One giant inside joke

So the world, I concluded yesterday, is one huge inside joke inside of another, inside of another…

How did I arrive at this conclusion? Well it is a long string of thoughts that I beg you to embark on with me.

Back to yesterday, I was sitting in Nichole’s living room watching America’s Next Top Model and a Gieco commercial came on the screen (I know Nichole… you can fast forward through commercials on a DVR, but I always forget, for I am not used to such amenities). Now with this ad came of course everyone’s favorite British accented gecko telling everyone about the company’s newest venture of getting your money back in your pocket.

The funny thing is, logically, why would a freaking gecko be on a car insurance ad in the first place? We all know why, in this case, because we know the back story… the inside joke per sé. Because the two words Geico and gecko sound similar and they have made previous ads that have expressed this and built a story surrounding it, and a following of people who understands. And eventually this gecko ends up just becoming the accepted spokesperson of Geico and changed the whole way they did ads for the remaining years of the company.

This is how the world works also. We have built a knowledge base in all of our brains from the very beginning of our lives, and that has been built on all the things learned of previous generations. Our whole lives are one giant inside joke.

Because when you and a group of friends stand around talking of old times and somebody throws out an inside joke and you all are laughing so hard you can’t breathe no one on the outside of that circle would understand why it was so funny to you. Just like anyone outside of this planet would not understand all the things we have here.

I mean really how would you explain a blog to someone that was from a distant planet (and happened to speak your language), but had never been to earth before? How well would that translate?

You would have to go back and explain what the internet is, and a computer, and maybe even prose and sentence structure and everything that you yourself have learned up to this point in time to be able to explain what a blog is. Maybe you would even have to go back and explain the history of humanity and how we got to a point in time of where we could actually log on to the internet on our i-phone and push buttons to make  thoughts and ideas come out of our heads in weird markings.

There is so much to know when you are a human, and even more as the days go on.

Just take today to think about all the actions you are doing and the thoughts you are thinking and analyze where you learned, and how much you had to learn to even make it through that one small thing that you are doing.

And the thing is there are hundreds of these actions that make up a day. Even up to the googooplextillions ( I made that up) that make up a lifetime. It is a good thing that you don’t have to have an individual log of things that comprise each of these items though. It is good that the world is connected in ways that we don’t even expect.

It is when the gecko is about Gieco. It is when this is about that. Because all of our lives this is almost always about that. Whatever you want to fill in those two words with, it is all connected and it is all one big human inside joke.

Miss Mykell

Starlight Calling

There is this magic moment that happens only once in a twenty four hour cycle, and rarely do I ever experience it.

In the waning light of the day, when the sun dips just below the visibility of the sea and everything around you begins to be shrouded in darkness. You are standing on the boardwalk panicking as you hurry towards your house while you don’t think you’re going to make it before time runs out, and you just might trip on a rock, or worse… and then it happens. All of the streetlights in the city flick on in one instant. And there begins to be light for your path.

You can see it all around the bay in unison, little glimmers of hope for the before dinner evening strollers that whisper everything will be okay until the sun comes out again mañana.

And thus I can continue to dance on through the night, unswervingly so.

Miss Mykell

I may be a giant…

Okay I will finally admit it.

(I am human.)

So in being (human) I  have been wanting things that I have been struggling with to be finished already. I want to just take huge steps and have this process be over with. I think most people want to get through things as quickly as possible.

But I must remember that giant steps are hardly good for anyone.

If you think about the world as a sphere (which, conveniently it is) and you’re trying to run on it like a yoga ball (size proportion only) it becomes an entangling metaphor.

First of all you the bigger the steps you take, the faster the ball moves and the harder it is to balance. Because giant steps only make the world spin faster.

Second of all what human could possibly want the world to spin faster than it already is? That would be my least favorite tshing, the world is already confusing enough and normal human stuff makes my head spin already.

I vote we all take appropriately spaced steps with our problems, because it is a process.

And because the world is moving at a constant rate anyway so what human would think they can change that without some wicked high powered explosives?

Miss Mykell

And so I begin

That might have been a title I have used before.

But I still like it.

Being in airports is one of the most interesting experiences. You are just sitting there waiting for your plane to board sometimes for hours at a time. Everyone around you comes from a radically different background, everyone has their own style, interests, and they are all focusing on different things, but also the same thing: getting to their destination.

You meet people from Germany, leaving on totally different flights and somehow ending up in the same place as you in the end. Totally different mind frame this is.

You also learn lots about the places you are going by overhearing people talking in the next seat.

Take your time coming home, home, home.

~Mykell

The way we flow: Part 1

There is a post here at camp. A post that is on the top of a huge hill and is smack in the middle of camp. Until recently this post remained vacant, but now it is acting as a coat rack. Yes, a child had left their coat on it last week, and it has since then not been recovered.

I know for a fact that I am not the only person that is taking note of this. I have daily conversations about how all the staff thinks it is a small child just standing there awkwardly alone and then when they get close enough they realize that it is actually a pole. They then carry on their way until the incident occurs again in their mind as they walk back up or down the hill.

I think it is a secret contest to see how long we can get away with leaving it there. Haha, just kidding.

There was this thing that happened to Google last May. Google designed an actual Pac-man game on thier home page. It was an amazing blip in time in the internet world, or at least my world.

So entertaining.

But the thing is it cost the United States 120 million dollars in productivity for the day.

Crazy how one internet site if used for just 32 seconds more than usual by each person can make such a huge impact. It makes me want to calculate how much time is spent interrupting the staffs brain flow thinking about the coat pole. And this makes me wonder about how much time we actually do have as humans, and how much cognitive surplus there is out there in the world just waiting to be harnessed and used.

To be continued…

~Miss Myké

Vanish

And now your gone.

Funny how you can be somewhere, and then. . . you’re just not. Time and space can always be separate, but they are bound together by more than just their nature.

It’s almost as if they rely on each other, but then they are transcendent of each other as well.

The Huge Picture

I was thinking about how nothing we do really makes sense. I mean, some things might seem to further the world, or keep us sane, but, in the grand scheme of things, nothing we do really makes that much of a difference.

Of course you could, at this point, argue with me, and say “haven’t you ever heard of the butterfly effect!?” Of course I have, but this is not the point I am making, I was merely stating that I was thinking this the other day. Now I wish to comment on my conclusion.

In a recent epiphany I have equated the things we do to an assembly line industry, or company. You have workers who all have odd small jobs that might not make sense to them. Most of these workers don’t know many of the other jobs, or just exactly why they have to do their jobs, but they do it,if for nothing else but compensation.

But there is always this guy at the top, the guy who runs the company. He sits up in his office, or oversees from his catwalk above. This guy is the guy who knows everything. He knows each and every one of the jobs that are being done, and exactly why they are being done when the final product comes out correctly. To him everything that is confusing to all the workers who seem to sometimes have meaningless jobs is crystal clear. He knows it all, and has people do certain things so it will come out correctly.

I am now going to equate this to the world. Yeah, I know, it doesn’t make sense, and I don’t exactly know why we do anything that we do, really. But there must be someone out there somewhere that sees everything with clarity and puts people places so things will turn out right.

For now, I am trusting in that fact.

~Miss Mykell

The difference between then and now

A girl hops in a car already stuffed with friends from her new major. She laughs at the silly inside jokes that have already been made and sings along, not afraid to show this side of herself around these strange, but interesting people. They drive off into some unknown location, well, at least somewhere that is ,small, not even caring that only one of them needs to be there. She, and the rest of her comrades are just along for the ride and the company.

The same girl then exits the car twenty songs, one Mountain Dew,  seventeen deep thought moments, and two hours later to head into the SUB of the college she attends only to be greeted by some long-lost (thankfully) high school buddies.

The greetings are cordial, but strained and forced as she hovers over the table they reside for a couple minutes, then casually, but reluctantly sits down. They converse, quite cautiously and they all try to keep this constant level of witty banter about their new life after high school. Submitting what most would call foul words in intermittently to appear much more mature than when they all last laid eyes on each other.

Such is how the conversation continues until her head pounds from concentrating too much on what they are actually saying instead of what they are trying to come off as saying.

That is the difference between then and now.

And such is life.

~Miss Myké

And, for those of you who know what this is about…. Dammit, I have become too attached.

The difference between us and… well, us.

It’s halloween time today, and everyone know what that means….

No, not candy time… zombie apocalypse movie time! Yay! My favorite! 

Okay maybe not my favorite, but I did find a fairly decent movie today called 28 Weeks Later. Well put together with some great acting, and set in the country I am not visiting, I found it to be believable if virus’ can mutate as such to take down an entire centuries old monarchic country in less than three weeks. 

Hey it could happen.

Let me get to my point; so we have all these movies about infected humans, zombies, vampires, and people mutating into some sort of grotesque lower form of themselves, and they made me wonder why we do classify them as “lower” than ourselves (the zombies and such). 

I mean, they really just go to primal animal instinct right? Not showering, eating with their fingers, and cannibalism might be the three main hints of that.

But, according to some, that is all we are, animals. Maybe there is more to us than animals though. Foaming at the mouth and attacking any human that breathes (but their already turned into zombies kin, I haven’t figured that one out yet) they jerk around ferociously as they bite chunks of flesh and blood off peoples faces and necks.

There has to be something more to humans than just animals.

I think it’s love, and soul, and that we are built after something. Designed to be something more. Not just do something more, be something more.

Watching this movie also made me ponder why we “lower” zombies to be less than us. The main difference between them and us is that they kill thier own kind. How disturbing, killing your own kind.

Oh wait, we do that too.

But why?

Take into consideration that everyone dies someday, and we still find it upsetting, and we still grieve when someone dies.

Is there a particular reason that we have these things that prompt us to commit violent acts of murder and slaughter such as war and crime? I see no reason but disagreement between two or more people.

And that is not reason enough for me.

It’s like two boys building cities made of blocks, and one disagrees with the other so he starts to demolish his own city by throwing blocks at the other’s city. Therefore ruining the whole world that they had built together. 

How illogical.

So I must ask:

Why is it that we kill our fellow humans? Can anyone give me a good answer? Are we made for more than this? Are we designed for a higher purpose? What are we supposed to be doing with this world? With our short lives?

~Miss Myké

Happy is a small thing

If you have never realized, there is a teeny tiny, itty bitty small little smiley in the upper right hand corner of this blog. Of course I did not put this in here. It was programed in with my HTML theme. 

But it looks at me every time I open this page. And it makes me giggle inside. 

Isn’t that weird? That such small things can lift our spirits unbelievably so. Then really, how important is happiness to us?

It’s even included in the United States Constitution (well the pursuit of happiness…)! Such a crazy little thing can really dominate our lives. We can spend hours, nights, days, weeks, months, years just thinking about happiness. 

“What makes me happy?”

“What should make me happy?”

“What would make me happy if it happened?”

“Happy Birthday!” (Or insert holiday of liking there)

It’s a small emotion. Just one of many. But that is the one that many seek after. 

It would save a depressed person’s life… or it could take it… the idea of being happy. Of course pretty much everything is centered around happiness these days, especially in the media.

Like, if we buy this product, or do this, we will be happy. Content?

Or is it that God really wants us to be content, not happy? Where is happy in the bible? Like maybe, since happy is an emotion, a little  bit of our lives, it should not be what we center ourselves around? 

Do we use the words happy and content interchangeably? Could we? Should we?

Only you make me happy…

~Miss Myké

Better than Windex

The ability to see things is such an amazing gift, but its something that we never seem to have when we feel we need it the most. So… we seem to go through life flying blind.
We go to a party because we dont have anything better to do…
We go talk to that boy wanting him to ask us out, knowing how slim chances with him really are…
We choose to use a particular set of words or phrases because we dont know what else to say…

All choices we make… for a reason…

But… reasoning is so… empty. What is the purpose of reason? 
To find what benefits or entertains us, or others the most?

To find emotional comfort in the mistakes we make?
To try to save ourselves, or others from looking foolish?

I don’t know. I really don’t.

But maybe… reason can sometimes be beyond our own reasoning and understanding.
Maybe we went to that party because we wanted to… but the reason was irrelevant to us… but meant the world to someone else.
Maybe we really talked to that boy to be broken and rejected, but it showed both people how much more to life there was.
Maybe we chose those words because we couldnt find anything else to say….

Maybe we were never talking at all….

 

~Miss Myké

The Key to Stone

Burying something can have a tremendous effect on something. Especially when you have held that thing in your hands for so long. 

I mean, sometimes we may have set it aside, or forgotten about it for a little while, but other times it was the main point of our fascination. It was our light and joy, and a part of us would be missing if we had not found it in the first place. Right?

But stone, that is hard to break into. Its heavy to hold. Its strenuous to lift. And not pleasant to plant in. Yet here we stand, successfully growing a beautiful flower out of the hardest rock.

We may have wanted to give up at times, we may have been frustrated that stone does not take water well, but in the end, it has been well worth it.

And still I bury it in the ground. Not as a farewell to all our hard work, but as a way of handing its well being over to nature to play with. To make grow, or die of its own accord. Yet I think the world is a bit of a brighter place with it there flourishing instead of rotting. 

May we go on to flourish and bloom where we have been planted. Even through rough beginnings, and hard endings, may we flower to the best that is offered to us. Because making the world a more beautiful place is always refreshing and worthwhile.

Miss Myké

I am jack’s desperate generation

 

With what is happening in the world. I Find this to be very true. Listen to it’s words, it’s only when we reverse ourselves that things make a turnaround.

Just not sure how to apply that right now.

Miss Myké

To Learn

You know, I really am glad that I had to take my eleventh grade english online this last year.

It’s nice when someone knows you just need to talk because you are so lonely.

 

Thank you Mrs. Oppelt.

Especially when you know that your relationship with them won’t change because of your distance from home, only the distance from your heart.

But learning. That is a lifelong passion. To learn is to breathe, to breathe is to live, to live is to love.

And to love is to hurt.

 

I don’t know, maybe I am just making all this crap up on no sound basis whatsoever. Maybe I don’t really know what I am talking about.

 

~Miss Myké

Darkness

Tonight the darkness presses in around my skin, teasing to swallow me whole. I am walking around the Rupert square hearing heartbreaking tales of misery and triumph. The reason they walk all night is because it parallels the disease. Going into the night you are unsure you can make it, you know it will be cold and hard, and tiring. But then when you see those first rays of the dawn a hope is stirred within you.  A hope that extends through your friends and family, there to give you a helping hand.

At least that is how it was described to me.

Write you again,

~Miss Myké

Culture Jamming, Nerdfighters, Kelli Murray, Dictionaries, and General Connectivity

Disclaimer: This blog requires much background understanding, make sure to click on all links as you stumble upon them.

Today has been a day of exploration, of self discovery. Well, maybe it actually wasn’t self discovery, maybe it was self connectedness(did I just make a word?) discovery.

First off, I have discovered this artist, Kelli Murray, who does some spectacular, and heartbreaking work. A unique mix of reality grunge, and sweet innocence.

 

Her work breaks my heart, and enlightens my soul. Yet, here is this Christian artist, trying to self express and reach other people at the same time. What every artist wants, but I think we could see this as something more.

Which brings me upon something that quite resembles my political opinions, and encumbrances. It is called Culture Jamming. Yay for that. This, as I see it, combines all this [let's label it] “stuff” inside of me and construes it all out into proper sentences! How else would you describe this love of world change through art and rebelliousness and connectedness?  But that’s just it, its whole point is to connect, and let the world hear it.

Now, culture jamming connects to Nerdfighters. Nerdfighters, yes, the beloved Nerdfighters. They are a group of people basically doing some underground culture jamming to their own grooves in their own system, by being nerds while trying to reduce world suck. Subtly finding similarities and ideas to put forth into the world.

And last but not least we have dictionaries, which now sheds light to the day I have just experienced. Perpetually everything is always connecting to one another, even dictionaries.

We use words all the time, and why should we only consider the words in the dictionary real? What is it about a dictionary that makes the words so prestigious and overall-y better than the others? Grammar is just what a group of people tend to think sounds right at the moment (read “The Stuff of Thought”) right?

So finally, why can’t we make our own dictionary of culture jamming art, music, writing, video making, talking, speaking, loving, directing, justifying, collecting, et cetera as a dictionary of life and the world? True culture jammers are paling in comparison to the movements of People Magazine and Hollywood, [who are (in their own way) culture jamming].

I think there is a group out there, one that resembles this ideal, they might have not met each other yet, and people might think they are stupid for even trying, and they might think it is worth doing anything. But these people are artists. Everyone is an artist in their own way.

Yes.

The point would be not them getting the satisfaction from the people of the world, but the satisfaction from themselves.

Is there really any possibility that this can happen without everyone being able to see how connected everything really is?

I mean “Fight Club” and Nerdfighters seem like they hardly compare, but they are in everything compliments to each other, but each for a different cause. One Project Mayhem, another reducing world suck.

Each group of artists with their own ideals and projects, but each with a common goal, to unite with other people in a like mindset and reach out with that to the world around them.

So is all that we are doing as humans, as artists, here trying t reach out to people and connect with each other? If we could just see how everything fits together, would the world be better? If we could see into each other with the same mindset, although completely different, and really connect, and really love, would everything be alright?

 

 

 

And now I trun to a song interlude to describe my feelings about my writings:

I’m just a little bit caught in the middle
Life is a maze and love is a riddle
I don’t know where to go I can’t do it alone I’ve tried
And I don’t know why

I’m just a little girl lost in the moment
I’m so scared but I don’t show it
I can’t figure it out
It’s bringing me down I know
I’ve got to let it go
And just enjoy the show

Write you again,

~Miss Myké

Hands

Do you ever just look at your hands?

 

Just look at them, taking in with a grave sort of reverence just all that they are?

Hands under only one influence.

Hands manipulated by no one else.

Hands capable of clapping, of snapping, of a language all their own.

Capable of playing a song, of throwing a ball, of tucking a child in at night, of helping a friend to stand again.

Capable of forgery, of theft, of destruction, and of murder.

Nothing more than ten bony digits, ten jagged nails, two calloused palms.

They are instruments, with the power to create and to dismantle.

But they are only instruments.

Starting as an End

This past weekend. Wow.

Really, there is much to say, and so few words of written human language that can describe it. My mind is slewing through information at a million miles an hour, and its crazy how much can be said in so little time, and in less than a few words.

Its funny how, when you know that something is almost over, we as humans try to tie up all the loose ends, and gather all the pieces, throw them into our boxes and find our way out. But I did something different this weekend, instead of picking up my items from the table, I took what I had already laid out and began to dump all the contents onto the table.

By no means did I even get done taking all my trinkets of life and liberty out, let alone even start to put them back in. But that is how I ended it.

Its also funny, how you can so desperately wish for something, but the moment you give up the fight, and all hope of ever acquiring it, the thing you were seeking seems to fall upon your head like gravity. By no means was I ready to pack up my box this weekend.

Two people are lucky to find each other in this long stream of human history. In fact, I believe two people did find each other for a brief instant in the history of the world, two people came together, and they didn’t share much before they locked themselves out of the outside world, just a similar passion, and their own filled boxes. The two people what stepped out into the world from the deep maze they had traveled for less than thirty-eight hours arose connected and transformed.

Their boxes were launched at each other from across the room, and it, in turn, brought them together.

With random objects laying out, about, together in a heap on the floor, ebbing and flowing through, within, and around each other. There was no way that they would part from one another without taking a least one item of the other persons.

Its not so funny, however, that I meant this weekend to be a ribbon tied end to a present presented long ago. It turned into a start of something that I have so desperately wanted since I first went to the market searching for something to give. Now I yearn for so much more of it, searching, seeking, craving for something to fill that desire within. Heartbroken and longing, because I know that it unequivocally is the end, and not the beginning, and it is no longer possible for that ribbon to be tied correctly, maybe not even given with the present at all.

Then again, the things you already have, those are the gifts that you end up truly giving.