Synthetic vs Organic

The concept came to me while reading a book in Barnes and Noble today. It's kinda my new thing. Whenever I have a break, I find a book store, and I read a book, till I have to go to my next job. Books are my friends here.

I digress, so as I was reading, I was relating to the character of the story, and was noticing how my experiences matched his, or how they matched my friends, and then I also noticed how, he learned from others experience, and I thought about how I learn from other peoples experiences.

I've come to realize that there are two different variations of experience. They are, (of course) 1st hand experience and 2nd hand experience. I find these two terms to be very limiting, and very non-descriptive. I would prefer to use the terms, Organic (1st hand) and Synthetic (2nd hand) experience in life.

I suppose we need to understand the different concepts of what Organic and synthetic is. If you were took look up the terms for Organic and Synthetic, you may find a definition similar to these:
Organic - noting or pertaining to a class of chemical compounds that formerly comprised only those existing in or derived from plants or animals, but that now includes all other compounds of carbon.
Synthetic - noting or pertaining to compounds formed through a chemical process by human agency, as opposed to those of natural origin

We can see by there very definitions, the hints of how this may compare to human experience.

Organic experiences in our life, are experiences that we create for ourselves. A good example of this, is the concept of fire that every child must find when he is young. When a child grows, he is told by his guardians, "Do not touch the fire it's hot." The child must learn from personal(organic) experience that the fire is in fact hot, and hot enough that it will cause him pain. These Organic experience are felt all throughout life.

There are also Synthetic experiences we learn in life, that are very important. Synthetic experience are experiences we learn through the experience of others. For example, a human may avoid, substance abuse, because their friend or family member may have been addicted to a substance. They learn without ever experiencing personally the affects of this substance abuse, because they see what it has done to a loved one. They have learned to avoid the situation.

Organic and Synthetic products have become very important in our lives as we know it. They are in the clothes we wear, the food we eat, and in the drugs we take. Though potentially debatable, both synthetic and organic products are important in life. Synthetic is of course much more easily produced, and there is a lot more opportunity for synthetic products. But we find more often than not, that organic products are of a higher value. I would hope to relate this as well to the experiences of human life.

Although synthetic experiences are important, and save us the hassle of learning "the hard way", organic experiences in life, sometimes must be achieved. The concept of love and friendship and faith, are a few examples of experience, that can only be stood fully, in an organic atmosphere. It is true, that a person can learn love synthetically (or 2nd hand). But the experience is never truly like the real thing.

At the same time, synthetic experiences being what they are, are felt, seen, heard very often and can easily substitute for the 'real thing.' It takes less time, all too often, it takes less heartache, pain (be it physical or mental). We learn to extract through another's organic experience, the synthetic properties that will aid us in keeping ourselves warm, clean, and healthy.

I probably should take some time, and really write this into a stronger essay, with more scientific reasoning, but I'm mostly writing this on the fly, with the thoughts that are already on my head. What are your thoughts?

Books

A book is the ultimate psychadelic drug, and sometimes its affects will last a lifetime

Oh man, its so great to be in California. I feel rejuvenated. I'm sleeping enough. I can actually get out of bed and not dread the day ahead of me. I'm in beloved state, and in the area I've dreamed of living for more than a year for. I'm happy. I've got a steady pay check. I can actually remember my dreams now again. This is all very important to me. I'm not as depressed as I was. In sales, I just had too much time to myself to reflect on my life. Too much time to dwell. I know the saying is, "Idle hands are the devils tools" and its totally true, in a scattered sorta way. I was a devil to myself. It's good to have a job where I feel I finally have purpose, and that I'm doing something for somebody else. That's only how I ever feel motivated for anything I guess.

With all this positive energy that I am pushing forward, I am committed to eating healthier, and experiencing food like I used to when I was younger. I used to always cook when I was younger. I used to bake chocolate chip cookies that were famous. Ask Paloma Printy Dunlap. She'll tell ya. I used to cook Asian food like nobody's business. Now it's time a for a new chapter.

Now its time for dips. Well, at least for this week. I made home-made salsa Monday, and its gone now. It was great. Even without cilantro (I accidentally got parsley in my rush to leave). Right now in the oven I have a new dip. I made artichoke-jalapeno dip. Which I'm sure will be really really good. Someone last night made an artichoke dip, and it was actually pretty lame, and I thought to myself, You know what? I can make this better. So I did. And my new thing now is I'm gonna list my new recipe's I've found and list them here. I dunno who will actually follow my recipe's but who cares. I'll give my opinions about them.

I dunno if I would consider this a new chapter in my life, that's a tad extreme, but it's time for me to rediscover my love for cooking. It's been too long. I'm really good at it. Time to get back into the game, and time to eat healthy. No more eating out :)

My jalapeno dip :)


* 1 (14-ounces) can artichoke hearts (not marinated), drained
* 2 cloves minced garlic
* 2 Jalapeño pepper, diced fine (may use pickled Jalapeños)
* 2 tablespoons jalapeno juice
* ½ cup sour cream
* 8 ounces cream cheese
* ½ cup mayonnaise
* 1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese


Directions

1. Preheat your oven to 325º. Cut up artichoke hearts. Mix all ingredients and artichokes together with mixer. Pour mixture into baking dish. Bake uncovered until lightly browned on top (about 45 minutes to 1 hour). Serve with pita chips or tortilla chips



(update!!!!!)
Success! It wass soooo good, and suprisingly enough, could have used more jalapenos. I didn't want to burn my roommates mouths. So it was perfect for them!!!! YAY! Yep, I'll be savin this one fo sho.

(update!!!!! number 2!)
I was gone all day Sunday. I was in Sacramento. My roommates ate all of my dip, it was so good. Grrrrr...

I was honestly just shopping online

Current mood: Smiling.
Current Song: Sufjan Stevens - Jacksonville

I love to imagine you in the clothes I've created.
I'd take the time to examine your figure.
Take all the measurements and look in your eyes,
and see how the fabric would compliment your smile.
I'm no seamstress, and my textiles may take time,
but in the meantime could I buy you your favorite shoes?
Would you allow me to buy you that pretty yellow dress?
Cause you're looking at it, like... maybe you should marry it.
So then I thought maybe I could get you another and surprise you.
I know you didn't like that dress but you still wore it.
And we fell more in love when you even admitted it wasn't your style.
I loved you for that because I knew that you meant it.
You don't keep anything from me, and you see we're like stitches.
We're like two cups of tea; I'll be peppermint, You can be whatever you like.
You're like that summer dress that I finally finished.
A tad shear, and you coulda fixed it, but you just wink.
I wanna be the boy with the straw hat, to take ya to the races.
Wanna be my gal?
Let's dress up in our Sunday best everyday,
And skim the pond in a boat for two.
I wanna meet with friends and peers,
you meet with your gal's and talk about how we're such slobs
and how our guy Tommy bought Suzy that lil Record player to dance to.
But we both know, we dance better than they ever did.
It's gonna be a good life, ya know.
Because ya know, well... You just know.

Mitch McKnight and Family, photos.

I had to cry when I saw these pictures. I had to laugh when I saw these pictures. So many different emotions. It's so much fun to see these pictures. Each individual with there unique personality. Autumn, so many times a spit-image of her mother, Is playful and sweet, and always the princess. Sarah the independent, goof-ball who is her own favorite audience, and the wheels of design are always spinning in her little head. Of course my brother, in whom the girls look to for everything, and for good reason. He is dad. Michelle Kendall, said in her post on the pictures that it pulls at your heartstrings, and that's for sure. I haven't had the emotions of wanting to cry for many months since Traci passed. The pictures is beautiful, but the last picture in this series really sums up the life ahead of them. Father staying at the level of his children to raise them, and the what lies behind them cannot be seen, only the bright future on the horizon. :)

Love my family I do.

I have a project.
I will finish it in a few weeks.
It's a surprise.
Someone's getting a surprise.
Joy.
It's good to do these things.
I love creativity.
Creativity loves me.
Someone will enjoy my creativity.
It will be honest and humble.
It will be like a blanket.
It will be made of familiar materials.
It will be warm.
I hope it makes them smile.
It makes me smile.
I have help.
They may think I need help. Just kidding.
I live in the Bay Area.
Finally.
Grin.
Grin.
Grin.
Grin.
Indefinite.
Cryptic.
So sorry.
Bed time. :)

Hello bay area

I found this one too...

Good bye seattle. You were a sweet lover
But I must return to my dear mother
Hello california, yes, i've missed you
I know you've always done what you do
And smile a sunshine that forgives
The darkest of rainstorm that ever lived
A presence consuming, I express you
In no sphere consuming, can I repress you
Give you my heart for the fifth time
I may someday reject you,

I should be sleeping. But something drives me to stay awake. I'm not even sure what it is? I am in one of those creative moods, where if I had the ability, like a virus, I would enter into any vulnerable person and make them feel what I've created. My mind is alive with the curiosity of a neglected subconscious. I am listening to Norma Jean, I was listening to Nine Inch Nails. Tonight is me expelling excess mental effort. What does a locomotive do when it comes to a stop? I think it releases its steam ballast. I dunno if they even call them that. Do I look like an engineer?

I am releasing this steam.

I've posted three times tonight. Two of which were from my head. One which was presented to me today in church and felt like others should read as well.

I like to smile.

But lately I haven't done it much. But who would know any different in Seattle? Do they know that I smile a lot in california? My cheeks hurt after a while when I try to smile. That didn't used to happen? Did I leave my smile in california? Who has my smile? Do you have my smile?

Do we smile together often?

Toms, are a drug. The shoe. It's a drug. I brought them with me, and already, three people have hopped on the tom Train. See there it is. Train.

I wanna go on a train. I wanna look out the window and realize I'm on a one way track to a destination of bliss whatever. Call me sanguine.


I should sleep. I should sleep. I should sleep.

Meet me in my dreams please.

It's a good night

I'm on a roll


The world is at war because of clever magicians.
They've killed enough doves, in a crudely formed guise
There methods are shallow, and baptized in mischief
Yet we applaud there pony act
And throw them our roses
Each magicians a player
Trying to out smart the other
Use there tactics against them
And bedazzle there devotees
I'm a follower I admit it
I give praise to performance
But the tricks they're presenting leave me tired and restless
I sleep and I wonder
'what part was the prestige?'
What part was the sacrifice
and what did we loose?
What gain was the audience?
Did we smile at the end?
Whatever it was, it all seemed pretend

The Race

By Dr. D.H. "Dee" Groberg

Whenever I start to hang my head in front of failure’s face,
my downward fall is broken by the memory of a race.
A children’s race, young boys, young men; how I remember well,
excitement sure, but also fear, it wasn’t hard to tell.
They all lined up so full of hope, each thought to win that race
or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place.
Their parents watched from off the side, each cheering for their son,
and each boy hoped to show his folks that he would be the one.

The whistle blew and off they flew, like chariots of fire,
to win, to be the hero there, was each young boy’s desire.
One boy in particular, whose dad was in the crowd,
was running in the lead and thought “My dad will be so proud.”
But as he speeded down the field and crossed a shallow dip,
the little boy who thought he’d win, lost his step and slipped.
Trying hard to catch himself, his arms flew everyplace,
and midst the laughter of the crowd he fell flat on his face.
As he fell, his hope fell too; he couldn’t win it now.
Humiliated, he just wished to disappear somehow.

But as he fell his dad stood up and showed his anxious face,
which to the boy so clearly said, “Get up and win that race!”
He quickly rose, no damage done, behind a bit that’s all,
and ran with all his mind and might to make up for his fall.
So anxious to restore himself, to catch up and to win,
his mind went faster than his legs. He slipped and fell again.
He wished that he had quit before with only one disgrace.
“I’m hopeless as a runner now, I shouldn’t try to race.”

But through the laughing crowd he searched and found his father’s face
with a steady look that said again, “Get up and win that race!”
So he jumped up to try again, ten yards behind the last.
“If I’m to gain those yards,” he thought, “I’ve got to run real fast!”
Exceeding everything he had, he regained eight, then ten...
but trying hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again.
Defeat! He lay there silently. A tear dropped from his eye.
“There’s no sense running anymore! Three strikes I’m out! Why try?
I’ve lost, so what’s the use?” he thought. “I’ll live with my disgrace.”
But then he thought about his dad, who soon he’d have to face.

“Get up,” an echo sounded low, “you haven’t lost at all,
for all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
Get up!” the echo urged him on, “Get up and take your place!
You were not meant for failure here! Get up and win that race!”
So, up he rose to run once more, refusing to forfeit,
and he resolved that win or lose, at least he wouldn’t quit.
So far behind the others now, the most he’d ever been,
still he gave it all he had and ran like he could win.
Three times he’d fallen stumbling, three times he rose again.
Too far behind to hope to win, he still ran to the end.

They cheered another boy who crossed the line and won first place,
head high and proud and happy -- no falling, no disgrace.
But, when the fallen youngster crossed the line, in last place,
the crowd gave him a greater cheer for finishing the race.
And even though he came in last with head bowed low, unproud,
you would have thought he’d won the race, to listen to the crowd.
And to his dad he sadly said, “I didn’t do so well.”
“To me, you won,” his father said. “You rose each time you fell.”

And now when things seem dark and bleak and difficult to face,
the memory of that little boy helps me in my own race.
For all of life is like that race, with ups and downs and all.
And all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
And when depression and despair shout loudly in my face,
another voice within me says, “Get up and win that race!”

House of Emotion

This is not a house of glass. This is not a house of stone. This perfect frame is translucent, and this translucent house is subject to natural cause. It feels warmer in the sun, and colder in the clouds, and although the subjects inside are safe, they are all on display.

You can throw your stones. No worries. It chips, and repairs, and fades.

The house was built for honest purposes, and all materials used were to allow you to see what a family is. So when the door is shut, still, inside all can be seen. The subjects know they are watched, and they usually don’t mind.
But when they try to tell you that everything is the way it should be, you know better, because you’ve got a very public view of what is really going inside of the house.

It’s just a cage really, these are my pet emotions.

Each emotion enjoys there respective seasons, and in this house the translucent frame shows all. Friends, family, and passersby stop to see the commotion. Some may even seemed concerned, but who is to tell a family how to function?

Maybe the family of another house of emotions may come by, and the emotions will intermingle and share memories. The holidays are always a great time, ya know.
It’s funny how each house is built differently. Is there any perfect design? Some are made like fortresses and others are thin and may fall like the leaves of a season.

It would seem that certain designs would be proper with there surroundings. A home surrounded by evil may stay boarded up quite often. A home peaceful in the hills nestled by nature would keep opened up to enjoy the views of the earth. Sure there are those houses who don’t fit with there surroundings, but what do we know? The family knew best right?? Right?

But I wouldn’t build a mansion in the slums, I wouldn’t build a shack in the west hills. But the phrase, “To each, his own” seems proper.

You're gonna have to excuse my posts for the next two months while in seattle. I don't have the internet for my computer, so I just use my trusty palm pre. It's nice, and works well, but I can't type half as fast I can my keyboard, and also I can't really read my blogs as I write tem because the screen is too small.

Todays blog is short and simple. In washington, I don't have any real true friends. Friends yes, true friends no. I don't even really have a best friend who I confide in everything. So I'm trying to make best friends with work. It's a little tough.