Armageddon

In case you haven't heard. The world is going to end some time around mid December, the 21st to be exact. I am exceptionally pissed since it means that Christmas will most likely be canceled. Whether you believe this will happen or not, I feel compelled to provide this as a public service:

In preparation for the end of days, I have 

decided to dedicate this blog to a month 

of signs that the apocalypse is upon us! 

... I know today is the 20th, but I don't think I'll have time to post on the actual day of reckoning, and I wouldn't want to short change you a day!


Day 1

Not Frodo and Sam

Mount Doom from The Lord of the Rings movies is about to erupt. Geologists are predicting that pressure is building up inside the exact same volcano that Peter Jackson decided looked like the place that created the most evil piece of metal in middle earth. Many of you may not know this, but Tolkien was a devout Christian, and many of his themes are derived from Judeo-Christian themes and symbolism. "Dooms" Day, Mount "Doom", coincidence?

football

Notre Dame football is ranked number one in the country. And it is completely irrational that I am deriving so much joy from it. I have no vested interest in the outcome of their season. I never attended school there. I have never lived in South Bend. I don't know anyone on the team or associated with the program. Yet I find myself saying "we" when referring to the team. I will shout at the television, as if the linebackers can hear me yelling, "It's a draw!" or "Fumble! Ball! Get the Ball!" I even wear clothing in order that others may associate me with the Fighting Irish. I rank my visits to Notre Dame Stadium as some of the most exhilarating moments of my life. I am a fan.
     Now let's move from Fandom to Obsessionville. If you look for it on a map, it will say Levittown. I'm not saying that other areas don't produce as vociferous fans, just not in the multitudes that exist in the greater Philadelphia area. There is something about sports here, that fills more than just that need to associate with something greater than oneself. This is particularly true with the Eagles. I've worked with, lived with, went to school with fans of other teams from other places. I have yet to see a group of people take a loss harder than Eagles fans. On Monday morning you would think that they were in pads the day before. Listen to the two (two!) FM radio stations that are all Philadelphia sports all the time. I'm afraid we may need to close the bridges over the Delaware river to prevent jumpers! Every forlorn caller, they aren't even mad anymore, just sullen and depressed. They have this weird "How could my team do this to me?"
     The odd thing here is that they have developed a one way personal relationship with a sports team. They have committed hours to reading stats, watching drafts, driving up to Bethlehem to watch summer workouts, and invested real emotional capital. If this kind of attention were directed towards a human being, like say Jody Foster, we'd suggest that they should seek professional help. They than expect that the team has a duty to repay them for all the diligent time they have invested in supporting them. There it is. The line is crossed when someone creates an imaginary relationship in order to associate themselves with success. There is a vapidness that goes along with this type of seeking. That sports team allows you to "win" without putting in the real work. The reality is though that your support or ennui has no impact whatsoever on the success of your team. That is the dirty secret that lies underneath this macho version of celebrity worship. They don't care about you. They don't even know you exist. No matter how hard you root, how much you lust after the Lombardi trophy, how much time you spend reading ESPN, they will not play harder for you. I heard a guy on the radio say that he may never see his team win a Superbowl in his lifetime, with the angst of a "Make A Wish" foundation spot. I love football as much as anyone, pretty much sports in general. My fear is that people are using sports as a "false idol", a thing to distract them from whats really important. If you never put that effort into your own happiness, into your own betterment, the Eagles can win the Superbowl, but you'll still be a loser.

Think like a Genius

I have made a hobby of reading great thinkers. I wanted to originally make a career of studying them, but the minutiae involved in the academic side of studying great minds proved too taxing (I'd say mundane, but I'd hate to insult any philosophy professors who might be reading this). I have always been particularly drawn to those who deal in Ethics. That's a dangerous word to use, because it usually evokes numerous impressions in the perceiver. None of which I probably intended. I'm talking about Ethics, with a capital 'E'. I'm not talking about right/wrong, good/bad, God's will/intrinsic good distinctions. I'm talking about attempting to answer the question, "What does it mean to live a good life?" Again, don't mistake good as in moral good, but good like "that was a good beer". I think this is really the original purpose of Ethics. We've sort of bastardized the meaning into something that roughly means, "How do I decide what is right and wrong, when there are conflicting values in play?" Sartre does a beautiful job illustrating this in Being and Nothingness, when he talks about his student who must choose between fighting against the Nazis or caring for his mother. Without going into too much detail, we can see how both would be really good things and based on your take on the world, one may be better than the other. Congratulations, you now know as much as a sophomore at a liberal arts college.
     So after reading Aristotle, Aquinas, Jesus, Buddha, Plato, Rawls, Sartre, etc. I set out to formulate my own ethical path, to try and devise my blue print for leading a good life. There is no word in English that does a good job of describing what this ultimate goal is. In religion it would be heaven or nirvana. I want to call it "the big happy". A happiness that is complete and self sustaining. So I took little pieces of Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics, and tried to Know Thyself, and do nothing to excess. I bought deep into Sartre and tried to live in the moment. I pulled pieces of Buddha's teaching of non-attachment and sought a life uncluttered by desire. What I ended up with was a constant sense of yearning and second guessing. The biggest problem was that I kept running into conflicts along the way. Who knew that Aquinas wasn't going to jive with Confucius?!
     I put this quest on the shelf and concentrated on everything else. I got a real job (not teaching philosophy). I got a wife, a house, some hobbies, I traveled, I started attending mass regularly. Once I did all the modern, proscribed paths and attainments, the question popped up again and stared me dead in the face. I imagine this is when those who are unprepared for the question drop into a midlife crisis. Lucky for me, I had a quarterlife crisis to prep me for it. The interesting thing is that the answer was so obvious, that I was amazed that I hadn't come upon before. It was definitely an epiphany, a discovery, and not anything I had created. The discovery is that there is a central theme to all of these thinkers and I had never seen it. My original thought was that we are supposed to be turning our eye inward, perfecting ourselves. I then moved on to the idea that we are supposed to live our life for others and turn outward, being completely selfless. My next step was thinking that happiness was sort of process based, that our relationships determine our level of satisfaction and sense of wholeness.
     What I didn't see was that these are all interconnected. Every single great ethicist has stated pretty much the same thing. We must set ourselves up as examples. Sartre says that we are solely responsible for our existence and in turn how live is a statement to the rest of the world that this is the best life possible. Christianity stated that we are the light of the world. Every one you read has an example of this kind of language. Essentially, we are to be the person that we want the world to be. An obvious statement if ever there was one, but that still doesn't state what one does to achieve that. And don't we all have different visions of what the perfect world would be like? To answer that I took a page from Kant. We are human beings, persons, and in essence, want to be treated as such. Then in order to be treated like such, I must create a world where that happens. Therefore, I need to treat everyone like people. I need to really think about that what that means. Simple things like being patient in traffic or making eye contact with the person behind the register are a start. That leads to bigger steps, like ensuring those around me can become fulfilled and that I am not simply using them as vehicles to my happiness. Until finally there is the apex of the life well lived, not from selflessness, but from selfishness. My desire to live in a world where I am treated as someone special and important, drives me to treat others as special and important. I need to keep myself grounded at this moment and not degenerate into the feel good, "everyone is special" mindset that is plaguing our society today. The road to happiness is paved with humility. That humility is the certainty that my happiness is contingent on helping others to that place and allowing myself to be helped by them.

wise up

I will not talk about politics. I just can't bring myself to do it. Unless you feel that politics are people strongly expressing their ideas about how society should work. And now I think I just described Facebook. This is really my issue with people getting political, or fired up about their beliefs in general.
We're doing it wrong! No one, but no one, changed their mind about the election because you posted a witty "meme" picture. No one stopped believing in Creationism or Evolution or the flying spaghetti monster or that Star Wars is better than Lord of the Rings because of your three sentence, deconstructed, argument. It's lazy proselytism. A fellow blogging friend of mine (who loves politics way more than I do: www.hocorising.com ), suggested that if we really cared about who won, we would be volunteering our time, worrying more about local elections that we can effect, and more importantly, educating ourselves. I hate blanket statements, and I have no research to back it up, but I imagine that most people have no idea why they really voted for a particular candidate. They, in actuality, have no idea what each party, candidate or even a single platform entails. They buy into nice platitudes, "Republicans hate poor people" "Democrats are Socialists" "There's more than two parties?"... I could go on. Now look, I'm not saying that social media, or media in general, is a bad thing. I'm not saying that people using it to spread an idea is a bad thing. It's a bad thing when we think that it is persuasive, or should be used as a club to beat dissenters over the head with. This is the whole crux of the blog, so I want you to pay attention to the next sentence. It is good for spreading information. That's it. Would you like to share an obscure piece of policy that will have a long term effect on our trade with Canada? Great! You want to direct me to a website where I can read about a lesser known candidate? Lay it on me! You know where I can find Bob Casey's voting record? I'm salivating! The president giving a fist pound to a guy with a mop next to a picture of Romney getting his shoes shined?
Moving on. These last couple of months have really just been illustrative to one simple fact. I do not believe that we are apathetic. I think we care a lot. We are however, lazy and willfully ignorant. Don't get offended, I  am including myself in the "we". I know, I know, we work hard and don't have time to follow politics, educate ourselves on policy, worry about brown and tan people being killed overseas. But I will argue that it's not time, it's priorities. We somehow find time to follow seven different television shows. We find time to go out to dinner. We find time to pic up junior from soccer practice and take him to piano lessons. I'm not being critical of any of those things, but we are in control of what we deem important.
[So this is the part where you are waiting for me to be critical of our democratic process, or criticize super PACs. Actually, it's the opposite. The problem isn't the system, it's the fact that we believe that the system will fix things. That's the equivalent of buying a lawn mower and then bitching that the lawn still isn't mowed. You still have to use it!]
But that doesn't make us lazy, just uncaring. The sad thing is, when we really do look at those issues we decide they are important. So then we aren't uncaring. So then what are we? We are humans, and as such animals. Animals seek pleasure and avoid pain. We follow the path the least resistance when we allow our baser instincts to take over. It's hard to live in a life of constant focus. It's unpleasant to question our beliefs. And here's the hardest thing: There is so much effort in having an intelligent, meaningful discussion with another human being. Ask yourself, how much time do I spend each day really talking about the things that matter to me, to people that matter to me? Have we become so post modern that we have completely replaced real human interaction with social media? I think the real culprit is not the tool, but our fear. The scariest thing about entering into a conversation with someone of a differing opinion is that they might change our mind! These beliefs that we've spent years cultivating, supporting, polishing, might be wrong! Seriously, just pick one thing that you are really passionate about and learn everything you can about it. Form a real opinion about said thing. Then go and talk to someone about it. Really talk about it. Once you do that, you may be surprised to find much less satiety in your former channels of communication.

Ireland

From the title, you're probably figuring out why I haven't blogged in a while. While the subject matter of this blog is supposed to be about Levittown, I feel I would be remiss to not speak about my time in one of the most amazing places on earth. I have so many amazing memories and emotions left over from Ireland. My explaining it in detail would probably be as exciting as a vacation slide show, so I'll just give you things that surprised me about Ireland.

First are the speed limit signs. I know that the Irish can have a droll sense of humor, but they border on the absurd with this. It's an amazingly disheartening experience when you are crawling along a mountain pass, with nothing but the Atlantic Ocean and certain death to one side and 4 million tons of Irish granite to the other side of a road about as wide as a queen size bed, and you turn a corner to see a 100 kph sign (about 60 miles an hour for those bad at conversions). I later asked a bartender if people really drove that fast, or if it was a plan by the Irish government to keep the population down. He said that after the EU came and invested in a new Irish infrastructure they had signs left over and had to put them somewhere. I laughed, he didn't.

The Guinness tastes the same in Ireland. I even went to the Guinness Storehouse, it's all in your head. The difference in the Smithwick's on the other hand is almost worth the trip by itself. While on the topic, Dublin is way more fun after two flights of Jameson tastings (and finishing what your wife couldn't). Tullamore Dew makes a single malt. I'm mad at myself now for not buying it when I saw it. I have no idea if they sell it in the states.

No one listens to Irish music in Ireland. I asked a bartender (I think you are probably picking up on the pattern of how I discerned all my information) why every place I went played American music from the 80s. He didn't explain the Irish love affair with The Thompson Twins, but he did explain that during the summer season that's all they hear. We arrived at the tail end of the tourist season and the locals want nothing to do with the "diddly dee" music in October. I suppose for us, it would be like hearing Yankee Doodle Dandy or You Are My Sunshine over and over again. When I arrived in Dublin on the last leg of the trip, I got a taste of what he was talking about. Everything geared towards tourists plays the same 4 stinking songs over and over again. I now unwittingly know all the words to Sweet Molly Malone, Black Velvet Band, The Irish Rover and Whiskey In The Jar. (oh, and I had to ask, Christmas in Killarney is not a big deal, it really is just an American musical.)

Now before I visited the emerald isle, I was aware of an old tradition referred to as Bleigharty. This was a mischievous practice by the Irish natives of doing things to mess with the English land owners to keep them always guessing. Although none of the "helpful" folks we met would admit to it, I'm pretty sure the tradition is alive and well. This is how I discovered the aforementioned roads in the Ring of Skellig and Connor's Pass. That's right, I fell for it twice. This is probably the same vein in which the fella at the Jameson distillery gave my wife a shot on the house, when she mentioned she was having trouble getting through the tasting. Please don't mistake this as mean spirited or truly trying to mess with people. Those two detours led me to some of the most beautiful and moving places I have ever seen and the whiskey was meant to go with the cranberry juice my better half asked for so she wouldn't commit the sin of mixing it with the 14 year old special reserve. But it was that sort of helpfulness that said, "Oh your looking for an authentic experience? I'll give you one you'll never forget!"

Finally, and most importantly, you really do get potatoes with every meal. In the nicer places, you will get them served four different ways with dinner. This is not hyperbole. At a restaurant in Killarney, I literally had parsley potatoes and quartered fried potatoes on my plate, a side dish served family style of mashed potatoes and then the waitress made her rounds offering every table french fries, of which I of course excepted.

If you've never been, go. Go now. Or at least start planning it. Newgrange will change your life. The cliffs of Moher and the Skellig islands will leave you in utter awe. Dublin is a fascinating international city that is growing more metropolitan by the day. The architecture, from the thatch roofed cottage to the gothic spires of their cathedrals, is breath taking. Pictures and stories will never do it justice. You have to see it for yourself.

envy

My sister gets an awesome video, and all I have is this stupid blog.

Loretta Allen

Riots, Racism and Revolution!

After my first post, I received some friendly advice that I should spice things up a bit. More accurately, I should use smaller words and add explosions. Well here you go, my friends, the exciting and dangerous side of Levittown!!

Actual Levittown house on fire. I hope you're all happy!

William Levitt only allowed white people to buy into Levittown! Scandalous! When the first black family moved here in 1954, there were protests on their front lawn. There is even a rumor that a cross was burned. I have heard since that is legend, not fact. Small scale riots erupted on the street.

That's the title because people literally threw stick and stones.

In 1979, five points was ablaze with the frustration of locals as they rioted to demonstrate their disapproval of unconscionably high gas prices! Rage!! Tear this mother down!!!!

It was hard to find parking at the Golden Dawn Diner that day.

Finally, as some of you might not know, Levittown is not a real place. Its existence has been forcibly kept down by the fascist Trotskyites of the four townships! There was a movement to incorporate Levittown in 1954. The movement lasted about three years, once people figured out that there would be no industrial tax base and the gigantic headache of realigning the school districts, they gave up the dream. At least that's what the historians would have you believe! Ever the jingoist, I propose an alternate history, that Levittown was victim to the collusion and subterfuge of Falls, Middletown, Bristol and Tullytown townships. They knew that Levittown would be an unstoppable force if ever allowed to come into existence. Some even theorize that Levittown, PA would have kept incorporating other townships, eventually merging with Willingborough, NJ and Levittown, NY forming a Mega-Levittropolis! Vive la revolution!! I know fascist Trostkyite is an oxymoron!

I have no idea who this guy is, but I heard he grew up in Fairless Hills