I was chatting with someone earlier tonight. I was talking about something meaningless, a segue into insignificance. I watched another person's drink tip over through her un-remarkably grandiose gesticulating, and then I suddenly paused; I knew what was about to happen.
Usually, it's a trigger--someone says a specific thing, an object is moved, someone makes a mistake. After that moment, a clear revelation is accepted into your psyche. You suddenly become clairvoyant, you can see how the rest of the conversation will progress, or what the next two or three things destined to happen and how they will transpire.
So in a wild attempt to debunk that belief, you do everything you can to perform the opposite action, you avoid saying the one thing in your head that will concede to your sudden vision. After all, deja vu is only a strange thing in your head that can not only be avoided, but explained eventually by science.
Subsequently, your conversation begins to suck. It dies, if for no other reason than that it becomes suddenly uninteresting.
In summation, I propose that deja vu is not actually a moment of vision. Rather, it is actually a choice. When it happens, a future moment (whether artificially induced by time travel or naturally occurring in the brain) is made clear to your mind, and you are commanded to make a choice to follow the seen path or to intentionally deviate in order to create a life-changing (and possibly universally significant) decision.
This being said, I cannot wait to have a moment like this again. I will post my findings here.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Time Travel Phone Returns?
I decided yesterday (Friday, April 9th, 2010) to turn my phone off to save battery power. I was at work, and I wasn't going to need it to be active anyway.
Five seconds after I powered it down, I placed it in my pocket and began to feel it vibrating a few short seconds later. Taking it out, I saw that it was on again. I thought perhaps I had not quite succeeded at turning it off. I tried turning it off again, this time watching it to see if it was my imagination.
After a few more seconds, it powered itself back on. I blinked a few times and tried to repeat the routine. Same result.
I showed it to a couple coworkers, and they made fun of me. They told me I just didn't know how phones worked, and that all of them do that. I told them it's never done that to me before, and that they should all shut the hell up.
Was it that my phone was trying to indicate something about this particular moment? At about 5:30 PM, was something significant happening in relation to the LHC or Timken Aerospace? After my first phone flaked out, I considered that these bizarre occurrences were isolated to that particular device (I didn't worry about it anymore when the phone ceased to work). After my next phone displayed the name of "SHERMAN," the particular friend of mine who helped me inside of its network directory, I knew some of this stuff could be transcending the constraints of local electronic devices. Now, my new phone is acting up against any probable explanation.
This isn't over.
Five seconds after I powered it down, I placed it in my pocket and began to feel it vibrating a few short seconds later. Taking it out, I saw that it was on again. I thought perhaps I had not quite succeeded at turning it off. I tried turning it off again, this time watching it to see if it was my imagination.
After a few more seconds, it powered itself back on. I blinked a few times and tried to repeat the routine. Same result.
I showed it to a couple coworkers, and they made fun of me. They told me I just didn't know how phones worked, and that all of them do that. I told them it's never done that to me before, and that they should all shut the hell up.
Was it that my phone was trying to indicate something about this particular moment? At about 5:30 PM, was something significant happening in relation to the LHC or Timken Aerospace? After my first phone flaked out, I considered that these bizarre occurrences were isolated to that particular device (I didn't worry about it anymore when the phone ceased to work). After my next phone displayed the name of "SHERMAN," the particular friend of mine who helped me inside of its network directory, I knew some of this stuff could be transcending the constraints of local electronic devices. Now, my new phone is acting up against any probable explanation.
This isn't over.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Sophisticated Taste
I decided to have a someone over for dinner, perhaps to get on the good graces of my dear family. We all engaged in delightful conversation, from topics of politics to basic insignificant banter. After dinner was over, my father decided to pour himself a glass of tangerine-flavored seltzer water.
Personally, I have never liked the taste of carbonated water. So when my father offered me some, I decided to express my profound dislike for the beverage.
"That stuff is gross," I said.
"That's because you're not sophisticated enough to enjoy it," my father replied. I felt the conversation had at that moment reached its ultimate maximum point of nonsense.
"Dad, isn't that stuff 99 cents a bottle?" I asked.
He paused for a moment.
"Well, it's actually two for a dollar," he recalled.
In an attempt to completely trivialize the statement he made earlier about seltzer being sophisticated, I drew on a reference from contemporary culture.
"Also dad, don't clowns spray each other with that stuff?"
Personally, I have never liked the taste of carbonated water. So when my father offered me some, I decided to express my profound dislike for the beverage.
"That stuff is gross," I said.
"That's because you're not sophisticated enough to enjoy it," my father replied. I felt the conversation had at that moment reached its ultimate maximum point of nonsense.
"Dad, isn't that stuff 99 cents a bottle?" I asked.
He paused for a moment.
"Well, it's actually two for a dollar," he recalled.
In an attempt to completely trivialize the statement he made earlier about seltzer being sophisticated, I drew on a reference from contemporary culture.
"Also dad, don't clowns spray each other with that stuff?"
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
The Negative Impact of Internet Familiarity
As it has been my recent custom to do, I've been spending most of my time at work for the purposes of making enough change to do some laundry. While folding napkins, there was some commotion at one of the cooking tables.
Interested in what was going on (because I had been folding napkins for the last 2 hours), I turned to listen as one customer frantically tried to explain what was going on.
Apparently, someone's 14-year-old grand daughter had thrown up all over the cooking table. I couldn't imagine why, but the funny part was how it was explained;
"She's vomiting!" exclaimed the frantic grandmother.
"And she needs a CUP to rinse her mouth out."
I listened further to the conversation.
"Just a cup, that's it. Just one cup, so she can get the taste of vomit out."
I was trying to no avail to conceal my laughter by this point. The way it was phrased, I couldn't help but be reminded of a certain internet reference.
Clearly, she wasn't.
Interested in what was going on (because I had been folding napkins for the last 2 hours), I turned to listen as one customer frantically tried to explain what was going on.
Apparently, someone's 14-year-old grand daughter had thrown up all over the cooking table. I couldn't imagine why, but the funny part was how it was explained;
"She's vomiting!" exclaimed the frantic grandmother.
"And she needs a CUP to rinse her mouth out."
I listened further to the conversation.
"Just a cup, that's it. Just one cup, so she can get the taste of vomit out."
I was trying to no avail to conceal my laughter by this point. The way it was phrased, I couldn't help but be reminded of a certain internet reference.
Clearly, she wasn't.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
A Failure at Conning A Fake Intership
When I was out of the house one day, my father told me upon my return that I had missed a call from a company called "Dial America" or something similar. I assumed, as it was the peak of my job hunt, that it was one of the 36 companies I had applied to calling me back to offer me a job.
Not realizing how wrong this assumption was, I called the company back at the phone number contained within my caller ID.
I was still desperate at this point for a career in writing or journalism of some kind (who am I kidding, I still am). So I waited until the next day to dial the number, assured that I was going to be able to set up some kind of an interview.
After leaving a confident voicemail about how excited I was to have been asked about partaking in an editorial internship position, I hung up and waited for a reply.
By this point, my doubts had nestled into my psyche. I had no idea what this company did, nevermind the notion that I could have ever applied there.
So my phone rang at about 8:30 the next morning. Being tired, groggy, and haven't had used my vocal chords since the previous evening, I sounded worse then the train wreck I looked like when I said;
"Hellllllo?"
"Hello, is this Devon?" The official-sounding caller replied.
After confirming my identity, the caller proceeded to try and rectify the scenario;
"I'm not sure we have any sort of internship program here at Dial America, so I don't really know what you were calling about," she said in a cheery tone.
"Well, I was fairly certain I applied at your company," I stated, knowing full well by now that I hadn't.
"I'm not saying that you haven't, but I have no idea why you would have applied to a position we don't offer," she retorted.
"I see," I said, clearly out of options.
"If we were to offer you a position in the future, don't hesitate to call us back. But as of right now, I have no idea what you were talking about," she finished.
I assumed that if I couldn't even persuade someone that I applied to their company, then I couldn't furthermore assume that they had an inkling about who I was. Realizing by this point that they were the third party concerned with selling me a video gaming magazine subscription, I decided to double back and cover my tracks. Essentially, to explain why it was that I had done something so completely asinine.
"I suppose what happened was that in my job search, I had called the wrong number in my caller ID. I appreciate the fact that we were able to figure this whole thing out," I said.
"Ah, I see what you mean. Perhaps you should try the next number in your caller ID, maybe they have that internship position you were looking for," she said.
A long pause ensued, and silence filled the void. I decided to change the mood.
"So....can I get a free subscription to my magazine?"
Not realizing how wrong this assumption was, I called the company back at the phone number contained within my caller ID.
I was still desperate at this point for a career in writing or journalism of some kind (who am I kidding, I still am). So I waited until the next day to dial the number, assured that I was going to be able to set up some kind of an interview.
After leaving a confident voicemail about how excited I was to have been asked about partaking in an editorial internship position, I hung up and waited for a reply.
By this point, my doubts had nestled into my psyche. I had no idea what this company did, nevermind the notion that I could have ever applied there.
So my phone rang at about 8:30 the next morning. Being tired, groggy, and haven't had used my vocal chords since the previous evening, I sounded worse then the train wreck I looked like when I said;
"Hellllllo?"
"Hello, is this Devon?" The official-sounding caller replied.
After confirming my identity, the caller proceeded to try and rectify the scenario;
"I'm not sure we have any sort of internship program here at Dial America, so I don't really know what you were calling about," she said in a cheery tone.
"Well, I was fairly certain I applied at your company," I stated, knowing full well by now that I hadn't.
"I'm not saying that you haven't, but I have no idea why you would have applied to a position we don't offer," she retorted.
"I see," I said, clearly out of options.
"If we were to offer you a position in the future, don't hesitate to call us back. But as of right now, I have no idea what you were talking about," she finished.
I assumed that if I couldn't even persuade someone that I applied to their company, then I couldn't furthermore assume that they had an inkling about who I was. Realizing by this point that they were the third party concerned with selling me a video gaming magazine subscription, I decided to double back and cover my tracks. Essentially, to explain why it was that I had done something so completely asinine.
"I suppose what happened was that in my job search, I had called the wrong number in my caller ID. I appreciate the fact that we were able to figure this whole thing out," I said.
"Ah, I see what you mean. Perhaps you should try the next number in your caller ID, maybe they have that internship position you were looking for," she said.
A long pause ensued, and silence filled the void. I decided to change the mood.
"So....can I get a free subscription to my magazine?"
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Another Time Travel Anomaly
While searching through my phone's computer-sync database, I found a peculiar backup file. Despite the fact that I had no idea why or how it could have appeared there, I found a sub-folder called "SHERMAN," written exactly as such.
Sherman, whom you may remember from previous installments, was a friend of mine who assisted me most in shedding light on the possibilities of time travel in my own vivid bildungsroman. He researched the dates and times that my phone chose to display, giving me the insight I needed to continue my pursuit of knowledge within the parameters of the future.
Now, my phone had seemingly singled him out.
Seeing the directory made me wonder what it was that he may or may not have told me. Perhaps his words were in some way relevant to the way history would play out; perhaps it was again just an awkward coincidence. At this point, the latter seemed terrifically unlikely.
Within this directory, I found no concrete files. The filename was this;
C:\Documents and Settings\Owner.YOUR-34EFF17BD0\My Documents\Phone Backup\SHERMAN
I know 100% that I sure as hell hadn't created it. I wouldn't even have known how.
Even though there were no concrete files within the four subdirectories (entitled 'DCIM,' 'music,' 'picture,' and 'video'), I was convinced that the directory had some kind of purpose.
But what that purpose was, I was completely unsure of. I hoped it was nothing disastrous.
Sherman, whom you may remember from previous installments, was a friend of mine who assisted me most in shedding light on the possibilities of time travel in my own vivid bildungsroman. He researched the dates and times that my phone chose to display, giving me the insight I needed to continue my pursuit of knowledge within the parameters of the future.
Now, my phone had seemingly singled him out.
Seeing the directory made me wonder what it was that he may or may not have told me. Perhaps his words were in some way relevant to the way history would play out; perhaps it was again just an awkward coincidence. At this point, the latter seemed terrifically unlikely.
Within this directory, I found no concrete files. The filename was this;
C:\Documents and Settings\Owner.YOUR-34EFF17BD0\My Documents\Phone Backup\SHERMAN
I know 100% that I sure as hell hadn't created it. I wouldn't even have known how.
Even though there were no concrete files within the four subdirectories (entitled 'DCIM,' 'music,' 'picture,' and 'video'), I was convinced that the directory had some kind of purpose.
But what that purpose was, I was completely unsure of. I hoped it was nothing disastrous.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Eudaimonia
Semi-recently, I've familiarized myself with Plato's principles of Eudaimonia. Eudaimonia is, in a nutshell, the happiest point a person can attain, only possible through the fulfillment of his or her own potential. This can mean a few fundamental things;
I am not currently the happiest I can be. Is this because I am only on my personal journey, supposed to reach Eudaimonical enlightenment by the end of my life, or is it that I'm only happy in the short term satisfaction of my immediate goals. If the latter, my goals are in fact such;
-Get drunk frequently
-Play pool
-Spend time reminiscing with good friends
This makes me wonder heavily.
Am I or am I not fulfilling my potential?
I've always wanted to be a professional actor, but will the fulfillment of that specific goal make me Eudaimonically happy? I don't quite think so. I rather believe that writing and the recognition and discrepancies of those works will make me somehow travel towards my personal Eudaimonia. Things like those I say above as well as buying a new power supply and more ram for my computer would only enable the accomplishment of smaller steps towards that end.
Indeed, I hope they will.
I am not currently the happiest I can be. Is this because I am only on my personal journey, supposed to reach Eudaimonical enlightenment by the end of my life, or is it that I'm only happy in the short term satisfaction of my immediate goals. If the latter, my goals are in fact such;
-Get drunk frequently
-Play pool
-Spend time reminiscing with good friends
This makes me wonder heavily.
Am I or am I not fulfilling my potential?
I've always wanted to be a professional actor, but will the fulfillment of that specific goal make me Eudaimonically happy? I don't quite think so. I rather believe that writing and the recognition and discrepancies of those works will make me somehow travel towards my personal Eudaimonia. Things like those I say above as well as buying a new power supply and more ram for my computer would only enable the accomplishment of smaller steps towards that end.
Indeed, I hope they will.
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