#11: Someone out there shares your name

At some point or another we've all Googled our own name to see what comes up. Unless you happen to be more famous than every other *Your Name Here,* what you probably found were your binomial counterparts, or people who share your first and last name. Who are these people? It's easy to laugh at them and say to yourself, "Ha, Ha, I'm glad I don't look like that," but they would say the same thing about you! Despite the fact that these binomial counterparts are complete random strangers, the more you look into their lives the more you feel connected to them, even proud in some cases. For example, good for you Andrew Dillon, Chief Executive of the National Institute for Health and Clinical Excellence. Way to make the rest of us proud, including Cornell Ph.D graduate Andrew Dillon, who specializes in Economic Development. And I salute you too Robin Williams look-alike Andrew Dillon, Associate Professor of Information Science and Informatics and Adjunct Associate Professor of Computer Science and Instructional Systems Technology at Indiana University. I bet you are smart. You might even find other things in common with these folks. For instance I go to Indiana University. Remarkable. For those of you who searched your name and found pornographers, felons, registered pedophiles, or no results at all, I am sorry. You had no control over the poor decisions of your counterparts, and neither is it your fault if the most powerful search engine on the web has no idea *You*, or anyone else named *You,* exists. So, it's 10.00pm, do you know who your binomial counterparts are? Check it out now @ http://www.google.com/

10,000 BC is a terrible, terrible movie

It's true. Despite the incredible amount of human and capital effort that went into this film, no one I've talked to has remotely enjoyed it. It was predictable, used stereotypical and inexperienced actors, and somehow failed to create a single suspenseful moment. It also seems director Roland Emmerich has copied several elements from Zack Snyder's 2006 blockbuster 300: (to name a few) it's epic, it's set in the past, there's a number in the title, the landscapes are fantastical, they were released the same time of year, the hero is against all odds, there's an oracle figure who's gross, some good men die, and the villainous, flamboyant demigod with suspiciously long fingernails is slain in the end with a heroic spear-toss in slow motion. In a way it's like comparing Star Trek to Star Wars. They're essentially the same but...one's just awful. At any rate, I ended up watching the last half-hour of this movie in fastforward. To my surprise this actually made the movie halfway entertaining, so I was less upset that I had paid $4.50 to rent a disappointment. Conclusion: Don't watch. If you have to watch, view as a comedy, or in fastforward. Life is too precious to waste your time watching dredlocked mountain-men getting chased around by prehistoric beasts.

#9: Everything is temporary

Whether it's a presidential term, the crispness of a potato chip, a sunset, a job, a road trip, a season, a broken bone, a class period, a dream, that mean case of poison ivy you had last year that you never thought would go away but finally did after two months, whatever. Everything and anything you can think of is temporary. You are. The sun is. This galaxy is. Life on Earth, or Earth itself even. We are all so temporarily fortunate to be temporarily alive on this temporarily revolving orb of experience, that we should temporarily put the brakes on everything for a second each day and truly make an honest effort to appreciate the small things.

Having just moved to New York City, I find that most people here seem to shield themselves from such thoughts. Perhaps they fear that with so much stimulus around them, so many people, and places, and things to look at, if they did really try to take it all in their cerebellum would fuse, their eyes would implode, and more importantly their precious time to live life before death would be wasted. In my opinion however, being a careful, conscious, and consistent observer of an environment (no matter how hectic it may be) is a much more worth-while use of our temporary existence here on Earth than frenzying about in a selfish, inconsiderate money-rush.

So saving to pay the mortgage is undeniably important, yes, I understand that. But is it so important that you'd cut somebody off at the elevator instead of holding the door for them (Mr. Businessman Whoeverthefyouarethatdidthattomeearlier)? When did our lives become so important that we no longer notice the fundamentals? Everyone on the subway seems half-dead, for example. Doesn't anyone realize anymore that each and every day we're racing in a tin-can bullet of madness, screeching and lurching with strangers through dirty city veins? Riding the subway is cool! Don't let the fear of germs, or the stressful day ahead of you, or tired eyes blind you from what's really around here: wonderment, Life, and temporary bliss.