Operation: Coarse Wood

This message is classified SECRET. It is not to be shared with others outside of the organization.

As of 1901 hours, 20 October 2010, Operation: Coarse Wood is in effect.

We will now commence your debriefing of Operation: City Two. City Two was designed as a low-budget reconnaissance mission to gather intelligence on a target of high importance. These ends were to be achieved through any means considered necessary. Agents made contact with intermediaries who were "very close" with the target. The agents befriended the intermediaries as a way to get closer to the target, which succeeded. The intermediaries came to trust the agents quite well, and still believe in the connection of friendship with the agents. The target, despite her wary confidences, slowly began to divulge information of great use. Approximately seven weeks into the mission, the agents confronted the target when she was alone. The agents, through technicalities in protocol, established their intentions, and the target voiced her thoughts and reactions. They were negative. Three weeks later, in a more semi-public setting, the agents confronted the target again to be sure of the intended outcome, and at the insistence of one of the intermediaries. The results were the same: negative.
At approximately 1930 hours on 18 October 2010, High Command brought in a consultant on the issue, who gave guidance regarding the results of the mission. Command decided to scrub the mission.

Currently, the agents are being withdrawn from the field and being debriefed individually. With the initiation of Coarse Wood, the Special Agent-in-charge will confront the target before 30 October 2010, as the last of the agents are withdrawn. The Special Agent-in-charge will inform the target of the upcoming actions, and the Special Agent will sever ties with the intermediaries. Resources will be withdrawn and sent back into the General Fund, as controlled by the Office of Finances. Probes will be occasionally sent (no less than once per quarter, nor no more than four times per quarter) via tertiary channels inquiring about the target, as the information that she and her acquaintances (the intermediaries) holds might prove to be useful in subsequent missions, though this outcome is not likely.
The Special Agent-in-charge is not to maintain contact any longer than is necessary to inform the target, not exceeding any total length of time beyond one hour. The Special Agent may inform the intermediaries if he so desires, but this is also included in the one hour total time limit. The Special Agent is ordered to inform the primary intermediaries if and only if they inquire.
Retrieval squads are to be standing by for extraction of the Special Agent. The radio frequency on the CRM-114 is to be: OPE. The distress call for the Special Agent is "'Nevermore' quoth the raven." Live rounds are not to be used in the process of this operation.

As per operational protocol, complaints and requests are to be sent through the Office of Professional Management, Department of Human Resources.

This message is classified SECRET. It is not to be shared with others outside of the organization.

Silence

For those that wonder why I'm often silent when I'm around my friends, here is why:

There is a moderately attractive young lady in my Psychology course this term. Within the past day or two, I finally got around to sending a Facebook friend request, which she accepted. I asked her what her major was, and it lead into a short conversation that seemed tense. Perhaps it was the discussion on grades and classes, or just the arse-hole way that I tend to be when I talk to women. Either way, she rounds out the conversation by asking why I'm so interested in her education and her major. I respond with an honest answer, which is what I would assume most people would want: "I find you attractive and it makes me curious about you. I'll cease with the discourse on academia, if you'd prefer?"

If we had held the conversation face to face, I am sure that I would witness her not be able to run away quickly enough. This is typical for me, sadly. At the present moment, she is still listed as a friend on Facebook, but that might change.

I think back to friends and family that often tell me that I should "express myself" and "speak my mind." Well, dear friends, I have. Now, look at what became of it.

So, you ask why I am often quiet in the presence of others? It is because I fear the outcome of speaking my mind, driving people away. Instead, I stand in silence, calculating reasonable responses to enquires about my silence whilst attempting to figure out good, solid reasons as to why I like the girl in the first place.

(For added irony, "No Good Deed" from the Wicked soundtrack is playing as I type this.)

Beauty, Destruction, Perfection

I am about to break Tyler Durden's rules # 1 & 2. Fuck him.

For anyone that has seen the movie Fight Club, we all would recognize the line "I just felt like destroying something beautiful" after the Narrator beats the shit out of the blond guy.

This being said, finding the beauty in destruction is an easy task. Why else, for instance, would demolitions experts continue to stand around and watch their master work? It is a beautiful sight to see. Seeing the beauty in destruction is easy.

But I began to think in that dangerous mind frame of mine again. What is there to see if we change that phrase around? Can you see the destruction in beauty? Or, a possibly more important question, is there destruction in beauty?

I answer with a resounding YES! Assuming that all of my readers live in the States, or that most of my readers are from/have an understanding of a Western culture, we clearly see the overemphasis of beauty in marketing and adverts of all times. The only time that you will likely see an "ugly" person on your telivision is when a product makes someone "beautiful." Now, we have all been taught that "beauty" is in the eye of the beholder, and that "beauty" is a good thing, something to strive for. What we have never been taught, however, is the cost of "beauty." American marketing firms push and push to promote the idea that thin is beauty and that being thin is one of the ultimate goals in life for the female populous. But I urge you to look around. How many have you known that developed eating disorders in their attempts to fit in with this ridiculous notion of "beauty"?

This leans heavily on the idea of stereotypes, as well. Perhaps it is only the shows and commercials that I personally have seen, but I do not recall many black ladies as fitting "into the mold" of "beauty." Thus far, I recall strictly seeing the young white girl, or the light-skinned black girl, as the only ideal. Are not the black women just as pretty? The white supremacist have taken over the direction where our society's ideas go; it sickens me.

But it is not fair to merely limit the concept of "beauty" to the physical, that which is shown through some predetermined gene. We must also consider the behaviors of women. "Beautiful" women are never shown as being happy in life. They are always in some struggle to improve their social status... usually through equal rights. Go ahead and count the number of films that you have seen in the past six months that (paraphrased) include a line or a monologue that has the woman demand the man see her as an equal. But this contradicts the other stereotype that men have of women as either a) needing to be saved from some peril, or b) being weak which allows them to fall into the arms of a man to find love. Can we seriously expect that a woman who has sex with multiple partners will understand the concept of love and finally feel "beautiful" because she has screwed the "right guy"? Hardly.

This being said, I have nothing against others enjoying themselves and/or sleeping around. But to think that a woman being "easy" makes her "beautiful" to men sickens me.

What, then, is "beauty" if it cannot be defined through stereotypes and false advertisements? Is it not the girl on the sidelines who never has to go through the character flaws that we see in our heroes/heroines? Personally, I find the sidekick to be more attractive than the heroine that the movie or television show centers around. Granted, the sidekick does not quite have the depth that the heroine has, as we do not see the sidekick as much, nor do we know her back story. But perhaps it is this that redeems her? Since we only know what is directly revealed, we can be free to see the sidekick as beautiful because of this aura of mystery around her. Maybe that is what beauty truly is: the freedom of getting to know someone not based on their physicality but through their character traits like loyalty and humor. I would argue that is what makes a perfect girl. Not her outer "beauty," but her inner beauty.

Where is Home? What is Home?

This past weekend, my mother retrieved me from university to take me home. So, I went. It is the same house that I have resided in for the past thirteen years, with the same occupants. And yet, it was unsettling to realize that it did not feel like I was home. I had merely come back to my parents' house.

The Friday of this weekend, I went "home" to the junior college that I began my post-secondary studies at. For most of the time that I was there, I had always joked that it was my "home" because of how much time I spent there. I was almost surprised at how exactly like a real home it felt to go back to. Sure, I did not have a couch to crash on or a refrigerator to raid, but I had returned home to family. There is nothing quite like that feeling. ...At least, I have yet to run across it in my many years.

Part of what is unsettling about the incident to me is that I've only ever felt like that one time before. Years ago, I would delude myself into thinking that I held some sort of a relationship with an attractive young lady that I alluded to several times in most of my early posts. I cannot remember the name that I wrote for her, but I believe that she goes by "Torikabuto" at times. The point of it is that during the end of my secondary school career, I was allowed to spend a day with her. We ended up walking through a bit of the downtown area of the city where she lived, and her mother came to pick us up when we were finished. As we arrived back at Torikabuto's house (where I had parked my car), I felt an odd sense of peace wash over me as I approached the house.

It feels odd to remember such long-lost memories as that in the simple act of going back to my first college. ...Two places that I've every felt totally at ease...only one of which I may return to. It makes me question what makes us call "home" our home. Is it merely returning to a familiar house at some marked interval? Or perhaps it is not so much a specific location as it is spending time with those whose company we enjoy. The second option doesn't fit into many stereotypes about going "home," but I think that we can forgive that for the sake of argument.

I propose, at the very least, that it is a question that deserves some attention?