This was my about me on Facebook for awhile.

The concept of who “I am” baffles me. Aren’t we all playing a just playing a role whenever we’re around each other? I’m no different.

So, do I authentically like golf or do I like the perception of me I think playing golf gives me to others? When I play golf, am I actually just acting like the image I created of someone cool who plays golf based off watching Randolph Juno, Roy McAvoy and Tiger Woods?

I carry myself differently on the golf course than I do in class or in front of my mom. So which one is the real me or the true me?

I don’t think I can accurately make that determination. Even if I thought I could, I perceive things through my senses which are fallible. So that gets at a larger question; can I really know anything?

That’s not evening bringing up the possibility that I like golf ironically.

I’m pretty sure I didn’t answer the “spirit of this question” but I would rather risk sounding like a pretentious dick than write something that can’t really be accurate even if you’re one of the only people who read it.

By christopherlong729

Article I wrote for Vox Magazine (Columbia, Mo.) before edits

I’m writing for them. The editors have every right to change my article for their magazine. This is my forum and I’m going to put it up as I would have it. It would be illogical to have any animosity towards them.

Stinkpot. Yellow Mud. Red-eared slider. Ornate Box. River Cooter.

Urban Dictionary defines these words very differently than any herpetologist  worth a pound of turtle meat (about $24). But turtle experts, such as John Richards, know the names of turtle species when they see them.

And yes, the study of amphibians is actually called herpetology.

If an authentic Jurassic Park existed, turtles would walk next to Brontoraptors, Megalosauruses and Robert Muldoon. In fact, turtles roamed Pangea thousands of years before those dinosaurs. Clever girls.

There are a lot of reasons why turtles have survived for either 200 million or 5,700 years depending on how gullible you are and literally you take the Old Testament.

The life of an individual turtle can typically range from 100 to 150 years. Females can lay up to 32 eggs at a time. They eat pretty much anything, including rotting fish meat, algae and larva.

They’re good enough fishermen (fisherturtles?) to turn Al McClain green with envy. To fish, their tongue looks like a worm. Once a fish gets drawn in—snap—the turtle chomps down and chows down.

It would seem like Mother Nature has an ironic sense of humor.

Turtles and humans  

Jeff Briggler, a herpetologist with the Department of Conservation said unprovoked turtle attacks are rare. A turtle’s shell, not its bite, serves as the main defense against predators.

According to folklore, a turtle won’t let go of someone it bit until it hears a clap of thunder. Briggler said if you’re bit by a turtle put it on the floor of the nearest body of water. It’s more effective than a rain dance.

The hill folk would say Jason St. Clair needed a clap of thunder when he was fishing for largemouth bass at the Finger Lakes near Columbia 13 years ago.

He was in the water, next to an inflatable raft, and had put on SCUBA flippers to get around with less effort. A 25 pound snapping, about half the size of a garbage can lid, mistook one of his flipper for a late lunch and latched on.

His fishing buddies watched and shared a laugh at his expense from a nearby jon boat. St. Clair can laugh about the experience when the story’s retold by his friends, as it inevitably will. At the time he wasn’t nearly as jovial.

“I had to lean back to see what happened,” St. Clair said. “It scared the hell out of me.”

He said he was uninjured but threw flipper away and sold the raft.

Briggler said he’s heard stories about turtles biting through broom handles and fingers but doubts their authenticity. There’s a video on Richards website of a snapping turtle easily piercing a plastic water bottle. A turtle’s bite will like cause tissue damage Briggler said.

Turtle hunting

Briggler said turtles’ main predators are humans. Crows, ravens and foxes sometimes eat turtles also. The Conservation Department doesn’t record the number of turtles killed by non-commercial hunters.

Especially if you’re near Cape Girardeau don’t confuse an Alligator Snapping Turtle with a Common Snapping Turtle.

Look down at the turtle in question. If it’s eyes can be seen from above, there’s only one row of scales on its side and it has sharp bumps on its tail then put on some water. It’s time to make turtle soup.

If you don’t see the turtle’s eyes from above, there are two rows of scales and round bumps on its tail take a picture and put it on Instagram or something. Its unlawful to kill this rare species.

Hunters can kill Common Snapping Turtles for the same reasons hunters kill deer. Between July 1st and New Year’s Day it’s legal to kill five a day and possess ten, just don’t use a gun.

It’s not illegal but it’s probably not a good idea to tell your girlfriend you’re going to the Ozarks to look for River Cooters either.

By christopherlong729

My Intellectual Biography

It was nine at night. I still hadn’t left my bedroom; there was no point. I had no where to be.

I figured I’d just watch Youtube videos for another five hours, pass out and then do it again. I needed to smoke before I did any of that.

I blew smoke out of my mouth. I liked smoking. Lately, it seemed like the only thing I liked to do.

I thought I had failed out of graduate school. The only girl I ever cared about wasn’t interested in me. I had no job, not even a lead. How could this be part of The Plan? What was I supposed to learn from all this? I wondered how God wanted me to react to this and why he was testing me.

I had wondered this before. Spiritual and religious people told me the same thing—love yourself and everything else will fall into place.

My search to love myself had led me to search for some “Capital T Truth.” I had read any book about new age spirituality I could find. At this point I had read either three or four. It doesn’t really matter.

The latest book described the story of some normal guy (like me!) who saw ascended high masters. They told him how churches had bastardized the message of Jesus of Nazareth. I was on board.

In the book, these spiritual beings showed up one day to help the author “facilitate the disappearance of the universe.” It embarrasses me to admit it, but I read it as non-fiction. I actually thought someday, they’ll visit me too.

Of the seemingly limitless number of video related to this new idea of spirituality, one outspoken black preacher told me and the 3,913 people who watched his video before me the universe reveals itself to you when you’re ready for it.

I felt ready. I told God I was ready.

I wanted to see (the masters, the characters in the book) Arten and Pursah. I wanted to believe and I needed to know.

I remember closing my eyes, feeling open to the possibility those characters would be waiting for me in my bedroom when I opened them. I counted.

One. Two. Three.

They weren’t.

I was open to the possibility they were waiting for me downstairs. I walked down the stairs for the first time that day. My adrenaline was racing. Even in the moment, I think I realized the significance of what I was doing.

Soon, I’d have all the evidence I’d ever need. Would everything I had read about spirituality in the last four years be confirmed?

I hoped.

There was no one downstairs. I was alone.

So does that mean God doesn’t exist? I don’t pretend to know.

But I will not going to waste one more second of my life thinking about it. I call myself a born again logician and I love myself for it.