"I'm sure he just got tied up in court again."

I was suppose to go hang out with a buddy last night. Nothing big, just someone I hadn't seen in a while...but it never happened. He just never showed up or called. The reason I bring this is not because I was really that upset about it specifically, but more aggrevated about it generally.

"I don't think I've ever been to an appointment in my life where I wanted the other guy to show up."

In Hong Kong we called it "getting fonged," fong being short for a chinese idiom that means a person didn't make it to their appointment because they fell out of the plane on the way. And as satisfying as the image might be, you still felt disheartened and a bit rejected. Additionally far more aggrevating than not having any appointments all day was having a day of appointments where no one shows up because they overslept, had to meet someone, or just plain forgot.

"Why did you ask me to come here?"
"Oh, I was going to drop that tree on you."
"That big one?"
"Yeah."
"It would've flattened me like a pancake."

And perhaps there was a time where I was the guy fonging others. One time it took three seperate attempts for me to meet this girl at the ATMs on campus to do the library tour for english class. But now, I get so impatient and almost offended when people don't show up or fulfill there commitments. Like a kid waiting for his mom to pick him up from swim practice on a hot summer day or after football practice on a rainy afternoon. Dozens of or cutting rebukes on their lack of character and relative resposibility. Remarks that never come to an audible fruition when contrasted to the real reasoning behind their absence or delay; something like projectile vomiting or the car blowing up in a fiery explosion. I mean, come on, it's hard to be mad at someone for that. And maybe my expectations for others shouldn't surpass my own abilities. It's not like people call me Mr. Dependability...

"Don't do this to me, I have to go play with my son. I'm Jose Canseco, I'm Jose Canseco!"

... just Mr. Awesome.

"Mortal Kombat for the Sega Genesis is the greatest game ever..."

Well, Halo 2 is out.

"You know my great-great-grandfather Angus Griffin invented the game."

I wanted to write about this yesterday but got distracted halfway through writing and then in my gusto to get home and...well, play Halo 2, I closed the window without even saving what I had. And just let the record show, I do love Halo 2. It's gorgeous, very customizable, and above all else...it's a new game. But I'm not without my reservations and problems with the game.

"Oh, it's Cricket. Marvelous game, really. You see, the bowler hurls the ball toward the batter who tries to play away a fine leg. He endeavors to score by dashing between the creases, provided the wicket keeper hasn't whipped his bails off, of course."

In order change things up and improve them they seem to have made things unnecessarily complicated. There are no long big open levels or simple logical lay-outs, rather most of the maps are filled with obstacles and hindering terrain. New weapons and the ability to wield two weapons at the same time often leaves me standing over a gun for 30 seconds trying figure out exactly what weapon or combination of weapons I want.

"It's easy when you play with rejects and a fat kid, Rodriguez."

And I don't like to brag, but I was good at Halo 1. And what made me love it all the more was that I came into it from the bottom; being ridiculously beaten on every hand, to being the leader in kills. But the parts that I loved and got good at in Halo (specifically pistol fights in big open spaces)...are gone from the new incarnation and I am left sort of left with a nostalgic yearning for my comfort zone. Blood Gulch, a pistol, and Capture the Flag.

"Man, I did love this game. I'd have played for food money. It was the game... The sounds, the smells."

What made Halo a classic was not so much the game, but the people. Halo was only as fun as the friends you played with. It was about scraping together enough boxes, getting a comfortable seat, and rallying together as a team. Yelling out directions, whispering strategies to your teammate, going downstairs to rub in the glorious victory, or locking the door and turning out the lights to hide the shame of your loss. And while the medium has changed slightly, I guess I'll just have to wait and see if Halo 2 will bring together friends and good times like its predecessor did and still does...

"...Donkey Kong sucks."
"You know what? You suck."

"How am I not myself?"

I guess I get too ambitious and write long pretentious posts about imagined conflicts or futile analogies...or I write nothing at all. Consistency, I think I want consistency now. Not just consistency in my bjournal, but consistency in my life. But consistency can rapidly become routine, and routine can lead to boredom. So I guess I want some varied and exciting consistency. And I want a spear that can pierce any shield and a shield that is impervious to all spears.

"Everything is the same even if it's different."

Perhaps I feel like a contradiction myself. A contradiction born in indifference. Knowing what should be done, but failing to do so. Knowing what shouldn't be done, but failing to refrain. Nothing major or of a serious nature, yet that makes it all the more rational and justifiable.

"You see Bob, it's not that I'm lazy, it's that I just don't care."

And that's where the real contradiction comes in. I know I should care. I feel the conflict within and try to remain a Switzerland in my own life. It's Dustin's own defense system, if there is an emotional wound or leak anywhere I just lock down everything until I get it under control. The problem is that this defense mechanism is so well tuned and automated, it happens without my knowledge or even consent. And before I know it, I don't feel.

"And suddenly I felt nothing. I couldn't cry. So, once again, I couldn't sleep."

But it's the easy way out. And sadly, that is what I tend to look for -- the easy way out. I don't look for the difficult or most challenging manner of action. No that sounds like work. And while I have been known to knuckle down and do hard work from time to time (or even for a two year period), it's usually because I'm out of options or there is no options. And sadly enough, barely dodging the bullet doesn't seem to make me that much more likely to avoid gunfire, it seems only to affirm my own ability to dodge bullets. I imagine it's like a soldier who survives several dozen battles, no longer sees each missed shot or dodged bullet as miraculous or spectacular, but rather sees it as common or expected. Shots riddling all around you and your not worried about the next clip unloaded at you or the one that just missed you, you've grown apathetic. If the next one gets you, that sucks and if it misses you that's rad. You feel like you have not control over your destiny and "suddenly you become euphoric, docile, you accept your fate."

"I just don't think I can continue to live in a place that embraces and nurtures apathy as if it was virtue...I didn't say I was different or better. I'm not. Hell, I sympathize; I sympathize completely. Apathy is the solution. I mean, it's easier to lose yourself in drugs than it is to cope with life. It's easier to steal what you want than it is to earn it. It's easier to beat a child than it is to raise it. Hell, love costs: it takes effort and work."

Dallin Oaks just spoke at the devotional and the topic of his talk was "Where will this lead?" Which makes me think...where WILL this lead? That, is an excellent question.

"Feel better, champ."

...myself?