The way things weren't

James Bond was a super spy. An agent of the British government undergoing tasks to "save the world" in the

name of England. A lofty, and often times fatal profession becomes mundain and basic for this man. He does this all the time. His skills of improvisation on escaping from scrapes and evil villians with death rays or plots for world domination become common place. He does what he does, and he seems to think it's normal. One man's treasure is another man's rubish.

This is what we, as a culture, have become. Obsessed with the actions of others. People fixed on wanting what

they don't have, and what they think they want. Living someone else's life. We watch movies and think that our lives should be that way. Watch "Pretty Woman" and wish we were a hooker who turned her life around and married a rich dude. Wouldn't that be magical? Just like in the movies.

Why am I so adametly against all this? Why is it that I've devoted time to writing this nominally lengthed piece

about this subject? Because these obessions lead to some serious problems. A few years ago, I knew this girl. She was from a famous city, and wanted very much to personify that city along with its fabulous people. She decided that the best way to reach that goal was to lie about who she was. All of a sudden she's met the singer of Weezer, had liver cancer, was a Bahai, her mother was a fashion designer on That 80's Show. Everything about her become this shroad of what was true and what was a construct. This is why I don't condone that behavior. At one point in my life I would have been best friends with her -- which is why, for a time, we were friends. I had a designer life. I changed things about myself to better boost who I wasn't without realizing that who I was was pretty all right.

That's all I have time to write. Stupid time constaints. Maybe more later. We'll see.