Aaaaalriiiiight!

Oh boy, oh boy. Today at Wing Chun I took a good hit to the teeth, and she was wearing a ring, too. Fine, though, I guess my tahn-sao was good enough.
Anyways, today in S.S., I said a bit about natural consequences. Well, I've been thinking about it. Since nature only sees our actions and not our intentions, where do our intentions come in to play? Even another person can not sense our intentions unless we reveal them, but that revelation is also an action, and what do we intend to do when we reveal our intentions?
When we boil it down, our intentions do often make themselves manifest in the manner in which we act. A man who feeds an animal because he loves the animal would pay careful attention to his distribution of the food, maybe even feeding it from his own hands. He would pet it, and talk to it, and give it a nice pat on the head as he leaves. A man who feeds an animal because he wants to eat it might scatter the food on the ground before it, showing no compassion for his future meal. He might even whistle a tune about the meal that animal is destined to become. This is mostly because animals are stupid.
We may be much more secretive or clever when it has to do with humans. All of us act differently depending on the people around us. If you're surrounded by adults, do you behave the same way you would if you were surrounded by children? Boys, if there are ladies present, would we compose ourselves the same way we do when it's just us guys? When Mr. Dye is in the classroom, do we act the same when he leaves for some reason?
Oh, let's see. NO.
Even if you're always the quiet one no matter who's around, don't you at least try to be impressive if you're alone with someone you like?
Yeah, that's what I thought.
So I return to my question: Why do our intentions matter? The answer largely depends on whether you're religious or not. If you believe in God, or Allah, or what you would call it, you must also believe that your god knows your thoughts and intentions. Personally I believe that those who mean well are more likely to make it into heaven than those who do good, but do good only intending to better their own situations.
Take Porter Rockwell, for instance. He was an awesome guy. He carried enough loaded weapons to fire hundreds upon hundreds of times without reloading, and carried enough extra ammunition to be able to fire those hundreds of shots again. He drank hard liquor, killed enemies and traitors of the Mormon church, and had his fair share of wives throughout his days. Wanna know something cool? Former and deceased president of the Church Joseph F. Smith answered a question that was a hot topic back in those days: Did Porter Rockwell achieve Celestial Glory? His answer was yes. He did indeed.
How does a guy get into the highest afterlife he believes there to be when he did all that stuff that we would now consider questionable? Well, it's because he did it with the intent to protect his church, and his friend, Joseph. He didn't do it to quench his thirst for liquor/blood/pleasurable company. Porter Rockwell killed people, and he was a good man.
So you see how our intentions are important. If you don't believe in a god, then believe in yourself. You know whether or not you're a good person. Everybody else knows whether or not you do good things. And believe me, when you hate yourself, when you think you're a bad person, bad things happen to you. (I won't delve further into that statement now, but remind me to address it on a later date.)

He spent a lot of time in France.

From posting a comment on Jack Anderson's blog, I was semi-inspired to publish another post. A short one.
Among our nation's great founders, Benjamin Franklin is often listed. Of course, he never became president, nor did he fight any wars, nor was he initially in favor of the constitution. But he's still featured on the $100 bill. Many quote him, saying such things as "Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise", or "A penny saved is a penny earned". I am a personal fan of his 8 hours proposition, which consisted of the fact that there are 24 hours given in a day, and essentially three categories to divide our time into: work, play, and sleep.
If you ask any adult if they only work for 8 hours a day, they will almost invariably say "no". This casts my hopes of a happy future aside, when I think about it. When I have children, I'll need that 8 hours of play-time to play with them, to establish a good relationship with them. Unfortunately, the way things are, and the way they're headed, I might not get to spend any time with my kids at all. They'll be raised by people who's job it is to take care of children, someone who's views on discipline I will most certainly disagree with.
And that's how it's going to be. Everything will be a job. Playing video games is already a job (for they require testing). Eventually, I bet it will be the childrens' job to play in playgrounds to create pleasant scenes for tourists or retired folk. That is to say the tourists who's job it is to tour countries and tell others about them, and the old people who's job it is to, essentially, sit around and create an air of equality and tranquility, not to mention the occasional cynical senility. It will be a baby's job to cry when it's hungry or lonely or needs a change. If it does not do its job, it will die.
Sleeping might become a job too. We will be required to sleep a certain number of hours each night, and failure to comply could result in severe punishment.
In school, it is sometimes my job to read a good book, or write a good story. The restrictions on how much I can read or what I can write causes me to lose interest in an otherwise worthwhile activity. Sorry, Mr. Dye, but that's kinda how I work.
That's all.

Slit his own mama's throat for a nickel.

Hey, everyone/whoever! RAAAAAOOOOOAAARRRRGH!!! You know how it is. Indeed, nothing frustrates me at the moment. I'd kill someone right now, though, if there was good money involved, as well as legal evasion. Pretty confident of that.
There was a brief time in my life where I decided that being an assassin was a good job for me. But after I thought about it alot (with the help of Grosse Point Blank), I decided that in order to be successful you would have to join an agency, and joining an agency entails that you lose a few freedoms you would otherwise have if you were independent. Joining an agency and then splitting from it to make your own business wouldn't work either; what kind of assassin are you if you have a reputation? If someone recognizes you, game over, right?
After convincing myself that electing not to be an assassin was simply a matter of business rather than morals, I changed my mind and decided that I wanted to be a bounty hunter. With my practical combination of parkour and kung fu, I could chase down and detain any criminal. I'd have no problems with it. Plus, my girlfriend's dad is a bounty hunter, so any additional training would come for free, with a bonus of knowing a guy who knows his stuff. Connections.
Unfortunately, just when I had started fantasizing about shooting people in the legs, my girlfriend's pseudo-maternal instincts kicked in, and that dream disappeared too. (If anybody finds a better way to put that, let me know. Maternal doesn't sound right when it's about her.)
Naturally, joining the armed forces is out of the question. The training is rigorous in the sense that it involves desensitization towards traumatic images or experiences. Losing my sensitivity means losing my self, my very being, and as great as this country is, I'm mine. I'd like to keep my self to myself, thank you very much. Please don't draft me.
I'm good at writing, how about I write? "Pfffff", Johnny Depp would say, recalling his role as Mort Rainey in Secret Window. Not a life I'd envy.
So finally I come to a multilemma. What should I be? What contributions will I make to this world? If anybody has any suggestions, you're welcome to confront me about them. Not that I'll take you seriously.