I'm going to be in London for the next couple days. I apologize for the weak posts recently, but I will try to start posting with renewed fervor when I get back. I made this post mainly so I could use the phrase "renewed fervor." Colt McCoy, you should have played.

A Comment on Previous Posts and Regarding Comments

I can't sleep. In addition to this, I felt the need to discuss some earlier posts and so here I am at 3:00 AM posting to my blog. Great. First off, I apparently am very wrong in my post about monopolies in regards to the makers of airplanes, as Joe was so kind to point out to me by sending me this link. In my defense, I was mainly talking about the big planes that airlines use rather than smaller private planes like Cessnas, but I'm sure that list has a little bit of everything. Moving on.

Secondly, maybe "In Defense of Words" was a bit harsh and even unnecessary. I like pictures, I find them very useful. They show exactly what is there, although the photographer can sometimes manipulate what is seen by focusing on different things he sees. I think that's true, I'm not a photographer. Either way, if you have a huge zit on your forehead on school portrait day that sucker will most definitely be seen in your picture and laughed at by all your family forever. Pictures are good for at least that.

Third. It has come to my attention that Invictus lied again, this time in its casting of Matt Damon as Francois Pienaard. As Bill Simmons of ESPN.com points out in his column, Pienaard was 6'3" and was a physical specimen, a beast on the rugby pitch/field/whatever. Matt Damon, though he can kill you with a rolled up magazine and humiliate you in a Harvard bah, is none of these things. He is from Boston though so we can let it slide this time.

One last thing. If you like, don't like, or have anything at all to say about any post on here, feel free to leave a comment. At the least it lets me know that people are reading what I have to say. I don't know if you need a Blogger account or something, I guess if you do need to make an account you don't have to go through the trouble just to leave a comment and stoke the flames of my vanity (does that even make sense?). I understand and I forgive you. I'll try to stop making long and annoying titles and start posting actual things again. It's just sort of fun in a nerdy way to make up ridiculous and obnoxious titles, but I will stop. Maybe. That is all, thank you and good night.

The River

His broken heart leapt when he caught sight of the river. Within the river lay his only chance of fixing the disaster that had become his life, and so he made his desperate journey, praying for the strength he knew he would need. His car jumped and rattled along the hidden dirt road. He had navigated the road countless times before, but never with such a dire task as now. He paid no heed to the rocks and bumps in the road, choosing rather to punish himself and the car, wanting to feel the pain of every jolt.

The car reached the end of the road. He killed the engine, put the keys in the cupholder, and gently closed the door behind him. As he walked to the bank of the river, he knew a perfection not found in this world.  Stepping into the flowing water, he felt an peace more absolute than he had ever before imagined. She would haunt him no more. 

Previously Promised Pictures of New Hampshire

 

A Moment of Introspection with a Troubling Conclusion

I learned something about myself today. I'm not sure if it's a good thing. I went to my little brother's youth hockey game  because he needed a ride and my dad thought it would be good if I went and showed brotherly support. He's at the Pee Wee level, which, for those not acquainted with the sport, is the first level that allows checking. Over the years I've been to an inappropriate number of youth hockey games, both as a player and to appease my parents' desire that I support the brothers. Of these games, Pee Wee games have always been my favorite, partly because the skill level is a little higher than the younger divisions but mostly because checking is permitted. While watching the game today and seeing 11 and 12 year olds running each other into the boards, I realized that I don't entirely blame hockey dads for their tendency to try to fight parents of the kids on the opposing team. I think that nothing gets my bloodlust going more than youth hockey, specifically at levels that allow checking. I don't know why, but something inside me clicks and all I want to see are little kids from Needham destroy the little kids from whatever town they are playing. Even worse, a lot of the time I want nothing more than to suit up and ruin some middle schooler's day. My kids should not play hockey.

Problems 2

I keep trying to change the font color and type on here so that all of it is the same, but it isn't working out. I guess when I choose a color and font under the settings part of this site it doesn't change existing posts, just new ones. I'm not positive that this is what happens but it is my assumption and I will stick to it until further knowledge is attained. Were I a philosopher one would call me a pragmatist. I think that sentence is correct but it might not be, I would appreciate it if you, the reader, could tell me how to correctly word it. Thank you.

There were going to be some words here about friends and such but I got distracted and lost motivation. I'll try again another night. Sorry for the letdown.

Problems

There's something wrong with the post below and it's bothering me.