Do people really help people anymore? Do we flock to a fellow friend who is in need of a shoulder or do we turn the other cheek cause modern philosophy tells us that they are merely crying for attention? Hubris. Mundane. Paradox.

Stop to give a dollar or a meal to a stranger on the street. Rummage through your old clothes, and bring them to the Goodwill Center. Serve food on the holidays to the homeless people (who just so happen to be there on days that aren’t holidays too). Lend a hand to a broken down car on the street. Give a lift to a woman with three bags of groceries and a kid in her hand. But support a friend? Hopeless. Ideological. Contradiction.

When my friend is in pain, I am in pain. I want nothing more than to lift them off their feet and carry them to the next checkpoint. When they are thirsty for something they can’t find, I want nothing more than to provide a stream of water to quench them. When they are reaching for something they can’t touch with their own hands, I want to lift them up on my shoulders to provide the extra height. The Good Samaritan helped a stranger, but he could do both I would contend.

When a marriage ends, a straight couple breaks up, or a woman becomes a single mother; in any means, the child should be taken from the woman. After all, Christian activists contend that gays and lesbians should not have kids because a child needs both a mother and a father. So the same should apply to single parents. Because the child cannot have both a mother and a father, the child should be taken away and given to those who can provide the nuclear unit.

But the child would still be able to see his or her father, you say? Why then cannot the same argument be applied to a gay or lesbian family? Because you do not want it to? Because the family is gay or lesbian? What does that have to with anything? Once a family is split up, does that automatically make them bad homes?
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When people ask me if I am an optimist or a pessimist, I tell them quite simply that I am a realist. I dream for the best, but know that the worst might occur. I hate sappy romance movies because they never stay true to life, yet secretly I root for the happy ending. I want the fantasy to be a reality.

When I was younger, my mother would become so upset with me because I always had to have things as black and white–no room for gray. She used to tell me that things are not always black and white and that I had to accept that sometimes there is just gray. I never could. I still cannot. I tell people that in order to get gray, you must mix the black and the white. Sure, it applies to colors, but it can apply to life too. People only accept the gray because they do not want to accept the truth.
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