Geek Factor=Happy Factor

Unlike Rider #1, I feel happiness comes from your geek factor. Perhaps the term geek factor is a little vague; let me clarify.

Tuesday night; I am sitting on the couch watching Dancing with the Stars as a favor to my wife. She hates watching it alone. As a good husband, I watch it with her; however, cognitively, I am in another world. “Artimis Fowl: He met Opal in the past--so why didn’t she recognize him? I know he has another book coming out, perhaps he explains it there. Anime is so much better than this. I am so glad Castle airs after this show. My wife looks so cute when she enjoys her shows. I wonder if she will like it when I get my Mythbuntu system set up so that she can record whatever she wants, or pause live TV to take care of the kids during the day. I bet I can even pipe it out to the garage; all it would take is drilling one hole-----WHAT!!!!!!! Did the host on Dancing with the Stars just tell that guy his wig looked like a TRIBBLE?!!?!?!?” That last comment drew a concerned look from my wife, which confused me until I realized I had said it out loud.

Asking her if she had heard what I said just caused more consternation. I thought she hadn’t heard me through my peals of laughter, but when I asked again after my fit of hysteria subsided I received the same response. She had NO idea what I was talking about and insisted I explain it on the next commercial break.

I reveled in the jumble of wonderful, useless, made-up facts that the word brought up in my mind. From Dr. McCoy: their purpose in life is to eat and give birth; they do both extremely well. Born pregnant. Ate all the grain. I postulated yet again how a creature of that design would affect a stoic biosphere such as a spaceship. I remembered that this creature made such a lasting impact that the new Star Trek movie released in the year 2009 featured a Tribble. I giggled to myself, still geeking out about it, drawing a “Shhhhh” from my wife.

The original Star Trek series epitomizes geekdom; it was the rise of the geek, and here it is being used as a reference on a show teeming with pop culture, the latest fashion, as well as a fan base that is mostly females which were born decades after this creature was introduced to the world by Gene Rodenberry. When I tried to explain this to my wife, she didn’t get it. I watched her expectantly, trying to contain my own bursts of mirth--all I got was “and...?” Realizing that I was one of about 100 people watching the show that got it just added to my revelry.

Tribbles are just one example out of many. Your amount of happiness you derive from such experiences, and how many you can have, depends on your geek factor. The geekier you are the more you see. The geekier you are the more humorous connections you make. Thus, happiness comes from being truly geeky and flaunting it, even in the unlikeliest places.

Hum your favorite hymn

I love Oreo's. I love Bacon. I love cars. These things make me normal. What may not be normal is my love of the failure of others. The other day I watched someone kill over 700 simulated people causing him to fail a test that is 50% of the grade for the entire course... *smile*. I witnessed a girl lose it during that same performance evaluation running from the radar lab and futilely attempting to stem the uncontrollable sobs of hysterical howling misery... *happiness*. This supports my anomalous factor... or does it?

This is an interesting psychological phenomenon. It does however provide convincing evidence of the truthfulness of my theory of life: Happiness is a desirable commodity, and like any other commodity you must gain it by appropriating it from one who possesses it already. Of course there are also ways of concocting happiness. This is done by adhering to happiness protocols found in happy places such as Church, Electronics stores, and carnivals. Another manafestation of these principles is the well known fact that insecure/unhappy people make fun of others; they do it in order to procure happiness that is not originally theirs. While this strategy is sometimes frowned upon by others "quicker, easier... more seductive it is." -Yoda

I would have to say that lately my ratio of production vs. pillage is about 50/50. I was finally able to get my truck running again by replacing the starter- 1 point light side. A crying girl made me smile- 2 points dark side. I have been putting increased effort into the successful magnification of my calling- 2 points light side. I watched this video 10 times and laughed hysterically each and every time (http://www.snotr.com/video/3157) - 1 point dark side. I ate bacon, I ridiculed a small boy... I'm sure you get the point (no pun intended), the battle is constant. Which is better? Light or Dark? This war is fought every day on multiple fronts, the hum of lightsabe... uh... the hum of happy children echoes over the battlefield. But what makes the happy humans hum?
Honestly, I don't care. I just like being happy whether I made it or stole it... it's mine now!

What does it mean to be American.

I sit next to Jon Eldredge in my #2 class, by #2 I mean my 2nd most boring class. This can be proven by examining the in-class activities of various class members during class. For example: Firstly I am in class now...
Second, As I glance to my left... Yup I see the familiar variety of firearms displayed on the Laptop of Jon Eldredge. Today it is the Taurus 1911, she is a beauty, the epitome of everything America stands for. What DOES America stand for you may ask? What an astute question. First of all any TRUE American wouldn't have to even ask. Just examine your Yankee self: when you see someone with a faster car than you what do you want? That is what it means to be American. When you watch a Rambo blow away the last bad guy and get the girl too what do YOU want to do? That is all-American baby! When the 2nd Grader sitting next to you named Alexandra has bigger scissors than you and loves rubbing it in what do you want to do? Although in some cases it may result in getting suspended from school for bringing scissors so large they are considered lethal weapons to school, it is what we are all about here in The U-S of A! Doing it bigger, better, and faster than the other guy. This requires bigger, better, and badder toys.
And that's not all, this only leads into what America is all about. A few nights ago family was locked into battle. A "Bloodbath" if you will. A free-for-all, Zerg vs. Protoss vs. Terran. I couldn't help myself. Whenever I had the opportunity to obliterate enemy forces I just had to jump in there. It wasn't until after someone quit in frustration that I realized... maybe I should have held back. I would like to think that had I thought of this earlier I would have allowed a few notable victories for my beleaguered oponents, but thoughts like those are likened to cheesy products like the sham-WOW, everyone knows they exist, but no-one really cares. The point is this: America likes winning. What do we like winning? I don't understand the question.
Every "American" activity that we enjoy boils down to winning. We like baseball? NO! We like WINNING in Baseball! Why do you think soccer has never become popular in America? Sledding? Last time I went sledding it almost broke my coxyx- 19' 6" baby! I tied the jump record! Next time you find yourself enjoying an activity stop and think, is this because I'm winning? or for another reason. I don't know what that reason would be, but I'm going on the assumption that there are people out there who enjoy other things- I really have no idea what. As for me, I'm all-American baby!

I love having the best toys! I live winning! I LOVE AMERICA!!!

What'd I do?

Men are simple creatures. We know that female is the opposite of male, and we see the evidence of that every day in almost all facets of our lives. It's sad, really, how well women understand us and how little we know about them... It's obvious that women understand men a lot better than we understand them. I mean, have you ever heard of a guy getting up and stomping off with the girl sitting on the couch yelling after him, "What'd I do?" Yeah, I didn't think so.

As much as I'd like to say that I wish women came with a manual on how to understand them, we all know that men never read manuals. They just keep plugging stuff in until something works. This is how we view life in general. If you tell a guy they can't do something, you're guaranteed that they will stop at nothing to prove you wrong(this doesn't apply to cleaning, leaving the toilet seat down, or any other useful activities).

Even though women understand us, they like to pretend that we're a lot more complicated than we really are. For instance they like to ask us, "what are you thinking about?" For those of you who really don't know what men think about, there is only a short list to choose from: 1. we're thinking about food. We're always hungry, and even when we're not, that doesn't mean we don't want to eat. Just remember, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach... 2. violence. you see it all the time: sports, video games, friendly neighborhood killer wrestling deathmatches... Keep your flowers and scrapbooking, if you want to make a guy happy get him something violent. 3. Sex. If you didn't see that one coming, you're a... well, you should have seen it coming.

Now, there is a 4th option that never really gets mentioned. And I would argue that this is what guys think about at least 90% of the time: NOTHING. We're not thinking about anything! We're too lazy to spend all that time and energy thinking about stuff. I'm pretty sure you can't argue this one girls, and even if you could, why would you?

Which brings me back to my original point. Us guys don't even know what's up until the girl stomps off yelling at us, which finally kicks our brains in gear as we scramble to figure out what our hainus offence really was.

Guys don't get offended. And even if they do, after a few harsh words(or blows) things are back to normal. It's hard for guys to remember that they have to treat (and talk to) women vastly different than normal people(ie guys).

So in conclusion, let me appologize in advance for the whole male race, we don't know what we did, but I'm sure you can think of something. Women: don't be offended by anything that comes out of our mouth(or any other orifice), we didn't mean to offend you.

It's hard to be lazy!

Unlike the White lancer, I do not suffer from multiple personalities. Of course, maybe I would get more done if I had 2 other alter egos to share my work load... I, unfortunately, only have 'Busy Stephen'. There might have been more at some time, but 'Busy Stephen' most likely ate them while they were still in the womb.

Although I label myself a lazy person, 'Busy Stephen' tends to fill all my available time with various activities of differing enjoyment. For example: to be a full time student, one must take a minimum of 12 credits. For reasons unknown even to me, 'Busy Stephen' has decided to rise above the mediocrity of the masses, and shoot for a unfathomable 19 credits! Why you may ask?
("I wouldn't ask that.") that's good, cuz I don't know.

As busy as a person would be taking 19 credits, 'Busy Stephen' could never stop there. there is still unscheduled time that, of course, must be filled up with something. Enter Job #1. I work approximately 30 hours a week in the Machines Room. This is a kind of store room for teachers here on campus; I keep it running. I stock shelves, I help people with the behemoth we call a copier(approx. 7' long, with enough options to make a slide rule look like an abacus), and anything else my kind, lovely, generous and overwhelmingly gracious boss tells me to do.
Enter Job #2. Again, 'Busy Stephen' can still see several moments of my week that are not yet full, so a second job is procured: teaching gymnastics. In this job, I calmly and patiently try to teach a whole class of hyperactive children how to be rambunctious in a safe manner... I teach them how to scare their moms by flipping through the air and jumping off a variety of objects. Now, that's not technically what I teach them, but it should help you understand what the end result is.

I know that this sounds like a lot, but believe it or not, 'Busy Stephen's' only desire is to fill every minute of my schedule, so what did he do you may ask?("I wouldn't ask that.") He found several other activities to occupy my time, like: buying an '86 VW Jetta to work on, helping my friends log on the weekends, volunteering my extremely masculine self to help with a local ballet troupe, and going swing dancing every week. you know how it is... any ways, in the midst of all this, I find time to do my daily homework and study for upcoming tests(wink wink).

After all this, you would think that 'Busy Stephen' would lay off for a while, you know, figure a job well done now that there are no more things he could possibly cram into my schedule... But as all Martens know: a job worth doing, is worth doing well. So... He manages to shoe horn in a few more things, like starting up a barbershop quartet, and getting me nominated for the president of a club here on campus, and getting put in charge of the Winter Formal dance.

I really am a lazy person, but 'Busy Stephen' just never lets up! As a fellow conspirator once told me: "I never have any time when I'm with you!" It's true. 'Busy Stephen' never sleeps, and he never lets up, no matter where I am. I've learned to get a sick kind of enjoyment from my hazardous schedule, but concluded that one day, 'Busy Stephen' will end my ninja-like existence with the ever increasing ferocity of his planning. But knowing that while I am young and can still take it, I say "bring it!" I'm not old yet...

You've got better things to do?

Most assuredly there are people who have better things to do- My writing here however, is evidence that I am not numbered among those blessed/unfortunate souls. The best thing that I have to do right now just happens to be the thing I least want to do in life... Homework.

I remember fondly the buddings of each new semester- where a "new" Caleb optimistically registers for a plethora of classes that will push him to excellence. This Beginning of the Semester Caleb very readily commits all of Middle of the Semester Caleb's time and whenever Middle of the Semester Caleb slacks off- he assures himself that End of the Semester Caleb is all powerful and can accomplish any task no matter how little time he has allotted. After all End of the Semester Caleb IS all powerful- and can turn any grade into a passing one... What a stud!

I guess there is evidence of these three personalities in all of my relationships too. Except the stud among the relationship Caleb's is found in the Beginning of the Relationship Caleb. It remains an inexplicable miracle that despite the scanty resources to draw from, Beginning of the Relationship Caleb manages to capture the interest and steal the hearts of many an unwitting maiden. Middle of the Relationship Caleb simply has to have fun to draw them further in, until inevitably End of the Relationship Caleb AKA "Bruiser" swoops down. Bruiser lives off the hearts of these poor innocent beauties (similar to how I live off of bacon) by simply informing them that Beginning and Middle of Relationship Caleb didn't mean that they wanted a serious relationship- or maybe they did, but End of the Relationship Caleb convinced them otherwise (he can be very persuasive). Only one has ever seemed to satisfy End of Relationship Caleb, one who craftily sidestepped this Bruiser by cutting it off scarcely after Beginning of Relationship Caleb. This mysterious and wondrous maiden will remain cloaked in secrecy as the only one who has bested the beastly End of Relationship Caleb... *sigh*... someday...

I've got better things to do...

It always amazes me how people rationalize things in their lives. Please, as you read this post, do not assume that I am leaving myself out of this ginormous generalization. On the contrary, I am the entire inspiration for this little blurb on excuses.
Take for example, homework: As this blog is being created, an english paper is figuratively collecting dust in my "My Documents" folder on my desktop... I don't really have anything else to do, but instead of finishing it up like I should, I'm blogging and writing people on Instant Messenger. I could have written it earlier today, but I was too busy watching the latest episode of "Heroes"(which is so good, yet so incredibly frustrating!), and distracting myself with a rather good looking girl(which is so good, yet so incredibly frustrating!). I could have written it yesterday, but instead I decided to make a late night run to McDonalds to load up on the artery-clogging-goodness found there. I could have written it over thanksgiving weekend while I was sitting in my dorm for 4 days straight, but instead I played computer games, slept, and just sat around getting fat.
As you can see, I can take the most innocent of activities and twist them to my advantage. I can make the most unassuming boredom seem like a desperate necesity that cannot wait another 5 minutes! It's a talent really. I of course share this talent with many other people; most of which I would venture to say are guys. This phenomenon knows no bounds, its influence reaches far beyond the realms of mere schoolwork, and is found in nearly every facet of my life.
I go so far, that I rationalize my rationalization, saying: "I work better under pressure"(which may or may not be true).
Other things we rationalize can include excuses like: "I was just having fun..." "I didn't want to date her anyways..." "I've still got a couple more hours..." "I can always change tomorrow..." and my personal favorite: "It wasn't me, it was the testosterone!" There are many other excuses that we use, the list is really endless, and we each have our own favorites.
Which brings me to my final point: Most things we rationalize don't matter much. I already know that my english paper will spend another 3 glorious days relaxing in my"My Documents" folder; But come thursday night/friday morning, it will emerge from its homework cocoon as a beautiful majestic and miraculous work of art.
Other things in our life have a bigger effect than pleasing our pathetic excuse for an english teacher. I will not expound on this, for every one has their own el guapo, for some it may be sticking with something out of confusion or lack of options, for others it might be an irrational concern for one's safety, for others it could be an intolerable fury when things get frustrating. For me: I just happen to be the real el guapo...