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  • Bes Z on The Reasoner

    Hello. Bes Z here, from California. You are on my creation, The Reasoner: a place where any pursuit of reason and logic can be valued. Have questions? I may have the answer! Simply ask, and if worst comes to worst, we can both ponder about the questions and answers together. Feel free to read more about me if you wish. Thanks.
  • Live - What Bes Z is upto on Twitter

    • Do you have either a FedEx or a UPS account? Which one would you recommend, and why? Thanks! :) [looking to ship lots of stuff] 13 hrs ago
    • Why are you required to make appointments for a specialist at the hospital when you have to wait 40+ minutes for coming on time? 1 day ago
    • http://ping.fm/p/tjlic - Wendy's will now offer tomatoes only upon request, if they have them. Veggie haters rejoice. What do you think? 2 days ago
    • The best way to end a fight is to ... [fill in the blanks please]. :) 3 days ago
    • Hanging out with Diane. Haven't seen her in a while. Anyone you want to meet after a while? 3 days ago
    • More updates...


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Archive for the ‘Life’

The Swine Flu Love Memories10.13.09

Looney Tunes Swine Flu - Porky The PigToday I can say with full confidence that in addition to living the hardest and most complexly simple and complex life within myself, I am also living the hardest and most complex life externally. The Swine Flu. What a beautiful name to a mysterious thing. The Mexican Flu. The H4561 flu. Whatever it is called, it is the final sign that anyone alive today, 2009, faces the biggest epidemic risk from a natural disease that we have seen so far in our life in the media, and on a massive scale. No longer do we have to listen to stories that start with “Back in the day, we had people left and right getting sick” in order to start realizing the meaning of everything. It is happening today, here, right now. One day you may be telling friends, family and strangers about the Swine Flu “back in the day.

This article, including the above part, was written on April 30th, 2009, around 1am. It was lost in the catacombs of The Reasoner trenches that are wanting to see the light of the day until today, when Katie noticed it on my computer and told me to go ahead and post it. So here it is, unedited in its writing.

Posted in Lifewith 17 Comments →

Should Employers and Interviewers Check Your MySpace, Facebook, Twitter, And Other Social Profiles?08.25.09

Spying on Myspace users? (by Lorri37)Today and tonight, millions of people across the world will be getting ready for a job interview tomorrow. You yourself may be thinking of your next job, or thinking of your performance at your existing place of work. At the same time, you may probably be wondering as to how a future interviewer, employer, or an existing employer may view your job integrity based on how you act outside of work. In today’s world, where the online activities seems to be slowly getting more attention than life itself in several circles, many people say that it is important for you to realize how your online activities can hurt your existing or future job opportunities. I want to ask you if you think employers and interviewers should pay any attention to your online social profiles which reside outside of your work.

Today I ask a very important question that applies directly to you: Should employers and interviewers look at your MySpace, Facebook, Flickr and other social online profiles in order to judge your work and related performance and integrity?

Poll for you and your future and existing job:

»   Should employers check your Facebook, MySpace, Twitter and other social networking accounts when evaluating your working abilities?

View Results

Posted in Life, Onlinewith 19 Comments →

If you die, what will happen to your online accounts?08.12.09

Dead duckieIf you disappear from the public view in the offline world, people may notice. Those that want to know where you are, or how you are, may call you or visit your home in person. In the online world, however, unless you have listed your offline contact information, the only way to contact you is through the online world.

What would happen if you died, and the online people had no other information about your existence other than your online accounts? If you died, would anyone online know that you simply stopped breathing, or would people assume that you simply decided to spend more time offline? What will happen to your online accounts after your death?

Noticing your offline disappearance online

Dying in the offline world can instantly mean that you would not be logging into any of your online accounts, unless your computer is already logged in and someone else starts using your computer. If it is your tendency, and habit, to be offline for many days, people online may not notice your absence until it has been a bit longer than usual amount of time, like weeks or months.

Posted in Life, Onlinewith 20 Comments →

Series – The concept of “Normal” – What is it?07.23.09

This entry is part 1 of 0 in the series The concept of "Normal" - A Series

Recently, while pondering over the idea of what the society dictates for others to follow, Marie Lianne and myself were discussing the idea of what “normal” means in the society. The concept of normal applies to most of the things in our daily lives, even when we do not use that word. If people consider something to be acceptable by the majority, it seems like a normal thing to do, or a normal phenomenon. If there is anything that many people would consider irregular, or not a naturally recurring phenomenon that can be accepted easily, people consider it to be something far from normal.

Guy riding a very small tricycle - is this normal? - Picture by Marie Lianne for the "The concept of "normal"" SeriesLook at the picture in this paragraph for a very gentle example. Would you consider what the guy in the picture is doing a “normal” thing that guys his age and size do? I do, because I would want to do that and more myself. How about you? What do you consider normal about this picture? What do you consider abnormal about this picture?

This is the first in a series of articles revolving around the concept of normality, and what “normal” is considered to be. Today, this article will briefly focus on thoughts that revolve around the meaning of the word “Normal.”

Does the word “normal” have an acceptable, normal meaning?

Posted in Lifewith 13 Comments →

Thought: I want to commit online suicide07.16.09

“Observing looking away…”I have had this idea for a while now. And I have tried it more than once on MySpace and Facebook. In our offline life, many times people feel the need to simply end their life for specific reasons, and many other times, other people feel the need to end their lives for various reasons. I want to do the same online. I have an online presence that is increasing on an almost gradual basis in different forms and areas. That has caused me to think of a thought more than ever before. I am thinking of committing online suicide.

Posted in Lifewith 13 Comments →

Blank page, blinking cursor06.04.09

by emily d stine of http://emmyappleseed.tumblr.com

Blank page, blinking cursor. I’m spread out like gravy on my desk chair waiting for the inspiration to come so I can trap it and morph it into words, paragraphs, pages. I am a poet turned fiction writer, a chapter virgin, a dialogue novice. I need some air.
 

The walk to Starbucks is brisk for an June night. I clutch my jacket around my shivering shoulders and trudge through the street anxious for the impending caffeine. I walk by the long rows of houses dark except for that spidery glow emanating from the curtained windows of family rooms. Its TV, I’m sure of it. They stare blankly into the twenty inch moving picture box. If you stop thinking that it’s a normal thing and look at TV for what it is, it becomes a little strange. We don’t even interact with it, we stare, hell we even listen, but I sure can’t lick my TV to understand what ice cream tastes like. There just seems to be so much beyond it. I’ll read, I’ll write, I’ll talk but to stare and let my brain go soft from lack of exercise is a waste. My brain is happiest with steady stimulation.

I continue to trek up the darkened street pausing for a moment to reflect in the soft warmth of a somber streetlight. I really do live my life inside my head. Even my best friends don’t know all that is stored beneath the hair. How can you ever really know another person, because like me, so much of what they are is kept unarticulated? A middle aged couple walks past me as I’m working through this in my head crunching at my fingernails. They eye me how we all secretly stare at strangers when we’re bored or curious. I look back at them but only for an instant, keeping my mannerisms in check with our society. But what I really wish to do is take that couple home with me and piece by piece go through their brains. How wonderful it would be to get together with complete strangers and bleed all the thoughts confined nonverbally in my head and theirs and piece together a fluid story. But life and cerebral cortexes are not designed in such a fashion that we can share our every thought with another person and play in them. Resigned, I give up on my idea and keep walking, the beautiful green mermaid/angel taunting me from a distance.

I take a deep breath before pulling open the door preparing to dance my part. My eyes down, my nose full of café au laits, and espresso, I immerse myself in the coffee shop culture. I smile at the college-age barista with the deep brown eyes as he steams milk and pours shots of writing stimulant into my drink. I wonder what stories he has to tell. I could ask him; listen as he tells me with a slight John Wayne-like twang that he has 80 pages of anthropology reading to do after he gets off at eleven. I dawdle at the register sipping my four dollar latte curious about him, curious about everyone. He brushes his hands through his hair as he tells me all the different types of people that come in and out of his life each day. “People tend to bring their moods with them wherever they go,” he says. “It’s interesting to see how people change after they get their daily dose as opposed to before. Coffee seems to get the conversation going. They’ll sit and chat for hours with one another and then come back the next day and do it all over again.”

This barista is beginning to intrigue me; I feel like he should be a writer too. I tell him that I am a writer and I’m working on writing a piece right now but am having trouble trying to actually throw the words down on the page so that they will be consistent and enjoyed by others. “I think your brain isn’t as structured as language is and that’s why it is problematic to write stories even when you do have a good idea,” I tell him as he steams more milk for other impatient customers.
“This is why I love anthropology,” he says topping a cappuccino with a thick layer of whip cream, “You learn about humans and our development of language and culture. Primitive species used extrasensory perception as a means to surviving, think about how hard that would be to help each other out without being able to talk about it.”

“I understand how useful language is so that we can work together and survive, but think about how hard it is to write a story for someone when words themselves are not just words,” I pause to sip, “but are weighed down with connotations and memories. Now you see what I’m going through trying to write something that everyone will like.”

“Well that wouldn’t be that hard,” says a man who has just ordered a grande almond soy latte with an extra shot of espresso. “Stick to cliché stories. Everyone has lost love, or a loved one. I work for the Daily Camera and people like to read about things they understand and relate to, it’s that simple.” The brown-eyed barista finishes pouring the steaming milk into his drink and hands it to him. I tell him that he’s got a good point but it’s more boring to write in boxes, in dichotomies. He smiles at me and says, “That’s life.” And then he tips his hat and walks out the door.

I chat with the barista a bit longer but I feel his interest in the topic waning so I thank him for the coffee and the chit-chat, slip a dollar in the tip jar for his two cents and prepare my body for the cold that awaits out the windowed walls and brown java chairs.

The walk home is colder than the one there but my mind is swimming with thoughts so I hardly notice. The guy at Starbucks has a valid point; cliché stories are often successful because they are easily relatable. They fit the good vs. evil, white vs. black polarization that our society stands on to function. One of Bush’s many aphorisms surfaces on my thoughts: “Either you are with us, or you are with the terrorists.” The opposition is so clear, making room for interpretation impossible, but I think that it is the murky stuff in between that is so interesting. I’m either in favor of going to war with a bunch of people that I have never met before on the principles of democracy and “our duty as Americans” or I am a pacifist terrorist or a terrorizing pacifist. I am either a size 00 with eerie plastic facial features or I am everybody else. I’m engaged in a polar war of gay or straight, white or black and American or terrorist in my head. Me versus me. Who do I want to be today?

I arrive home uncomfortably conflicted and cold. The house is dark and no telltale glow of TV shines from out my family room window. I make my way up the stairs hoping that the caffeine will work its magic, stimulate the conversation between my head and paper, and teach my fingers to dance symphonies on the keyboard. I am, however, always a little too hopeful. I think back to my talk with the anthropologist/barista. Language may have been good to talk about making fire or gathering fruit, but I am trying to make something wonderful out of words that mean different things for each person. They become so full of emotion that meaning is lost; the word evolves into something new. Am I trying to animate dead corpses of words? This will be harder than I thought.

So here I have landed. I’m back at square one, slumped in my desk chair. As the soy latte drinker said, I’m only allotted certain boxes of clichés for story hour. I have the father-daughter relationship, where something happens, and someone is changed by it. Or I could use the boy meets girl cliché, something happens and someone is changed by it. It’s the mold of the story prepared for me and all I have to do is add ingredients. Blank page, blinking cursor.

Posted in General, Lifewith 16 Comments →

Forever in shadow & Forever in dead05.10.09

I’m feeling so dead today, both hell & heaven acting like strangers,
Why, instead of seeing angels & birds, I see scary whales everywhere,
Do I really want to fly, or do I simply want it as a tattoo?
If whales and monsters can really fly, I wonder if I can too?

I always knew it was the shadow, my shadow that kept me back,
and I always knew it was my shadow, the shadow that pulled me ahead,
Though today I wonder, if it was the other place where I would belong,
what if the shadow was me, and I have been the shadow all along?

Forever in shadow & forever in dead,
ohhhhhhhhh, ohhhhhhh ohh ohhhhhh!
Forever in shadow & forever in dead,
ohhhhhhhhh, ohhhhhhh ohh ohhhhhh!

Posted in Lifewith 9 Comments →

Thoughts: 12 brief signs that you are obsessively desperate for any relationship01.26.09

Relationships. Relationships. And more relationships. You probably experience different kinds of relationships every single day, or maybe every other month. You may like someone, and you may hate someone. Someone may like you, and someone may hate you. A relationship could be a professional one, or it could be an unprofessional one. It could be stereotypically stereotypical as a professional and unprofessional relationship, and it could be a combination of everything and be unstereotypical. In this article I would like to focus a bit on people who are desperate to be in any relationship, so desperate that their entire focus is to be in a relationship instead of on the other person.

In relationships, regardless of their nature, you may feel lonely or you may feel the exact opposite of loneliness, among many other things. The first part of my article series about bad relationship trends titled "Bad trends that hurt relationships – Part 1" focused, among other things, on some specific trends that hurt existing, new and potential relationships. The 12 points below focus briefly on signs, or traits, that may classify you as being desperate in and for a relationship, which could be the main driving force behind a person’s interest in being in any relationship.

I have been noticing some recurring trends of desperation for a while in different people I have met in person and online for a long time now. I decided to collect my thoughts and list 12 of the many basic signs of desperate-traits that define and lead the way for bigger characteristics in such people.

12 brief signs you are obsessively desperate for any relationship

Posted in Lifewith 10 Comments →

The Preemptive Initiative – A Beginning05.13.08

Hello everyone. Today I would like to briefly explore the possibility of a preemptive world. Preemptive action, in its simplest form, is an action taken before the existence of the actual need for the commitment of such an action.

An example of a preemptive strike

Instead of giving you the typical war example, let me give you a different example. Imagine you are going somewhere with a cup of hot water in your hand. I accidentally bump into you and cause you to spill the hot water on your clothes. Now, I immediately slap you after that. You look at me very mad and confused, either slapping me back or asking “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING &*(^%$ @#$%^&?” to which I say “I slapped you because you were going to slap me.” My action, in such a case, was preemptive. I slapped even before you slapped me or showed signs that you were going to slap me.

Posted in Lifewith 12 Comments →

Happy Birthday :) – 4-19-0804.19.08

Happy Birthday dear Emily! Smile Grin Razz Smile [sorry yet? Razz]

Posted in Lifewith No Comments →

Where Have I Been?01.20.08

Where have I been?“

That is the question the Bes had asked himself. He awoke from his slumber, still dazed from the narcotics that were flowing through his bloodstream.

The room was spinning and his vision blurry. He tried to get up. But couldn’t move. He tried to say something, but couldn’t speak.

Bes tried to inch his head upward to get a look around where he was. He was affixed to a wooden platform, which his feet, arms, and chest bound. He could barely move his head around to see his surroundings.

His vision still blurry, he could see that he was in a large, empty warehouse. The sun shown weakly through several stained windows, providing just enough light to know that Bes wasn’t alone.

I see you’ve come out of your slumber.“ a strange, coerce voice said.

Trying again to speak, Bes uttered out something undistinguishable.

I’m sorry about that.“ the voice said, “I had to take precautionary measures against you. Seems you’re more vicious than you look.“

Bes’s vision started to return and he could make out a faint image of a man sitting in a chair about 2 meters from the wooden platform. In the man’s hand was a long shiny (and sharp) object.

Posted in Lifewith 19 Comments →

Can I bark please?11.06.07

Serial Bes3:30 am. My phone is ringing. The famous Cingular ringtone is playing, and I start wondering about things. It is someone with a relationship issue on the other line; someone I met last week in class. “Ok, tell me in detail what she did.” It is someone called Bes, and he is complaining to me. His story goes on for hours, but the alarm clock says it’s 3:30 am. Is the clock not working?

What’s going on?

I don’t know. I have never seen Bes complain like every other typical person out there, maybe including you too. Some girl is after him, and he doesn’t want that. This girl is really aggressive, and he doesn’t want that. For some reason, I sense that something else is bothering Bes. Maybe it is not a feeling of being bothered, but maybe a feeling of feeling some unidentified feeling. “What is it Bes? Tell me…” He becomes quiet. That scares me. That really scares me.

Posted in Lifewith 11 Comments →

Thought: is it your obligation to help others in non-critical things?08.31.07

Image of a help sign drawn in beach sandEarly yesterday morning, someone told me that I was a nice person because I had moved my cell phone and some other things from an empty chair next to me in a hospital emergency room. That person was simply waiting for someone, and there were many other empty chairs also. Me freeing up one more chair for that other person to choose from was the same as performing a voluntary action which was in turn considered a nice action in that person’s view.

Later last night, while entering a movie theatre, I noticed one of the people ahead of me not keep the theatre door open for people behind him as he walked in. The person after him said loudly “At least keep the door open out of niceness“, implying that the first person’s inability for any reason to offer voluntary help was considered a bad thing. That got me wondering more about a slowly growing trend that I have been noticing for a very long time. Is offering help in non-critical situations an obligation?

What do I mean by helping others in non-critical things?

In my life, I deal with many life threatening situations regularly, as some of you from the offline world may already know. For this article, I would like to focus solely on non-critical situations, situations where without any help no real harm, other than a few things like someone getting upset because of someone else not being courteous enough to offer help. For example, I am referring to situations where help is considered voluntary when it is offered, like opening the door for someone as a courtesy; I am not referring to situations where not helping someone can result in someone losing a life or have their life damaged in some manner.

Helping others voluntarily is considered a nice habit. Why then is not helping voluntarily in a non-critical situation considered a bad thing?

Posted in Lifewith 2 Comments →


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