When a book like The Old Man and the Sea is made the icon and becomes a synecdoche for “Made-in-the-USA” literary genius, for an entire generation, it generally means that for it to be made palatable enough to become the zeitgeist of mainstream America and to reach the level of ubiquity it has, it had to be distilled to a point where the original compounds have been removed. What is left – this sober and simple caricature of what was once an intoxicating and clever portrait- becomes an object that is all too easy for the subsequent generation to view with a sense of cynicism or outright dismissiveness. The afore, coupled with my memory of my father making my twelve year old brother read and write a report on this book as a form punishment for some reason, led me to thirty years of “The Old Man and the Sea” avoidance.
It wasn’t until I recently finished a hackneyed, heavy-handed, and disastrous first draft of a manuscript that I thought it imperative to read this book and only then because of a selfish and fancifully sociopathic turn. I had inadvertently titled my MS with the same compound sentence structure: The ___ and the ___.
Once I realized this I had to read the book. I mean, Hemingway was not only one of my favorite authors but one of my life’s idols and even though we respectfully disagreed on matters of taste, like Victorian aesthetics and terse, Spartan sentences, maybe there was a fundamental driver that compelled us both to independently arrive at a similar naming convention. My heart swelled when the thought first flowed to my brain; did we share a muse?
I’ll save you the suspense. The above compound sentence structure is one of the most common found in the English language and I am an idiot.
What I did find, however and finally to the point, is that I really enjoyed this novella and thought it to be very profound and illustrative of, if we are lucky (or unlucky, as one may argue), an honest acceptance of our own old age, a review of our life lead up until our old age and what it has meant, and ultimately the inevitable end of it all.
What I read was not just a story about an old man fishing, but the story of love and sacrifice. This story is the song of the stoic and the ballad of the martyr. It is simply an understanding that life as we know it thus far (and likely have always known it) is inherently an exercise in futility with which the only control one can hope to wrest is the control of your attitude and how to give other people pleasure and love.
In my opinion the sea was a wonderful metaphor a vast and treacherous life that is intellectually unknowable by virtue of our physical and mortal limitations compared to the deep secrets and power of said vast and treacherous sea. The entire lifespan, experience and expertise of one man with a sole focus, who in this case was “born to be a fisherman”, cannot but put a dent into what can be truly known. Our fisherman, old, frail and barely able to “fish” anymore had in his short span only come to really understand the dynamics and characters at play in a small pool of water north of Cuba. With what hope can a man truly know the world and life if he is disabled with a built-in expiration date that makes investigation of every inch of the sea impossible?
One can’t, I think the author argues, but one can make the best of his nautical miles and pass the lessons on to our inspired youth with love and sacrifice.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
The Irony of People Who Do Not Believe in Evolution...
The Irony of People Who Do Not Believe in Evolution, Why Mainstream
Christianity in the West is the iPhone of Religion,
and a Case for Why China is More Evolved Than America.
Let me first acknowledge from what
perch I derive my view. I am an Absurdist through and through and as such, I
find staunch and devout atheists just as annoying as the similarly described
religious.
To expound on my personal belief,
the first thing you need to know is that my belief presupposes that, as a
species, we have realized that our survival is more likely encouraged if we
group and work together. (There is a meaningful distinction I should make here
in that "group together" does not mean every human being should live,
this is as paradox in that it is concurrently exclusive and inclusive.)
To that end, religion in general
and the flavor of Christianity that is mainstream in America, is equal to all
philosophical beliefs in that it is nothing more than a construct to help
groups, by way of individuals, survive this world. Whether it be a philosophy that inspires one
to live for its own purposes, a religion that obligates one to live in a
certain way, or any of the other infinite possibilities a human mind can
conjure up and put a flawed and mortal sense of belief or faith in, the
dictation of a behavior code and pattern is being adopted to promote the
creation of a standard; a standard which will serve to stabilize the (also,
perhaps, infinite) possibilities of human behavior in an attempt to, as a
group, avoid being lost in the human ignorance and resulting chaos of our material
universe and world.
My personal belief further dictates
that because we as a people and a condition cannot know inherent meaning for
life (ergo, we cannot know "God"), we are free to conceptualize and
implement whatever the fuck philosophy (or religion, which can be used
interchangeably at this point in my explanation) we want as long as it helps to yield
the result of our survival. It is in this way that religion is nothing more than
the best product our species has been able to produce for easing the lives of and maintaining the order for our kind. (As a
side point and at the risk of delving into political philosophy, it’s my belief
that this is why until the modern era you see religion as a basis of laws and
rights, as well.)
Because our species has evolved to
believe that the best case for survival is through banding together and creating
standards to promote harmony and convenience for the most basic needs of human life, and because philosophy and the group adoption of said philosophy is
a product of this evolution, one can only surmise that philosophy is a product
of evolution, ergo religion is a product of evolution.
It is in that sense, not through a pejorative
or dismissive tone, that I say Christianity in the West (and specifically in
America) is the equivalent of the iPhone and Jesus was Steve Jobs. Jesus (or
his executive handlers depending on the Apocrypha to which one subscribes) and
the latter, evolved iterations that we see today, is a democratized product whose
design is very easy to digest without much work or thought.
The packaging of a product that
solves the human problems of having to work to create a personal meaning to
live is important because instead of each individual being compelled to actively live,
experience, think and create a philosophy by which to live, the inheriting or
otherwise accepting a philosophy that one has not earned (or in the modern
case, even understands) eliminates the need to know and critically think about anything
in the world one lives in, and instead frees these specimens to eat, sleep and
procreate in larger numbers.
It is in this way that religion has a tipping point from being beneficial to survival to detrimental to survival, through the encouragement of the procreation of people who have shown a propensity to be indoctrinated as well as have exhibited a lack of appetite for critical analysis*.
Because as a species we have historically ascribed the philosophy that encourages the survival of the group, it can be deduced that societies birthing larger percentages of a population that has not inherited cheap dogma, defined as any philosophy not sufficiently earned, is more evolved. If we are to accept the aforementioned definitions and controls then logically we can interpret that China is an example of a more evolved society than America **.
It is in this way that religion has a tipping point from being beneficial to survival to detrimental to survival, through the encouragement of the procreation of people who have shown a propensity to be indoctrinated as well as have exhibited a lack of appetite for critical analysis*.
Because as a species we have historically ascribed the philosophy that encourages the survival of the group, it can be deduced that societies birthing larger percentages of a population that has not inherited cheap dogma, defined as any philosophy not sufficiently earned, is more evolved. If we are to accept the aforementioned definitions and controls then logically we can interpret that China is an example of a more evolved society than America **.
Notes
*Religious people who have come by their religion through a
personal interest, study, or experience are not included in the inherited and indoctrinated
as it could be said their philosophy is just as legitimate and valid as any
other.
** China has reports of 60-80% of its 1.3 Billion people as
non-religious or beholden to an inherited doctrine (780 million on the low end).
America has reports of 20% of its 313 Million people as non-religious or beholden
to an inherited doctrine (62 million).
Friday, August 22, 2014
#MothAnkles
Moth Ankles is my metaphysical alter ego; a fatalistic, devil-may-care man who struggles to exist in a world with no inherent meaning.
Born from the homage to the indomitable Cocaine Biceps aka Galaxy Knuckles aka Thor Molecules aka Ghostface Killah, the original iteration of this self was known as Meth Ankles.
As time wore in and my alter self became more self-aware, I was awoken to the depressed realization that I had a severe lack of cowardice. It was with this in mind, coupled with my deep love for the 19th century golden era of Russian literature that I evolved as the enlightened and absurd "Moth Ankles".
Born from the homage to the indomitable Cocaine Biceps aka Galaxy Knuckles aka Thor Molecules aka Ghostface Killah, the original iteration of this self was known as Meth Ankles.
As time wore in and my alter self became more self-aware, I was awoken to the depressed realization that I had a severe lack of cowardice. It was with this in mind, coupled with my deep love for the 19th century golden era of Russian literature that I evolved as the enlightened and absurd "Moth Ankles".
Saturday, January 4, 2014
The Ironic Case of Vladimir Putin an original essay by CutTheCrackJack [Draft]
[U][B]The Ironic Case of Vladimir Putin, an original essay on how an autocrat of the state exists because of the democracy of life.[/B][/U]
By most all biographical accounts, of which there are many, Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin has an affinity for vodka, stout German beers and telling vulgar jokes in even the most formal of settings.
Putin, in an effort to properly frame a vanity worthy of his post, will only deign to tranquilize bears, tigers and whales, ride horses through the Urals while topless and, though elaborately staged in the heavy handed way usually seen in the regimes of cherub-faced fat kids, when he swims the breast stroke for 200 meters in rivers or cliff dives into the Black Sea, his proud Slavic torso conjures up none of the silly and amateur shame one equates with the North Korean propaganda machine.
This is the profile of a man who, with a hard to substantiate at $40B in net worth, is estimated to be one of the world's richest men and who tops the Forbes list of “[I]Most powerful man in the world[/I]”.
Putin is also a 5'7, 160 pound, 61 year old man with a wedding singer-bad quality comb-over and a weird overbite thing going on.
He is not particularly intelligent or gifted, is not from a storied family or of wealth or prestige (actually, there is evidence that points to his actually being a pauper, ill-bred and being adopted), and he owes much of his amazing vertical march from the nadir of Russian society to his current perch on the peak to interpersonal relationships, risk and luck.
Relationships. Risk. Luck.
If those general ingredients sound vaguely familiar and comforting it is because those are exactly the same platitudes we stir together and sell as "The American Dream." Isn't it easy, then, to see how Vladimir Putin evokes such interest and fascination, if not outright empathy from American men of ability and ambition?
Ideologically neutral, joining a movement for only so long as it suits his personal and political needs until it no longer serves the self, Vladimir Putin embodies many of the characteristics of a generation- one that we deride here in America- that we call "The Millennials."
--
“You can do anything” I reiterated to my son after subjecting him to Pixar’s 2007 film Ratatouille whose democratizing and feel-good mantra “Anyone Can Cook” is underscored by the story’s ethereal donor Chef Gusteau.
And isn't that the point, that anyone can possibly do anything?
Almost. I hope to explain, and through great irony, how Vladimir Putin the despot ruler and indisputable bad ass of the world is one of the greatest threats to the world's torchbearer of Democracy* because of our world's inherent democracy vis-à-vis fatalism.
--
Anyone can do anything.
What I've left out up to this point is that the above is not true. At least it is not [i]entirely[/i] true if one realizes that what is omitted -- what we either don't say, realize or consciously know-- is that our life and accomplishments are inextricably slaves, chained to what exists as the current conditions or the foreseeable future conditions (which becomes a current condition) by what we can materially affect.
So what does that mean? Truly then, we cannot do "anything".
The extreme examples we see in history**, or anecdotally, are really not amazing and otherworldly feats but only extremely (and relatively) valuable outcomes from optimal conditions, within the confines of material space and time (which is our metaphysical limit). We are fated to exist in a world with preset physical laws, societies, culture and relative morality. To the extent we can affect our world is fated by our corporal temporal shelf-life and viability within the sandbox we were placed.
So what were the optimal conditions that gave rise to Russia being ruled for the last fifteen years by a poor, orphaned, wholly average, arguably sociopathic but otherwise nameless guy?
Extreme image crafting.
If you are on facebook, image crafting is something we see everyday through our network of friends and peers. At it's essence, it is manipulating and leveraging information (whether it be words, photos, locations, etc.) in order to affect and project an outward image in whichever way the crafter deems ideal.
Putin had the perfect opportunity to be an image crafter.
Putin joined a KGB that, contrary to popular American romanticism, was not a vodka-fueled mixture of the Russian version of the Soprano’s and a Mexican Gulf Cartel with a splash of 007, but was rather a bloated, bureaucratic version of our volunteer armed forces who sit behind desks.
He dicked around for a while making minimum wage in East Germany as the equivalent of a middle manager that kind of rises up through the system and gets a little savvier with each bump in raise and responsibility instead of petering out to the peter principle*** in St. Petersburg (okay, that was obnoxious I'll edit this out) until getting a break by way of a relationship he fostered to get into politics. Nobody can really explain the truth about this relationship as these two men, Putin and Sobchak, when asked even have conflicting messages and widely varying accounts of how their partnership came to life. How even now the real arrangement between the two men can be obscured with individual agenda and egotistical lobbying is because of the optimal condition Putin had the fortune of being in, which is to say his entrapment in a closed political system with an unremarkable career in the KGB.
By the time Putin reached an unlikely position of prominence and influence, he was able to basically invent his own credibility and qualifications without any of the negative blow back that we’d see in more transparent political and societal systems. Simply put, Putin had the good fortune of growing up in a time and in a society that allowed him to write his own ticket by giving him the liberty to create his own back story and mythology.
In these optimal conditions, that of statist Russia “Anyone can be anything” if one can will it as Napoleon with deceit and mere say-so, creating a true democratic dynamic. This democratic dynamic is what lead to Putin become the antithesis of democracy, and I for one am tickled pink (no pun intended).
[i]Notes:[/i]
The presupposition is that one's psychological and physical make-up is ideal and optimal within whatever conditions one finds oneself being born into. In this instance, being a sociopath with a sizable ego and a modicum of luck was inherent to Putin and a genetic advantage.
* Democracy is Not My Standard: An Essay by CTCJ
http://cutthecrackjack.blogspot.com/2013/04/democracy-is-not-my-standard.html
**http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Man_theory
***http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_Principle
By most all biographical accounts, of which there are many, Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin has an affinity for vodka, stout German beers and telling vulgar jokes in even the most formal of settings.
Putin, in an effort to properly frame a vanity worthy of his post, will only deign to tranquilize bears, tigers and whales, ride horses through the Urals while topless and, though elaborately staged in the heavy handed way usually seen in the regimes of cherub-faced fat kids, when he swims the breast stroke for 200 meters in rivers or cliff dives into the Black Sea, his proud Slavic torso conjures up none of the silly and amateur shame one equates with the North Korean propaganda machine.
This is the profile of a man who, with a hard to substantiate at $40B in net worth, is estimated to be one of the world's richest men and who tops the Forbes list of “[I]Most powerful man in the world[/I]”.
Putin is also a 5'7, 160 pound, 61 year old man with a wedding singer-bad quality comb-over and a weird overbite thing going on.
He is not particularly intelligent or gifted, is not from a storied family or of wealth or prestige (actually, there is evidence that points to his actually being a pauper, ill-bred and being adopted), and he owes much of his amazing vertical march from the nadir of Russian society to his current perch on the peak to interpersonal relationships, risk and luck.
Relationships. Risk. Luck.
If those general ingredients sound vaguely familiar and comforting it is because those are exactly the same platitudes we stir together and sell as "The American Dream." Isn't it easy, then, to see how Vladimir Putin evokes such interest and fascination, if not outright empathy from American men of ability and ambition?
Ideologically neutral, joining a movement for only so long as it suits his personal and political needs until it no longer serves the self, Vladimir Putin embodies many of the characteristics of a generation- one that we deride here in America- that we call "The Millennials."
--
“You can do anything” I reiterated to my son after subjecting him to Pixar’s 2007 film Ratatouille whose democratizing and feel-good mantra “Anyone Can Cook” is underscored by the story’s ethereal donor Chef Gusteau.
And isn't that the point, that anyone can possibly do anything?
Almost. I hope to explain, and through great irony, how Vladimir Putin the despot ruler and indisputable bad ass of the world is one of the greatest threats to the world's torchbearer of Democracy* because of our world's inherent democracy vis-à-vis fatalism.
--
Anyone can do anything.
What I've left out up to this point is that the above is not true. At least it is not [i]entirely[/i] true if one realizes that what is omitted -- what we either don't say, realize or consciously know-- is that our life and accomplishments are inextricably slaves, chained to what exists as the current conditions or the foreseeable future conditions (which becomes a current condition) by what we can materially affect.
So what does that mean? Truly then, we cannot do "anything".
The extreme examples we see in history**, or anecdotally, are really not amazing and otherworldly feats but only extremely (and relatively) valuable outcomes from optimal conditions, within the confines of material space and time (which is our metaphysical limit). We are fated to exist in a world with preset physical laws, societies, culture and relative morality. To the extent we can affect our world is fated by our corporal temporal shelf-life and viability within the sandbox we were placed.
So what were the optimal conditions that gave rise to Russia being ruled for the last fifteen years by a poor, orphaned, wholly average, arguably sociopathic but otherwise nameless guy?
Extreme image crafting.
If you are on facebook, image crafting is something we see everyday through our network of friends and peers. At it's essence, it is manipulating and leveraging information (whether it be words, photos, locations, etc.) in order to affect and project an outward image in whichever way the crafter deems ideal.
Putin had the perfect opportunity to be an image crafter.
Putin joined a KGB that, contrary to popular American romanticism, was not a vodka-fueled mixture of the Russian version of the Soprano’s and a Mexican Gulf Cartel with a splash of 007, but was rather a bloated, bureaucratic version of our volunteer armed forces who sit behind desks.
He dicked around for a while making minimum wage in East Germany as the equivalent of a middle manager that kind of rises up through the system and gets a little savvier with each bump in raise and responsibility instead of petering out to the peter principle*** in St. Petersburg (okay, that was obnoxious I'll edit this out) until getting a break by way of a relationship he fostered to get into politics. Nobody can really explain the truth about this relationship as these two men, Putin and Sobchak, when asked even have conflicting messages and widely varying accounts of how their partnership came to life. How even now the real arrangement between the two men can be obscured with individual agenda and egotistical lobbying is because of the optimal condition Putin had the fortune of being in, which is to say his entrapment in a closed political system with an unremarkable career in the KGB.
By the time Putin reached an unlikely position of prominence and influence, he was able to basically invent his own credibility and qualifications without any of the negative blow back that we’d see in more transparent political and societal systems. Simply put, Putin had the good fortune of growing up in a time and in a society that allowed him to write his own ticket by giving him the liberty to create his own back story and mythology.
In these optimal conditions, that of statist Russia “Anyone can be anything” if one can will it as Napoleon with deceit and mere say-so, creating a true democratic dynamic. This democratic dynamic is what lead to Putin become the antithesis of democracy, and I for one am tickled pink (no pun intended).
[i]Notes:[/i]
The presupposition is that one's psychological and physical make-up is ideal and optimal within whatever conditions one finds oneself being born into. In this instance, being a sociopath with a sizable ego and a modicum of luck was inherent to Putin and a genetic advantage.
* Democracy is Not My Standard: An Essay by CTCJ
http://cutthecrackjack.blogspot.com/2013/04/democracy-is-not-my-standard.html
**http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Man_theory
***http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_Principle
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
I am sad for Justin
Gosh, that video above of Justin Beiber trying to fight the paparazzi is sad.
I know it's supposed to be funny and I'm supposed to take joy in making fun of this guy, but all I see is a tragedy. The poor guy never had a chance.
Once he got famous, as just an innocent little boy, his fate was sealed. I'm of the opinion that nobody can be well-adjusted and emotionally healthy if subjected to the celebrity machine, in our society, before or during those transformative years where our brain and psyche and psychology are developing. I think being used by the celebrity machine at an early age causes an acute flavor of mental illness what likely he will (if he doesn't already) and others like him (who, just off the top of my head who I've read about on shaggy include Lohan and Amanda Byrnes) suffer.
The best and most noble thing you can do is to martyr yourself for your family. He should maximize his earning potential, procreate as much as possible, put a shit ton of money into accounts for his progeny with stipulations like "must never act/record/whatever in Hollywood" and "must go to school" or it's forfeited, and then self-medicate with whatever interests and pleases you, living like an emotionally stunted and developmentally arrested "hedonist" who, in an ultimate twist of irony, is irrationally hated by all the "normal" people who misinterpret his confusion and misery as undeserved privilege and new age douchebaggery.
Seriously, I've seen more sympathy and understanding for convicted killers, homeless people, and other criminally insane than the hate for celebrities who fall off the deep end.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Advanced Mathematics
I am/was terrible in Math and I was grateful UT offered M308D (or
something like that), called Math for Non-Science majors, more commonly
and affectionately known around the frat house as "Hot Girl Math".
That being said, I have an enormous amount of respect and reverence for Math and what I perceive to be it's role in our world. That is, a perpetual tool that can eventually illustrate, design, develop, build, break and explain everything possible in our material world. Because I believe Math to be so inherent in our world and so naturally rewarding to man and mankind, I've often pondered two things:
1) For as smart as I perceive myself to be, why was advanced math so excruciatingly difficult (not just unnatural in a prodigy sense, but painfully foreign to my being and natural self)? It's not that I didn't have the interest to arm myself with math or I lacked the good sense to realize advanced math is one of the most valuable weapons we as people can arm ourselves with, but there was a definite dearth of genius and interest in math itself which made it hard for me to develop and focus on it. I've wondered if it was a thing -- a psychological thing, an environmental thing, genetic thing or if I was just born devoid of the aptitude and ability necessary to understand what is understandable in this world. In other words, I question if I was born a weak, runty and inferior man meant to either assist or stay out of the way; a civilian casualty of man's war on nature and himself. Jonathan Gonnet: Failed experiment #980,003,344,298,484,300 in a world that has seen few truly born.
2) I am not convinced that Math is truly a "Universal" language and would be something an other-worldly being would find as valuable as us. I'm not sure one can ever evaluate and experiment with that, but even if they could, it would probably, literally, beg the question (as it would be through math) and I would be as I am now, impotently unaware.
For these two reasons it is my belief one must try to not only live but advance that with which one has been born an innate, natural understanding and fellowship. I am warmed to know that in me grows a deep and profound love for advanced, genius-level mathematicians and the past math pioneers as they make me want to be a part of "humanity" because I become aware that I alone cannot exist in the world, I need others.
That being said, I have an enormous amount of respect and reverence for Math and what I perceive to be it's role in our world. That is, a perpetual tool that can eventually illustrate, design, develop, build, break and explain everything possible in our material world. Because I believe Math to be so inherent in our world and so naturally rewarding to man and mankind, I've often pondered two things:
1) For as smart as I perceive myself to be, why was advanced math so excruciatingly difficult (not just unnatural in a prodigy sense, but painfully foreign to my being and natural self)? It's not that I didn't have the interest to arm myself with math or I lacked the good sense to realize advanced math is one of the most valuable weapons we as people can arm ourselves with, but there was a definite dearth of genius and interest in math itself which made it hard for me to develop and focus on it. I've wondered if it was a thing -- a psychological thing, an environmental thing, genetic thing or if I was just born devoid of the aptitude and ability necessary to understand what is understandable in this world. In other words, I question if I was born a weak, runty and inferior man meant to either assist or stay out of the way; a civilian casualty of man's war on nature and himself. Jonathan Gonnet: Failed experiment #980,003,344,298,484,300 in a world that has seen few truly born.
2) I am not convinced that Math is truly a "Universal" language and would be something an other-worldly being would find as valuable as us. I'm not sure one can ever evaluate and experiment with that, but even if they could, it would probably, literally, beg the question (as it would be through math) and I would be as I am now, impotently unaware.
For these two reasons it is my belief one must try to not only live but advance that with which one has been born an innate, natural understanding and fellowship. I am warmed to know that in me grows a deep and profound love for advanced, genius-level mathematicians and the past math pioneers as they make me want to be a part of "humanity" because I become aware that I alone cannot exist in the world, I need others.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Vincent Paul until I croak
As
Packer fans enter into the last stages of preseason football and start
to see depth charts shake out and roster moves being made, I wanted to
take a moment to explain what you may see as the insane following that
VY has, despite everything that has happened to him and because of him.
For those who don't understand the irrational infatuation and love that some of us have for VY, I’ll hazard a guess that you aren't a male, aged 26-36. You probably weren't on campus or associated with UT in the middle of VY-mania and you didn't have a front row seat on the round trip ride that VY took those of us on from 2004-2006 which is why your views and opinions on the matter are, pun irascibly intended, pedestrian.
We root for him and believe in him partly because we’ve witnessed firsthand the magic but also because he is part of our extended family. You won’t understand the attention and hope we emit because If you were in that aforementioned demographic, then you'd know that somewhere on that timeline in the mid 2000’s, our Longhorn Football fandom and VY’s DNA, like some Jeff Goldblum 80’s horror movie with terrible costumography, got mixed up together and we will now be forever be tied with each other.
For my part, I am far from a Longhorn super fan. I didn’t grow up a Longhorn fan despite living in Dallas and I barely even liked the team until the Spring I found out I’d be attending UT. But to this day, I will root for VY to make an NFL team and believe that he can one day be a Superbowl winning quarterback and will continue to advocate his candidacy until his viable days are effectively finished. At that point in time, I will wear my faded #10 shirt on game days and will regale my children - and their children and their children's children- with the oral folklore of VY, complete with (probably) exaggerated tales of heroism, strength and miraculous ability like those before me have done with the likes of Paul Bunyon and some carpenter from Galilee.
During the holidays he will be there in our homes as we pop in the DVD of the 2005 Rose Bowl and get drunk on nostalgia and egg nog—the reason for the season after all—because what is not understood to those unafflicted is that there is a neuron path carved into our brains others lack that will always compel us to root for VY while, taking the good with the bad, hoisting him as our champion and viewing him as an extended member of our family.
Either that or you are a shitty Longhorn fan and, clearly, you should hate yourself.
VY until I motherfucking die (here on known as #VYtilIdie)
P.S. Graham Harrell sucks and Aaron Rodgers can be hit by a bus.
For those who don't understand the irrational infatuation and love that some of us have for VY, I’ll hazard a guess that you aren't a male, aged 26-36. You probably weren't on campus or associated with UT in the middle of VY-mania and you didn't have a front row seat on the round trip ride that VY took those of us on from 2004-2006 which is why your views and opinions on the matter are, pun irascibly intended, pedestrian.
We root for him and believe in him partly because we’ve witnessed firsthand the magic but also because he is part of our extended family. You won’t understand the attention and hope we emit because If you were in that aforementioned demographic, then you'd know that somewhere on that timeline in the mid 2000’s, our Longhorn Football fandom and VY’s DNA, like some Jeff Goldblum 80’s horror movie with terrible costumography, got mixed up together and we will now be forever be tied with each other.
For my part, I am far from a Longhorn super fan. I didn’t grow up a Longhorn fan despite living in Dallas and I barely even liked the team until the Spring I found out I’d be attending UT. But to this day, I will root for VY to make an NFL team and believe that he can one day be a Superbowl winning quarterback and will continue to advocate his candidacy until his viable days are effectively finished. At that point in time, I will wear my faded #10 shirt on game days and will regale my children - and their children and their children's children- with the oral folklore of VY, complete with (probably) exaggerated tales of heroism, strength and miraculous ability like those before me have done with the likes of Paul Bunyon and some carpenter from Galilee.
During the holidays he will be there in our homes as we pop in the DVD of the 2005 Rose Bowl and get drunk on nostalgia and egg nog—the reason for the season after all—because what is not understood to those unafflicted is that there is a neuron path carved into our brains others lack that will always compel us to root for VY while, taking the good with the bad, hoisting him as our champion and viewing him as an extended member of our family.
Either that or you are a shitty Longhorn fan and, clearly, you should hate yourself.
VY until I motherfucking die (here on known as #VYtilIdie)
P.S. Graham Harrell sucks and Aaron Rodgers can be hit by a bus.
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