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Yeah, you remember how back in AP Gov, we talked about how Social Security is
going to kill us all, because no one would ever commit the political suicide inevitable in fixing it? It should appear someone kind of, you know, is. Well played, Dubya. Quote from my sociology teacher yesterday: "I'm allowed to [call him a knucklehead]; I voted for him." Only in America.

I've gotta be the only person in the world to read the poster at H&R Block by moving cognates from "estamos abiertos" to "stiamo aperti." Crazy Braden's House o' Sofas 'n' Linguistics.

Sociology was fantastic yesterday, actually. We rarely have good discussion, but near the end of class, he brought up ethnocentrism and pointed out that the US is quite ethnocentric. I assumed that he was bashing on us again, since he likes to troll with ridiculous hippie rhetoric, so I raised my hand and commented that I think it's invalidto automatically deem ethnocentrism as he was defining it arrogant. He actually backpedaled a great deal, but another student challenged myassertion, so I got to use my argument that any rational xenocentric society will seek to improve itself, so the only stable states are cultural relativism and ethnocentrism. Another student made the excellent point that most such situations are far more like our pursual of France in fashion than Japan's maturation upon discovery of the Western world, in constant flux, bringing an interesting conflict-socialism perspective to an otherwise interactionist lecture. The token middle-aged guy ranted about our pretentiousness in expecting people in other countries to speak English, touching off a splendid debate between the pragmatists and the hippies and allowing me to bombast about lexical ambiguity in our use of the word "expect," with the moral evaluation hinging largely on whether it denotes a logistic or obligatory expectation (a necessary/possible truth, if you will). Yeah...happy Braden.

Apparently the past really does repeat itself. September '03, particularly. Groundhog Year. Let's see if I can catch the kid this time around.

Know what? I hit bottom again Tuesday evening. And I'm not disenchanted. I've finally figured out that, you know, it doesn't really matter, because that's not me. I'm
not a skulking cynic who can sometimes indoctrinate himself with blissful rhetoric; I'm a cheerful, impish optimist with a deep laugh who gets down sometimes. A little more down than most, perhaps, but I'd like to think I get a little more up than most, too.

And this is where I have to disagree with Brother Bott in his stance on psychological struggles (depression and homosexuality, to be precise). Sure, D&C 50:35 says we can overcome anything not ordained of God. It doesn't give a timeframe, though, and unless we're prepared to castigate Elder Maxwell for his faithlessness in battling cancer, I don't think we can label
everything that hinders the work as "not ordained of God." I rather doubt that Job did his home teaching while he sat among the ashes with a potsherd. Why, then, consider myself a failure for my off days? Why plead with myself to "just get over it," to "be more grateful for so many blessings"? Simply put, I timeshare my cerebral property with a recluse, and for the moment, at least, I lack the capital to buy him
out. So I'll humor him. His work does not negate mine. This too shall pass.

You know what are amazing? Chili's Southwest Eggrolls.

The 100 Hour Board is back up, by the way, for anyone who hasn't noticed. Huzzah.

By way of postscript, my branch president in the MTC told me that my situation kind of reminded him of a girl he knew who ended up marrying this really laid-back, down-to-earth chap who would essentially say, "mmmkay, dear" when she voiced hopeless despair. Seems it worked out rather well for them. So yeah, this entry was basically saying that to myself.

By way of rant, I think I've made more entries and posts over the last few days than the entire Internet combined. Where the heck is everybody?