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I think the University of Utah’s mens basketball team is way over rated. Its current ranking of 14th and talk about Bogut being player of the year needs more justification. Sure they’ve won lots and lots of games, but who have they played? They have not beat a single top 50 team, in fact, in the two games they played against top 25 teams, they lost both. Sure they’ve won lots and lots of games, but who have they played? They have played lots of teams who will not be seeing the NCAA dance this year. I think they are too over rated based on the fact that they have had a weak strenght of schedule.

Perhaps people are just too excited about Utah’s success in football, and somehow think that carries over to basketball. They definately deserve to win the conference title, and they are good enough to be ranked, I’m just saying that you shouldn’t be picking Utah to go deep in your brackets this year, because once they start playing some quality east coast teams, they are going to crumble.

If you were slowly going crazy, would you want to know? Perhaps it is more peaceful to be ignorant about being crazy, then alert to the fact. For the sheer knowledge that one is progressively becoming crazy would be enough to actually drive the person crazy; perhaps a different type of crazy, but then the person is progressively becoming two types of crazy and knowing about it like a viewer from the observatory, silent with no way to interfer.

Thus I argue that if one were to progress toward crazy, it is better that he doth not know.

I also argue that it is better to be crazy and think it, than to think it and yet be sane. For the crazy person can be happy in his own domain, yet the sane person is worse off thinking he is crazy until he actually is, and frustrated the whole time over the matter.

Yet I beleive that the worst is in becoming crazy unknowingly, yet with suspicions. Because if the person knows his current state he at least has a chance to come to terms with it. But if the person only suspects that he becomes crazy, then he constantly questions his every action, suspicious of himself, and always dreading the future and the increased insanity it might possibly bring.

I conclude then that the person who only suspects that he grows crazy, will find his suspicisions correct, because he will become the very thing which he suspects, whether through self fulfilment, or through self doubt.

In my history of creativity class we have been discussing major artists, writers scientists, and creative persons from 1500 to about 1700. Many of them had some royal support in their endeavors. Either they were supported by the Catholic church, or by the monarchy of a nation.

It makes me think, what will happen today in our scientific and artistic endeavors with government spending cuts. Will our scientific and technological improvements be hindered ? Can private or public businesses support the artists and scientists that in previous eras were supported by goverment?

What will happen to society one we give up on our creativity?

So at work we are buying some new chairs for our office. I was told how much they cost. Somehow the chairs cost $480 each, with almost another $250 for order processing and delivery charges for the 4 chairs together (costs to BYU). So over $500 a chair seems a little steep. Even when they aren’t that great of chairs either.

I mean, what about the widows mite? Especially since at the last devotional we were given a talk about the sacred tithing funds that fund the University. What are we doing with it? Buying super expensive chairs. It seems kind of rediculous to me.

Will I find my love? I must ask thee, oh knowledge and all deity.
Wither I go to find her smile, oh this is my hearts desire.
I know know not the woman I seek,
but perhaps fate would bid her to speak.
My heart consumed, like paper to fire;
glowest bright, yet destroyed from the pains of this inquisition.

Oh woman of my desires,
tell me who thou art,
and from what land thou comest
or if thou art my neighbor.

Dreaming is my release,
when I almost see thee,
God bid me sleep a thousand years.

The thought of you, like tasting pure light.
Oh sweet taste lingers on my tongue,
with the gentle breeze of righteousness.
Yet how should I have this taste, which I know not?

Perhaps we’ve spoken, though not with voice.
Ordered letters made of light;
my fingers type, yet they would hold thine tight

My commitment to thee, would not be weefy,
strong and enduring, like literature itself.
The definity of words of love, they speak of thee,
oh, woman, wilt thou lovest me?