Thursday, May 28, 2009

Stick that in your pipe and ponder it!

Has it ever occurred to you to wonder why human beings are such a strange breed of vegetable?

Some have ventured that the beasties are actually poultry, given that they're prone to frequent fits of frenzy and flights of only-ever fancy - and lose their heads over something as paltry as dinner.

In the same way that a grape isn't quite wine waiting to happen, I'm not yet convinced... but all the angry stomping about makes me mirthful nevertheless.

Here a vine, there a pod, but ne'er a swarm of locusts when you need one!

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

The game

"You don't know about society...; you don't have the satisfaction of avoiding it."

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Apocalypsssssse!


beginReality(humans, Earth, chances[0,0,0,0...], shit, screwed);

Ahhhh, tonight is one of those nights! Ya know what I'm talkin' about? Hah! YEAH, you do!

It's one of those nights where I'm experiencing an uncontrollable urge to plug into Unreal Tournament and crank up some KMFDM, Manson, Ayria, Lullacry, Kittie and Zombie Girl and just blow some sh*t the f*ck up! (People get mad when I blow things up in the real world. Idiots! They always fail to grasp the point!)

True art is practically a lost art nowadays.

Mass media is ass-backwards, folks! (The open-eyed among you already know that, but I feel compelled to reiterate reality at every opportunity, just to be thorough.) In a world overrun by carnal appetites who've evolved the ability to perambulate and combine fact+imagination to rationalize ANYTHING, the few still-sane survivors among us should all be taking up arms and putting the rest out of their misery.

If you've ever wondered why war--over the last few thousand years--has been steadily reinforcing an ideal position from which to consume our entire planet, (even though it all flies in the faces of so-called "reason," our own survival, and even sunshine and rainbows), this is it! Humanity has decayed to the point of objective hilarity, far beyond even the relative glimmer of despair --

-- and OH MY FREAKING GOD!!, sometimes it's just all I can do to not go clock-tower-massacre on an apocalyptic scale!

Of course our social and personal proclivities have progressively become more and more violent with each generation! If they weren't, our children would all be out of their f*cking minds and recreating Columbine by the time they hit 4th grade! Where else do you think all of that self-loathing is going to end up? People may be stupid--and good lord, every time I think I've seen it all, some complete backbirth manages to surprise me--but no human being is capable of true ignorance in the face of unavoidable truth. And the truth, you bozos, is that every fucked-up person knows, KNOWS, exactly how fucked-up s/he is - and now that that comprehension has been thoroughly suppressed for thousands of years by every social engine driving our lives, the pressure has finally begun to become too much. Eventually, people reach a breaking point at which the force of clarity overwhelms the force of stigma-inspired inanity... and then stuff like Columbine happens, (which then, ironically, gets turned into merely another device to repress the greater social truth intrinsic in its occurrence!)

And speaking of that incident: I literally LOL'd when I read the news reports trying to establish a positive correlation between violent video games and the shootings; maybe if those kids had played *more* Doom, they wouldn't have given in to their--brilliant--instincts to do something about their local pollution problem. Err, I mean, kill all those poor students.

How f'ing backwards will our society have to become as a whole before we turn completely inside-out and get thrown in the dirty laundry bin of the Universe? I don't know - but I know we've gotta be getting really damned close!

So, masses! While you're hooking up to your fantasy-sustaining alcohol I.V.s; going through the mundane motions of eating, excreting, fucking, sometimes combining all three and using those simple--meaningless--functions to justify your existence; denying everything and denying your denial; you should sleep lightly - 'cause the only reason you're still alive is because somebody--somewhere--has decided to let you live. And I'm one of them!

function endReality()
{
objectivity_on = false;
sanity_on = false;

detachment_on = true;
music_on = true;
digital_slaughter_on = true;
}

Saturday, April 25, 2009

"Dogma"

"Dogma" - KMFDM


All we want is a headrush;
All we want is to get out of our skin for awhile.
We have nothing to lose because we don't have anything...
... anything we want, anyway.

We used to hate people;
Now we just make fun of them -
It's more effective that way.

We don't live; we just scratch on day to day,
With nothing but matchbooks and sarcasm in our pockets,
And all we're waiting for is for something worth waiting for.

Let's admit America gets the celebrities we deserve;
Let's stop saying "Don't quote me,"
Because if no one quotes you, you probably haven't said a thing worth saying!

Sex, drugs, god, cash;
Sex, drugs, god... America!

We need something to kill the pain of all that nothing inside!

Sex, drugs, god, cash;
Sex, drugs, god... America!

We all just want to die, a little bit...

We fear that pop culture is the only kind of culture we're ever gonna have;
We want to stop reading magazines,
Stop watching TV,
Stop caring about Hollywood -
But we're addicted to the things we hate.

We don't run Washington -
And no one really does;
Ask not what you can do for your country...
Ask what your country did to you!

Sex, drugs, god, cash;
Sex, drugs, god... America!


The only reason you're still alive is because someone has decided to let you live!

Sex, drugs, god, cash;
Sex, drugs, god... America!


We owe so much money we're not "broke" -
We're broken!
We're so poor we can't even pay attention!

So what do you want?
You want to be famous, and rich, and happy,
But you're terrified you have nothing to offer this world?
Nothing to say, and no way to say it?
-- But you can say it in three languages?

You are more than the sum of what you consume!
Desire is not an occupation!
You are alternately thrilled and desperate:
Sky-high and fucked!

Let's stop praying for someone to save us and start saving ourselves;
Let's stop this and start over.

Let's go out -
Let's keep going.

Sex, drugs, god, cash;
Sex, drugs, god... America!

This is your life -
This is your fucking life!

Sex, drugs, god, cash;
Sex, drugs, god... America!


You need something to kill the pain of all that nothing inside...

Sex, drugs, god, cash;
Sex, drugs, god... America!

Someone's writing down your mistakes...
Someone's documenting your downfall...



Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Snowball storytelling

There once was a man from Ferndale... he was a strange, wicked little man, with aspirations of world domination - but shy.
One fine evening in the summer of '02, he was struck by a craving for gourmet pizza pie!
But alas, his craving occurred at a most unfortunate time: 3:18 AM.
— And, tragically, the last pizza joint had closed at 3:17.
So he grabbed his Swiss army knife, and set out to find him some pizza! ... by FORCE!
The first topping he encountered was a gnarled old woman in a shopping cart.
"Yes, she'll make lovely pepperoni!" he thought.
So he chopped her up into delicate little circles and stuffed them in a plastic grocery bag.
(Handy things, those. He has lots).
The next topping he encountered was a beastly giant squirrel!
Ebon of hair and ghastly of stare, the thing tried to fight...
... but lost, sorely! With a few slashes, a poke, a grunt and a drop of sweat, the critter became his sausage bits. Into the bag!
Next on his list to find were vegetables... so onward he trekked, to the local bar and grill - it was a popular biker hangout, and everyone knows that bikers are FANTASTIC vegetables.
Stalking around the corner of the building, he saw a perfect specimen!
With a huff and a puff, he blew the line of choppers onto their unsuspecting owners, and before they could react, he attacked!
Suddenly, Iron Maiden appeared out of thin air and began playing a great battle hymn worthy of his pursuit. On he charged!
In a mere matter of seconds, a score of bloodied bikers brayed helplessly as our hungry hero carved this vegetable and that: onions, bell peppers, fresh artichokes and more from the hides of the hideous little biker boors - until he could carry no more.
Then, satisfied with his haul, he turned 'round and spied a fresh fruit taking a smoke break, just leaning against the wall...
— With a flourish, and a crash of guitar, he leaped to a crouch and lashed out with his gauche and scored him a fresh tomato! Just like that! Wahoo!
Ingredients complete, our hero hopped to his feet and returned to his humble abode with his treat.

One hour later, his pizza was done, his belly was full, and his tongue was recovering from all of the fun - and he said to himself,
"Now, I think I could use some pork buns!"

.... and so the story ends.

— FOR NOW.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

How many times can you make a different mistake with the same outcome as the last?!

I've been really frustrated this past couple of months. At myself, for once. Where do I start?

A couple of years ago, I briefly dated a girl who I thought was pretty freakin' awesome. She's super smart, super cute, and she's a complete cuddle-fiend. She's just a generally positive person, and every time I touched her I could feel those happy emanations from her like they were heat. Pretty much, she had most of the essential qualities I wanted in somebody I could share my life with. I always associate the color green with her; let's call this magical lady "Emerald."

We broke up under uncertain circumstances after only a couple of months together; I wasn't sure what was really going on with her when she ended things--I could tell there was more on her mind than the little she shared with me at that point--but before dating her I'd been in about the worst relationship ever - and I had vowed when it ended that I wasn't going to go out on a limb for anyone anymore. I'm normally the glue that holds my relationships together. I'd had enough. (Solo glue doesn't get much love from the junk it keeps from falling apart, it seems. I know this now). When Emerald broke up with me, it just happened to be at the one point in my life where I just said... "Okay. Whatever," and let it run its course. I had plenty of other things going on in my life, so I didn't have a lot of time to think about it - which was both good and bad, in retrospect. If I'd tried, I could've probably worked things out with her. But... I didn't. Anyway, on we go.

Shortly thereafter, I started dating somebody else (no, I'm not a serial dater; it was just chance) that I actually grew to love very, very much. We'll call this girl... oh, hell, she'll never see this: her name was Meagan. She was a very different person than Emerald, but no less special. She really wasn't the kind of girl I'd normally date - certainly not what I'd always considered to be "my type," if there is such a thing. She was a lot more... normal. More girly, but also a tomboy, and she had a huge heart for me and her then 3 year old son, Logan. Great kid, great mother, though her and I clashed on quite a lot; despite that, after a year with her there wasn't a doubt in my mind that this was somebody I wanted to start a family with, and somebody I could easily be with forever. She was capable--albeit very reluctant--of communicating with me at a level that allowed us to work through whatever differences came up. We usually had discussions, not fights - and finished with understanding, rather than compromise. It all seemed perfect. That's what I thought, anyway - turns out I was wrong.

Not long after I began the quest to find Meagan the perfect engagement ring, she started a new job, and then a couple weeks later stopped talking to me - just completely shut down. It was March, 2008. I knew the first day that something was wrong, but nothing I could do would get her to open up to me about it. A couple of days after those first signs of trouble, we stopped having sex; we stopped touching; we stopped being intimate in any way. She'd become completely cold. She said she needed space, and she'd work out what was bothering her on her own, and that she just needed me to give her some time. A couple weeks after that, I started sleeping on the couch - and she never did work it out. I never found out what was going on, and now a year and change later I still don't know. I've never been the clueless boyfriend, but for once I honestly haven't the faintest idea what happened that time. We don't talk anymore, so I'm sure I probably never will. I miss Logan, and I wish she would've let me help just for his sake, even. I worry about him a lot, but that's a whole 'nother thing I won't get into right now.

Meagan and I tried to make the roommates arrangement work for both of us, but after a few months I ended up moving out. There was too much memory for me, and not enough space for her new friends and new things that came after me. Every day I dreaded the possibility that she'd bring some other guy home, and I'd have one more unsolved mystery to add to the already unmanageable list attached to her name. I got out before that could happen.

So a few years after our initial romp, Emerald is a bit more grown up, I'm all grown up, and the playing field is a bit more level between us - though I haven't thought about it yet. I have my own place, have found my own happiness, and only think about Meagan and Logan maybe 2 or 3 times a week. Things are looking up. Progress, right?

During the course of trying to figure out why Meagan didn't work out, (another daily routine at the time, though more habitual than necessary by that point), I got to thinking about her qualities and shortcomings which might have contributed to the mystery, and in a roundabout way it led me to thinking about Emerald. I'm not completely sure why, but she popped into my head one day: a random and pleasant memory--though equally as confusing as Meagan--on a train of thought that was otherwise pretty bleak and depressing. I always remembered her very fondly, as I'd become very attached while we were together - even though it was a fairly short time we'd had back then. Our differences had certainly been exaggerated by different maturity levels in various aspects of life, but it was one of the "good" times of my life. If I hadn't had so much going on when Emerald and I first broke up, it would've been her stuck in the endless loop in my head every day for months, for sure.

Then, suddenly, it was January of this year, 2009; and I was thinking about her again. I found myself wondering if she would've ended up doing the same thing to me as Meagan had, and I knew as soon as I thought it that she wouldn't have. It made me really miss her. A lot. And it made me wonder if maybe hers was a relationship that was still salvageable. If I've learned anything from the last 2 years of my life, it's that truly precious things and people are rare, and even more rarely last as long as you hope they will. So I looked her up. I wasn't about to let another opportunity float by without at least reaching for it first.

Emerald and I hadn't parted on the best of terms due to me just letting the whole thing slide on its own, and I had a lot of explaining to do - but I did it. I'd had a lot of time to think about my reasons for not pursuing the relationship with her more aggressively, and for not fighting to keep it alive when it started to falter. I know myself a lot better now than I did even as the very mature young adult that I had been the last time we'd seen each other. Her reaction was understandably hostile and skeptical at first; why hadn't I said any of this earlier, before or just after we'd broken up?; why now? Valid questions, all - and fortunately for me, I knew the answers to all of them, and I answered truthfully. And, impressively, she listened.

We began speaking again, then, and somehow connected in the same way we had before; we just sort of picked up where we'd left off 2 years prior, and it felt really good - like taking care of some extremely important unfinished business.
And then I completely screwed it up. Yeah.

See, I'm normally a pretty happy guy; I'm a realist, and I see life and its contents for what they really are. However, I'm also an absolutely insatiable dreamer. Potential is everywhere; it's usually tough to get me down, and usually tougher to keep me down. What I didn't really realize--and what I'm still realizing--is how cynical and jaded my experience with Meagan has encouraged me to be. I range between two polar opposites in my approach to life: seeing the potential and celebrating every step made toward it, or seeing that potential and loathing people for their apathy towards it. Obviously it hurt me a lot to end such a significant chapter of my life on that kind of a down note, so I wouldn't expect to be completely over that residual cynicism for quite awhile (if ever), but by the time Emerald and I started talking again, I really thought I'd at least gotten it under control.
Well... I was wrong.

I still have these bursts of negativity whenever I think about Meagan which outright pollute whatever else is going on at the moment; to make matters worse, my new roommate and I had a huge falling out about the same time Emerald and I got back in touch, which has been/still is causing me a boat load of additional stress. Still, I'm a survivor; I'm the one who copes and gets through it. I don't make excuses. Usually.

So Emerald and I jump right back into our old relationship in this new environment, and I'm too excited about it to really stop and think about the fact that I probably wasn't ready to get in that deep quite so soon. As it turns out, I should've figured that out beforehand. My baggage was too much; it started to affect her right away despite my best efforts to keep it in hiding, and it ended up ruining things between us even more quickly than the last time 2 years ago! Grr!

I'm just pissed at myself! I hate hurting people, and I hate that doing so accidentally--or negligently, as is more probably the case here--has taken away all of the credibility I worked to create after not fighting for her years ago when it might've mattered. Now, as willing as I am to do whatever it takes, it doesn't matter, because the damage is already done! I'm really not a stupid person - not even for a guy, and I'm trying to tell myself that my track record is virtually spotless in comparison to the average joe, but I can't shake the realization that my recent poor moods have combined with the past's poor circumstances to culminate in a total loss. Emerald is a great girl - WAS a great girl; now, due to my own lack of foresight, I blew it, lost her, and for once it's my own damn fault!

Fuck!

This is not the kind of irony I enjoy.

I'm sorry, Emerald.

Lesson learned.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Arseholes!

... they killed Kutner! SON OF A BITCH!


That is all.

Friday, April 10, 2009

The secrets of life.

Here you go, folks. This is the comprehensive meaning of life...

... really. It is. So read it, learn it, and get started.

---------------------------------------------------

The perception of "arrogance" in others is most often generated by the failure to recognize ignorance in--and/or of--one's own self. Rather than become a focus for your frustration, these reflections of your own shortcomings should be cause for striving to achieve a higher state of enlightenment.

We are imperfect creatures by nature - but we have evolved to the point that we each possess the ability to correct our own imperfections and, in fact, exceed all preconceived notions of our own limitations.

We have infinite potential, limited only by our choices to either exercise our imaginations and reason, or let them stagnate.

However, given the fact that all humans now exist--to varying degrees--as social entities within a larger unifying construct, all members are affected by all other members. To allow one's personal development to remain neutral, or even decay, is to force such neutrality or decay upon all other members of the collective. To not invest completely in one's own enlightenment as the most fundamental and important matter of each moment of life is to weigh down the continued evolution and progression of the human race.

Every instant of denial constitutes an injustice against every living thing.

Every individual's moments of ungoverned weakness each bring us all one step closer to extinction.

Ignorance is never a worthy excuse.

Failure is necessary; failure to try is criminal.

Apathy is the ultimate transgression against oneself, as it is against all others.



Failure will bring about the death of our past, present, and future...
...but our gift as human beings is the singular ability to truly govern inevitability.



-- and almost none of us use it.

---------------------------------------------------

As a great artist sang:

"Thinking hurts and thoughts don't rhyme
To those of us who've never tried
To find a face behind our lipstick smiles;
And as our pretty faces die,
Our broken hearts will wonder why
The makeup just won't hide the scars of time."

Monday, April 6, 2009

Word of the day

And the word of the day is...

lamesauce



Sunday, April 5, 2009

Interpretive Audio Journal: "No time to..."



B R E A T H E



More than just boredom

I'm perpetually alternating between feeling that I'm wasting my life, and feeling that there's nothing truly constructive I could be doing anyway.

I'm capable of succeeding--no, excelling--at anything I put my mind to doing. I'm good at everything. Concepts I don't already have a firm grasp of are second-nature to learn. I can't remember the last time I was challenged by anything except my patience.

You'd think this would make the world my oyster. I'm supposed to be the special prodigy whose options are unlimited, who has infinite potential and who only wants for something until he decides he actually wants it. People who know me tell me I'm "destined" to be a pillar for something greater in life, and that seems to make sense.

My brain is constantly occupied with those great thoughts of what needs to be done versus what's actually going on, on a social and often global scale. I understand the reasons governing why any given event occurs, and I see what's coming next. Everything is so simple to me that I honestly wonder how it's even possible that our world can often be such a terrible place to be a human being.

I refuse to believe that nobody else truly understands. Everybody else just lives in denial - and the responsibility for their INactions falls on the shoulders of people like myself--are there others like me?--who not only know better but realize that the balance must be maintained no matter how much sacrifice it requires. So I give and I give and I give EVERYTHING, expecting nothing back - but knowing that I don't really have a choice in that regard, anyway. Why? Are all the people I help in the course of my life going to suddenly have an epiphany someday and realize how much of a drain they are on society, on the people who love them, the people they pretend to love back? How exactly am I changing the world, here? I see everything, sure - but I don't see it.

Every day I wake up feeling absolutely flattened by the weight of this responsibility; I feel like if I were in "charge" of everything, I could fix it all. I know I could... it's really not just a feeling. But I don't want to be in charge! Just being in charge of MYSELF is difficult enough that the majority of other people in the same situation just pretend that no such maintenance is necessary! And the fraction of my energy that I have left for myself just keeps shrinking as time goes on; it's long past the point where I feel like the most significant aspects of who I am remain woven into the lives of people I've cared about in the past. I don't feel like I have anything left. I don't know why I get up in the morning. I don't know what to do with myself and even if I did, I wouldn't know HOW to do so.

I've never just been "me" before. I've always been "me the boyfriend/brother/son/friend/whatever" - and I don't resent any of that; I wouldn't give up any of that for anything, because I know that those efforts DO matter in the lives of certain individuals. But I can't shake the constant feeling that there's just not enough left of "just me" to constitute anything tangible anymore. I feel like a vast nexus of broken links to people and places and feelings and memories, and I have no idea how to escape that identity or function outside of it. I'm really not confident that there IS anything beyond it anymore.

I want the world and my friends and my family and everything else to fix themselves, just like I have always fixed myself. I'm tired of being the go-to guy for everyone else's answers time and time again, even though I tell myself I'm making some kind of positive difference by making myself available for that purpose. I just don't feel it. For as long as I can remember, I've always felt like I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders out of sheer necessity - picking up the slack for everyone else because I know nobody else will. And somebody HAS to do it! As proud as I am of the good things I know I've done, I feel like I have absolutely nothing to show for it.

I can't relate to anybody anymore, if I ever even could. I'm not sure I have any concept of true "self" left. Whenever I manage to come up with something I could do to occupy myself other than picking up somebody else's pieces, it takes me the space of a minute or two to follow that something's train of thought to completion; I see myself doing it, the possible immediate results, each result's progressively more distant repercussions, and I see that none of it means a damn thing.

Is there supposed to be a point to life? Does *ANY* of it mean a damn thing? What the hell am I doing here...

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Interpretive Audio Journal: "Pause for reflection..."




As time stops.



Rendered




I trip into
Another time,
Into a place where you used to be mine;

This hollow soul
Has gone astray,
Waiting for another rainy day;

Trick-or-treat,
It tastes so sweet!
I want it all,
But I get defeat...

I feign my spiritual suicide,
Destroyed by what I put inside!

-----------------------------------------------------
Would you take my heart?
Would you take my soul?
Well, I'm giving you everything,
When I give you control!
-----------------------------------------------------

I denied you,
When I fell:
I sold my soul for a life in hell...

And though I ran,
So far away,
Now I'm back, and I'm here to stay;


Now I lay me
Down to sleep;
I pray the lord my soul to keep...

I'm tearing down the walls within -
- And giving you my heart again!

-----------------------------------------------------
Would you take my heart?
Would you take my soul?
Well, I'm giving you everything,
When I give you control!
-----------------------------------------------------

(Trick-or-treat,
It tastes so sweet!
I want it all,
But I get defeat...

I feign my spiritual suicide,
Destroyed by what I put inside!)

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Rough sex

So I was talking with a friend today, and she asked me if I liked rough sex (yes, there was a perfectly good explanation for the existence of that context, no worries), and I answered, "90% no, 10% yes."

Which is 100% true.
It bores the fuck out of me.

But I hadn't really thought about it beyond that, and I suppose I probably should - seeing as how I am the guy who refuses to do, be, say, or in any way acknowledge anything unless it makes perfect logical sense. Yes, I know every girl is hard-wired to crave rough sex like monkeys crave bananas - and no, that allegory wasn't coincidental AT ALL. And, of course, I'm hard wired just the same way. That leads me to number 1 on my list of reasons I don't like rough sex:

1) FUCK my hard-wiring. I'm better than that. My body is the only thing determined by my genes; front end behavior is 110% choice. Giving in to natural impulses is... of course, totally natural. It's also completely fruitless, contributes to absolutely nothing at best, and outright prevents progress at worst - as proven by a few thousand years of human social history. And worst tends to be the norm.

2) Meaningless. Really rough sex really should best be described as "banging," because it so perfectly represents what is essentially a random, undirected cacophony of two objects chaotically thrashing each other with nothing but brute-force. How the hell can that be anything but boring to anybody? You might as well just go at it with toys or your hand; once you stoop to the level of simply having sex to achieve orgasm, it really doesn't matter whether you're doing it with somebody else, with a machine or with a doorknob for all I care - it's just a simple mechanical act from start to finish intended to culminate in exactly one result: spurt spurt, quiver quiver. No meaning, no significance, no value; at that point, your "partner" really is just an object - and so are you.

3) Boring. Once again, there is nothing special about chaos; you know exactly how this is going to end, so why ever do it more than once? Are you really so addicted to the fleeting hormone high and skin flush that you'd trade your potential for a meaningful exchange between two unique people for a simple act of mutual hedonism that could be done with anybody at all? That's not fun; that's called social dysfunction. You should probably see your therapist. While you do that, I'll be having genuinely therapeutic sex.

4) Too much work. Guys aren't constructed like women. We're predisposed to blowing our loads after 30 seconds, and anything you ladies get beyond that is sheer charity on the part of your guy, assuming he works out and is actually capable of control, that is. I can last as long as I'd like while having sex, and it doesn't require anything more than a 3 second position change every fifteen minutes or so. 2000 thrusts per minute requires actual concentration - and who are we kidding? Ladies get to sit back and enjoy the ride; that's really beside the point, but the simple fact is that sex is supposed to be 100% enjoyable for both people involved. So I'm going to take it easy and savor the experience.

For those of you poor ladies who have trained yourself to be unable to get off without your motorized toys or a guy willing to imitate one by 'roughing you up all night long'... I seriously feel bad for you; you choose what you enjoy, and if you chose the only nonsensical option out of the giant book of perfectly reasonable other ones, it's going to backfire on you. You're going to run into a roadblock in your late 30s or 40s where you suddenly realize that the guys your age have figured out that they don't have to go out of their ways to entertain you, and might actually resent you for expecting it - and then you end up one of those nasty ladies going after guys half your age because you can't get your dysfunctions satisfied by guys more mature than you. Sucks pretty hardcore, don't it?
-- just the way you like it.

But I'm not the least bit jaded about being the only sane person in a world full of cuntomatons.

Not one bit.

Nor am I even slightly offended that it seems impossible to find a decent woman who hasn't learned her concept of sex either from watching porn or from long couch sessions with "Dr. Jackrabbit XIVI model no.6000-2."

- or from "romance" (read: porn, duh?) novels... don't even get me fucking started on that crap.

(As if women weren't high maintenance enough? All I can contribute anymore is an unenthusiastic "wtf" for the sake of principle). At least my being "high maintenance" makes the world a better place.

Am I just trying to find worthy women in the wrong country, or what? I'm intimately familiar with all the various typical sexual dysfunctions of American women, obviously - but is it really just American women? Or is that just wishful thinking on my part?

Some lovely woman from another country needs to weigh in on this, please.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Gooood song.


If we smile we can all be the same!

Let's pretend that we're all okay:
Happy numbers in a bullshit world...
Got a gun? Follow me!
-- We can make it all better!


(... aaaand fade into rockin' the f*ck out!)

I'm a TARD!

Alright, people. Here's the scoop. I definitely just pulled a gray-matter-muscle with the following intellectual overkill...

I walked into the kitchen in search of something to satiate my stomach's sensations of starvation. Behold! The pot of tortellini alfredo I concocted last night beckons banally; I never could resist the pasty perfection of pasta, and ME WANT SOMES!!

So opens the silverware drawer, I - and looks in to find me a fork, aye - and spies I with my little eye--aye!--that my roommate took the last god-damned one and probably used it to shovel some rancid-ass cheese-covered cacophony of culinary carnage into her gaping maw and then tossed it somewhere where I'll never find it 'cause she's evil and crazy and sloppy and lazy instead of washing it and putting it away as would a normal person who doesn't hate me and isn't out of her bass-ackward crack-smokin' little rat mind, and the only other freaking fork to be found is sitting in the sink, in another one of her week-old messes.

So I think to myself, "Hrmm... maybe I'll skip the pasta and go for something I don't need a fork to eat." (EDIT: More accurately, I was thinking I was going to brain myself if I had to wash one more of MY f*cking dishes that SHE had dirtied and left to rot for days.)

...So, without another thought, I made scrambled eggs.

=D

Friday, March 20, 2009

Venus

Circa mea pectora
Multa sunt suspiria
De tua pulchritudine
Que me ledunt misere.

(Iam amore virginali totus ardeo)

Amor volat undique
Captus est libidine.

Iam amore virginali totus ardeo.
Circa mea pectora multa sunt suspiria
De tua pulchritudine, que me ledunt misere.
Tui lucent oculi sicut solis radij,
Sicut splendor fulguris, qui lucem donat tenebris.

My measuring stick

To laugh often and much;
To win the respect of intelligent people and affection of children;
To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;
To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;
To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition;
To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived:

This is to have succeeded.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Stuck

Sometimes the simple fact of rain can be so oppressing. I'm not normally affected by the weather in the same way many people in this area are; I like the rain. It's earthy, natural, a reminder that something beautiful still exists, functions, hasn't been completely broken - I like watching rain, usually. I love listening to it. Except today. Today, I really needed to get out of here for awhile. I wanted to just pick a direction and start walking, but I couldn't. Today, the rain was overwhelming.

I still feel like I need to get out; I've got that rising, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that I know is a warning to change my train of thought, move on, get going anywhere as long as it's somewhere other than where I am right now. Walking helps, though I don't understand how or why, and I don't really think I want to. I'm beginning to accept the possibility that there may be some things in my life I need to refuse to understand, even when I know it's not beyond me - maybe especially when I know it's not.

The rain has its own voice today, and I can't help but be distracted by it; it's not enough of a distraction - just enough to take the sharpest edge off, I think. Just enough to move the front of my mind a few degrees to the left or right. I'm tempted to hit a bar for the first time in my life tonight, to see about the rest of it. Of course, I'm sure can't afford it, but I'm also sure I don't really care about that right now, or ever. Bones, sinking like stones - all that we've fought for; homes, places we've grown - all of us are done for.

I hate days like this; every sensation seems amplified to the point of pain, no matter how innocuous--or even pleasant--it should be. I know it's the analogy, the imagery, holding a captive audience in the back of my mind just beyond my reach. I know that every otherwise dissenting member is paralyzed in rapture, listening to that disembodied voice sparkle on about realities, possibilities, facts, unavoidable things, accidents, mistakes and ends of beginnings alike - preaching with every fiber of its false little soul to save something, anything it can attach itself to and live to hurt another day. Anything to avoid the inevitable, and it always wins. It always trickles its message just beneath my awareness, and I hate it.

We live in a beautiful world... don't we? Yeah we do, yeah we do.

I don't know why, anymore. But it never lies, and I have to count on something, sometimes. I hate it.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Evil Gorilla


I think this is supposed to be cute...


But I'm scared out of my freakin' mind! The wee beast looks like it's halfway into an evil grin, preparing to point its evil finger of... EVILNESS!... just off-camera - presumably to evoke a swarm of flesh-eating locusts to rip into the pediatric ward, or maybe summon disease-ridden frogs, crows with glowing red eyes and frothing fresh blood at their mouths, or some such similar satanic goodness.

It makes me smile...

But only a little bit! And only when I look away from the eyes... those EYES!!!

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Dear Mini,

Sometimes, I have to actually force myself to think about things or people other than you, you know. At any given moment, the likelihood you're swimming around my thoughts--and did you know you're a fan of skinny dipping?--is seldom anything less than absolutely certain. I can't say I wish it weren't true; my memories of our limited past are more valuable to me than anything else I possess... but it is difficult to deal with, sometimes. I know, I can beat myself up as much as I want about never having truly reached out for you, and it won't ever change our present circumstances.
I miss you all the time. And I think I miss the unbelievable possibility you represent(ed?); I guess it doesn't make much sense, but I miss what we never had. Intensely. Even if I could never have really had you the way I want you--no matter what initiative I did or didn't have--I often find myself wishing for an earlier time when I simply didn't realize the void your absence would create. You've always been an inspiration to me. You've always been an outlet for--and a prime source of--my deepest and most sincere passions. Though we keep in touch and share a certain distant intimacy, I feel that distance like a painful phantom limb growing from the most intimate, innermost and vulnerable aspect of my hope - and as time goes on, it just keeps growing, and aching.
I wish I had more of you; I really wish I could see and feel and know you in that way which seems so fundamentally necessary to me. There came a point, a long time ago, when the only natural course of action remaining was to DO, and I feel robbed of that chance - even if by myself. Sometimes I really don't know what to do anymore.

Monday, February 23, 2009

My "junk"

I'm feelin' naughty.

My Junk.

Ooooooh!

Interpretive Audio Journal: "Temporary Inverse-Catharsis"


Temporary inverse-catharsis

From: "Without You Near (Gabriel & Dresden Remix)"
Markus Schultz w/Departure

Interpretive Audio Journal: "Dancing Stars"



dance

From: "L'Apres Midi" (Amelie Soundtrack)
Composed by Yann Tiersen

Life is like a trip to the grocery store...

And people are sort of like beef sticks.

Most of em are just plain old meat, and need some serious seasoning before they could be considered eligible even as food for thought.

Then you've got the less common folk - the smoke-flavored beef, teriyaki, wasabi, peppered, salted, dipped-in-whiskey, etc; they're great while on a short stint through the social wilderness--and can sometimes even be innervating, as good beef should (especially in spaghetti, or your pants)--but ultimately they're still processed food and eventually clog your intellectual arteries.

Lastly, you've got the vegetables, which tend to be hard to come by; they spend much of their time hiding underground so as to avoid having their heads unceremoniously bitten off by the beef - who only do so to make themselves feel good inside.

Then you have me, who's been a long time friend to the bean and broccoli clan - and who would much rather eat fruit all day long, anyhow.

So... give me your lemons, denizens of the meat aisle! Bring me your peaches, your pears, your apples, your oranges, your kiwis, your berries, your quite-contraries, your limes and your mangos, your nuts and those god-damned delicious old Frangos,

and pie.

That is all, beefstick.

Yowsers!

Ah, good old Inspector Gadget. Tragically, that has nothing to do with my post. Instead of watching Penny and the brain and taking it easy, I've spent the last hour killing myself.

Callouses don't begin to explain the pain I've been putting my fingers through... granted, some of that is because I just changed strings, but the real reason is... well, here - this is what I'm learning. Except for perfecting the pinch harmonics, I got this baby licked cleaner than a--WHOA, that thought came from nowhere... (say hello to Amanda, everybody...)

Oh, sweet ecstasy.

*Creamy*

Just me and my true love:

Hey, you! Over there!



<3

Interpretive Audio Journal: "Unplug me"



"Click"


From: "Unknown"

Interpretive Audio Journal: "The breadth of..."



... Imagination


From: "Unknown"

Oh, sweet masher of my intellectual potato...

And lo, and behold! There came to him in a flash of suffocating dirt-stench... a craving for fried potatoes--willy-nilly and thither from his Irish ancestry of yore and yon--as he yawned at yours truly. Thing of it is this he is me, and I and my potentially perfect potato-gasm are on our way to the one-two point, (as the Chinese say), whereby my greas'd wok and me will see just what we can concoct from just one plump potato sliced just so its inner circle's shared--so succulent and sweet and smelling faintly of fair rosemary--with only we.

Oh, sweet masher of my intellectual potato...

Where the hell are you?

I'm making dinnah, and it's gonna be awesome. You're invited. Come dine on my marvelous tuber! Or at least don't be a boor...

Wowowo!

Can we say "mouse pheromones," class?


World's Smartest Mouse

"Twilight:" Smell ya later!

Bad. Bad bad, worse worse, wrong and wroooong! I had the misfortune of being dragged to go see "Twilight" tonight, and I'm not sure I'm ever going to recover.
Normally, when I have to endure a movie that's genuinely just... THAT BAD... (American pie, Bring it on, etc) I just pretend that the movie was intended to be a satire, and I laugh my ass off at what I somehow manage to force myself to interpret as social irony. Failing that, I try to picture the silhouette of the movie's intellectual vacuum, and imagine what shape it most closely resembles - a turd, a steaming turd, a funny hat, or maybe the fat rolls of the weird guy who gropes himself on the local buses. The point is, I can turn a terrible, terrible movie into a fun experience.

... usually.

Oprah meets a made-for-tv's made-for-tv adaptation of an already bad, bad and more bad book in a worse, worse and worse genre of soulless, trashy romance books with a (generous) substance score ranging from -1 to the vicinity of negative infinity.
That's how I would describe the BEST PARTS of this flick (none of which I could possibly cite... because they don't exist).
The movie was an intersection of painfully adolescent fantasies stacked in layers of increasing idiocy, and I'm still a little uncertain as to whether or not it was real or imagined - as it was more like something that would result from a nightmare about the end of human intelligence.
Speaking of imagined, every time an actor opened its mouth, I was forced to imagine them fighting to hold back their own sad laughter at the sheer inanity of their own lines and the utterly impossibly dreadful scenes (the worst cliches would've been a welcome respite); I would then question whether or not I really imagined it at all. I think I might've actually suffered intellectual apnea a few times and blacked out; I can only hope it was my brain's natural defense system kicking in and saving me from the worse-er-est parts.

I have very little faith in the common person's ability to resist inane fantasies - but I honestly am surprised that ANY human being can buy into something which makes little green men in lipstick and leg warmers seem like a mathematical fact in comparison.

I am genuinely slightly more scared of humanity because this movie exists.

If I had had to watch just 1 more minute of that ... that... THAT, I would've had no choice but to suffer a pre-emptive psychotic break - and would now be on a baby-eating binge, or maybe finger-painting South Park cartoons on my walls and body--and other peoples' walls and bodies--with my feces.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

This is your brain: O
This is your brain on drugs: o
T?i??is?y??r?_____?o??T?il??ht???????

To the funny farm...

"... They're coming to take me away, ho-ho, he-he, ha-ha, to the funny farm - where life is beautiful ALL the time! And I'll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white coats and they're coming to take me AWAY, HA-HAAAAAAAA!!"

[
BUSH GEORGE OBAMA HUSSEIN BIN SECRET COW LEVEL LADEN SADDAM MOSQUE PLANE CAR SUITCASE BOMB NUKE NUCLEAR CILANTRO VIRAL WEAPON GAS BIOLOGICAL WAR LEMON DROP KILL MAIM DESTROY DEAD SUICIDE JIHAD STICKY NOTE ROCKET PROPELLED GRENADE AK 47 GUN TERROR SNOWMAN TERRORIST VERY FINE HAT TERRORISM HIGH QUALITY H2O FBI CIA PENTAGON WIRT'S LEG WASHINGTON D.C. WHITE HOUSE OVAL OFFICE THE SIMS EXPLODE X-RAY AIR FORCE ONE PENGUIN
]

- don't mind me, I'm just ... trying to make sure my tax dollars are hard at work.

(... one-thousand one, one-thousand two, one-thousand three, one-thousand four...)

More random Jimness

There are a lot of things I'd change about the world if I could, and I suppose you could say I have casual aspirations of world domination to that effect - but I also have an ironic knack for seeing the good in people who aren't aware of it themselves, and everywhere I go I can't take my eyes off the beauty of this rock we call home.

I try to keep my perceptive yin and yang in check, so to speak. Dwelling on the negative doesn't make it go away. (But ohhh, can I rant about it!)

The history of (anything, really) is ridiculously fascinating to me. I could talk about anthropology or (insert choice subject here) until I run out of breath.

I love being outdoors and surrounded by life; I grew up next to a creek in a big ol' stretch of trees and fields, and I feel completely at home in the woods. Of all the places I've visited, so far my favorite—by far—was a rainforest. I could easily kick it 'Swiss Family Robinson' style forever, and be perfectly content. As long as the bed was comfy.

I think water beds are freakin' awesome. But I'm not sure I'd want one.

When I can manage to stop gorging on fruit, fresh veggies and yogurt, I really do enjoy the creativity of cooking. All the interactions of tastes and smells and colors and... no, I'm not flashing back to kindergarten... it's just awesome. I simply love cooking. I invent some weird recipes.

I don't consider myself a hedonist to any degree - but I do have a knack for appealing to the hedonistic desires of others. I've never figured that out.

Eeeehhh.. what's the big iderrrrra?

I'm not attracted to women who try to show off every piece of skin they can get away with without being arrested for indecent exposure.

My imagination works GREAT, thank you! Nakedness becomes less and less meaningful when you share it with everybody who sees you. After a certain point, what else of any physical significance would you have left to offer to a special someone?

I appreciate subtlety because it demonstrates cleverness, tact, substance, *confidence*, and lack of "Use me baby, I'm just an object" syndrome.

Damned dirty apesauce!

Nope! Douglas Adams does not maintain a regular presence in my refrigerator... damnit.

... what?

Don't judge me! Your refrigerator smells funny.



... MY refrigerator can beat up YOUR refrigerator!

Nooooo!

(December 2008)

Due to being snowed-in, I have run out of orange cream soda. Somebody, please! Come save me! Bring your tights and cape, (and/or your wrist-deflectors in the event you're more of an old tv show geek than me)! And don't forget the fruit-stripe gum! If I'm not rescued...

In no more than 72 hours, I will begin to have a strange mandarin taste on my tongue at random moments;
after another 48 hours, I'll begin to hallucinate a moisture ring on the coaster on my desk;
after another 24 hours, I'll begin to spasmodically reach for the soda bottles that aren't there -
and finally, 48 hours after that, I'm going to keel over in my chair, pass out...

And then wake up from that terrible, terrible dream.

- I would never do such a stupid thing as run out of my preciousssss...!

Wisdom... LICK IT UP!!!

Who else hates it when idiots have the audacity to be arrogant? What the hell is up with that? I'm talking about those people who should be humbly licking up every defecated piece of excremental wisdom they can find, but who—for countless reasons, none of which are practical or logical—instead act as if they're the coolest living organisms since Nathan Fillion. What could possess a person so entirely devoid of substance or intelligence or intellectual desirability to go so far as to ADVERTISE themselves to anyone other than a shrink, or to anything other than an intensive self-help program?

People just make me giggle sometimes! (And then I wake up from a hallucination about being covered in their brains...)

"Socio-Political Reality 101: '... duuhhh!'"

I'm bored with people talking about who they would or wouldn't vote for. Some people mean well and make good points from a purely relative (and often hypothetical) perspective, but they are all ultimately moot.

Democracy, especially, would/can only be efficient and sensible if the constituency were limited and/or cohesive enough to maintain a general consensus about anything; the fact stands that, no matter who ends up as "president of the united states", that person is not ultimately accountable to the people of the country - and has not been for many, many, many........... years, if ever. It's a lovely but utterly naive notion that a government which controls the world image of a group of individuals—of any size or variety—could ever possibly represent any of them to any acceptable degree. Proof? = law enforcement. The very fact that such a concept exists proves that the social construct itself is fundamentally broken. Arguing about its government is moot.

It's pointless to argue or debate about which candidates for X political office are/aren't better/worse than any other, because the greater truth will always be this: if the majority of human beings would just buck the fuck up, pull their heads out of their intellectual anuses, maybe take a little bit of responsibility for themselves and the way they affect other people and the world in general, then government would've remained a failed theory in a classroom somewhere. The fact that it ever existed in the first place is simply a testament to the—evidently—inevitability of human failure.

Government exists solely to sweep under the rug those very real issues which you choose to ignore and/or deny in your day-to-day life, at least as soon as they get so big and spread so far that the average person is savagely beaten by the shortcomings of his or her even-more-ignorant neighbor(s). The problem is that most human beings have chosen not to develop a functional mechanism for implementing a working "group mentality." People butt heads just for the sake of appealing to their insecurities, and as long as that's true, large-scale societies of human beings will NEVER work. Simple logic, folks.

Government has been and always will be a measuring stick propped against the relative decay of humankind. Even the most noble, well-meaning saint of a politician can be and is still a slave to social dysfunction in all the ways that matter. You think your vote counts? – Sure! It does; you can choose who gets elected. You think your vote is capable of effecting the kind of change you pretend you're brave enough to even conceptualize? – You're out of your cotton-pickin' mind. Do you ever actually interact with people, really?

Want to make the world a better place? Get out on the street and start talking to people. Glean what wisdom you can from life and pass it on just because you can. Find out what ails your neighbors, find out how you can help; find out how to help yourselves. Take your absentee ballots and make a fire for a homeless person; use it to start a conversation, and maybe find out just how incredible the depth of human potential is in the right environment. Inspire people to take responsibility for their own problems, instead of shrugging it off onto the shoulders of some pundit who's just another guy/gal with problems of his/her own and no time or life to deal with them - but who gets paid in cash and notoriety for all that denial and self-ignorance. Real people don't have that luxury. Welcome to life, people - it's not a game, so stop thinking in the relative and start realizing the black and white of it all. Quit bitching about which politician is or isn't going to do what to benefit or annoy you, cos in the end only you can be both entitled to and responsible for your own future. (And only you can prevent forest fires?)

Buying into the system just earns you a wool coat. Who cares if it's painted black? You're still a fucking sheep.
The most influential and provocative people in human history have been and always will be the people who answer only to the voice in the back of their head narrating the big picture. The only people who will ever change anything worth changing are those who lead by example. Grass-roots. It's all there is. Individuals interacting with individuals and sharing ideas; it's all that matters.

(For those of you who are ailed by unwavering skepticism even in the face of overwhelming fact, it's not much of a logical leap to deduce that human beings are by nature not well-suited to large-group life. You can do it yourself! Just flick the "Brain" switch to "On" and the "Television" to "Off." Ever hear of the "lowest-common-denominator syndrome"? ... yeah, of course you have. If not, take some basic mathematics (no wonder you don't understand anything) and take a wild guess at what that implies. Now - ever hear of an exception significant enough that it CHANGED the rule? As is hopefully self-evident, of course not. Human behavioral science isn't theoretical; it's empirical.)

The short of it all:

You want to change anything? Change yourself.

I'm sick of people who allow their denial and selective ignorance to push humanity back 10 steps for every 1 step forward.

Genuinely ignorant? –fine, that's not your fault. I'm happy to say I do understand, and I can deal with it. You still have a chance. Discovery isn't implicit. Nobody knows everything from the get-go.
Pull up a chair and let's talk.

In denial? –fine, that's your choice. However, I'm sad to say I also understand YOU, and I'm not going to accept you. You're a waste of a human being, and should be isolated in the intellectual vacuum you choose to live in. You suck the potential out of your environment and the people in it just by being alive.
Get the fuck off my planet.

Governments—and the inane political/social hurricanes swirling around them—inevitably perpetuate the social problems they are created to control. Any and all perceived "benefit" (such as that which is assumed to result from social government) is actually mere "damage control" skewed by generations of immersion in narrow perspective. When a very large 'bad' situation becomes 'better,' that often distracts people from the historical perspective, which is that the situation was ultimately much better than "bad" until a governing body stepped in and ruined things in the first place.

All of the 'progress' people imagine their governments making is an illusion, masking simply the snail-paced return to a balance which should never have been disrupted to begin with - and which will ultimately remain just out of reach, at best. Look at (insert political candidate/leader/officer here) in an objective light, and you'll always see that s/he is merely a giant cyclical fallacy with a face, and who gets paid a salary to maintain the illusion so the intellectually-blind folk don't walk off a cliff. Me, I say let them drown. Cos right now, the human race as a whole is drowning in stagnant mediocrity borne on the back of technological irresponsibility - and that's hardly the worst of it.

Just because we're all capable of surviving—implicitly—from the detached comforts of our living rooms (for now) doesn't mean that we should be allowed to, or should've ever been. Government is by no means the only culprit, but it is one more mechanism by which weak-willed people allow themselves to be convinced that the ultimate responsibility is not only somebody else's to bear, but sometimes actually "beyond their ability" to bear.

It's much more convenient to choose to believe that somebody else is better-qualified to exercise self-control on your behalf, and government is the spitting image of that "somebody." While I could understand why some people buy into it, I'm honestly shocked that almost everybody does! This is the kind of thing people are supposed to grow out of when they start growing body hair and feeling all hot and bothered about the opposite sex. Instead, they just feel all hot and bothered about American Idols and call that a life worth livin'. What a joke!

To summarize: my point is that ANY alternative to government is better in the long run. Even if it kills all of us, it would be utterly irresponsible to continue to allow the tragically obtuse masses to convert everybody else to Lemmingism by sheer force of intellectual anorexia. Unfortunately, the disease has become so rampant that a complete reset of the human species to ground zero is more likely than any real "fix," and that's a reality we'll all soon be faced with - 'opt-in denial' and 'others' alike. I'd much rather die an unknown person of solid principle (and almost certainly will do so) than be just another ethically-ruminant Ovis Aries.

My personal alternative is to circumvent authority whenever it won't explicitly result in my death or indefinite incarceration, so long as it's possible to live on to fight another day and such a fight has more value than my disappearance/death. I suppose when/if a certain point is reached, those qualifiers will no longer apply. I try to be an example of this; a person of hard-earned and fire-forged principle and character needs no government, and could not possibly gain anything of any real value from one.

A government is like an over-protective and over-exploitative parent; inevitably, its children MUST mature and set out on their own... or they become weak, spoiled, mere leeches in the stagnant pond of society. All the good intentions in the world could never change this. The individual human being needs to simply reformat to the "broad-minded" file system.

"Civil Disobedience" - Henry David Thoreau. Read. One of many underlying points which can be derived from this concept is that reliance upon oneself—self-government, if you will—is the only sustainable form of social order on any scale. While it may be possible to temporarily support a more complex system of government through the extraordinary sacrifices and labors of the individual on behalf of the 'greater good', such efforts will inevitably both fail and cause more long-term harm than short-term benefit.

This is the history of government. This is the future of government. You have a choice. Realizing your options but continuing to stay the same... is the wrong one.

Random Jimness

"Unless people are more than commonly disagreeable, it is my foolish habit to contract a kindness for them." (Nathaniel Hawthorne's "Scarlet Letter," which if you haven't read, you MUST.)

Hello. My name is Jim, and I'm an addict.

... But I've been metaphor- and allegory-free for two whole sentences.

I'm an average joe by day, rollicking guitar god and modest intellectual (adjectives in no particular order!) by night - and I'm accepting requests for the late-night shift! :)

I am a very "zen" guy; my inner peace is, however, punctuated by episodes of intense exploratory surgery of your mind - and the occasional growl in the direction of "those other" human beings. When I'm not savagely beating my head against the world in a desperate attempt to retain a voice and possibly some semblance of self, (or on an intellectual-spelunking adventure), you can find me hiding in my own little world of pen, paper and pixel, getting utterly drunk on knowledge (only), or perhaps just sitting under a tree contemplating any one of the infinite "why"s of the universe.

I crave to meet people of exceptional calibre who are capable of walking without the crutches of assumption or pretense. I enjoy having conversations with the aspects of peoples' personalities that are truly unique to only them. I am provocative, sensual, and honest to a fault. I value truth above all else... except—possibly—for cuddling, good food and (laugh all you want!), occasionally, grammar.

I embrace all truth and don't deceive myself - and that sort of makes life... well... my bitch, (for lack of more suitable vernacular).

I am an anti-materialist. Don't be one of those people who are nothing without their things to make them something. (Or I shall viciously chastise you, with at least 42% seriousness!)

According to French sexual legend, I am ze 'ottest 'uman b'ing in ze worl'. I don't give a fuck about that, though, so don't ever try to appeal to my vanity; I don't have any, and I'll just think you're a shallow idiot.

I fancy myself to be inhumanly intuitive and omnipotently observant. Whether I genuinely am—or simply aspire to that effect—is up to you... but in either case, the wordplay involved in simply discussing the concept turns me on like a light bulb. Yup. I'm that easy. Shake that sexy mind of yours! *bow-chica-brain-wow!*
Don't let my purdy smile fool you; while I would truly love to say I often get the chance to break your brain with pearly-white benevolence, I much more frequently flash it at folks just to wipe from their minds whatever inane thoughts they were about to assault me with. The things I have to put up with...

Whether or not I make you feel like the most valuable person on the planet—or wish you'd never been born—depends entirely on your qualifications. I am almost as adroit at the kind of flattery that could make Bruce Willis blush and quiver as I am scaring adolescent intellects into a hysterically-weeping puddle of their own sorry piss - so I have established the following rules for human interaction. Please:
if you open your mouth in my direction, make sure something slightly salivating—intellectually... or otherwise ;)—will ultimately come of it, or I may be tempted to commandeer both of your feet to play ping-pong with your uvula 'til your mommy comes to pick you up with straitjacket in tow.

If you are expected back in a mental hospital somewhere, please inform me before any other interaction takes place!

Most of the time, I feel that I simply can't be bothered with the affairs of mortals.

I can smell stupidity 88 yards away, and I don't want any of yours, so keep it locked up. I can be pretty judgmental, but I'm also extremely fuckin' bright in every way that counts and have earned that right - so your "arrogance" is often my "common sense, you idiot." Please don't make me patronize you.

If you provoke me, I'll tell you the truth, and you might hate me for it - unless you were just testing my genius. I assure you, it is not necessary.

I appreciate the hilarious irony of karmic vengeance, and I absolutely LOVE to watch people get sucked into the intellectual vacuums they build their lives upon. I don't enjoy any but the most clever of comedies; real life is just 10,000 times more funny.

"I studied the ancient art of origami-gun making, and I folded it out of purest prose. This is an origami .45 - the most powerful poetry in the world!" (The Asylum)

I'm attracted to obscure knowledge as a general rule. Also, I just realized I'm attracted to obscure people.

If the first thing I realize after you open your mouth in my direction is that I've already met you a thousand times before, then knowing me is going to be about as much fun for you as taking anal suppositories.

By mouth.

And by force.


... Yes - the whole bottle.


Now that that's all said and done, there is admittedly a (tiny) possibility that I might be slightly exaggerating how much I despise most people. In fact, try as I might to suppress them, I'm actually prone to compassionate urges.
Mister Vulcan... I've... I've failed you.

Really, if people have anything other than a steaming pile of feces cooking in their brainpans, I can probably find a way to appreciate them as human beings... whether I want to or not...

But don't push it! I've come to suspect that that might be my only weakness; I'm just waiting for a good excuse to change my mind about ALL of you and set the world on fire!

Second-degree "Snowmanslaughter"


... HA HA HA! I am ASHAMED that I hadn't thought of this first!

"Ode to the dangerous pursuit of egg-nog"

(December 2008)

Right now I'm really annoyed at my roommate; she's got another guy over (4th in as many days - the first days she met them all, of course) and they're having painfully adolescent, mediocre... loud (at least one of them is faking)... sex in her room...

... Which is also presently our living room. God damn it! I'm torn between walking out there and berating them for making such a mockery of the sexual act, or laughing maniacally along in rhythm with their sad, sad horn-dog-dance of sad, sad, sadness until he loses it (if he hasn't already by the time I finished writing this... haha! Poor guy). And to make things worse, I want some egg nog really freakin' bad! The kitchen is connected to the same hallway, though...

I'm tempted to look up some viciously demented BDSM video on the web, turn it up really loud, turn on my computer's microphone and start hyperventilating over my speakers just to scare the shit out of them (and the neighbors, but that would just be a bonus).

EVERYONE SHOULD BE REQUIRED TO PASS A TEST BEFORE BEING ALLOWED TO SHARE THEIR GENITALS WITH OTHER HUMANS.

The truth ... about Lava Lamps!

I've come to the conclusion that lava lamps just might be some super-sneaky-ninja-like government attempt at targeted crowd control.

Think about it: if you could distribute a device dangerous and addictive enough, what better way to get rid of those pesky folks who habitually smoke too much weed, trip on mushy mushrooms, or consume chemical cocktails?

And then there are the REAL threats to government authority: those nerdy folks like myself who are just really fascinated by creative physics experiments which lend themselves to adventurous (and colorful!) dream states.

So, after all that... how could it possibly be a coincidence that lava lamps are SO fascinating – and such a huge freakin' FIRE HAZARD!?

Of course, the logical explanation is that "they"—the man, the big kahuna, the red plague, the malevolent peach fuzz on Big Brother Society's chest—are simply trying to burn us all a-fuckin' live!

Yooooou know it. And you heard it right here!

Pineapple & cilantro "not-quite-sorbet"

One of my favorite desserts; the combination of flavors might sound a little daunting, but they actually complement each other nicely. Give it a try and you might be pleasantly surprised.

Or, you might begin uncontrollably projectile vomiting on your dressed-up dinner company.

Either way, I'm pleased!

Required Items:
- Medium saucepan
- Medium bowl
- Blender or fine-bladed food processor
- Shallow pan/casserole dish/cake tin/etc

Syrup Ingredients:
- 2 cups sugar
- 1 cup water

Other Ingredients:
- 1 cup vanilla ice cream
- 1 cup fresh-squeezed pineapple juice
- 1 cups pureed pineapple
- Approximately 1-3 tbsp very finely chopped fresh cilantro
- Lemon juice

Optional:
- Whipped cream
- Approximately 3 tbsp rum or vodka (choose by flavor preference) --OR-- approximately 6 tbsp champagne.
----------------------------------------------------------

Syrup Preparation -
Combine water and sugar in a medium-sized saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Once all sugar crystals have completely dissolved, remove from heat and pour into a bowl for later use. Let cool completely (to room temperature) before using. Cover and place the syrup in the refrigerator to speed up the cooling process, if desired.

The rest -
Combine fruit juice and fruit puree in blender.
Add cooled syrup to the mix slowly, blending 2-3 seconds before tasting; the mixture will lose some sweetness after it freezes, so you should adjust the taste now to be just slightly sweeter than you prefer.
Add 1-2 tsp lemon juice to taste in the same manner, if desired (if you enjoy a slightly bitter citrus taste to round out the sweetness of the pineapple).
Add alcohol to the mixture, if desired. (Note: adding alcohol tends to lend a much smoother texture to your finished product, but is by no means necessary - the taste, however, (especially of a dry champagne with this particular dish), can be quite satisfying for those of you who drink alcohol.
Blend finished mixture for another 30 seconds.
Pour into a shallow pan and place, uncovered, in the freezer.
After the mixture has frozen completely, use a knife or fork to break it up into chunks; then, re-blend the chunks of ice until they are uniformly smooth, and place it back in the pan and back into the freezer. Repeat 2-3 times if possible, or at least until you are ready to serve.

To serve:
Break up any ice in the mixture; combine mixture, ice cream, cilantro (to taste, start with ~1 tsp), and re-blend for 30-60 seconds or until all ingredients are evenly mixed and the consistency is smooth. For the sake of presentation, serve in a smaller (6-8oz) glass or bowl and top with a sprig of cilantro and a dab of whipped cream if desired.

Enjoy!

Friday, January 9, 2009

The Governed

A leader's just a follower
Who hasn't lost all self-control,
And chooses not to take the path
That's traveled by the mindless hordes;
The governed choose to shut their eyes
And walk without their sticks,
And they trade in their humanity
For the most-appealing lies and tricks;
They choose not to spend the time
To learn to keep their lives in line,
And since they can't control themselves,
They sell the job to someone else;

The world's not bi-chromatic,
But black and white don't lie;
Self-awareness is the range of life -
Are you the baker, or the pie?
Either governed or a governor -
You're the pilot or the plane...
You can choose to follow someone else -

Or you can lead yourself.

While sheep can have the luxury
Of guidance by the shepherd's staff,
The strength of will of only one of three
Survives the shepherd's wrath:

The wolf—who likes to live alone
For lack of tasteful company—
Has less in common with the likes of you
Than you might have with me.

Are You Familiar With the Teaches of...


And what is so wonderful about Peaches, you may ask? One word, minions:

"Irreverence!" -- something I value very vehemently.

As disturbing as it should be but isn't, some of you are also really going to like this kind of stuff - even if it is for completely the wrong reason. So I promise that I will post more sexy song samples so to satiate said sick sadistic sex slaves' strange appetites, (and "all about alliteration" arriving anon!).

Now, take a hammer and break a bone for me!

PS Don't try to fuck your pain away. It only spreads it.

Monkeyshock

It must be a full moon!
Perched upon the castle wall
Eating paint chips and dancing,
Half wishing I'll fall
Singing words with no meaning
To the un-hearing evening,
And miming ambient bleating...
Horned sheep in your pasture, feeding;
Fueling glowing red lies, fleeing
Anything that feels like home or truth,
And cleaning with bloody bleach the taint
Of your reality. Disappointing. Feign -
Avoiding decision, indulging derisive visions,
Perpetuating emptiness,
Necessitating holiness to explain away your life.
Tonight's no special night,
So I take another bite, here -
Have another chip.
You know, I never could eat just one... goddamn you!


Ravings of a Depraved Deity... and His Guitar

I stand alone atop the battlement
Of self-discovery,
The only garrison against the drones
Sent to destroy me;
With axe in hand, with armor donned,
I drive the beat which drives me on,
And nobody can stand against my will,
Nor kill my song!

Communion ala Little Caesar!

Satan loves me,
This I know...
For he shook my hand
And told me so...
He looked into my eyes and said,
"Bad news. You lose, man: god is DEAD."

But I just cracked a wicked grin,
And gave poor Satan's head a spin...
I said that I'd known all along;
I'd been there at the end, in trust,
When good ol' Jesus bit the dust -
And I baked his flesh into this scrumptious,
Pan-style,
(Oh my lord, Kyle!)
"Jeez-stuffed" PIZZA CRUST!

Random Stuff I Think About

I'm thankful for the sacrifices of the fruits I eat. What a beautiful relationship. I want to be somebody's "fruit."

I wonder if anybody will ever "get" me.

Why does some music make my heart beat faster without my permission?

What's the secret ingredient in Henry's Orange Cream Soda?

I wonder when it will become possible to modify your vocal chords. I wouldn't mind being able to break into a perfect Sean Connery one moment, then belt out some pitch-perfect Sarah McLachlan the next, just because I could. But the ethical dilemmas...

Speaking of Sarah McLachlan, what do you think she had in mind when she wrote "Building a Mystery?"

I love that song.

So many people have magnesium deficiencies that affect their ability to cogitate, and don't even know that they need magnesium. Eat more leafy greens, people! For my sake...

What would life be like without Switters?

... I don't want to think about it. What would Switters do? Ah, ha! Think about my boss' daughter. Oh, sweet taboo...

Someday, I'd take great pleasure in converting the Bush family into bio diesel.

Who thought of the name for the "Snapple" brand?
What a catchy name.
And what an utterly pedestrian play on words.
What a fuckin' shame.

People always ask if I'm tired,
But never what I'm tired of.

Skeleton women who believe that their gym-made hyper-skinniness excuses their blatant arrogance annoy—and scare—me. Weighing less than my guitar doesn't earn you any special treatment. If I can see your bones, it's not going to turn me on - it's going to make me tell you to eat more and use your vibrator 16 hours a day less than you do. What broader change is reflected in the fact that so many men in our society have begun to base their fundamental attraction to women on artificial and/or masculine traits? I can't be the only one who still appreciates the way a woman's body develops naturally, can I?

Latin is the coolest language in the world.
Right now.

Riddick once killed a guy with a soup cup... so what?
I could kill you with a bottle cap.

... or my mind.