Importance

What is important to me? It seems that the answer to that question changes everyday. Right now, finishing this blog and doing my other assorted end of the year school work is important. That will, in turn allow me to do other important things, and so on.

The thing to realize about attaching importance to something is not to go overboard. If you attach too much importance to something, when that goal is reached/item breaks/plot line reaches a conclusion you are going to attach more importance to something else. Then you'll just be stuck in a revolving continuum of unimportant important things that you're always getting done, and your life will just be an empty void.

That said, something that is first and foremost in my mind right now, twenty-four seven, is college. I am going there soon. I need money; provided by a job (another important thing right now), and scholarships which are again funded by me doing well in school (which I alluded to in the beginning). This is important so I might find a better job in the future (yet another important thing), which will allow me to pursue my various hobbies (which must be important to me, seeing how much I speak/ type of them), and both of these things might help me attain success, which will eventually ( hopefully) lead to peace of mind. That's a reasonable goal to shoot for, right?

These things are important to me for several reasons. The first is that, well, someday I want to attain peace of mind, maybe with a little bit of accomplishment, and a sense of belonging mixed in. These thing in and of themselves are important to me, because they are instinctual cravings that I can't particularly explain in full. The other things are important, because they will help me achieve these goals. Thusly, you can see that I am caught in the very unhappy continuum I mentioned before. A realization has just occurred. This is important to meas well, because knowledge (and perhaps a smidge of wisdom) will assist greatly on my journey to the (henceforth named) "More Important Things" (peace of mind etc.). I have come to the realization that, perhaps I was wrong. Maybe just because something is cyclical, doesn't mean it will make you unhappy and devoid of meaning. Perhaps a certain amount of cyclicity is necessary to attain the 'More Important Things". My god...I could sell this crap in a book and make a bundle...

At any rate, I hold no illusions that any of this is going to be easy. That won't stop me from trying for it though. After all, It is important. Maybe that is what importance is. The understanding that one must still try for something, even though it will not be easy, or even possible. Deep things to ponder... and if you would like to ponder them with me, my newly published book can help you unravel the mysteries of the universe for only three easy payments of 9.99, sent directly to me in cash or money orders...

-Sholan out
(Calm. Cool. And almost collected.)

The Vermillion Medallion of Bravery

What is courage? Why don't you ask someone who has a ready and most likely flawed explanation for that question, like a soldier, or a fireman? That is not to say that there is any thing wrong with people who take up those career paths, but I was just stating that their textbook definitions of courage might be lacking, and therefore much easier to spew about with a great degree of confidence than any backwards, self-repeating, perfect, catch-all of a definition some useless intellectual like myself might try to come up with. That said, if my definition ends up technically better than a soldier's or a fireman's , that is solely because I have never encountered nor acted upon any feeling like it in my life.

To revisit a topic, I would like to let everyone know that I play a war game called Warhammer 40000. I am in the process of switching armies, and am reexamining my infatuation with it due to its producer's attitude towards its costumers (and the pervasive belief hat we are animals in a Pink Floyd album, and will consume upon demand any manner of ridiculousness) and the fact that I have found a significantly more enjoyable replacement. At any rate Aside from my quibbles with the company, Warhammer is a fine scale to use for defining courage. Thus, most of my definitions will result from my experience with the game on the table top, and various attitudes associated with its playing. I do this because I realize that sitting on my butt from the safety of my own home and writing some all inclusive definition of something I don't really know of is just pretentious. So I'll stick with what I know (the list of things that I know at this point in my life is limited to war games, boardwalk stands, the English language, and diabetes).

So then, courage in the back story of the WH40K (an abbreviation for warhammer 40000) is just rampant, and is strictly limited to gloriously crushing charges and blood drenched glorious last stands. A bit narrow in my opinion, and not at all befitting of my play style (though I know some who embrace the back story as the only way to play), but it is gothic sci-fi/fantasy after all. When I play (unless I am feeling particularly stupid, or simply don't want to play my current opponent) I tend towards the conservative. I don't enjoy losing half as much as winning, and like losing my men even less. After all, I spent hours painstakingly converting and painting them. I don't want them to die. As soon as I switch armies, I'll have an excuse to do this while at the same time reconciling it with the back story for my army (a clever commander with a certain protectiveness for his men). Currently, I assume this aspect of my play style simply reflects the selfish nature of my troops as individuals (right now I play Chaos, but am soon switching to Imperial Guard, who have a more normalized army structure). It also helps that my new army will be so heavy on long range artillery that it won't have to go anywhere near the opponent to win...

At the same time, while I like to play to save as many men as I can, in the end they are only plastic figurines. And one lesson I have learned the hard way is that if you don't take risks some of the time, you're going to lose out all of the time. But taking risks doesn't just mean doing something potentially idiotic. It means doing something unexpected, that could end up being potentially idiotic. Like going after a different unit or objective than your opponent expected, or abandoning base to set up an ambush. Sometimes, it means doing something so absolutely crazy that your opponent will feel like they've just woken up from a come induced four years ago by an angry ex who shot up their wedding. For example, (one of my best games, no matter what my friend may say about it) I once nearly tied a game without firing a single shot. I parked my guys in strategic positions, ad let the mere threat of their firepower nearly deliver me victory. Of course, I lost that game (because it was the first time I had encountered eldar transports and their 24" move-dickerry in an actual game, but I digress). In fact, I was ridiculed for having played that game the way I did. Everyone thought I should have charged up and ripped face, and called me a pansy for not haing the guts to to so, come what may (matter of fact it was a very narrowly won game, and after running some statistics (which my back story playing friends despise along with sense and tactics) I found out that I would have lost much more significantly if I had put myself in a position to attack my opponent. GG Pockets). So now I have my own question, is stupidity courage?

So there you have it, a four hour rant about how I play warhammer and why. Now to tie it in to courage. My definition is not a catch-all, is not based on real under fire experience, and is likely to sound completely hokey and corny, but it is based on something I know, and (hopefully) do rather well. You see, to me, courage is doing whats best for those around you, no matter the cost to yourself, but still retaining the willingness to barter what is important to you (in my case, the 'lives' of my men, and/or a shot at winning) to take a risk that could better theirs or your own position (or insert noun here). It begins with caring and ends with conviction. And above all, it's about staying true to yourself and surprising others with sheer authenticness. And it's a lesson I think I am finally beginning to take to heart...

Earliest Memories

My earliest memory is that of my fifth birthday party. I was skinny back then, energetic and open minded. The world was my oyster, and the people I knew weren't trying to use my person as a tool to accomplish their own ends, nor I using theirs for my own. I wore thick, square, plastic rimmed nerd glasses. I was curious about all aspect of the world, and had the capacity to devour and learn anything and everything my family's limited resources could throw my way. It was a good time, a simpler time. But all of that pales in comparison to the reason I have kept this most cherished of memories. I would have a special surprise that day. Perhaps the greatest in the history of all male five year celebrations of birth.

You see, it was a bright autumn evening, early enough that the sun hadn't yet set, but cool enough for a long sleeved flannel (is there any other kind?). My birthday is in October, quite near hallows eve, so the decorations (and cake frosting) were resplendent in orange and black. I was standing on a crate ready to blow out the candles and make another optimistic childhood wish, when the greatest moment of my life (up to that point) occurred. BATMAN walked in! Frigging' BATMAN! Now, in case you did not know this, BATMAN is my favorite superhero evar. He was giant! Six foot tall, muscular, and he had a beer gut. Of course, in my excitement I failed to notice that last detail (which might just ave tipped me off to the cruel ruse that was afoot). But come on, how many times a day does BATMAN (or anyone vaguely dressed like BATMAN, for that matter) just up and walk into your house?

Now if you think this was exciting, that has nothing on his next actions. He proceeded to take me to the roof of my own house where he had set up an extensive zip line system, allowing myself and my three other guests under the weight limit of sixty pounds to rappel down to the ground in what can only be described as the most dangerously exciting moments of my entire life. Now I was BATMAN for all the world knew. And for three hours, my life was perfect.

But lo, good reader, it was not to last. The tale I tell today shall not be one of happiness, but a tragedy rife with heartbreak , and stories of innocence lost. For at the end of the party, BATMAN lifted his all concealing mask and revealed himself to be not Bruce Wayne (President and CEO of Wayne Industries) , but an old family friend by the name of Roberto (we called him "tio", a Latin based honorific roughly translatable to uncle). Needless to say, I was utterly crushed for the nextfive minutes. Then I came to my senses , and found a deep apreciativeness for what he had done for me. Also, I got to keep the BATMAN suit (which is now torn and too small for me). The lessson here is of course that, "Its not the friends you have that count, It the memories you make with them."

-sholan out
(rappelling from a skyscraper)

Personal Privacy: Importance

Privacy is very important to me. In fact, it is so important that I do not feel comfortable posting this blog lest I expose you to the workings of my inner sanctum of seanliness. Just kidding. I have no problems exposing you to my secret machinations. I'll just have to kill you afterwards.


On a related note, I have an actual example to support my hypothesis on the importance of privacy (that it is, in fact, important) You see, I was going over my previous blog entries a little while ago, and I found out that I am, in fact, deceased (read my previous blog entries and you will find the episode in which I died). This happened due to a lack of privacy in my attempts to not so secretly undermine our glorious raptor lords. Yes, I was eaten by a velociraptor. So remember kids, privacy can save your life. And no, I will not describe in detail what it is like being dead. I value my privacy too much.

Of course, being not alive makes getting that crucial privacy so much easier. My body is just a rotting scrap of its former self buried deep beneath the ground, and people can't actually see my radiant new form as the tangible display of raw ethereal might it truly is. That is to say, for all intents and purposes, I am invisible. a fact that is no doubt distressing to the young man whose computer I am using to type this blog. Don't worry Douglass, I won't be here long.

Well, back when I was alive, my strategies for hoarding my privacy were the same as those I used for avoiding conflicts (detailed in the same blog entry in which I was eaten). I was rather reclusive and meek. At home anyway. I didn't call attention to myself, and as a result, my life was so surprisingly private and well guarded that the Raptor overlords let me entertain the notion that I could bring about some form of successful rebellion against them by toiling in secrecy. Of course, I was a fool for thinking so, for the Raptors see all.

So at the last, I must illustrate to you all the folly of expecting privacy. In the end the only way to be shielded from the omniscient eyes of our Raptor overlords is to be semi-existent, like myself. And even now I am not so sure that they aren't monitoring my every action.

Praise the Raptor overlords, and Praise to Vog.

A matter of life and death, part 2

If I could design a school curriculum, it would center on techniques to integrate humanity into our future role as the serving caste of our magnificent raptor overlords. There would be classes on the history of raptoria, raptorian grammar, and classes on raptoirian technology, that the most intelligent amongst us might be able to understand given adequate time and instruction (it is, after all, the most advanced technology in the known universe.)
There are many ways to ensure that all material taught is learned properly. The techniques that are to be most commonly employed by our supreme raptor overlords will be shock therapy and practical application. This of course means that if you fail to grasp the basics of living as a member of the serving caste in Raptorian society after the two mandatory sessions of shock therapy scheduled for all pending raptorian citizens, you will be fed to the ravenous young of the raptor overlords. If you fail to learn Raptor after two mandatory sessions of shock therapy, you will be fed to the young of our raptor overlords. And if you fail your technology class, you will be barred from enrolment in their computer technician program. Then you shall be fed to the young of our raptor overlords.
And scheduling is the beauty of it. After your first two lessons, there is no more need for education, as one is either a productive and valued member of the raptorian serving caste, pursuing education in one of a number of non-serving caste careers, or has been rendered into sustenance for the young of our glorious raptor overlords. As such, the lessons themselves shall proceed as follows: All applicants pending Raptorian citizenship will receive a brain implant which provides all the requisite knowledge necessary to live as a productive member of the raptorian serving caste. Those who are intelligent enough to recall the majority of the information provided after the two mandatory shock therapy sessions, will be allowed to become a member of the raptorian serving caste. Those students who exhibit significant intelligence may be allowed to receive additional education in a non-service field at the discretion of or magnanimous raptor overlords.
Homework is, for obvious reasons, not a necessity in the regular raptorian classes. Those intelligent enough to seek alternative education after the basic courses shall recieve a significant amount of homework. These assignments are usually meted out by the course instructor and are designed to serve as a final test as well as homework average. Those unable to complete their assignments and /or unable to meet course requirments will be lobotomized and made into slave-servitors.
So work well and quickly. Do what is commanded of you, and do your best to further the interests of our raptor overlords, and everything will be just fine. Raptoria is the happiest and most advanced utopia in the known universe, untouched by disease, strife, poverty, and death. It is a shining beacon of enlightenment amidst the darkness of the void
All hail our Raptor overlords, and the great society of Raptoria! Praise be to Vog!
(eeek-hruuk awrkaer minckt tureek erwaaak!)

A matter of life and death.

Velociraptors.

They are nine feet long, travel in packs of twenty, and know no fear. They are masters of disguise, infiltration, and propaganda. Streamlined for land travel at over 65 mph evidence suggests that their feathers allow them to glide distances of up to 50 meters. They also boast one of the most advanced societies in the known universe. They may already be among us, subjugating us and devouring any resistance. We must unite if we wish to resist them for long enough to develop technology to rival theirs.

Do you know of anyone who may be a disguised velociraptor and/or velociraptor splinter cell?

What would you do to survive a velociraptor attack for as many seconds as possible (if you were alone, or in a group of fewer than 50 people)?

Should we attempt to resist, or would it be better to be peacefully absorbed into the hyperadvanced society of Raptoria?

If we choose to assert our independence as a race, is there any hope that we might succeed in driving off the raptors for at least a short period of time?

Do you have a particularly ingenious plan for defeating (or staving off) the velociraptor menace? If so send me an encrypted file detailing this plan, and remember, the raptors are watching your every move. Be careful.

Humanity needs you.

Write about these things.

Career possibilities.

I think about what I want to do constantly. Not just in terms of careers, but everything. Very little of it ever gets done. While that makes me worried for my future, it makes for a good writing topic to elaborate on mindlessly.

I'm one of those people whose known what I wanted to do since I was about three. Except every time I think I get it down, and begin learning about my chosen field, another one pops up that captures my interest even more. This has happened from from Heman right on up to psychology. In case you're wondering about that last sentence, it means that yes, at some point I wanted to be Heman, professionally.

Holding off on my current possible future craze, I have to say that I have been able to check off jobs in terms of what I don't want to be. This isn't because of a dislike of the parameters of the jobs in any case, but due either to inability, or irrational fear. Mathematician is one, mostly because really advanced mathematical formulae tend to leave my head spinning, and are usually involved in staring right down the universe's gullet, which freaks me out even more. Also, conspiracy theorists tend to point to them as proof positive of their raucous claims, and despite any previous statements I may have made, anything I have EVER said involving a conspiracy theory was in complete mockery of the theorists. Except about the moon landings. That crap totally didn't happen. Any way, mathematics out. As understanding too much freaks me out so much (don't get me wrong, I'd like to know everything, but this isn't Superman Red Son, and I do think that there is only so much a human can know before they go completely insane) physicist is out too. I'll leave that shite to Michio Kaku. Oddly enough, I'd still be open to the concept of a career in philosophy if any of those existed. Perhaps because that only involves questioning things as opposed to answering those questions.

Now, I can imagine myself doing a host of things. So many that I am not, sadly, going to attempt to list them here. I will, instead focus on two that have the highest probability of acctually happening at this point. The first is obvious. As you may no doubt know, I am "wordy" as Thomas Tuorto, puts it. I have no shame for this facet of my personality. In addition, I am something of a human dictionary. Lastly, my low self esteem makes it necessary for myu to put down others constantly to keep afloat on the tides of human emotion threatening to engulf me every day. As such, one career I can see myself pursuing is the lonely life of the editor (of any kind) or the verbally abusive path of the teacher of professional writing courses. I jest about the negatives associated with those careers, but in seriousness, owing to my love for language and its correct usage, I can see myself pursuing those careers.

The other career path I can see myself pursuing came to my mind this morning in epphay form. For the last few months I have been taking a college level course in culture and language. Having covered language above, I shall here focus on the culture. This course is now rapidly drawing to a close, and its completion leaves me with the startling realization that I like culture. Learning, practicing, opening my mind to, whatever form it takes, I enjoy encountering it. So I figure I may have a career in anthropology. Or whatever the study of culture is called nowadays... So yeah.

-Nolan out.
(speaking ever so humbly)

Wisdom Defined

What is wisdom? Aside from a useless ability score in dungeons and dragons (heyo!)? I have never encountered an official definition, but to me, it is the regulator of intelligence. Know a lot? You're intelligent. Know when to use that intelligence? Now you're wise. There isn't any one specific way to measure wisdom. There isn't a test for it. It is something that grows and ebbs over time. Some people are wiser than others in general, and some of us are wiser than others at specific times. It is situational for the everyday man, but sometimes, one is born who is truly wise (this can also apply to women). If it sounds corny, that's because it is a delicious nugget of valid information. And corn is delicious. And why shouldn't it be (valid that is, not delicious)?

People acquire wisdom in only one manner. Through experience. This is why older folks are often held up as wise. They have experienced more, and are therefore more wise than the rest of us. This isn't exclusively the case though. And I have to say that one of the wisest people I know of is (or was, still kind of iffy on that) very young. Kel, of Keenan and Kel/Goodburger fame is the wisest person I recall having ever seen. He didn't know much, but he always knew what to say and when to say it, be it a simple, "welcome to goodburger..." or something deeper (perhaps having to do with orange soda?) . Kidding aside, there were moments when he said some truly profound things. That's what I want to model my wisdom on. And for the mst part I think I apply this form of wisdom quite well in my life. I don't often say profound or moving things, but when I do, it's something mind-blowingly, life-changingly zen.

As an afterthought, listening is a key to being wise. By listening, the wise can ascertain if and when to share their intelligence. Too bad not many people are.

For many an age my mind, like my room had been cluttered. Stuffed with needless bits and pieces. Confused, ineffective, and nigh on useless for anything other than sleeping. This was fine, because that is what rooms are for, right? Then with a swift upheaval akin only to the fiercest volcanic explosion, everything changed. My mind has taken some time to realize that it has changed, but my room was as a result faced with a prospect that hadn't been proposed since before the elves crossed the sea. It needed to be cleaned. And so it was. No longer does the smell of decaying bodies waft about in the abode of Sean Nolan. And now I just might have a space that reflects myself. Not that it didn't before, but now there might exist a place on this earth that can reflect what I am becoming.
Now you may not have noticed that I referenced J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of The Rings three or four times in that last sentence. While this does not have a direct bearing on my room as it is currently, I must point out the fact that nearly everything in my current room is influenced by my love of those books. I began my warhammer-ing out of a need to recreate epic battles in some form or other. Most of my video games are fantasy RPG's or strategy games. My bed is elevated on plastic risers to stave off bedbugs, but I like to pretend that this was a design decision incorporated to make it look like the high tower of Orthanc. Because everyone knows that Orthanc is cooler than Barad-Dur. At any rate, now that this fantastical country is clean and orderly I can give you the unavoidable virtual tour...
The first thing you'll notice upon entrance to land of Sean, is that it, like myself, is a bit odd. Not for me the blues, greens, lavenders, whites. My room is a pastel brown. And we are thinking of repainting it. Red. Upon entrance, a sharp turn to the right reveals my dresser, wardrobe and mirror sitting behind some shelves. Or as I like to call it, "my shrine to all things hobby." Here I keep the various armies, paints, tools, glues, lights, odds, ends and bits I plan to use to eventually dismantle our pathetic current society and supplant them with. That was Sean speak for "take over the world." I also keep some clothes there. Nice clothes. It's not worth taking over the world if I can't do it in style.
After turning to the left 90 degrees upon hitting my dresser, we find my bed which, as I recall mentioning, is raised. Thusly it is slightly higher than a normal bed, making a fall out of it particularly painful as my floor is a vast expanse of textured vinyl. Next to this is my one nightstand *rimshot*. It contains my books, and anything I can't afford to forget to take on my person the next day upon waking (wallet, glasses, phone, etc.). Upon this nightstand sits a marble slab lamp. I just think it's cool looking.
Finally, after another 90 degree left turn, we reach the wall that would have been on our left coming in. This houses my monument to gaming, and a dresser with clothing in it. This monument consists of a large and sadly, immobile entertainment center and a very old tv. I know. I am an inadequate gamer.
As you can see, this room houses nearly every aspacet of my life. It takes it's inspiration from its occupants, and has even come tto reflect some aspects of its ruler. Does that mean it reflects who I am 100 percent? I doubt it. But it will eventually. Maybe through my own tangible actions. Maybe through some siphoning of my personality through more sisnster means...But it will reflect me eventually. At any rate, now that it (and my mind) clutter-free, maybe I can find out what will be reflected.

Avoiding Conflicts...

You know, technically this blog isn't late yet, as the internal clocks housed within the infernal machineries of blogger have deemed it to be only six days since this blog was assigned. As such I expect full points for what so ever I happen to say here. I'll be watching you very closely Mr. Mannion...

On an unrelated, but still actually slightly related note, conflict. It is by its very nature unpleasant, and best avoided. But how does one go about avoiding it? Well, first one must learn to blend into a social setting, completely and immediately. Be the guy that sits in the back of the class. The stranger at the bar who keeps to themselves. Even better, become a recluse who only leaves their home once a month to go grocery shopping and smells vaguely of cabbage... Oh, you say you want to avoid conflict while retaining some semblance of a functional life? This is trickier.

The first thing you should know in this case, is that some conflict is unavoidable. Strategies for conflict avoidance are nice and encouraging, but useless once it all hits the fan. The easiest way to avoid prolonging a conflict is a simple strategy I like to call "cut and run". This is useful for avoiding the brunt of most conflicts that are actively seeking you (bullies, obnoxious friends, earthquakes etc.). Note that this doesn't singularly mean that you must physically run in every situation. Sometimes it means making swift, uncompromising, and completely unbelievable concessions. "Yes, it was my fault that you crashed your car into that pole over there while I was sitting right here minding my own business. I will immediately call my insurance company to recompense you scary gorilla man..." or "yes Mike/Pat/Russell/Brendan I am an idiot". This will help you simply shut down a conflict before it begins, either by ensuring that you are not physically in the area of the conflict, or by making sure there is no conflict to be had. I know this through experience.

This strategy for conflict mediation/avoidance will not work in all situations however. Sometimes conflicts will come looking for you, and there will be no chance of escape or concession. Your girlfriend may suspect you of cheating (which you may or may not have done) or a pack of hungry velociraptors may take a liking to the tender flesh of your underarms. There is no way to avoid these conflicts (mainly because girlfriends and velociraptors both travel in packs of twenty and run at over thirty-five miles per hour when enraged/hungry. Also, they know no fear and have three inch long talons with which to eviscerate you.) There is therefore only one way to resolve situations like these. A combination of regular cardio exercise, and superior fire power. Bring not one, but two shotguns. Everywhere. And grenades. Lots of grenades. Also make sure to choose a quality semi/fully automatic sidearm (that's military speak for pistol) and always be stocked with an inexhaustible supply of ammunition for it. Because in the face of velociraptors you will run out of shotgun shells, and grenades...

Now, if you should come out in the wrong in a conflict, make sure to apologize and attempt to make things right ("Sorry for cheating on you honey, and also I apologize for shooting you in the trachea while I was blind with fear."). There's no use in losing a valuable friend/parent/sibling/lover to an accidental burst of automatic pistol fire and hurt feelings. Just apologize. If they haven't already bled out, then I am 100% certain that all will be forgiven. In time.

Now, as for helping people resolve their own conflicts, why do you think I wrote this? After all, if I can- Wait, did you hear that? I think it saw me! Oho, she's a big one... Have at you bipedal lizard of death!!!! (Sounds of a shotgun being fired cease abruptly as the author of this post emits a long gurgling death rattle)

Sean Nolan's Excellent Adventure

Yes, that is a reference to that movie. If I cloud visit any time, and could only visit one time, I would visit some murky time of postulation before the first religion was created, and proclaim myself a messiah, sent from the future to teach those backwards inhabitants the error of their ways, and give them some advanced future technology (by which I mean current technology) in the hope that they could advance upon it over time. I would then instill into them a deep and abiding respect for their fellow human, and teach them to treat each other as equals. That way the entire world would become a socially stable and highly advanced utopia. I would of course teach them to be wary of artificial intelligence, lest the robots turn upon their creators. In addition to the awesome future utopia, I would be venerated as a god, and have an entire planetary population to lead into the stars, and later abandon (declaring them corrupt beyond repair) so I could watch them scramble for the scraps left behind in the wake of their deity's absence and tear each other apart in their fanatical zeal to prove themselves worthy of me...

If I could go to more than one place then I'd probably just have fun with it. Think about it. So much to see, so little time...
In chronological order I would: Hang out with the great ancient philosophers of Greece (whom I hear throw great parties), visit the Egyptians with the gift of 80's pop music (yes that song), call Caligula crazy, watch Constantine make his rounds, become a member of a Celtic Tribe, give Charlemange tactical advice, watch the battle of Hastings, crown a monarch as an endorsed saint of the Roman Catholic Church, invent the first gun, tag along with Marco polo, discover America (Seaninania), sail around the world for the first time, invent a foodstuff, become a monarch, abdicate my throne, live in an actual victorian house, avert the assassination of Abraham Lincoln, give the writer of Sherlock Holms a signed copy of his own book, incite world war one by beating the assassin to the punch, join a mafia by passing myself off as 100% sicilian (yes that used to be the requirement), incite the Russian revolution, avert world war two by assassinating hitler and convincing america that their interests were significantly threatened by the axis (warn them of the Pearl Harbor bombing), avert american involvement in the Vietnam war by assassinating LBJ, stop the assassination of John F. Kennedy (before the LBJ thing if I was doing it chronologically), prevent the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks, and tell everyone (via video recordings) that "No, they dont have weapons of mass destruction..." and for the love of all that is holy, STOP LIVING BEYOND YOUR MEANS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That last bit was for my own sanity. Also, I would make sure that everyone involved knew who I was and that I was promptly rewarded for all of these things (except the dangerous ones...those would happen secretly....).

Advice to a younger self...

What would I say to myself if I could go back in time and give myself some good advice? That isn't hard to say, though most of my advice would assume some hopefully existent modicum of motivation, and a willingness to listen to myself. I would have a bit to say about most things, and I sincerely hope that I was mature enough four years ago to realize that the dearly bought experience that I might contain in four years time could only be bought through a painfully potent blend of trial and error, and missed opportunities. I'm not saying that my life is hopelessly screwed up beyond repair, but it certainly isn't as great as it could be. I am young, and still have time to decide what it is I want to do with my life, to learn how to manage my assets (well), and to use the prodigious physical and mental abilities I was gifted at birth. What I am saying is that I have time to change (barely) and so hope that through the typing of this blog, I can encourage myself to do better. At life.

If I could speak to myself three years ago, I would tell myself to hit the gym. Stop eating, sitting around, doing nothing particularly important, and go exercise. Because six months ago, I became a diagnosed diabetic. And my life hasn't exactly improved because of this. In addition I'd tell myself to watch my eating habits. Not change them exactly, but observe and cut back a little. This is probably the singular most momentous occurrence in my life in the last decade. It has changed the way my entire life operates and it could have been avoided if I had been a bit more careful. On the plus side, I can still turn this around. Yes diabetes is actually curable if you catch it early enough...

I wouldn't just talk about my myriad of avoidable health problems though. I'd tell myself to get a planner. I don't care if the school gives me one. I'd make myself go out and purchase a personal planner, and monitor myself for a week to make sure I used it. It could have been that helpful. I pride myself on having a fairly good memory, but no one can indefinitely hold on to an increasing pile up of facts. At any rate, having a simple book to write things down in could have set me up for a success the like of which I have almost never known. I'd almost certainly be a much more productive member of society at any rate. So now I'm going to do my darnedest to make up for it as my next blog (posted tonight) will attest to. Yay productivity!

The next thing I would drill into my tiny untempered skull is to ALWAYS do my homework. Seems like a simple enough thing to grasp right? Well it is the one thing I have tried time and again to hold onto, and I have failed to master this simple tenet time and time again. Obviously I am already trying to fix that (even as we spea-I type) but this doesn't only apply to my past self. To everyone reading this of the age 16 or younger (not that that actually ever happens): DO YER FRIGGIN' HOMEWORK!!!!1!!!one!!! Seriously though, this is important. Because of my failure to grasp this concept whole heartedly, I didn't know how to study. I didn't have any homework to review as a result of my failing, and that resulted in, well, failing. Tests. Many of them. Many of then I would have been quite bettter off passing.

Finally I would tell myself to grow a pair and go for things. You can't win if you don't try. Not saying anything isn't better than saying something hurtful. It's just more secret. Maybe it wouldn't have been hurtful. Not trying is the number one cause of failure...etc.etc. It took me a while to grasp this, but I think bashfulness and an unwillingness to put my neck on the line occassionally means that I miss out on things. And worse yet, sometime trying does backfire. Still I would tell myself to do this. To join drama a year earlier, take an active interest in the clubs I join. To lead (to a small extent, because I truly dislike leadership and have no envy for the big leaders). Hopefully my non-inhibition won't backfire in any really horrific ways n the future.

At any rate, if I did get the chance to tell myself these things, I sincerely hope that I would listen. In fact, I'd probably tell myself to listen to me. On a serious note, I'm off to tackle the problems disscussed.

Distrbution of wealth (for real this time)

Some people have more money than others. Some people don't . Most people have more money than me. Do I think that this is fair? No I do not. If there is one thing that my life has taught me, it is that money is an absolute necessity, and while it may not bring happiness by itself, it certainly helps. Is actually fair that those aforementioned people have more money than me? Probably. So let's move on to class divisions.

"So I know what you're thinking. 'With all these poor people lazing about complaining, how can I count my money?' or 'With those rich people sending all their jobs overseas, how can I work to feed my family?' I know you ask yourselves these and other questions, but it can all be summed up in one sentence. Isn't a man entitled to the sweat of his brow?" Before I continue quoting Andrew Ryan (those of you who've played bioshock will know) I ask that you consider his well written fictitious words. What he asks forms the basis of my answer ( and the capitalist family of economic systems). If you work hard, you'll be working hard. But if you set your mind to taking every available scrap of currency you come across with both hands, well then you'll be making money. There are no jobs out there is a lame excuse. I should know, I've used it often enough. If you want to be one of the uncomplaining rich men who so kindly (slight allusion to bioshock again) put up with all of your peasantry and excuses, then take don't complain.

Now what I am describing sounds awfully similar to our current system of wealth distribution enacted in this country, doesn't it? By and large, I agree with the us on this particular topic. "But what about the different socialist programs in place to help the common man? What about those of us who fall on actual hard times?" Well, I support those programs too, insomuch as they help people who aren't trying to abuse them. To those people who actually succeed in abusing a system such as welfare, I must publicly show a mild disdain, but I can't hate them because they embody a basic tenet of capitalist money making. Get as much as you can, as fast as you can. Take with both hands.

One might say that such a system as capitalism might then encourage certain comrades to take part in crimes geared towards securing as many funds as possible. This may be true. One could then make a case that certain other economic-political systems might encourage genocide. This could also be true. What I am trying to say at this point in this particular mindless rambling is that I am not qualified to say whether this entire system (or any other for that matter) is fair, or right, but that I agree with it. I was raised under it, and having experienced no other system of wealth distribution with which to compare it, I agree with it. Now, I am off to take with both hands. From poor orphans. Good day.

Distribution of Wealth.

Defining love.

Love cannot be defined. Except by easy to understand quasi-mathematical formulae. So borrowing Mr. Mannion's equation for a moment, I have determined that love is hormones and an instinctual need not to be alone all the time, with a little bit of finding someone you get along with mixed in. This is why one can love cookies. Still following me?
By finding someone you get along with, I don't mean a friend, or someone you have something in common with. I mean someone you'd be willing to be around for the majority of your waking life without going insane. I am not referring to marriage, simply that an admission of love for something or someone means that you want the around, a lot. So save the love for people you can actually stand.
Now, love doesn't look, sound, taste, or smell like anything, but it does feel good. Kind of warm and fuzzy. Those are the raging chemical imbalances that the sight of your object of affection causes in you. Yes, love is damaging your innards with its hormonal effects. I hope you enjoy that fuzzy feeling, because it is KILLING YOU! No, not really. But it is caused by chemicals in your body. I get the same feeling after I finish painting a mini really well. That's probably just because I haven't eaten or slept for three days by that point though.
So where does one find love? Anywhere. The human being is an unfathomable beast, and we cannot say where he/she will find a suitable object of affection. We are just that random. And while I don't think there is anyone who could fail to muster love for something, I must readily admit that some people (mother Teresa, Gandhi etc...) have way too much of it.
So now you know everything you could ever need to know about love, in my opinion. Which is always FACT. And if you should run across something that isn't covered under this comprehensive guide, hesitate lengthily before asking me about it.

Punishment...

So as an interesting note, not only is this blog almost on time, but it being done means that I am finally caught up with all the blogs...bound to happen sometime I suppose.

If a person does something that society deems wrong, they should encounter consequences. Not every societal mistake needs a punishment, but norms are the tools used to regulate society as a whole, and should be followed to an extent for ease of life, right? Criminals break norms to a greater degree than the schmuck who puts his pants on backward though. They threaten society as a whole, and should be dealt a set of consequences matching their infractions against peace. What we do currently doesn't do that. So without further ado, Sean Nolan's What Should Be Done With Criminals.
Prisons suck. I would hate to be in one, so I may not be the best person to comment on their running/set-up, but they suck. To be in and in the way they are run. They don't particularly punish those placed in them, and it is all too easy for guilty persons to avoid them, and innocent persons to be thrown in. Though I wouldn't want to go to jail (I like collecting 200$ every go around, thank you very much!) after some thought it should be easy to realize that modern prisons in most first-world countries are little more than under glorified hotels, where the customers stay free. And everyone else pays for them...
So the first thing to happen in my new prison system is that the free part changes. Well, it doesn't change so much as become...less painful for the taxpayers. Get rid of the TVs, recreation, Internet, college courses, and elective activities. Make it a hole. You killed someone? And you're telling me that while you're in jail you want to check your Facebook? Not a chance. You do, however get a 5 by 5 cell complete with concrete blocks, and cot. Now give all prisoners a choice between this cell, and joining a new branch of the military. Throw those that don't join in one of the cells and feed them three times a day for the duration of the time they need to serve, or until the world forgets their existence. Now use this new military division to launch an invasion of every country we are at war in after a training period of 4-6 months. We will win those wars, and thereby end the financial strain on taxpayers due to two simultaneous wars and inefficient prison systems. This money goes back into the economy as people celebrate, and that becomes fixed as well. Now that I've solved all of America's problems in one fell swoop, I'm going to start a new warhammer army that has been inspired by my senseless ranting....Penal Legion LXVII...

Alooooone...

How am I at being alone you ask? Lucky joyous day for you! Alon-ness is one of my major sub-specialities, right after food and impotent rage. Sad as it may sound, I am often alone. I live amongst a hive of the idiotic, and do not mean that with any sarcasm or ill intention. It is simply a fact. See I'm pretty smart (I say so now without hubris, having been unable to say that at many points in my life before) and most of the people in Seaside Heights are not. See Jersey Shore for more detail. This has caused me much torment and frustration, nourishing in me the most socially-withered of introverts. So being alone? For most of my life, I only ever wanted to be alone.
Now that I have to deal with people on a daily basis, I find that perhaps my social skills weren't so terrible after all. I do enjoy the company of others, but I don't like having it foisted upon me. That's why my current situation works out so well. I have almost no close friends in Seaside, and mostly interact with the people here only when I am forced to. They are indifferent and leave me alone. Which I like. When I feel like seeing someone, having an intelligent conversation, or hanging out, I usually go to Bayville or Bricktown, wherein reside most of my friends/ acquaintances.
I don't necessarily wish for more or less alone time. I certainly wish I had more time to do things, but that's another matter. When I am alone, I usually read or think. Yes my procrastination does actually spread to things I enjoy doing, so I cannot claim that my hobby or my video games occupy most of my time. It's just sitting in my house, reading or thinking. While this does sound boring, I find that good books almost never are. And the human mind is an absolutely incredible thing for those of us using it, so just try asking yourself a question and come up with as many deeply detailed answers as you can. Sure way of entertaining yourself for a few hours at least.
So while I don't like being either alone, or being surrounded by friends, there is one thing that my alone time does give me that I am certain many of the people I know are without. I have a sense of calm in my life. I worry about things, and have deadlines to meet, like normal people (though I only rarely meet them). However, I try to move at my own pace. Most of the time I succeed and the pace, while slow, is matched perfectly to my capabilities. Besides, I need to be able to plan frequently to move at my own pace; and if there is one thing being alone gives you, it is time to plan.

Vacation Time...

Do people in the U.S. get enough vacation time? No. Does my family? No....What? You want more? Fine then.

I shall review my family's vacation time, and give a step by step statistical analysis (based on career 'choice') of it. I shall then compare this to the rest of America, and the world at large. Mostly I shall complain for those unable to do so.

To begin with myself. I get just enough vacation time. The school system seems (to me) well formatted, if lacking in other areas. Surprised I'm not vehemently begging for more time out of school? Do not be. I have no life outside of school except for when I travel outside of my place of residence, which is frankly a reeking cesspool of unhappiness and broken lives. And dreams. We'll call it Seaside Heights. Also remember, I am disorganized, not inherently lazy. So for me? No, I don't need more vacation time (I frequently get more, but that is often against my will. I am sickly).

My mother. Her vacation time follows the same rules as mine (except that she is not sickly) she being a teacher. However, I don't think she gets very much vacation time at all. Between college, school, and tending to a houseful of the emotional equivalent of mewling infants (who can make quite a mess) she doesn't seem to have any downtime. Ces't la vie. At least she can say she has a vacation.


My father on the other hand, can not even pretend to take a vacation. He is a painter. when he stops, it's generally bad news. Still, being his own boss means he can take a few days off to get something done around the house if he needs to. Still, work comes first, last, and in between. Not a lot of leisure time left in there.

Would some time of make us more happy? Perhaps. Do I want to dwell on what might be/have been? Not a chance. I'll take or vacation deprived psyches over your happy ones any day.

And as for America. Lsten. Two out of fifty-two weeks is not enough. I'd try to share the message with my own family if I thought I could get through to them. Yell, lobby, do something to get more time for yourselves. And don't let people call you a layabout, or lazy scum, just because you value personal time and relaxation. They haven't gotten to me yet, after all. With luck, theywon't get you either.

Nolan out.

If someone gave me a plane ticket to anywhere in the world and unlimited monies, I would go to the British Isles. The UK. Our mother country. "Why would Sean Nolan want to go there of all places?" I hear you ask. Seems a bit boring for me doesn't it? Well, all I can say is I'm not finished yet, but hear me out about this one.

England, as it just so happens, is the Warhammer capital of the world. Sean Nolan's preferred vision of the afterlife that doesn't involve becoming an actual space marine, if you will. Games day, the Golden Demon painting competition, Forge world, Phil Kelly and dozens of events, locations, retailers, and august personages that I can only dream of ever seeing are housed within what, as far as I'm concerned, is just a corporation I like pretending to be a country.
Plus, they speak the same language (for the most part).

Don't get me wrong. This isn't my only reason for wanting to go to that particular region (though it is close to 99%). Right across a small stretch of sea is my dad's place of birth Wexford, Ireland. Between learning more about my family, picking up a damn cool accent, and enjoying the rolling green landscape, I figure there's something for me there to. I would, of course sample the cuisine, having a familiarity with some of it, and an open mind for all the rest.

Other than that, it's all about Warhammer, and I wouldn't pass up the opportunity to learn, play, and pick up a *cough* "few" souvenirs...The guy (or girl) paying for all this probably should have placed an upper limit on sovenirs purchases....unlimited funds...*begins salivating*

After this little excursion, I'd visit Brazil. Though I think the Amazon is cool and all, can't say I'd spend all, or even the majority of my time there. You see, I am not particularly stoic. And neither are you. We all say it would be cool to spend time out in that there forest, but after a bit of study (and previous experience) long stays there aren't for those of us who live a sheltered existance.

That isn't to say there aren't other reasons for going. I'd love to catch up with my family, am addicted to Brazilian food (coxinha...best...edible...ever...*drool*) and always wanted to visit the giant Jesus...

It goes without saying that I'd be looking for games of Warhammer in all of these countries the entire time. Even if I'm out of school, class is always in session...or something like that...

Too much homework...(one month later)

As our Ford once said, "excuses abut too much homework are bunk." Surprised? I've never made it a secret that I am an epitomization of the word procrastinator. Maybe that detatchment from hectic schedules and constant working makes me unfit to pass judgment on the topic, but I'll try to anyway.

You see, too much homework is the excuse students have been making since the time of the ancient greeks (Mannion). I, in the practice of moderately successful procrastinators everywhere, am good at measuring time. Also, it helps that I do the majority of my "homework" in school anyway. So do I have too much, homework? No I do not. Also, please note that when I sayI can measure time well, I am not saying I use it well. If you can, doing that helps in spades.

Do other students my age have too much homework? Maybe. But they're probably trying to do more than me in the first place. Never saw the point of taking Trigonometry if I was going for psychology all along anyway... Perhaps my procrastinative nature isn't a bad thing all the time after all. As for whether or not there has been an increase in the amount of homework given...not in any of my classes, anyway. At any rate, I must thank the people who complained enough to make ths question possible. After a bit of thought (and actually approaching this assignment) this blog was easy bait. Maybe it's just because I secretly enjoy striking out at other people's ways of life from a platform whence I cannot be harmed. That was a joke. I like striking out at other people's ways of life in publice as well. That wasn't a joke... Okay, yes it was.

Anyway, after thinking about this particular essay a bit futher funnily enough, I found that I do, on occasion learn something from homework. Like that a little procrastination is a good thing. Occasionally in math I'll learn a useful (or frankly just cool) equation. The subtle nuances of my second language would be lost to me if it were not for those english grammar lessons we had to take from first grade on up. And I'm too interested in the human mind not to take interest in psycology. So sometimes, in these and other subjects, I'll take a look at my homework (when I do it), and I'll learn something...

As a special aside for those of you not in the know, a note on the big stuff. Projects, reports, essays. Do not leave these till the last minute. You're surprised again aren't you? These things are by their nature, important. I've found that it's a bad idea to sit around doing nothing while something important is happening. Get started early, invest some effort, and for the love of all the higher powers in the universe, dazzle a bit, would you? These things are a chance to impress, and in lieu of all that homework you procrastinated away it helps to use those chances...