(A Random Post)

If I Could Be Serious For A Minute

The Winner Is – DeVotchKa

It occurred to me today that to believe in fate means that one must be either completely egotistical or absolutely pathetic. Think about it. Those are really your only two options. First, the egotistical side. How self-obsessed does one have to be to actually be convinced that the universe has a plan for you; you, a mere speck in the grand scheme. I’m a believer in thermodynamic miracles and all that jazz, but just because I marvel at the existence of each and every individual does not mean that I feel everyone’s role in the cosmos is predetermined. Believing in destiny is the lowest form of self-approval.

It is also the lowest form of self-destruction. It is the last resort for the quitter. How wonderful it must be to accept that there is no need for human will because any attempt to deviate from the path would be foolish. What better way to justify a lack of direction than by suggesting you don’t need one because it will all inevitably unfold before you? Whether you are happy or not, you should never blame your circumstances on forces beyond your control. There is no such thing.

Don’t worry. I’m not writing all this because I suddenly think I’m profound or to change the normally toxic, uninhabitable atmosphere of this site. No, I’ve been thinking about my future lately, an activity that usually results in me feeling sleepy or nauseous or both. I though I’d comment on why I feel deeply concerned and yet completely oblivious at the same time. I don’t believe in fate. If I did, I’d have one less reason to get out of bed in the morning. I don’t have a plan either, but I do have a will and a desire to succeed and for now, for me, that is enough. Soon it will all make sense.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

Hey hey hey! What is up with the giant novelty pen?
It’s an occupational therapy pen. Brian can’t hold small objects.
I had an ex-girlfriend who had the same problem. Kidding, no she didn’t. That’s…that’s awkward.

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Destined to fight the world's evil, The WAMBAG endures massive battles involving impossible stunts, races on horse-pulled carriages, and the desecration of enchanting medieval castles (all done with dizzying computer graphics). Not only does the eye candy keep on coming, the tongue-in-cheek writing and deep Transylvanian accents perfect the film with a dose of dark humor.

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