other person on this planet, then maybe those people we hate, or look to take advantage start to look better, and more valuable, holding everyone to be as important as we value ourselves to be. Peace is not something that can be won with conservatism, our old ways have lead us to war, and change is what may bring about peace, but we have to want it. We have to take the problem seriously, and make the change happen.

The Misunderstood Enjoyment of Violence

In our culture it is undeniable that violence is entertaining and enjoyed by the masses. Our movies, sports, and overall entertainment all appeal to some primal enjoyment of violence. One could argue, as many have; that humans are a violent species, and it is simply in our nature. This assumption I also believe to be true- to a point. Violence wouldn’t be enjoyed if it wasn’t programmed into us, its illogical, and makes no appeal to our reason. Therefore violence must be instinct. However the degree to which it is instinct is what I’d like to explore.

TO better understand our own instincts we need only look at nature to discover the root of our primal urges. If we look at animal offspring for example, one might observe that some animal species, lion cubs, wolf pups, and other juvenile animals may appear to be incredibly violent toward one another. This would illustrate where our violent urges may come from, however I believe it goes a little deeper. After all what the pups, cubs or juveniles are doing is not trying to harm one another, but merely playing, they are training and preparing each other for the hardships of life. Humans no doubt probably share that playful instinct, and yet as a society we do not allow children to be so physical. We instead shove video games in front of them, or they desire video games on their own. The most popular videogames of course are the ones with violent actions, thus replacing the playful learning structure that was instinctive. So now our society, not learning the purpose of violence, such as play fighting, sports, or even healthy competition, which is at the root of play and learning, is maladjusted, and easily aggravated. All the aggression that should be vented in play, physical activity, or natural development, is stored up, and only released in harmfully violent outbursts.

This trend I have only observed for Americans, however it does explain a part of human nature. The idea that violence deserves retaliatory violence, when one is struck, one must always strike back. You see it on the streets, when one individual offends another, and an apology would suffice, violence is instead the resort. When America was attacked on September 11th, the blow was so great, and perpetrated by so few, we wanted to retaliate and cause an equal amount of devastation to our attackers. The science of vengeance is not an exact one however, and our violent retaliation only angered more people, not settling the score, but developing more violence. When we dropped those bombs on Afghanistan, and Iraq, there was a social enjoyment, why else would the media cover it so vigorously, and show all the videos they could of the attacks. Our violence fetish, as it were, seems to override our logic. Yes we were attacked, a great injustice was perpetrated, something must be done to correct and punish those responsible, but not by perpetrating another injustice. As I have stated in my previous posts, my fundamental theory describing what is universally immoral, forcing one’s will on another who is unreceptive of it, is the driving force behind all immoral activity. The extremists will was that we were a great evil, and deserved to die, they forced that will on the victims of 911, but then what did we do? The retaliation against Afghanistan may have been justified, the Taliban claimed responsibility and therefore reaped what they sewed by attacking us. It was after this however, when we made it our business to judge who was a terrorist, and who was a freedom fighter, and punish those we judged immoral, forcing our will upon them, when we over stepped our bounds, and increased the unnecessary level of violence in this world.

In conclusion violence is a part of our nature, war is not. It is not immoral to fight when both parties are on equal terms, and understand the consequences of their actions. This is why competitive fighting though violent, can be pure. It is a form of play almost, venting one’s aggression on an adversary who will give you equal treatment, and thus no harm is actually done. War however is immoral violence. Yes armies are made up of those willing, and understanding of the consequence of their actions, but such large scale violence also harms those who are unwilling, and unknowing of what they did to deserve harm. If two sides truly hate each other, or have an insatiable level of aggression toward one another, then they and only they should sort it out, in perhaps a violent, yet non-lethal manner. That way there may still be a victor and so a resolution may be reached, while still venting as much aggression as possible so that hatred may be removed and eventually true peace may occur. This is no grand solution, but a suggestion, if a group must fight, then fight in a manner where learning may be gained as well. TO kill one’s opponent denies that opponent to learn from you, or to be killed denies you that same lesson. This equality in competitive fighting can be seen by the respect shared between fighters after a match. Each fighter can hate each other at the beginning but if both fight with everything they have, though violent, they discover more about each other, and themselves, and thus learning is achieved.