justice and law

Justice is the supposed moral and impartial treatment of all peoples and the desire by all to do what is deemed to be “right” by society. It is the concept that our laws are based upon, but can true justice come from the law? The law is an all-encompassing assumption about a specific circumstance and the actions to be carried out thereafter. It is a guideline that does not take into account the specifics of a particular case. It is defined by Webster’s as “a binding custom or practice of a community; a rule of conduct or action prescribed or formally recognized as binding or enforced by a controlling authority.” Law clearly states the way things are to be handled and how punishment goes once the line of the law is crossed. It is a fabrication of the human mind whereas justice stems from the soul. Justice deals with the morality of a person and how their actions warrant a specific consequence. It is based on exact circumstances and it is need based, not prescribed like law. Stemming from morality, justice thus stems from the determining factor of morality, religion. A person’s moral fabric is determined, often times, by the teachings of religion, creating somebody who will hopefully be able to distinguish between right and wrong. The morality of Christians is determined by the Ten Commandments, which inevitably are the basis for all law in this country. This fact inexplicably links justice and law within our society, but not necessarily in another. At the end of the movie version of Billy Budd, a quote was uttered by the narrator to the effect of, “Justice will live as long as the human soul, the law as long as the human mind.” Justice, being determined by a person’s morality, is then based upon the societal factors that determine that fact. Law is based on the human desire to protect itself from being wronged and to punish those who do wrong us.

why are there people like this?

Brian Hillman. Most do not know him, few will ever. He is completely obsessed with the Ivy League, to the point where it causes him constant anxiety and unnecessary stress. When asked what he wants out of life, Brian wrote this little piece that he refuses to post on his blog, http://brosiusblog.blogspot.com. It sickens and saddens me at the same time.

The only thing I want out of life is fulfillment; nothing else matters. To be more specific, I want to be a professor of philosophy at an elite university, an astrophysicist who has contributed notably to the study of the cosmos, or a mathematician, who works at an elite university as a professor or otherwise. I also need to be respected, and to be able to publish some of my writings. However, to get there, I must go to an elite university (by elite I am referring to a group of 10 at most), and if I cannot get there, I cannot accomplish any of my goals, and if that scenario plays out, I ought not to exist. I hope to be on this earth just long enough to accomplish these goals. Fun, enjoyment and happiness are illusions that prevent people from being productive and shield them from the fact that their lives are pointless. I would say that only a few people in society are worthwhile, but the other people need to exist for there to be humans. This is a somewhat Nietzschian ideal of the Übermensch, but it is true that most people do not lead fulfilling lives, and the few, Stephen Hawking, Kurt Vonnegut, Andrew Wiles, and President Bush are among the elite who live important lives. The rest of us are just hear to populate the earth, and starve it of its resources that make our existence possible. I would do anything to be of this important class, but I feel that my anxiety is preventing me from achieving this status. While you may hate me for saying this, my intelect is sufficient to be among the likes of the productive, or at least I believe so, and no I am not comparing to President Bush, he is not a bad president but his intelect is far from remarkible. In summation, I obsess over being a productive member of society, and if I do not get into an Oxford or Harvard (Princeton, Yale, etc.), I have absolutely no chance at achieving anything, and therefore I am an unneccesary burden on society, and my existence is out of an intrisic human selfishness to desire to life.

civil revolution

Now is the time where I am going to get really deep and discuss something that nobody else will care about or even feel like reading, but nonetheless, I will write. This post is going to examine society's standards and the gap of those standards that exists across the generations. Now this may sound like an in depth analysis is going to come here after, but in actuality this is just a post about my hair. Yeah, I know. If you do not want to read this stop now, but otherwise this is going to be quite the post.
For the past few years of my life, I have attempted to grow out my hair to a length that is, what I feel, the most desirable length. As this process was going on, I was continually accosted by my parents who seem to have a narrow scope of what is acceptable in today's society. For some reason, they continued to threaten me with various punishments until I would inevitably break down and cut my hair, resulting in a resounding disappointment for all those fond of my flowing locks. Also, for my job umpiring little league baseball, I was forced to keep my hair in the mid to short length area. Now it is the winter and baseball is over so I decided that I would continue the growth until I was inevitably forced, by lack of money, to cut my hair for umpiring. It had been going well, the length increasing at a substantial rate and not looking like complete poppycock in the process. I was receiving numerous compliments about the situation on top of my head and the desire to keep growing my hair was stronger than ever. I enjoyed the length and soon began to realize that I just do not like myself with a short haircut. All that aside, I began to notice the increased resentment that I was receiving from my parents, especially my father. First came the snide remarks, which, after years of living with him, I have grown quite accustomed to hearing. Then came the pleading from my mother who believes that I have low self-esteem because my hair is long and that if I were to cut it I would immediately have a girlfriend. This, being one of the most ridiculous things that I have ever heard, left me with a loss of words. Finally, I was given an ultimatum. Either I cut my hair or I would be grounded until I did. Justly, I took the side of the opposition and am currently forbidden to venture from the house to see my friends. Now that the story has been told, I will begin to examine the reasons and rationale behind this whole thing.
My parents come from a different time period, one filled with the hippie generation and everything that went along with it. As you might have guessed, my parents were not a part of that group of people. Most likely, they grew up despising the hippie and all attributed to them, like long hair. This inherent disgust may be what is pushing them to accost me on a daily basis to cut my hair. What they do not realize though, is that in this day and age, long hair is perfectly acceptable and those with it are even praised for their individuality. Having long hair is not something that is looked down upon today, but rather is becoming more mainstream. If you were to watch television today, there would be numerous instances of people who have longer hair than previously acceptable in society. The majority of college students today do not have the cookie cutter image of the business professional. They realize that they are still young and have plenty of time to cut their hair and join the mindless ranks of the working class. For now, I wish to stay a kid and not grow up faster than I have to. There is plenty of time for me to have a short haircut, but not at this time. Now I am going to be me, regardless of the consequences that entails. "Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable." -John F. Kennedy

reflection of the ages

For some reason, Canalori loved this poem. It was a reflection on some documentary that we watched on 9/11 by two French guys. How do I know that she liked this? Well, she gave me a 50/50 and wrote "Nice" in pretty large letters. So, for your viewing/reading pleasure, here it is.

As the memories began to fade,
To watch a documentary I was made,
With images shown that were so profound,
They had enough power to shake the ground.
This film had me caught in a surge of emotion
About a people that came from across the ocean.

All things resurfaced that I was once made to feel,
With these thoughts it was time for me to deal.
Misconceptions and ignorance abound,
My revelation was quite profound.
It was not a whole people or even few,
This was a group of extremists with their visions askew.

In me were awakened nightmares few years amassed,
Forcing me to shake the dead hand of the past.
Images were thrust upon the television screen
I became a zombie, my gazed fixed upon the machine.
Questions long since dead were raised anew,
Question that I alone would be forced to work through.

New York, New York, from this you will only be stronger,
Your pain and anguish will haunt you no longer.
The jewel of the west, you have been slightly tarnished,
Your sorrow left out in the open, unvarnished.
Lift your spirits on high, rejoice in what is left behind,
Let cries of freedom and liberty soar, unconfined.

one a.m. reflection

As I sit here reflecting upon the night's events, I come to wonder about the breakdown of the moral fiber of just about every person that I know. What is it that causes such a compete change in character in so many of these good people? These were my friends, people who I have grown up with. Why the sudden urge to throw caution to the wind and disregard everything that once used to be a part of life? These questions came up tonight as I sat in a living room, listening to my mood being played upon the piano beside me. I once used to have friends who wanted to be around me because they enjoyed my company. I still do, but that number is ever dwindling, decreasing as the days of high school pressures and stereotypes are played out before me. I am being slowly disregarded by many of the people who I once thought to be my closest and dearest friends. I am being replaced by an edgier group, one who has no morale fiber left intact. "Why has this change occurred?" one might ask. The answer is I really do not know. The only plausible solution that I have found thus far is my extreme aversion to drinking and smoking. I realized in the past that these are things that I do not wish to do, and now is not the time to change that. Obviously, this is not the case for a select group of people who see it fit to partake in these various acts of debauchery and youthen desire. If this is a path you so choose, so be it. I am not the one to judge, but I will have a healthy liver. To completely desert a person who you once held dear for a reason like that, though, is at its very core a selfish and immature occurrence. A person at that level of maturity does not deserve my friendship. There are times though, that I wish that it was still the days of old. Carefree days, without the threat of alcohol to come between a tight-nit group of friends. Those were the best of times, long nights in front of the television, surrounded by the people who I cared for the most. Alas, those days have sadly come to a close. Now, I sit surrounded by the truest of people, the ones who have never left my side. For that I am truly grateful. For those others, I wish them the best, as they will almost assuredly need it in the days to come. The loss of a friend is a terrible thing, but not something that cannot be overcome. Aristotle once said that, "Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow ripening fruit." It seems, though, that this fruit has begun to rot.