My name is shit face?
You know why, cause I take shits on peoples faces?
Do you do that shit for a living?
Na. I didn't think so?
You think I was an arrogant prick in the past?
Well, I'm back and I'm here to stay. Yeah!
I just ate an envelope dogs, that shit tasted like garbage
Ya ever tasted dog shit?
I did! and I liked it! and I want to taste it again!
You know how sick I am? I once watched Vanderbilt drink a chocolate shit shake!
He thought it was milk shake.
Vanderbilt loves milk shakes
Kick you in the uterus see what happens, i can rap and rap, till i stop rappin
went to the pre-school with harold ramis' niece, she made me lick her boots. I didnt like that experience. I didnt like the time when will wonka dressed up in a rabbit suit and stomped my Hess toy truck. I feel lost sometimes. Tears comes to my eyes, I fantasize about nanny from the muppet babies sometimes. Leave me alone. Stop, Rolph you god damn black dog. Give me back my toy boat. Lets race, I'll win and then smack youre head into a drawer. You'll cry I'll laugh, and we'll move on.
P.S. I'm French
Showing posts with label Shitface. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shitface. Show all posts
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Friday, November 24, 2006
free write in a flash
Circumscribing the events of last evening with a seasoning found as secret in katsup
distracted my attention from real issues, like lying on the floor throwing focus into the air, almost fan shaped, like a heteroscadastic residual pattern.
I loathed myself for acts of immaturity, which were wrought quite violently on the bodies around me. They felt my punishment and better yet my supreme authority over the events that were to transpire.
Like Galactus this is how I perpetuate myself, without a morality, with out a care for the bunny rabbit, or other various creatures that I have begun to consume at alarming rates.
Voices raise and I refuse to swallow my pride. Visions of religious institutions being destroyed, nation states enveloped in clouds of mistrust, to thick to ignore.
Claiming ignorance does not work in certain settings.
One's proper place is situated in a mess of time, where a visit to Comp USA could bring back ten years.
The air numbs my fingers, my face. My body like an image of a rape victim, soft and vulnerable. Muscles built by counting fade in regards to robustness while lungs collapse with self esteem. Push push push for pride. I have nothing to prove. The rain and the cold continuous, fully controlling.
A testament to my ignorance? Perhaps? My greatest fear tied up my impossible penetration into another's existence.
Forgetting how to count is a serious offense. Scrambling for a fixed moment is futile. Reliving the past is a necessity. Activities range but they stay the same. Move over, I'm finished now.
distracted my attention from real issues, like lying on the floor throwing focus into the air, almost fan shaped, like a heteroscadastic residual pattern.
I loathed myself for acts of immaturity, which were wrought quite violently on the bodies around me. They felt my punishment and better yet my supreme authority over the events that were to transpire.
Like Galactus this is how I perpetuate myself, without a morality, with out a care for the bunny rabbit, or other various creatures that I have begun to consume at alarming rates.
Voices raise and I refuse to swallow my pride. Visions of religious institutions being destroyed, nation states enveloped in clouds of mistrust, to thick to ignore.
Claiming ignorance does not work in certain settings.
One's proper place is situated in a mess of time, where a visit to Comp USA could bring back ten years.
The air numbs my fingers, my face. My body like an image of a rape victim, soft and vulnerable. Muscles built by counting fade in regards to robustness while lungs collapse with self esteem. Push push push for pride. I have nothing to prove. The rain and the cold continuous, fully controlling.
A testament to my ignorance? Perhaps? My greatest fear tied up my impossible penetration into another's existence.
Forgetting how to count is a serious offense. Scrambling for a fixed moment is futile. Reliving the past is a necessity. Activities range but they stay the same. Move over, I'm finished now.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Stan
Stan the man, he cooked a can. Made that shit into butter, my mind equals gutter when I go to the train station, I look up clocks like you lick up cock. Forget about those notions, we went to the ocean and I dumped a pound of squid in your ear. You forget what it was like to hear the ocean. I put my balls to your ear to get the vaccum sound out. Left you in ya muthas black hole. It was damp, a breeding place for all kinds of diseases including dying of twisted skull. To continue lets emphasize your rolo roll. the creamy caramel made dinner enticing. Be on time, or die death. ear pies with a hand tied behind your back and forget your name is William. If a moment I will bite the hand of art carney deceased mother. It tasted like carrot mold. You fuckn idiot. We run this cube. find a position and Ill predict it, through the old Chinese lad from the cloud with his lemon head suitcase. I laughed and drueled simultaneouusly like the play I got from Super C. Rings grow in the niether region of a cave counting features of justine batemans third pregancy. Forget about linear time, a jumped your randoplh hearst's bones. Left em a giant stadium to be sold next to mario pong. Creating my soup of life requires a skill that 99.9 percent of the population can do. Let me jump on orange mushrooms while you play friction burns on my balls. I ll take your brain and bash it in xylem mallets. The floam follows closely in second. I through the treasure chest of the bridge, attached your first cat's paw. Call me Shitface mcgraw. Im bigger than health cliff and I have no problem playing xmen for gensis all night. Challenge me Ill choke on your pubis. You play with me I just get like rubix. Alexander Von Humboldt ate the last piece of cake. What a crumb. I use 4c to produce declacies. I was stuck in the Alladian when I challenged Theorodre ruxpin to a contest. Who could belch seamen bubbles at a moderate rate. Well who can. Its fast in slow, the binary nomenclature weighs you down after a while. Spent to much time shareping pencils and not enough time massaging honey into the duke. You forget what it might feel like to feel hard rocks rub up against the suceptible tip of your promethius piss maker. I dont run with my mouth full, cause I have the tendency to take shits while listening to old country boys plan their next baby sitting appointments. I got skin stretched over your head and its tight like my W. Turn it upside down and uretha will be stolen by peter faulk and his associates the jew boys. Cant say i remember who actually freed the slaves. I think his name was T Scrizzle. Its private like taking stereo shits ac slater style in the old pre school. Took a jog to the masonic lodge, started a fire and ate corn on the cob. Got stuck in my teeth watched a dirty film, watch keenan ivory wayans get pritty trill. Kicked the tree to kick your wound. Fuckn mother nature until she swallowed the spoon. I had a babysitter and his name was duke, he sold my daughter in a slavery for the price of puke. DOnt laugh the shit happened, christmas came early and I took the non working red pencil and forced you to place it on your future neighbors toliet bowl. Coal burned until you gave me my kent hrback 87 topps. What happend, whats going on. My relations improved with the stuff that gave life to gremlins. The one man gang advanced without facing an opponent what a bunch of shit. He gleaneld the perspective from reading the floor.
FROM READING THE FLOOR!
FROM READING THE FLOOR!
'wild' fires
This topical review is devoted to natural hazards, and more specifically, wild fires. In the last month or so there have been a number of fires in Ventura County, California that have had deleterious effects on human settlements. A significant amount of resources have been mobilized to combat these fires. This topical review explores the issue of wild fires through a lens of hazard conceptualization, the social construction of nature, and the inevitable politicization of what Mark Pelling calls a humanitarian disaster with a natural trigger (Pelling 2002, CNN 2006).
The recently deceased Gilbert White originally conceptualized the term natural hazard in the 1940’s. His physical oriented position laid down an ideological infrastructure in which technological fixes could operate fluidly. In this manner, natural hazards or disasters were usually met with narrow technological solutions. This external view of nature was fresh in the minds of policy makers who looked towards engineers for quick fixes to complex problems (Pelling 2002).
In the last few decades there has been a resistance to this physical paradigm in the form of a more socially based approach. It has been acknowledged that some of the intrinsic or unchanging aspects of hazards (i.e. the physical) may be aggravated or even caused by humans. These harmful anthropocentric processes include global warming, deforestation, and even hazard prevention itself in the form of man made structures such as dams. In recent years, there has been an increasing effort to examine human activities and their relation to vulnerability and risk (Castree 2002, Pelling 2002).
Mark Pelling’s conceptualization of the hazard as a humanitarian disaster with a natural trigger is significant. The degree of risk that a hazard creates is directly related to the levels of preparedness that a given human population may have. Pelling’s vulnerability assessments of exposure, resistance, and resilience provide insight into current manifestations of wild fires in Ventura County, Ca. (Pelling 2002).
I have also chosen to utilize the social construction of nature lens to view wild fires. This point of view is a radical departure from the ‘human-environment’ model that many social scientists rely on. The human environment model has three fundamental components. These tenets present nature as an entity external to humans, as unchanging or intrinsic, and as all encompassing or universal. The social construction theory posits that definitions of nature not only differ by a particular society or culture, but also are likely to be formed by power with hegemonic intentions (Smith 1996a, Castree 2002).
Cronon illustrates this point by showing that definitions of nature have often contrasted with time, even in the same society. He sees a bifurcation of the natural and civilization in western culture. When nature is an obstacle to expansion or lies beyond the frontier of civilization, it is viewed as primordial and dangerous. However, more times than not, it has been viewed as a virgin territory ripe for exploitation by capitalist needs. Contrasting with the past, in current times, nature is often viewed as something sublime to be enjoyed by the upper classes. This brief outline of the social construction of nature aids us in expounding problems associated with wild fires (Cronon 1996, Smith 1996a, Proctor 1998).
In the case of wildfires, the middle class and wealthy are put at risk along with the poor. Hazardous areas can be attractive to rich clientele. In the case of areas vulnerable to hurricanes, waterfront ambience can be viewed as a consumer amenity. For wildfires, the topic at hand, those with exurbian lifestyles are particularly at risk (Davis and Nelson 1994).
According to Davis and Nelson, the exurbs are characterized by their spatial position between the established suburban and the rural. This situating of an exurbian landscape is quite vague. However, regardless of exact spatial orientation, this term does represent a significant residential shift. Though the exurbs are usually explained in terms of consumption desires, i.e. desire to get away from the city, larger estates, and cheaper land, it is important to look at this trend in the midst of urban restructuring (Garreu 1991, Davis and Nelson 1994, Smith 1996b, Smith 2002).
In terms of transportation, one must situate exurbia in the spatial locus of emerging edge cities. Employment in the Central Business District has significantly declined. Occupations in edge cities allow shorter commutes for exurbian residents. Exurbia must also be framed in the context of continued suburban expansion. In case of exurbia, developers may have simply chosen to leap frog over areas adjacent to existing suburbs in hope that returns on investment would be greater. Through advertisement to potential consumers, those desiring a ‘rural’ lifestyle are solicited (Garreau 1991, Davis and Nelson 1994, Smith 1996).
The very existence of exurbia, which in many cases spatially coincides with rural/poor settlements, is emblematic of contradictions that arise in the environment and the people perspective. Exurbian consumers bring many of their ‘urban’ consumption patterns to ‘rural’ space. This move to the rural is very much couched in the idea of an intrinsic nature. The ideology of untouched nature resonates in the producers and consumers of this space. By bringing their consumptive habits to these areas, they are fundamentally altering the space they live in. An unchanging view of nature elides this reality. It is reasoned that nature ceases to exist in a concrete urban locale, but can be found in a less densely populated rural area. From a social construction view of nature, this is clearly not reality (Proctor 1998, Castree 2002).
Keeping these factors in mind one may still inquire about the economic viability of building in potentially hazardous areas. Withstanding certain exceptions, (charging high insurance rates, manufacture of buildings, and use of raw materials), persons do not wish to have their houses burnt down. There is something to be said about scientific conceptualizations of natural hazards and their relation to risky settlement patterns. In other words, what has mainstream scientific theory done to alleviate or exacerbate this problem? (In a constructivist point of view, science is socially constructed as well) (Proctor 1998).
Ultimately, like many phenomena in geography, current views of fire hazards can be traced back to Davis’ geomorphological cycle. Influenced by Darwin and Lyell, he introduced incrementalism into Geography. In this paradigm, there is little room for catastrophic or rapid time events. The ideology behind incrementalism was created as a polemic to biblical tales such as the great flood. This principle has had a strong foothold in the physical and social sciences for years. Strict adherence to this slow or gradual approach has hindered the development of dynamic theories pertaining to events caused by catastrophic action, such as dinosaur extinction (Davis 1954, Sauer 1956, Stoddart 1981).
In the last section of this review, I will localize the problem by exploring some data taken from the Census and expound the political nature of these wild fires.
As mentioned earlier, human vulnerability to hazards is important. These wild fires, though occurring at relatively regular time intervals, are not broad reaching in terms of their effect on human populations. Despite their absolute numbers, persons in Ventura County have access to resources at many scales. In fact, governor Arnold Schwarzenegger declared a state of emergency for Ventura County in September. This action allowed state funds to be funneled into the area. According to a CNN article, as of September 26th, 43 million dollars were expended and 350 fire fighters were employed to fight this particular blaze (CNN 2006).
Only five hundred people were given voluntary evacuation advice when the fire reached within a mile and a half of a small community named Lockwood Valley. Depending on ones definition of metropolitan, the northeast part of Ventura County that these fires are located in can be considered part of the L.A. metro area. They lay only a few hours drive from downtown L.A. The Census tract, which encompasses these fires is 65 miles across and covers most of Northern Ventura County. According to the 2000 Census, this area only contained 843 persons, 92 percent of which were white. The median household income was close to 60,000 dollars (Census 2000, CNN 2006).
The previous was a very brief demographic profile of the area, but nonetheless, it is very telling. The number of fire fighters trying to contain this blaze is comparable to the number of people living in the surrounding communities. These examples show how political natural hazards really are. The ability to garner protection from hazardous events seems to be a question of resource distribution. Persons with power are able to mobilize resources to significantly lessen their level of risk.
The governmental and scientific commitment to preventing, and in this case containing fires is a case of egregious political bias. Definitions of hazards and disasters have real connotations for the groups affected. The governor’s decree of ‘state of emergency’ is certainly selective. Chronic anthropocentric hazards caused by localized uneven development in the L.A. metropolitan area are evidently not acknowledged by the state as emergency worthy. The state in the form of hazard response cannot be acknowledged as an institution or body that equally responds to humanitarian plights. The state plays a significant role because it controls the resources that can be used to combat or eradicate certain hazards (Pelling 2002, CNN 2006).
Governmental support in the form of fire fighting encourages developers to build in these areas. This process continually puts more people at risk from fires. By providing assistance, the government is essentially subsidizing further development. Coupled with an increased desire for the consumption of exurbian spaces, this ‘hazard’ will only become more pronounced in the future. More than likely, the response will be continued investment into technological fixes. It is easy to see how this cycle of development and increased vulnerability perpetuates itself. It is also clear that the state’s resources are often allocated to decreasing the vulnerability of the few and powerful, while the masses are continually put at risk from hazards that may or may not be defined as natural.
Works Cited
Castree, N., “Socializing Nature: Theory, Practice, and Politics,” in Noel Castree and
Bruce Braun, eds., Social Nature: Theory, Practice, and Politics. Oxford:
Blackwell Publishers 2001, 1-22.
Census Bureau. American Fact Finder. 12 Oct , 2006. Census Bureau. 12 Oct 2006
http://factfinder.census.gov/home/saff/main.html?_lang=en
Cronon, W., “The Trouble with Wilderness, a Response,” Environmental History 1,
1996, 47-55.
CNN: Ventura County Fires. Wildfires. 26 Sept, 2006. CNN.com. 15 Oct 2006
< http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2006/wildfires/index.html>
Davis, W., “The Geographical Cycle,” in Davis, Geographical Essays. Dover, 1954 eds.,
248-278.
Davis, J., and Nelson, A., “The New ‘Burbs’: The Exurbs and Their Implications for
Planning Policy,” Journal of the American Planning Assocation 60.1, 1994, 45-60.
Garreau, J., Edge City, New York: Doubleday, 1991.
Pelling, M., “Natural Disasters?,” in Noel Castree and Bruce Braun, eds., Social
Nature: Theory, Practice, and Politics. Oxford: Blackwell Publishers 2001, 170-189.
Proctor, J., “The Social Construction of Nature: Relativist Accusations, Pragmatist and
Critical Realist Responses,” Annals of the Association of American Geographers
88.3, 1998, 352-376.
Sauer, C., “The Agency of Man,” in Thomas William Thomas, Man’s Role in Changing
the Face of the Earth. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1956, 49-69.
Smith, N., “The Production of Nature” in George Robertson and Melinda Mash, eds.,
FutureNatural. London: Routledge, 1996a, 111-143.
Smith, N., The New Urban Frontier, Gentrification and the Revanchist City, New York:
Routledge, 1996b.
Smith, N., “New Globalism, New Urbanism: Gentrification as Global Strategy,”
Antipode 34.3, 2002, 427-450.
Stoddart, D., “Darwin’s Impact on Geography,” in Stoddart, On Geography. Oxford:
Basil Blackwell, 1981, 158-179.
The recently deceased Gilbert White originally conceptualized the term natural hazard in the 1940’s. His physical oriented position laid down an ideological infrastructure in which technological fixes could operate fluidly. In this manner, natural hazards or disasters were usually met with narrow technological solutions. This external view of nature was fresh in the minds of policy makers who looked towards engineers for quick fixes to complex problems (Pelling 2002).
In the last few decades there has been a resistance to this physical paradigm in the form of a more socially based approach. It has been acknowledged that some of the intrinsic or unchanging aspects of hazards (i.e. the physical) may be aggravated or even caused by humans. These harmful anthropocentric processes include global warming, deforestation, and even hazard prevention itself in the form of man made structures such as dams. In recent years, there has been an increasing effort to examine human activities and their relation to vulnerability and risk (Castree 2002, Pelling 2002).
Mark Pelling’s conceptualization of the hazard as a humanitarian disaster with a natural trigger is significant. The degree of risk that a hazard creates is directly related to the levels of preparedness that a given human population may have. Pelling’s vulnerability assessments of exposure, resistance, and resilience provide insight into current manifestations of wild fires in Ventura County, Ca. (Pelling 2002).
I have also chosen to utilize the social construction of nature lens to view wild fires. This point of view is a radical departure from the ‘human-environment’ model that many social scientists rely on. The human environment model has three fundamental components. These tenets present nature as an entity external to humans, as unchanging or intrinsic, and as all encompassing or universal. The social construction theory posits that definitions of nature not only differ by a particular society or culture, but also are likely to be formed by power with hegemonic intentions (Smith 1996a, Castree 2002).
Cronon illustrates this point by showing that definitions of nature have often contrasted with time, even in the same society. He sees a bifurcation of the natural and civilization in western culture. When nature is an obstacle to expansion or lies beyond the frontier of civilization, it is viewed as primordial and dangerous. However, more times than not, it has been viewed as a virgin territory ripe for exploitation by capitalist needs. Contrasting with the past, in current times, nature is often viewed as something sublime to be enjoyed by the upper classes. This brief outline of the social construction of nature aids us in expounding problems associated with wild fires (Cronon 1996, Smith 1996a, Proctor 1998).
In the case of wildfires, the middle class and wealthy are put at risk along with the poor. Hazardous areas can be attractive to rich clientele. In the case of areas vulnerable to hurricanes, waterfront ambience can be viewed as a consumer amenity. For wildfires, the topic at hand, those with exurbian lifestyles are particularly at risk (Davis and Nelson 1994).
According to Davis and Nelson, the exurbs are characterized by their spatial position between the established suburban and the rural. This situating of an exurbian landscape is quite vague. However, regardless of exact spatial orientation, this term does represent a significant residential shift. Though the exurbs are usually explained in terms of consumption desires, i.e. desire to get away from the city, larger estates, and cheaper land, it is important to look at this trend in the midst of urban restructuring (Garreu 1991, Davis and Nelson 1994, Smith 1996b, Smith 2002).
In terms of transportation, one must situate exurbia in the spatial locus of emerging edge cities. Employment in the Central Business District has significantly declined. Occupations in edge cities allow shorter commutes for exurbian residents. Exurbia must also be framed in the context of continued suburban expansion. In case of exurbia, developers may have simply chosen to leap frog over areas adjacent to existing suburbs in hope that returns on investment would be greater. Through advertisement to potential consumers, those desiring a ‘rural’ lifestyle are solicited (Garreau 1991, Davis and Nelson 1994, Smith 1996).
The very existence of exurbia, which in many cases spatially coincides with rural/poor settlements, is emblematic of contradictions that arise in the environment and the people perspective. Exurbian consumers bring many of their ‘urban’ consumption patterns to ‘rural’ space. This move to the rural is very much couched in the idea of an intrinsic nature. The ideology of untouched nature resonates in the producers and consumers of this space. By bringing their consumptive habits to these areas, they are fundamentally altering the space they live in. An unchanging view of nature elides this reality. It is reasoned that nature ceases to exist in a concrete urban locale, but can be found in a less densely populated rural area. From a social construction view of nature, this is clearly not reality (Proctor 1998, Castree 2002).
Keeping these factors in mind one may still inquire about the economic viability of building in potentially hazardous areas. Withstanding certain exceptions, (charging high insurance rates, manufacture of buildings, and use of raw materials), persons do not wish to have their houses burnt down. There is something to be said about scientific conceptualizations of natural hazards and their relation to risky settlement patterns. In other words, what has mainstream scientific theory done to alleviate or exacerbate this problem? (In a constructivist point of view, science is socially constructed as well) (Proctor 1998).
Ultimately, like many phenomena in geography, current views of fire hazards can be traced back to Davis’ geomorphological cycle. Influenced by Darwin and Lyell, he introduced incrementalism into Geography. In this paradigm, there is little room for catastrophic or rapid time events. The ideology behind incrementalism was created as a polemic to biblical tales such as the great flood. This principle has had a strong foothold in the physical and social sciences for years. Strict adherence to this slow or gradual approach has hindered the development of dynamic theories pertaining to events caused by catastrophic action, such as dinosaur extinction (Davis 1954, Sauer 1956, Stoddart 1981).
In the last section of this review, I will localize the problem by exploring some data taken from the Census and expound the political nature of these wild fires.
As mentioned earlier, human vulnerability to hazards is important. These wild fires, though occurring at relatively regular time intervals, are not broad reaching in terms of their effect on human populations. Despite their absolute numbers, persons in Ventura County have access to resources at many scales. In fact, governor Arnold Schwarzenegger declared a state of emergency for Ventura County in September. This action allowed state funds to be funneled into the area. According to a CNN article, as of September 26th, 43 million dollars were expended and 350 fire fighters were employed to fight this particular blaze (CNN 2006).
Only five hundred people were given voluntary evacuation advice when the fire reached within a mile and a half of a small community named Lockwood Valley. Depending on ones definition of metropolitan, the northeast part of Ventura County that these fires are located in can be considered part of the L.A. metro area. They lay only a few hours drive from downtown L.A. The Census tract, which encompasses these fires is 65 miles across and covers most of Northern Ventura County. According to the 2000 Census, this area only contained 843 persons, 92 percent of which were white. The median household income was close to 60,000 dollars (Census 2000, CNN 2006).
The previous was a very brief demographic profile of the area, but nonetheless, it is very telling. The number of fire fighters trying to contain this blaze is comparable to the number of people living in the surrounding communities. These examples show how political natural hazards really are. The ability to garner protection from hazardous events seems to be a question of resource distribution. Persons with power are able to mobilize resources to significantly lessen their level of risk.
The governmental and scientific commitment to preventing, and in this case containing fires is a case of egregious political bias. Definitions of hazards and disasters have real connotations for the groups affected. The governor’s decree of ‘state of emergency’ is certainly selective. Chronic anthropocentric hazards caused by localized uneven development in the L.A. metropolitan area are evidently not acknowledged by the state as emergency worthy. The state in the form of hazard response cannot be acknowledged as an institution or body that equally responds to humanitarian plights. The state plays a significant role because it controls the resources that can be used to combat or eradicate certain hazards (Pelling 2002, CNN 2006).
Governmental support in the form of fire fighting encourages developers to build in these areas. This process continually puts more people at risk from fires. By providing assistance, the government is essentially subsidizing further development. Coupled with an increased desire for the consumption of exurbian spaces, this ‘hazard’ will only become more pronounced in the future. More than likely, the response will be continued investment into technological fixes. It is easy to see how this cycle of development and increased vulnerability perpetuates itself. It is also clear that the state’s resources are often allocated to decreasing the vulnerability of the few and powerful, while the masses are continually put at risk from hazards that may or may not be defined as natural.
Works Cited
Castree, N., “Socializing Nature: Theory, Practice, and Politics,” in Noel Castree and
Bruce Braun, eds., Social Nature: Theory, Practice, and Politics. Oxford:
Blackwell Publishers 2001, 1-22.
Census Bureau. American Fact Finder. 12 Oct , 2006. Census Bureau. 12 Oct 2006
http://factfinder.census.gov/home/saff/main.html?_lang=en
Cronon, W., “The Trouble with Wilderness, a Response,” Environmental History 1,
1996, 47-55.
CNN: Ventura County Fires. Wildfires. 26 Sept, 2006. CNN.com. 15 Oct 2006
< http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2006/wildfires/index.html>
Davis, W., “The Geographical Cycle,” in Davis, Geographical Essays. Dover, 1954 eds.,
248-278.
Davis, J., and Nelson, A., “The New ‘Burbs’: The Exurbs and Their Implications for
Planning Policy,” Journal of the American Planning Assocation 60.1, 1994, 45-60.
Garreau, J., Edge City, New York: Doubleday, 1991.
Pelling, M., “Natural Disasters?,” in Noel Castree and Bruce Braun, eds., Social
Nature: Theory, Practice, and Politics. Oxford: Blackwell Publishers 2001, 170-189.
Proctor, J., “The Social Construction of Nature: Relativist Accusations, Pragmatist and
Critical Realist Responses,” Annals of the Association of American Geographers
88.3, 1998, 352-376.
Sauer, C., “The Agency of Man,” in Thomas William Thomas, Man’s Role in Changing
the Face of the Earth. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1956, 49-69.
Smith, N., “The Production of Nature” in George Robertson and Melinda Mash, eds.,
FutureNatural. London: Routledge, 1996a, 111-143.
Smith, N., The New Urban Frontier, Gentrification and the Revanchist City, New York:
Routledge, 1996b.
Smith, N., “New Globalism, New Urbanism: Gentrification as Global Strategy,”
Antipode 34.3, 2002, 427-450.
Stoddart, D., “Darwin’s Impact on Geography,” in Stoddart, On Geography. Oxford:
Basil Blackwell, 1981, 158-179.
Monday, October 30, 2006
I'M KURT THOMAS BITCH
Suns.com: You seem to really be enjoying yourself up here, walking around watching some kids play in their championship games before camp closes out. How has the experience been for you?
Suns center Kurt Thomas: It’s great, it’s my first time up here and I’m really enjoying seeing these kids competing, going against one another and having fun. Looks like we’ve got a great turnout, the kids are excited and the parents are real happy; I’m just glad to be here.
Suns.com: Have you had the opportunity to participate in camps like this in the past?
Thomas: I’ve done some camp before but this is my first time in Arizona. I’ve done some in Dallas and all over the New York area.
Suns.com: Watching all these younger guys playing the game of basketball must make you even more anxious to return to the hardwood yourself. How’s the rehab coming along?
Thomas: Rehab's been great. My foot’s feeling fine, I’ve had a good summer working out and I’m looking forward to training camp.
Suns.com: Last offseason the Suns made a big offseason splash when they acquired you in a deal on draft night. This year the buzz seems to be surrounding newcomer Marcus Banks. What do you feel the former Timberwolves guard will bring to the table here in Phoenix?
Thomas: He’s a solid point guard who can really push the ball up and down the floor to help make our team even more exciting than what it is already.
Suns.com: The team goal for next season is obviously bringing Phoenix its first NBA Championship. What goals have you set for yourself personally?
Thomas: I just want to finish off the season. I want to have a full season under my belt in a Phoenix Suns uniform being injury free.
Later on that evening....
But right now, Thomas is the starting center. And after hitting nine of 12 shots from the field against the Sonics, his recovery from a stress fracture that ended his season last February appears complete.
“I’ve felt good from the beginning,” he said. “I had a good offseason. I rested my body, got my weight down (to about 235), and I came here prepared. It took me time to adjust, but now I love this system, love playing with these guys and I know my way around the city.”
I AM KURT THOMAS BITCH!
FEAR ME
KNOW THAT ANYTHING I DROP IS GOD
MY REBOUNDING IS BETTER THAN THE ATLAS MOUNTAINS
EAT A CHEESE SANDWICH AND CALL IT DAY
CUZ YOU STEP TO ME, I'LL LEAVE YOU DEAD LIKE MARVIN GAYE
PULL DOWN YOUR PANTS ON THE JUMP BALL
I CRACKED A REF'S NECK CAUSE I DIDNT LIKE HIS CALL
MY EYES ARE CROSSED LIKE RUPAUL'S GENDER
I BARBECUED KEVIN MCHALES CROTCH AND DRANK IT FROM A BLENDER
DEATH TO THE WESTERN CONFERENCE, I AM THE REBOUND KING
STEP INTO MY RING ILL GIVE YOU SCORPION DEATHLOCK LIKE STING
I AM THE UNSTOPPABLE, OMNIPRESENT, OMINIPOTENT, ALL-POWERFUL, OMEGA, SUPREME, KILLED YOUR DADDY'S DADDY, PUSSY WRECKING, STRETCHER OF ASSHOLES, HUMILIATOR, TERMINATOR FROM THE FUTURE, MACK DADDY EXTRAORDINAIRE, LEAVE YOU WITH SHIT ON YOUR FACE, FUCKED YOUR SISTER IN THE CUNT ASS AND MOUTH, YOU ARE REALLY GETTTING ON MY TITS
I AM KURT THOMAS BITCH
I WENT GORILLA STYLE ON YOUR GIRL AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAH
Suns center Kurt Thomas: It’s great, it’s my first time up here and I’m really enjoying seeing these kids competing, going against one another and having fun. Looks like we’ve got a great turnout, the kids are excited and the parents are real happy; I’m just glad to be here.
Suns.com: Have you had the opportunity to participate in camps like this in the past?
Thomas: I’ve done some camp before but this is my first time in Arizona. I’ve done some in Dallas and all over the New York area.
Suns.com: Watching all these younger guys playing the game of basketball must make you even more anxious to return to the hardwood yourself. How’s the rehab coming along?
Thomas: Rehab's been great. My foot’s feeling fine, I’ve had a good summer working out and I’m looking forward to training camp.
Suns.com: Last offseason the Suns made a big offseason splash when they acquired you in a deal on draft night. This year the buzz seems to be surrounding newcomer Marcus Banks. What do you feel the former Timberwolves guard will bring to the table here in Phoenix?
Thomas: He’s a solid point guard who can really push the ball up and down the floor to help make our team even more exciting than what it is already.
Suns.com: The team goal for next season is obviously bringing Phoenix its first NBA Championship. What goals have you set for yourself personally?
Thomas: I just want to finish off the season. I want to have a full season under my belt in a Phoenix Suns uniform being injury free.
Later on that evening....
But right now, Thomas is the starting center. And after hitting nine of 12 shots from the field against the Sonics, his recovery from a stress fracture that ended his season last February appears complete.
“I’ve felt good from the beginning,” he said. “I had a good offseason. I rested my body, got my weight down (to about 235), and I came here prepared. It took me time to adjust, but now I love this system, love playing with these guys and I know my way around the city.”
I AM KURT THOMAS BITCH!
FEAR ME
KNOW THAT ANYTHING I DROP IS GOD
MY REBOUNDING IS BETTER THAN THE ATLAS MOUNTAINS
EAT A CHEESE SANDWICH AND CALL IT DAY
CUZ YOU STEP TO ME, I'LL LEAVE YOU DEAD LIKE MARVIN GAYE
PULL DOWN YOUR PANTS ON THE JUMP BALL
I CRACKED A REF'S NECK CAUSE I DIDNT LIKE HIS CALL
MY EYES ARE CROSSED LIKE RUPAUL'S GENDER
I BARBECUED KEVIN MCHALES CROTCH AND DRANK IT FROM A BLENDER
DEATH TO THE WESTERN CONFERENCE, I AM THE REBOUND KING
STEP INTO MY RING ILL GIVE YOU SCORPION DEATHLOCK LIKE STING
I AM THE UNSTOPPABLE, OMNIPRESENT, OMINIPOTENT, ALL-POWERFUL, OMEGA, SUPREME, KILLED YOUR DADDY'S DADDY, PUSSY WRECKING, STRETCHER OF ASSHOLES, HUMILIATOR, TERMINATOR FROM THE FUTURE, MACK DADDY EXTRAORDINAIRE, LEAVE YOU WITH SHIT ON YOUR FACE, FUCKED YOUR SISTER IN THE CUNT ASS AND MOUTH, YOU ARE REALLY GETTTING ON MY TITS
I AM KURT THOMAS BITCH
I WENT GORILLA STYLE ON YOUR GIRL AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAH
Friday, October 13, 2006
Bronson
Charles Bronson... Wait, what did you say? You like Charles Bronson? How could you like him? Okay, instead of going into a Mike Dodes-inspired monlogue(fuck, shit, fuckn, waiting for the bus, a Vietnam vet, Vanderbilt will have to elaborate) (Editor Elaboration: He was some kid in college who did a strange monologue about a Vietnam Vet where he just cursed a lot and ran his fingers through his hair and pantomimed smoking a cigarette. He also plays MMORPG's. I think he's a wizard), but yeah Bronson, the characters he's played, are quite ludicrous. He spent a lifetime portraying men who are teflon not only on the outside, but on the inside as well. He challenged the way we view the elderly... Wait not really.
Unfortunately, I must make a departure from the pro-Bronson propaganda I have been spitting. Whether a rural cowboy or a western cowboy, the distinctions are interesting. He made a career of slugging it to the other. Whether it be Native American (westerns), the urban poor (Death Wish), or deranged Mormons (Messenger of Death), Bronson was always socking it to someone not white and anglo-saxon. The course of Bronsons career is emblematic of Hollywood's construction of nature, the socially constructed natural, and second nature in the form of urbanity. There is a dialectic here constantly in tension (conceptions of space in the form of rural-urban, tribal-modernized, town-countryside). Bronsons movies are a perfect way of displaying this abstract concept of space tension into actual practice.
The West as we know it was wild at one time. It was untamed, or as I would say not homogenized into the capitalist mode of production as of yet. It was up to toughs such as Bronson to go out there and establish law, or annihilate space (previous modes of production) with their iron guns and iron attitudes. Please don't believe that manifest destiny was a uniquely American phenomenon, or connected to some religious great awakening. It was a phenomenon induced by capitals insatiable appetite for new markets, resources, and labor. It was necessary to subjugate and destroy Native American populations. It wasn't just the production of an Andrew Jackson style Indian massacare that fueled the center driven domination of the periphery, but rather it was the carrying out of these plans that ultimately produced this abstract space(the space of capitalism via Lefebrve).
Like artistic gentrifiers that would follow, men like the ones Bronson portrayed put a foothold into this untamed environment for capitalist production. It was wild out there, just like fires can actually be wild. Doesn't this say something about our view of nature. The western starter town is very much isolated. Nature is truly external here. It is also dangerous and unforgiving. Native Americans, who are conceptualized as part of this external Nature, are also part of the hazard. In this context Nature is viewed as something primordial. Presently, nature has now left the wild(beautiful and valued) and the city has now become the vacant space of lawlessness with Indians being replaced by street thugs. The savage on the horse, has been replaced by the Duke of New York's caddy(Escape from New York).
Similarly, in Death Wish 3, and Kinjite, Bronson is now facing a new harsh environment. One in which his wife and daughter are either killed, or molested by hordes of similarly looking Japanese business men. Bronson now comes back as vigilante outlaw (Death Wish), or sheriff who isn't afraid to work outside the system (Kinjite), to enact some kind of Hammurabian notion of justice. In fact, the last lines in Kinjite, are by Lt. Kroll, Bronsons character. He confidently exclaims, "That's justice(!)". Now, instead of going to the the space known as high noon and fighting a villain to the death in a duel, Bronson makes 'that shitbag Duke' eat a watch. He also blows up his expensive car, and eventually facilitates him getting raped by faceless homosexual prisoners.
Bronson is justified in anything he does in this context. He is protected by this seemingly transparent notion of what is right and wrong. He is now bringing order to Kool Moe Dee's Wild Wild West(Los Angeles) by any means possible.
Bronson is a truly Reagan-era style hero. Bronson's characters are situated in a world where persons are inherently evil. Their station in life, their poverty, their propensity to commit crimes, is not bourne out of the inadequacies of the market system, but because they are socially deviant people. Their absence of middle class values is not attributed to poverty. What is portrayed is quite the opposite. One of the primary themes that underpins these movies is a justification for rolling back Keynesian economic policies. Something that Reagan, Bush, and Clinton were quite good at.
This relational space of the inner city is of primary interest to me. These films are produced to buttress the ideology of people who already believe that the inner city has turned into a wilderness. They took an integral part in the disinvestment of neighborhoods, yet they are somehow surpised the city has turned into a 'bad' place. Of course this isn't only a class issue. This problem of conceptualization is deeply connected with race.
In one of Bronson's diatribes pertaining to the Japanese yellow horde he complains that immigrants are taking what he and his partner have worked so hard for. Yes, very amusing. These movies, like 90 percent of the media, including shows like Mind of Mencia and Chappelle's Show, consciously or unconsciously seek to further rupture the proletariat.
I personally believe that the reserve army of the ghetto has lost significance. The new reserve army is the population of Mexico.
Anyway, these are some random thoughts, no research, just off dome. Plus I really didn't expound this shift from the West to the urban frontier through Bronson like I planned. Perhaps in the future...
Unfortunately, I must make a departure from the pro-Bronson propaganda I have been spitting. Whether a rural cowboy or a western cowboy, the distinctions are interesting. He made a career of slugging it to the other. Whether it be Native American (westerns), the urban poor (Death Wish), or deranged Mormons (Messenger of Death), Bronson was always socking it to someone not white and anglo-saxon. The course of Bronsons career is emblematic of Hollywood's construction of nature, the socially constructed natural, and second nature in the form of urbanity. There is a dialectic here constantly in tension (conceptions of space in the form of rural-urban, tribal-modernized, town-countryside). Bronsons movies are a perfect way of displaying this abstract concept of space tension into actual practice.
The West as we know it was wild at one time. It was untamed, or as I would say not homogenized into the capitalist mode of production as of yet. It was up to toughs such as Bronson to go out there and establish law, or annihilate space (previous modes of production) with their iron guns and iron attitudes. Please don't believe that manifest destiny was a uniquely American phenomenon, or connected to some religious great awakening. It was a phenomenon induced by capitals insatiable appetite for new markets, resources, and labor. It was necessary to subjugate and destroy Native American populations. It wasn't just the production of an Andrew Jackson style Indian massacare that fueled the center driven domination of the periphery, but rather it was the carrying out of these plans that ultimately produced this abstract space(the space of capitalism via Lefebrve).
Like artistic gentrifiers that would follow, men like the ones Bronson portrayed put a foothold into this untamed environment for capitalist production. It was wild out there, just like fires can actually be wild. Doesn't this say something about our view of nature. The western starter town is very much isolated. Nature is truly external here. It is also dangerous and unforgiving. Native Americans, who are conceptualized as part of this external Nature, are also part of the hazard. In this context Nature is viewed as something primordial. Presently, nature has now left the wild(beautiful and valued) and the city has now become the vacant space of lawlessness with Indians being replaced by street thugs. The savage on the horse, has been replaced by the Duke of New York's caddy(Escape from New York).
Similarly, in Death Wish 3, and Kinjite, Bronson is now facing a new harsh environment. One in which his wife and daughter are either killed, or molested by hordes of similarly looking Japanese business men. Bronson now comes back as vigilante outlaw (Death Wish), or sheriff who isn't afraid to work outside the system (Kinjite), to enact some kind of Hammurabian notion of justice. In fact, the last lines in Kinjite, are by Lt. Kroll, Bronsons character. He confidently exclaims, "That's justice(!)". Now, instead of going to the the space known as high noon and fighting a villain to the death in a duel, Bronson makes 'that shitbag Duke' eat a watch. He also blows up his expensive car, and eventually facilitates him getting raped by faceless homosexual prisoners.
Bronson is justified in anything he does in this context. He is protected by this seemingly transparent notion of what is right and wrong. He is now bringing order to Kool Moe Dee's Wild Wild West(Los Angeles) by any means possible.
Bronson is a truly Reagan-era style hero. Bronson's characters are situated in a world where persons are inherently evil. Their station in life, their poverty, their propensity to commit crimes, is not bourne out of the inadequacies of the market system, but because they are socially deviant people. Their absence of middle class values is not attributed to poverty. What is portrayed is quite the opposite. One of the primary themes that underpins these movies is a justification for rolling back Keynesian economic policies. Something that Reagan, Bush, and Clinton were quite good at.
This relational space of the inner city is of primary interest to me. These films are produced to buttress the ideology of people who already believe that the inner city has turned into a wilderness. They took an integral part in the disinvestment of neighborhoods, yet they are somehow surpised the city has turned into a 'bad' place. Of course this isn't only a class issue. This problem of conceptualization is deeply connected with race.
In one of Bronson's diatribes pertaining to the Japanese yellow horde he complains that immigrants are taking what he and his partner have worked so hard for. Yes, very amusing. These movies, like 90 percent of the media, including shows like Mind of Mencia and Chappelle's Show, consciously or unconsciously seek to further rupture the proletariat.
I personally believe that the reserve army of the ghetto has lost significance. The new reserve army is the population of Mexico.
Anyway, these are some random thoughts, no research, just off dome. Plus I really didn't expound this shift from the West to the urban frontier through Bronson like I planned. Perhaps in the future...
Monday, October 02, 2006
readings
These are the last sentences of an article I just read,
"And here lies the challenge for urban ethnographers: to demonstrate that they can apply the method without lapsing into a fatal reductionism. I have one admonition as they go forward: Watch your petards!
I had never heard this word, but I got it from context earlier. I found this funny. I am a nerd... Atleast I still have to mind frame to admit this. Soon this may be gone...
"And here lies the challenge for urban ethnographers: to demonstrate that they can apply the method without lapsing into a fatal reductionism. I have one admonition as they go forward: Watch your petards!
I had never heard this word, but I got it from context earlier. I found this funny. I am a nerd... Atleast I still have to mind frame to admit this. Soon this may be gone...
Sunday, October 01, 2006
unorganized Marxist ramblings
Why do we make decisions? I primarily speak of the important ones. For example, what school will we go to? What job will we take? Well... hold on, why are these decisions important. Why is the question that you and I ask when we first meet people. It is laughable, when you think about it. A pick up line I often spit is, "so what do you do". Is these the essence of our lives? Has it come to the point, that our activities of reproduction, (that is essentially what drives our lives outside of being exploited by wage labor), are insignificant?
Ask any elder, and most younger than you, how the wage and the discipline of wage labor is. I throw the word wage in this equation, because simply, this is the kind of labor we participate in on our jobs. While I write this piece, I am laboring on my own accord. My tool is the keyboard, i guess the envi is my environment. This is not to say I am not completely alienated from the means I choose to produce this document. The computer screen confounds. Maybe, through some magical bullet equation we can know where the parts for this computer and who labored on them. But how about the intellectual property of the page I am viewing. These have been produced by some labor, but my screen is covered in seemeingly untracable elements.
Alas, I have gotten off topic. I am told everyday that I need to prepare to compete in a global notion. I reject this notion. I refuse to be alienated from makes me human, which Marx said was the manipulation of earth with labor. To view people strictly as commodities may be extreme. People are not purely their occupations. However, when we use langauge such as this, we much sell ourselves as employees. We have created a culture in which, is not only acceptable to fundamentally exploit people for our labor, but we are encourage to degrade ourselves in such an occasion into slave wage labor. There is certainly a mysticism assocaited with the wage labor/slave labor. Without getting to far into it, the difference here is the conceptualization of a human being as a commodity. The slave was recognized in the context of political economy as a commodity. We see that the slave was merely chattel or property. The owner (not always a capitalist) did not pay his slave, instead he (most slave owners were men) was responsible for the slaves reproduction. (Keeping him alive). shit man, I got off task, I will elobarte this point later. Also to be discussed, the media as social control, and the myth of the american dream...
Ask any elder, and most younger than you, how the wage and the discipline of wage labor is. I throw the word wage in this equation, because simply, this is the kind of labor we participate in on our jobs. While I write this piece, I am laboring on my own accord. My tool is the keyboard, i guess the envi is my environment. This is not to say I am not completely alienated from the means I choose to produce this document. The computer screen confounds. Maybe, through some magical bullet equation we can know where the parts for this computer and who labored on them. But how about the intellectual property of the page I am viewing. These have been produced by some labor, but my screen is covered in seemeingly untracable elements.
Alas, I have gotten off topic. I am told everyday that I need to prepare to compete in a global notion. I reject this notion. I refuse to be alienated from makes me human, which Marx said was the manipulation of earth with labor. To view people strictly as commodities may be extreme. People are not purely their occupations. However, when we use langauge such as this, we much sell ourselves as employees. We have created a culture in which, is not only acceptable to fundamentally exploit people for our labor, but we are encourage to degrade ourselves in such an occasion into slave wage labor. There is certainly a mysticism assocaited with the wage labor/slave labor. Without getting to far into it, the difference here is the conceptualization of a human being as a commodity. The slave was recognized in the context of political economy as a commodity. We see that the slave was merely chattel or property. The owner (not always a capitalist) did not pay his slave, instead he (most slave owners were men) was responsible for the slaves reproduction. (Keeping him alive). shit man, I got off task, I will elobarte this point later. Also to be discussed, the media as social control, and the myth of the american dream...
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
The end of time and space
Read the title. Read it aloud. It doesn't make sense, does it? Neither can really end, can they? Many said that the invention of the locomotive effectively blotted out a nascent industrial culture's conception of space. Other's would point to the similarity of air ports, on a international level. You leave one airport and you arrive in another. The language has changed, but the shops are still there. The name is different, but the news stand still has flawless tiers of magazines arranged by interest. The increasing fluidity of capital and labor (sometimes known as globalization; A U.S. driven international capitalism) has bulldozed discrepancies not only between modes of reproduction, but cultures as well. There is an international hatred for the American government, however cultural imperialism has taken its course. Coke is not 'our' culture, it is everyone's. To summarize, space and time seems to have ended because of advanced transportation technology and the bland commodification of everything.
I didn't come to lecture, but instead to describe a recurring daily experience I have been having for the last week. I ride the subway everyday. On Friday, I rode in public transportation for close to five hours that day. I had purpose, it wasn't just for exploration.
Maps make us believe that we can accurately conceptualize space. It really is an endemic quality to humans. I have seen many 'natural wonders'. Tall mountains, large Valleys, gargantuan oceans, but nothing amazes me like this man built network of tunnels. A whole world built beneath the city. If the city is second nature, is this third? Is that possible?
I think of all the people who wait on these platforms. Most of them are working people. Rich people really don't take public transportation. That is what the statistics show anyway. I ride the train with dark, friendly, and understanding faces. The universal respect of the subway is evident, or so it seems.
Why doesn't the city make a map of the subway telling us which trains go to poor neighborhoods. Where the slapped together stucco called public housing is. Then a map of the ethnicity of riders. I would love to overlay them on a map (I am so human), and publish the results.
Anyway, the underground is damn near congruent throughout. Shouldn't it be? Don't conflate this post with somekind of personal revelation, but sometimes it feels like I could be riding to nowhere. My cardinal direction skills, (which are not too great in the first place), are knocked for a loop. What is north? What is south? Directions lose their purpose. The water or other landmarks become non existent. The sun, forget it. My cell phone stops working. I rely on a message in the train posted in red, and a quite pleasant voice whispering in my ear, that this is a southbound express train.
The subway really epitomizes function over form, and to be honest, I love it.
I didn't come to lecture, but instead to describe a recurring daily experience I have been having for the last week. I ride the subway everyday. On Friday, I rode in public transportation for close to five hours that day. I had purpose, it wasn't just for exploration.
Maps make us believe that we can accurately conceptualize space. It really is an endemic quality to humans. I have seen many 'natural wonders'. Tall mountains, large Valleys, gargantuan oceans, but nothing amazes me like this man built network of tunnels. A whole world built beneath the city. If the city is second nature, is this third? Is that possible?
I think of all the people who wait on these platforms. Most of them are working people. Rich people really don't take public transportation. That is what the statistics show anyway. I ride the train with dark, friendly, and understanding faces. The universal respect of the subway is evident, or so it seems.
Why doesn't the city make a map of the subway telling us which trains go to poor neighborhoods. Where the slapped together stucco called public housing is. Then a map of the ethnicity of riders. I would love to overlay them on a map (I am so human), and publish the results.
Anyway, the underground is damn near congruent throughout. Shouldn't it be? Don't conflate this post with somekind of personal revelation, but sometimes it feels like I could be riding to nowhere. My cardinal direction skills, (which are not too great in the first place), are knocked for a loop. What is north? What is south? Directions lose their purpose. The water or other landmarks become non existent. The sun, forget it. My cell phone stops working. I rely on a message in the train posted in red, and a quite pleasant voice whispering in my ear, that this is a southbound express train.
The subway really epitomizes function over form, and to be honest, I love it.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
shitface has a dream that one day...
Definitions for phrases/acronyms that may be used in this document:
BPJ: Banana Peel Juk- The process by which one uses a banana peel as a masturbatory aid
SWF- Sopping Wet Furney- Describes the state of a woman whose furney (vaginal area) is sopping wet.
I have a had a problem lately getting SWF lately. The sad thing is I don't care. I have other ambitions now. Think about how much you could get accomplished, if you quit the endless pursuit of SWF. Now, I concentrate on achieving other goals, the kind that make or break a man. Some prefer to hike mountains, learn how to play a musical instrument, or play video games until they are sexually aroused by the thought of losing to the computer.
I, on the other hand have transcended all of these petty annoyances and now concentrate on doing something only few others have done. No, it's not the BPJ, though I have been actively participating in this process over the last couple of months. No, not video games and baseball cards. This Feat goes beyond collection. It doesn't involve reading, eating right, or getting exercise (for the most part).
Ok give up? Here's my plan!
It will be a Friday, or a Saturday, right, and I'll wake up late in the morning. I start the day by unsettling my stomach. Many nuts and chocolate items will be consumed. I'll probably use the bowl a couple of times, but not too much. As the day rolls on I will eat some stewed prunes and 15 dollars worth of taco bell food. The stomach gods will become angered and Posiden's trident will rapidly strike the insides of my intestines.
It's party time. On this particular day my friend will be having a house party. The kind where girls from his work come and are looking to drink alot. I will start talking to the girl with the lowest self esteem and the worst couth in the place. She will preferably be loud and obnoxious.
Her friends will abandon her and I will get her drunk to the point of alcohol poisoning. I will be incredibly friendly, doing the best I can considering I am in pain from the taco bell. She will pass out in my friend's house. I will then proceed to leave a note in her pocket telling her I will be right back and that my stomach is bothering me. Ahhh the truth. I will instruct my friends to go by the story, that she stammered out shortly after yelling obscenities.
This is where my plan will spring into action. I will eat half a bag of dried fruit in three minutes, eat half a box of All-Bran extra fiber, choke down some milk of magnesia, and then drink a barium milk shake. I will then proceed to take a lap around the nearest track with a very tight belt tied around my waste. I will be in much pain at this point. This is where mental discipline must and will take over.
While I am getting ready, this near alcohol poisoned, passed out, girl will be placed in the middle of an open space, maybe under some bleachers at the school I am running a lap at. This is where all my delicate planning and flawless execution will pay off. This is the 'bigger' thing I referred to in the introductory paragraph. Remember? The thing that is superior to the 'the pursuit of SWF'
I will proceed to drop my drawers and squat over this young lady's face. I will relish the moment and contemplate my journey. Finally, I will open my sphincter and let loose a volume of excrement reminiscent of the floods that occurred in Superman one before Superman reversed time. After I have finished, I will run for my life. This will be the pinnacle of my existence and I dare anyone to debate otherwise. Not having wiped, I will run for my life jumping and crying. Victory will finally be mine....
Now you may ask, what about the young woman? She is going to eventually wake up covered in shit. There are a couple of things to remember. The girl's friends did abandon her, you did specifically pick her out because she had low self esteem. Also, who would admit that? Something as humiliating as that. Could you take someone seriously who got shit on like that in the middle of a field. I don't think so. I mean, you may put that on the resume of the job interview for some fetish film, but the bottom line is, it's not a great experience.
So tonight, I Shitface Mcstevens, will prey to god (Darrel Hammond), and hope hope hope that one day I will be given the opportunity to unpack my glorious plan...
BPJ: Banana Peel Juk- The process by which one uses a banana peel as a masturbatory aid
SWF- Sopping Wet Furney- Describes the state of a woman whose furney (vaginal area) is sopping wet.
I have a had a problem lately getting SWF lately. The sad thing is I don't care. I have other ambitions now. Think about how much you could get accomplished, if you quit the endless pursuit of SWF. Now, I concentrate on achieving other goals, the kind that make or break a man. Some prefer to hike mountains, learn how to play a musical instrument, or play video games until they are sexually aroused by the thought of losing to the computer.
I, on the other hand have transcended all of these petty annoyances and now concentrate on doing something only few others have done. No, it's not the BPJ, though I have been actively participating in this process over the last couple of months. No, not video games and baseball cards. This Feat goes beyond collection. It doesn't involve reading, eating right, or getting exercise (for the most part).
Ok give up? Here's my plan!
It will be a Friday, or a Saturday, right, and I'll wake up late in the morning. I start the day by unsettling my stomach. Many nuts and chocolate items will be consumed. I'll probably use the bowl a couple of times, but not too much. As the day rolls on I will eat some stewed prunes and 15 dollars worth of taco bell food. The stomach gods will become angered and Posiden's trident will rapidly strike the insides of my intestines.
It's party time. On this particular day my friend will be having a house party. The kind where girls from his work come and are looking to drink alot. I will start talking to the girl with the lowest self esteem and the worst couth in the place. She will preferably be loud and obnoxious.
Her friends will abandon her and I will get her drunk to the point of alcohol poisoning. I will be incredibly friendly, doing the best I can considering I am in pain from the taco bell. She will pass out in my friend's house. I will then proceed to leave a note in her pocket telling her I will be right back and that my stomach is bothering me. Ahhh the truth. I will instruct my friends to go by the story, that she stammered out shortly after yelling obscenities.
This is where my plan will spring into action. I will eat half a bag of dried fruit in three minutes, eat half a box of All-Bran extra fiber, choke down some milk of magnesia, and then drink a barium milk shake. I will then proceed to take a lap around the nearest track with a very tight belt tied around my waste. I will be in much pain at this point. This is where mental discipline must and will take over.
While I am getting ready, this near alcohol poisoned, passed out, girl will be placed in the middle of an open space, maybe under some bleachers at the school I am running a lap at. This is where all my delicate planning and flawless execution will pay off. This is the 'bigger' thing I referred to in the introductory paragraph. Remember? The thing that is superior to the 'the pursuit of SWF'
I will proceed to drop my drawers and squat over this young lady's face. I will relish the moment and contemplate my journey. Finally, I will open my sphincter and let loose a volume of excrement reminiscent of the floods that occurred in Superman one before Superman reversed time. After I have finished, I will run for my life. This will be the pinnacle of my existence and I dare anyone to debate otherwise. Not having wiped, I will run for my life jumping and crying. Victory will finally be mine....
Now you may ask, what about the young woman? She is going to eventually wake up covered in shit. There are a couple of things to remember. The girl's friends did abandon her, you did specifically pick her out because she had low self esteem. Also, who would admit that? Something as humiliating as that. Could you take someone seriously who got shit on like that in the middle of a field. I don't think so. I mean, you may put that on the resume of the job interview for some fetish film, but the bottom line is, it's not a great experience.
So tonight, I Shitface Mcstevens, will prey to god (Darrel Hammond), and hope hope hope that one day I will be given the opportunity to unpack my glorious plan...
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Choose your own adventure
Yes, I was quite fascinated by Vanderbilt's idea. I willgive you a watered down, less well written, unoriginal account of Vanderibilt's already borrowed theme.* Read at you own risk.**
*There actually may be references paralleling the 'real' choose your own adventure
** I don't feel the need to preface the story, or construct any kind of plot. This is because I don't know what the word means.
You find yourself in the a strange city. Some people speak English, and some other language. It could be El Paso, Prague, or Manila. You are ignorant to culture or racial markers.
Do you find the nearest pornographer and converse with him, try to find a newspaper Marty Mcfly style, or try to figure it out yourself, even though you know absolutely nothing.
You happen to be a stubborn chap searching for adventure. You wander the mews, avenues, boulevards, and the like. Your legs are tired, but your loins are not. A woman dressed in a business suit smiles at you. She has a crooked tooth, but you like those kind of flaws.
Do you ask her, "how much to take me around the world Magellan style?", ignore your primal instincts and eat some kind of sandwich, do what you usually do, and buy a loaf of Italian bread and a tub of margerine
See normally you would take the last choice, however, you are in a strange city, no one knows you. You proposition this not so young lady. She looks at you puzzled, like you got mustard on your sweater vest.
Do you, repeat the question, run away, push her down and run away
Well C'mon, you don't want her following you. She doesn't fall down because you are a weakling. You kick the prospective presser of charges in the shins, and take four lefts. Shit! You are back where you started. The women is waiting, quite astutely, for an explanation. You happen to be smooth*, so you approach her casusally to work it out.
*You are not, nor will you ever be
Do you profusely apologize, and make up an excuse, Give her a clothesline (from hell) , Make sweet, sweet, love, to a sweet, sweet, sausage
Uh oh. No good choices there. You unlogically refrain from violence and sexual acts. She's waiting for an explanation. You start stroking the piece to insinuate what you want. It's pretty surreal, even for you. The snaggle tooth whore pretends to walk away. You almost fall for it. She says, "80, that's how much it costs" You stroke your chin and say sure. Uh Oh! You don't have any money. Maybe you can pay her in orgasms, 80 of them.
Do you play it cool, and act like you are the real McCoy, Pplitely tell her you are not interested, eat an ice cream sandwich
You are partial to ice cream sandwiches, but your piece is on fire. You need to put it out. Your doctor told you that you are allergic to blue balls. It could kill you. You make the logical choice and follow her. She walks quite confidently towards an unknown destination. You pass, an 'adult' kiosk. Aha! It's not even a choice, you follow your unlikely hostess. After about an hour and a half you are walking on the side of a service road in a post industrial paradise.
Do you, see if the kiosk is still open, force the issue, keep walking
You felt some audacity, but you lost it. You keep on walking. You get to a cliff. She's got Leonardo wings, you got nothing. She jumps off and falls to her death.
Do you, follow suit, find a safer way down and collect the dead body, or walk back to where you started and utilize the Marty McFly method.
TURN TO P. 48 for your fate!
*There actually may be references paralleling the 'real' choose your own adventure
** I don't feel the need to preface the story, or construct any kind of plot. This is because I don't know what the word means.
You find yourself in the a strange city. Some people speak English, and some other language. It could be El Paso, Prague, or Manila. You are ignorant to culture or racial markers.
Do you find the nearest pornographer and converse with him, try to find a newspaper Marty Mcfly style, or try to figure it out yourself, even though you know absolutely nothing.
You happen to be a stubborn chap searching for adventure. You wander the mews, avenues, boulevards, and the like. Your legs are tired, but your loins are not. A woman dressed in a business suit smiles at you. She has a crooked tooth, but you like those kind of flaws.
Do you ask her, "how much to take me around the world Magellan style?", ignore your primal instincts and eat some kind of sandwich, do what you usually do, and buy a loaf of Italian bread and a tub of margerine
See normally you would take the last choice, however, you are in a strange city, no one knows you. You proposition this not so young lady. She looks at you puzzled, like you got mustard on your sweater vest.
Do you, repeat the question, run away, push her down and run away
Well C'mon, you don't want her following you. She doesn't fall down because you are a weakling. You kick the prospective presser of charges in the shins, and take four lefts. Shit! You are back where you started. The women is waiting, quite astutely, for an explanation. You happen to be smooth*, so you approach her casusally to work it out.
*You are not, nor will you ever be
Do you profusely apologize, and make up an excuse, Give her a clothesline (from hell) , Make sweet, sweet, love, to a sweet, sweet, sausage
Uh oh. No good choices there. You unlogically refrain from violence and sexual acts. She's waiting for an explanation. You start stroking the piece to insinuate what you want. It's pretty surreal, even for you. The snaggle tooth whore pretends to walk away. You almost fall for it. She says, "80, that's how much it costs" You stroke your chin and say sure. Uh Oh! You don't have any money. Maybe you can pay her in orgasms, 80 of them.
Do you play it cool, and act like you are the real McCoy, Pplitely tell her you are not interested, eat an ice cream sandwich
You are partial to ice cream sandwiches, but your piece is on fire. You need to put it out. Your doctor told you that you are allergic to blue balls. It could kill you. You make the logical choice and follow her. She walks quite confidently towards an unknown destination. You pass, an 'adult' kiosk. Aha! It's not even a choice, you follow your unlikely hostess. After about an hour and a half you are walking on the side of a service road in a post industrial paradise.
Do you, see if the kiosk is still open, force the issue, keep walking
You felt some audacity, but you lost it. You keep on walking. You get to a cliff. She's got Leonardo wings, you got nothing. She jumps off and falls to her death.
Do you, follow suit, find a safer way down and collect the dead body, or walk back to where you started and utilize the Marty McFly method.
TURN TO P. 48 for your fate!
Monday, May 01, 2006
off dome pt. ?
Me name be shitface so swim in my spit
I borrow money from you and my name is split
Taped a banana in my pants to get you girl erogenous
Disrespected Lance Armstrong just to prove a hypothesis
We took drugs and tried to have a ball
I pushed you off the cliff and told you I would see you next fall
But this aint cartoonery you aint homer on skate board
I got hungry and ate Donkey Kong's entire banana hoard
The bran provided
got me excited
didn't have the strength to walk so I astroglided
over the Atlantic rocking a purple hat with gold crescent moons
I watch fantasia six times every third June
if you get my logical chain
you might have a decent sized brain
used for barter, I shit on the formal economy
I gave your girl a lobotomy
so now she sucks it abominablely
That means dissatisfaction, like the cheese on the floor
while heads snore
my golden liquid I pour
in your acne medication, you've never felt such a sensation
I gave you anal relations
using a sausage casing
It didn't keep the seamen in, but it sure tasted tasty
Get out and run miles so your guts not white and pasty
I win on the battlefield, go crawl back to Asia Minor
I wont hold on to your piece like my name was Ernest byner
its all you get for now so wipe with your hand
while you dance the horah to Ernest p whirls band
I borrow money from you and my name is split
Taped a banana in my pants to get you girl erogenous
Disrespected Lance Armstrong just to prove a hypothesis
We took drugs and tried to have a ball
I pushed you off the cliff and told you I would see you next fall
But this aint cartoonery you aint homer on skate board
I got hungry and ate Donkey Kong's entire banana hoard
The bran provided
got me excited
didn't have the strength to walk so I astroglided
over the Atlantic rocking a purple hat with gold crescent moons
I watch fantasia six times every third June
if you get my logical chain
you might have a decent sized brain
used for barter, I shit on the formal economy
I gave your girl a lobotomy
so now she sucks it abominablely
That means dissatisfaction, like the cheese on the floor
while heads snore
my golden liquid I pour
in your acne medication, you've never felt such a sensation
I gave you anal relations
using a sausage casing
It didn't keep the seamen in, but it sure tasted tasty
Get out and run miles so your guts not white and pasty
I win on the battlefield, go crawl back to Asia Minor
I wont hold on to your piece like my name was Ernest byner
its all you get for now so wipe with your hand
while you dance the horah to Ernest p whirls band
Sunday, April 23, 2006
this weekend
Vandy and I made up this weekend! So I was in a certain tournament, a video game tournament. Well... let me set this up...
So I'm in the middle of this custody battle, right. About 4 years ago, right, I made a little shitface, right.
Now, it is my custom to have sex with a girl, right, 'and never call her back'. That's my steeze, right? I am a scumbag. Unfortunately, this one chick got pregnant, and she happened to be an associate of my cousin, right, Samantha scumbag, right. Just so you don't get it twisted, right, this whore and I made a kid in 2002.
For some reason, right, she absolved me from any financial responsibiliites, right. I was relieved, right, let me tell you, right. She said, "Shitface, I don't want my kid to know a shitface like yourself, right. Please take yourself out of my son's life, right, and your scumbag tainted money, right." JACKPOT, or so I thought, right.
During the last year sometime, right, little Shitface's momma choked to death, right, on the dick of yours truly, right. A custody battle followed these events, right. As what I think was revenge, right, she legally placed me in custody of 'our' child, right. I showed the courts , right, I was clearly unfit to be a father, right, being that I am quite a shitface, right. Logically, right, the late dick choker's father, right, would take over as the legal guardian, right. Unfortunately, it never worked out like that, right. We had a contest of scumbaggery to determine who was less fit to be, right, a parent, right. Unfortunately, right, this ended in a stale mate, right.
There was only one way out right right right right.... I needed the money to pay this dude off so he wouldn't force this shitface on me, right. He set his price, right, it was grand indeed, right. There was only one way to win the sum, right. I entered a marvel vs. capcom 2 tournament, right (A video game featuring comic book characters fighting video game characters). IT WAS A DOUBLE ELIMINATION TOURNAMENT!!! I went to my local gambling spot and placed my life earnings on my performance in this tournament right, IT WAS A DOUBLE ELIMINATION TOURNAMENT.
I was doing great, right. They were playing the theme song to the Delta Force, right (See Chuck Norris), and I was comboing like a mad man, right. All of sudden, right, I got a stomach cramp from eating too much bran, right. Hey a shitface gotta shit, right. I lost to some punk who had no skills, right. My spirits were down, right. So, I digoed a baked ham, and a turkey sandwich, right. I was ready to quit and take this shitface on, right, and then, the grandfather of little shitface made me an offer I couldn't refuse, right. He offered me a fully furbished right right right(arcade pizza and tokens) arcade, right, with all the 80's game I desired. I was like yes, I think I'll take it, right. Then the kid came out, right, and said something about eating, right. I said, "shit I didn't think, right, I had to feed this mother, right, fucka, right." And with that I stormed out, right, and did a, right, swan dive through a stained glass window, right, and continued with the tournament, right.
Fast forward to me in the finals, right, and this is where Vandy, right, stepped up his game, right, and showed what a true friend he really is, right,. I was down in the final ,right, match, right. I couldn't concentrate, right. This dude kept on spitting shit, right, about how clean I was, and how I could never pull this off, right.
At this moment, right, at my lowest of lows, right, Vandy come out of nowhere, right, and punched the perpetrator in the nuts, right, and proceeded to waft his man smell into my opponents, nose, right. No sooner that, it was over, right. I won the custody battle, right. I DON'T HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF THAT KID, right, and its all thanks to you Vandy, right. You are a true friend, right! Let's, right, eat, right, pizza, right, and, right, discuss, right, Solstice, right.
So I'm in the middle of this custody battle, right. About 4 years ago, right, I made a little shitface, right.
Now, it is my custom to have sex with a girl, right, 'and never call her back'. That's my steeze, right? I am a scumbag. Unfortunately, this one chick got pregnant, and she happened to be an associate of my cousin, right, Samantha scumbag, right. Just so you don't get it twisted, right, this whore and I made a kid in 2002.
For some reason, right, she absolved me from any financial responsibiliites, right. I was relieved, right, let me tell you, right. She said, "Shitface, I don't want my kid to know a shitface like yourself, right. Please take yourself out of my son's life, right, and your scumbag tainted money, right." JACKPOT, or so I thought, right.
During the last year sometime, right, little Shitface's momma choked to death, right, on the dick of yours truly, right. A custody battle followed these events, right. As what I think was revenge, right, she legally placed me in custody of 'our' child, right. I showed the courts , right, I was clearly unfit to be a father, right, being that I am quite a shitface, right. Logically, right, the late dick choker's father, right, would take over as the legal guardian, right. Unfortunately, it never worked out like that, right. We had a contest of scumbaggery to determine who was less fit to be, right, a parent, right. Unfortunately, right, this ended in a stale mate, right.
There was only one way out right right right right.... I needed the money to pay this dude off so he wouldn't force this shitface on me, right. He set his price, right, it was grand indeed, right. There was only one way to win the sum, right. I entered a marvel vs. capcom 2 tournament, right (A video game featuring comic book characters fighting video game characters). IT WAS A DOUBLE ELIMINATION TOURNAMENT!!! I went to my local gambling spot and placed my life earnings on my performance in this tournament right, IT WAS A DOUBLE ELIMINATION TOURNAMENT.
I was doing great, right. They were playing the theme song to the Delta Force, right (See Chuck Norris), and I was comboing like a mad man, right. All of sudden, right, I got a stomach cramp from eating too much bran, right. Hey a shitface gotta shit, right. I lost to some punk who had no skills, right. My spirits were down, right. So, I digoed a baked ham, and a turkey sandwich, right. I was ready to quit and take this shitface on, right, and then, the grandfather of little shitface made me an offer I couldn't refuse, right. He offered me a fully furbished right right right(arcade pizza and tokens) arcade, right, with all the 80's game I desired. I was like yes, I think I'll take it, right. Then the kid came out, right, and said something about eating, right. I said, "shit I didn't think, right, I had to feed this mother, right, fucka, right." And with that I stormed out, right, and did a, right, swan dive through a stained glass window, right, and continued with the tournament, right.
Fast forward to me in the finals, right, and this is where Vandy, right, stepped up his game, right, and showed what a true friend he really is, right,. I was down in the final ,right, match, right. I couldn't concentrate, right. This dude kept on spitting shit, right, about how clean I was, and how I could never pull this off, right.
At this moment, right, at my lowest of lows, right, Vandy come out of nowhere, right, and punched the perpetrator in the nuts, right, and proceeded to waft his man smell into my opponents, nose, right. No sooner that, it was over, right. I won the custody battle, right. I DON'T HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF THAT KID, right, and its all thanks to you Vandy, right. You are a true friend, right! Let's, right, eat, right, pizza, right, and, right, discuss, right, Solstice, right.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
I hate V A N D E R B I L T
For all intent and purpose, our short lived friendship is over. I hate you, and everything you stand for. I wiped my ass with French toast this morning cuz' I know you like it. Can't believe you were the one that took my Solstice Nintendo game pak. You know how much trouble I got in for that. I was restricted to playing tether ball for a whole week. I got really good, which helped me digo later on, but the hardships I suffered weren't worth it.
Now you tell me you took it. Sigh... The balls you have Vanderbilt are of the king sized variety. I thought you had duke sized balls (get it, duke/dong, aka specializing in the face to duke maneuver) Honestly, that's why I haven't been posting. The puzzle based formula of this game is unique. I thought my Famicom might have eaten it, but alas it did not, you took it.
I have been forced to read books by Dan Brown (brown is for shit), and repeatedly watch the second disc of Saved by the Bell the New Class Season 1. Oh have I wasted my life.
While I'm at it... I hate how you always pee all over the toilet seat, and that man smell which I once found attractive now wears on my nasal cavity. Did you have to maraud Maude's vaginal cavity (Black Morris's Mom/ An awkward Haitian Man's hot mom) Dude I wanted that shit. I know you let me shit on her chest as conciliation, but C'mon.
I'll never forgive you for that time you ate all of my cheese, and told me the mouse from mouse trap stole it. I believed you man. I burned that plastic. We drank sasperilla and spit sad songs. We proceeded to digo a baked ham and dog shit on a bagel.
You convinced me to digo a pineapple. Have you ever had that kind of acid penetrate an opening. Ever get that shit in a cut? You're getting the picture. Then you led me to a glory hole. You told me there was a pH neutral Vagina on the other side. There wasn't. I made an Italian man's uncle choke to death.
There are only a short list of grievances I have with you Vanderbilt. So fuck you, and I bid you a bad day. Oh yeah, I'm officially letting everyone know that megaman made you puke your don, BADLY.
Now you tell me you took it. Sigh... The balls you have Vanderbilt are of the king sized variety. I thought you had duke sized balls (get it, duke/dong, aka specializing in the face to duke maneuver) Honestly, that's why I haven't been posting. The puzzle based formula of this game is unique. I thought my Famicom might have eaten it, but alas it did not, you took it.
I have been forced to read books by Dan Brown (brown is for shit), and repeatedly watch the second disc of Saved by the Bell the New Class Season 1. Oh have I wasted my life.
While I'm at it... I hate how you always pee all over the toilet seat, and that man smell which I once found attractive now wears on my nasal cavity. Did you have to maraud Maude's vaginal cavity (Black Morris's Mom/ An awkward Haitian Man's hot mom) Dude I wanted that shit. I know you let me shit on her chest as conciliation, but C'mon.
I'll never forgive you for that time you ate all of my cheese, and told me the mouse from mouse trap stole it. I believed you man. I burned that plastic. We drank sasperilla and spit sad songs. We proceeded to digo a baked ham and dog shit on a bagel.
You convinced me to digo a pineapple. Have you ever had that kind of acid penetrate an opening. Ever get that shit in a cut? You're getting the picture. Then you led me to a glory hole. You told me there was a pH neutral Vagina on the other side. There wasn't. I made an Italian man's uncle choke to death.
There are only a short list of grievances I have with you Vanderbilt. So fuck you, and I bid you a bad day. Oh yeah, I'm officially letting everyone know that megaman made you puke your don, BADLY.
Friday, February 24, 2006
a lost gem
I came back from the lab and sat down to eat my dinner. After flipping the channels furiously I finally settled on watching the last 15 minutes of Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey. I will provide some insight into these last minutes, but before I start let me mention a couple of things about what this movie means to me.
Vanderbilt is an asshole. He didn't invite to his movie birthday party in which he and a number of his friends watched Bogus Journey in theaters. It would have been cool if it was just like three or four of his closest friends, but if my memory serves me correctly, is was a shitload of random peeps. It was people who had invited him to their birthday party, and even acquaintances, but no I wasn't invited.
Also, the first time I saw this movie, it was on channel 11. It was the Sunday afternoon movie. My parents weren't home and I don't think I discovered jerking off yet, so I was pretty entertained. I recall eating popcorn and drinking soda. This movie infatuated me. I was satisfied when it was done.
Anyway, today I decide to watch it, and what do you know, the good Robot us's are on the scene. Yes, if you remember correctly we must mention robot versions of Bill and Ted in the context of good and evil, because the real Bill and Ted were killed by bad robot versions of themselves. With the help of midgets who look like scrotums, they build good robots out of common products one may find in a hardware store. How did they build with their short arms? Why would they help Bill and Ted? Really? If they were so advanced, why could they only speak one word? (station), which is also both their names? We are left in the dark with these questions.
Anyway, Death otherwise known as the grim reaper has accompanied our friends under some ridiculous circumstances. Death has a German accent (maybe), and loves to make little jokes and pop culture references. He's so cute. Wait wait wait... death isn't supposed to be cute... The five of them (station (2), bill and Ted (2), death (1), and the good robot us's walk into the San Demos battle of the bands, Which totally rocks by the way, by any times standards!
The bad robot us's, the ones who allowed our hero's to meet death, are somewhat shocked at the real Bill and Ted's entrance and say something like DUDE!. The thing is, you really can't tell them apart. Its funny, can people who say dude, and that rocks be evil? This is problematic in many ways.
The real Bill and Ted announce that they have arrived to save the day and proceed to use their 'joy sticks' haha to decapitate the evil robot us's with the good robot us's. This is really complicated so bear with me. The bad robot us's do not resist. They should considering they supposedly nefarious. They have 'the babes' (some broads the dog shit duo (what I will describe the real Bill and Ted as from now on) picked up in the middle ages) (Geographically you know where I'm talking about when I say middle ages) ... Ok ok so they have the babes tied up to rafters of the place, and claim they will kill them at the end of their purposely shitty number. Genius. However, they do not struggle when their enemies come back and use the good robot us's to kill them. They say bye to each other in their dude like ways, and the good robot us's decapitate the bad robot us's.
There are fireworks, the crowd is pleased, and the heads of the bad robot us's land in the dog shit duo's arms. They have saved the day, right? If you think that's it, you need a reality check dude. The boss character, (excuse my video games jargon), comes out of the famed phone booth. He's also probably German, is dressed in black, and has a gun that looks like it was purchased in KayBee. He states his name, like a true gangsta, and then uses a remote control to actually get the attention of the whole 'universe'. We see a worthless sequence in which purple electricity goes through satellite dishes. I am now a believer.
This is when we take a turn for the worse. An obligatory shot of people around the world is necessary, so we know that this shit is really international. Up First, is a scumbag, hairy, unshaven, fat Italian man in a wife beater watching to what we can assume to be a soccer game. He tries to change the channel, but no he can't. This 'melvin' has taken control of all tv, everywhere. He could read, or jerk off or something, but he chooses to keep on watching. Next we go the England where the prim and proper shitfaced family is drinking tea at the breakfast table or some shit. They all simultaneously say 'my word'. Is this really the United States' pop culture's view of the British? Shit, that's garbage. Then in a typical stereotype not given much play anymore, we visit China. In a bar or gambling den, old surly Chinese men bet their life fortunes on the role of the dice. They even have the nerve to give one of the men a farmer's hat.
We return to the gym. This guy is talking shit. Some nonsense. He won't shoot his gun, and we know it, but shit it's pointed right at the dog shit duo. What will they do? They have a conference. They agree to escape, but they don't say how. There is a toy gun pointed right at them, you would think they might respect it, but they anger the German even more. Instead of just leaving in the phone both to escape danger, they decide to go back in time and set up a dropping sandbag. A motherfuckn sandbag that falls at that moment and knocks the gun out of the German's hand. Instead of just picking it up, he stands there with his dick out, vulnerable to attack. As they discuss what they will do next, magically a cage falls on the German's head.
So in this scene the dog shit duo are in the present and they are describing what they will do when they use the phone booth. Man, this logic is more fucked up than Back to the Future. Well, as they contemplate what they will do to beat this gypsy, it just so happens, they are experts at timeing this shit perfectly. I never understood this when I first watched it, and I still don't. If you have any theories please let me know immediately.
The German claims he can manipulate time as well. He gets a key for the cage and another gun. Silly German! He forgets that Bill and Ted are 'the men' and will come up on top. So they fuck with the dude. Instead of having a toy gun that shoots lasers or some shit, a flag that says Wild Stallions rule pops out. Hilarious. Ted's father handcuffs the fiend and we are all good, but not before death, that daffy bastard, gives the German a huge weggie. He is labeled a melvin and figuratively shit on.
The next shit is the shit that really pisses me off. When the German gets over the shock of being humiliated on world wide TV, he smiles. He liked the wedgie. Logic says he likes things up his ass. The villain is not only a scumbag, and evil, but gay too. Fucking hilarious, really. The fucked up thing is death has undoubtedly dabbled in homosexuality himself, and here he is ostracizing the German because he likes wedgies. Tisk tisk.
Some insignificant shit happens, and then they decide to 'get good' by traveling back to the middle ages and practicing guitar. Wait wait wait... where did they plug their electric guitars into? They did have Station though. They come back to the present with ridiculous mustaches and beards, the type a man might spend a life time growing. Lucky Bastards. They introduce their band, death spits a rhyme: 'whether you are a king or a little street sweeper, you know you got a date with the reaper'. His nick name should be the cerebral assasian.
The dog shit duo had twins that were conceived at the same time during the duration of a 'mediaeval honeymoon' They practiced for 16 months, and for what, so they could play GOD GAVE ROCK AND ROLL TO YOU, considered by most to be a shitty power/monster ballad by a garbage band. Everyone loves it, because everyone is still watching internationally. Practiced for so long, and this is it? The British family loves it though. The reserved, conservative, prim and proper Brits are dancing to it. Shiiiit.... The Asian guy gives the other Asian guy a high five.
It is clear they are not actually singing this song. The message hits home with all. God did give rock and roll to us, and everyone.
The credits start rolling... wow that was some ride. Wait, wait, we get to see the future even though it didn't' t happen yet. Apparently, the dog shit duo become Sportsmen of the year, and take roles in world history that they could never have imagined growing up in San Demos. They cure the problems of the middle east (whatever that happens to be at the time) by simply going there. When the dog shit duo goes to the Midwest, agricultural production goes up 30 percent. There is a string of these events, which are obviously just correlation not causation, such as causing the Dow to drop because of break up rumors. Not only do they use the world's atomic bomb supply to fuel their amplifier, but they cure pollution with air guitars. Heavy stuff. The one I didn't understand was about death winning the Indy 500. The headline is a quote by death saying 'I didn't know I could run that fast'. Totally out of context. And finally like a real American story, technology improves and Bill and Ted play on Mars. Utter trash. Through this we are subjected to hearing a tall tale about the origins of rock and roll. Ya know, how god gave rock and roll to us, and everyone.
Needless to say, my reaction to this was WOWSERS! Really stupid shit. Surreal, and thus entertaining. I'm glad I could share this experience with others, and fuck you Vanderbilt for not inviting me.
Vanderbilt is an asshole. He didn't invite to his movie birthday party in which he and a number of his friends watched Bogus Journey in theaters. It would have been cool if it was just like three or four of his closest friends, but if my memory serves me correctly, is was a shitload of random peeps. It was people who had invited him to their birthday party, and even acquaintances, but no I wasn't invited.
Also, the first time I saw this movie, it was on channel 11. It was the Sunday afternoon movie. My parents weren't home and I don't think I discovered jerking off yet, so I was pretty entertained. I recall eating popcorn and drinking soda. This movie infatuated me. I was satisfied when it was done.
Anyway, today I decide to watch it, and what do you know, the good Robot us's are on the scene. Yes, if you remember correctly we must mention robot versions of Bill and Ted in the context of good and evil, because the real Bill and Ted were killed by bad robot versions of themselves. With the help of midgets who look like scrotums, they build good robots out of common products one may find in a hardware store. How did they build with their short arms? Why would they help Bill and Ted? Really? If they were so advanced, why could they only speak one word? (station), which is also both their names? We are left in the dark with these questions.
Anyway, Death otherwise known as the grim reaper has accompanied our friends under some ridiculous circumstances. Death has a German accent (maybe), and loves to make little jokes and pop culture references. He's so cute. Wait wait wait... death isn't supposed to be cute... The five of them (station (2), bill and Ted (2), death (1), and the good robot us's walk into the San Demos battle of the bands, Which totally rocks by the way, by any times standards!
The bad robot us's, the ones who allowed our hero's to meet death, are somewhat shocked at the real Bill and Ted's entrance and say something like DUDE!. The thing is, you really can't tell them apart. Its funny, can people who say dude, and that rocks be evil? This is problematic in many ways.
The real Bill and Ted announce that they have arrived to save the day and proceed to use their 'joy sticks' haha to decapitate the evil robot us's with the good robot us's. This is really complicated so bear with me. The bad robot us's do not resist. They should considering they supposedly nefarious. They have 'the babes' (some broads the dog shit duo (what I will describe the real Bill and Ted as from now on) picked up in the middle ages) (Geographically you know where I'm talking about when I say middle ages) ... Ok ok so they have the babes tied up to rafters of the place, and claim they will kill them at the end of their purposely shitty number. Genius. However, they do not struggle when their enemies come back and use the good robot us's to kill them. They say bye to each other in their dude like ways, and the good robot us's decapitate the bad robot us's.
There are fireworks, the crowd is pleased, and the heads of the bad robot us's land in the dog shit duo's arms. They have saved the day, right? If you think that's it, you need a reality check dude. The boss character, (excuse my video games jargon), comes out of the famed phone booth. He's also probably German, is dressed in black, and has a gun that looks like it was purchased in KayBee. He states his name, like a true gangsta, and then uses a remote control to actually get the attention of the whole 'universe'. We see a worthless sequence in which purple electricity goes through satellite dishes. I am now a believer.
This is when we take a turn for the worse. An obligatory shot of people around the world is necessary, so we know that this shit is really international. Up First, is a scumbag, hairy, unshaven, fat Italian man in a wife beater watching to what we can assume to be a soccer game. He tries to change the channel, but no he can't. This 'melvin' has taken control of all tv, everywhere. He could read, or jerk off or something, but he chooses to keep on watching. Next we go the England where the prim and proper shitfaced family is drinking tea at the breakfast table or some shit. They all simultaneously say 'my word'. Is this really the United States' pop culture's view of the British? Shit, that's garbage. Then in a typical stereotype not given much play anymore, we visit China. In a bar or gambling den, old surly Chinese men bet their life fortunes on the role of the dice. They even have the nerve to give one of the men a farmer's hat.
We return to the gym. This guy is talking shit. Some nonsense. He won't shoot his gun, and we know it, but shit it's pointed right at the dog shit duo. What will they do? They have a conference. They agree to escape, but they don't say how. There is a toy gun pointed right at them, you would think they might respect it, but they anger the German even more. Instead of just leaving in the phone both to escape danger, they decide to go back in time and set up a dropping sandbag. A motherfuckn sandbag that falls at that moment and knocks the gun out of the German's hand. Instead of just picking it up, he stands there with his dick out, vulnerable to attack. As they discuss what they will do next, magically a cage falls on the German's head.
So in this scene the dog shit duo are in the present and they are describing what they will do when they use the phone booth. Man, this logic is more fucked up than Back to the Future. Well, as they contemplate what they will do to beat this gypsy, it just so happens, they are experts at timeing this shit perfectly. I never understood this when I first watched it, and I still don't. If you have any theories please let me know immediately.
The German claims he can manipulate time as well. He gets a key for the cage and another gun. Silly German! He forgets that Bill and Ted are 'the men' and will come up on top. So they fuck with the dude. Instead of having a toy gun that shoots lasers or some shit, a flag that says Wild Stallions rule pops out. Hilarious. Ted's father handcuffs the fiend and we are all good, but not before death, that daffy bastard, gives the German a huge weggie. He is labeled a melvin and figuratively shit on.
The next shit is the shit that really pisses me off. When the German gets over the shock of being humiliated on world wide TV, he smiles. He liked the wedgie. Logic says he likes things up his ass. The villain is not only a scumbag, and evil, but gay too. Fucking hilarious, really. The fucked up thing is death has undoubtedly dabbled in homosexuality himself, and here he is ostracizing the German because he likes wedgies. Tisk tisk.
Some insignificant shit happens, and then they decide to 'get good' by traveling back to the middle ages and practicing guitar. Wait wait wait... where did they plug their electric guitars into? They did have Station though. They come back to the present with ridiculous mustaches and beards, the type a man might spend a life time growing. Lucky Bastards. They introduce their band, death spits a rhyme: 'whether you are a king or a little street sweeper, you know you got a date with the reaper'. His nick name should be the cerebral assasian.
The dog shit duo had twins that were conceived at the same time during the duration of a 'mediaeval honeymoon' They practiced for 16 months, and for what, so they could play GOD GAVE ROCK AND ROLL TO YOU, considered by most to be a shitty power/monster ballad by a garbage band. Everyone loves it, because everyone is still watching internationally. Practiced for so long, and this is it? The British family loves it though. The reserved, conservative, prim and proper Brits are dancing to it. Shiiiit.... The Asian guy gives the other Asian guy a high five.
It is clear they are not actually singing this song. The message hits home with all. God did give rock and roll to us, and everyone.
The credits start rolling... wow that was some ride. Wait, wait, we get to see the future even though it didn't' t happen yet. Apparently, the dog shit duo become Sportsmen of the year, and take roles in world history that they could never have imagined growing up in San Demos. They cure the problems of the middle east (whatever that happens to be at the time) by simply going there. When the dog shit duo goes to the Midwest, agricultural production goes up 30 percent. There is a string of these events, which are obviously just correlation not causation, such as causing the Dow to drop because of break up rumors. Not only do they use the world's atomic bomb supply to fuel their amplifier, but they cure pollution with air guitars. Heavy stuff. The one I didn't understand was about death winning the Indy 500. The headline is a quote by death saying 'I didn't know I could run that fast'. Totally out of context. And finally like a real American story, technology improves and Bill and Ted play on Mars. Utter trash. Through this we are subjected to hearing a tall tale about the origins of rock and roll. Ya know, how god gave rock and roll to us, and everyone.
Needless to say, my reaction to this was WOWSERS! Really stupid shit. Surreal, and thus entertaining. I'm glad I could share this experience with others, and fuck you Vanderbilt for not inviting me.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
battle ax he-man
Sitting down in a dark corner I begin to ponder. I let my mind wander where it may go, much like a drunk chimpanzee searching for an evenings dinner. The physical has escaped permitting a meditative state to the likes of which has been equaled only on rare occasion. My joints become ductile and relax back into my essence as a slight wind escapes from a man's posterior. The finger is moved to regain temporal balance.
The world has changed. In the future there are no more water fountains. The public is non existent. The cyberourgeoisie have effectively turned the masses into a quite homogeneous monoculture of consumers. This dystopian vision of the future is not unique. I refuse to cite John Carpenter's 'They Live'.
The value that space was given back then seems quite out of place here. The fabric of what we refer to as a neighborhood has been destroyed by self effacing individual citizens who unintentionally manufactured the social, economic, and political institutions of this world. Can this state be attributed to advanced capitalism? Perhaps this is the case. However, when I take the time to examine my serially absent self in a shard of broken glass, I realize I am this. The forces that created such a place have created me. Created in the image of capital, I will always remain in it. I shatter the glass with my Converse sneaker. Emblematic of the day I'm having, I cut my shin on the remanence. Theoretically, survival instincts should have kicked in. There would be no older version of Marty Mcfly to accompany me in my time of need. Maybe Jesus has finally returned and this is a post messianic landscape.
My thought is interrupted by a spectacular fragmented object resembling some semblance of architecture's vast history. Unless the molecular structure of building materials has changed, the design of this structure is far from sound. The angles from which this place constructs it's identities are thrown about like garbage in the mews. The eerie turpentine smell emanating from it draws me closer. As I come near, there's a rise in my Levis. There is a small circular hole in the side of one the many fragmented walls. Upon closer inspection the hole is quite glorious in it's aesthetic qualities....
To be continued....
The world has changed. In the future there are no more water fountains. The public is non existent. The cyberourgeoisie have effectively turned the masses into a quite homogeneous monoculture of consumers. This dystopian vision of the future is not unique. I refuse to cite John Carpenter's 'They Live'.
The value that space was given back then seems quite out of place here. The fabric of what we refer to as a neighborhood has been destroyed by self effacing individual citizens who unintentionally manufactured the social, economic, and political institutions of this world. Can this state be attributed to advanced capitalism? Perhaps this is the case. However, when I take the time to examine my serially absent self in a shard of broken glass, I realize I am this. The forces that created such a place have created me. Created in the image of capital, I will always remain in it. I shatter the glass with my Converse sneaker. Emblematic of the day I'm having, I cut my shin on the remanence. Theoretically, survival instincts should have kicked in. There would be no older version of Marty Mcfly to accompany me in my time of need. Maybe Jesus has finally returned and this is a post messianic landscape.
My thought is interrupted by a spectacular fragmented object resembling some semblance of architecture's vast history. Unless the molecular structure of building materials has changed, the design of this structure is far from sound. The angles from which this place constructs it's identities are thrown about like garbage in the mews. The eerie turpentine smell emanating from it draws me closer. As I come near, there's a rise in my Levis. There is a small circular hole in the side of one the many fragmented walls. Upon closer inspection the hole is quite glorious in it's aesthetic qualities....
To be continued....
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Questions for the Ultimate Warrior
You used to be Ultimate, you used to be my hero. The way you would run into the ring full speed and furiously shake your multi colored tassels in such varieties as hot pink and electric purple. You shook the ropes like they were nothing. I took the rubberband in my hand and tried to emulate your style. You were unstoppable, clotheslining everyone in sight. You survived the atomic leg drop, how? I didn't think it was possible. You inspired me to wonderful things in my life.
Why? Why did you have to change your official name to "Ulitmate Warrior". Your kids now have warrior as a last name. You wife has to be referred to as Ms. Warrior. You have lived out my fantasy. To refer to you properly people must call you Ultimate. I got called a brick wall yesterday while playing basketball and I thought of you.
Your selfishness made me cry. Why couldn't you master kayfabe, as I had sought to do? Bobby Heenan hates you, why? He is a likeable guy, always joking around. Did you shit in his dressing room, or disrespect him in some way? You had your own dressing room. Why? Were you above ethnic stereotypes and mythological characters like Hercules.
They said you're a horrible technical wrestler. I don't believe them, Ultimate. They are jealous of your strength and your poise.
I heard Andre the Giant punched you in the face. That was fucked up. I like Andre, but he should not have done that.
Why are you a conservative? Why have you taken that path in life? It made me cry when I heard. Hulk Hogan became a joke to me, my hero, (while at least Vanderbilt's anyway), when he tarnished his image with self accounts of being human. Hulkmania was human, but the warrior no!, He was a god! or according to his own accounts he spent a lot of time with the gods above. Your speeches exhilarated me, and added to my surrealist conceptualizations of writing, talking and literature. On Monday I found out you were human.
Or so the WWE wants us to think. I don't listen to them. You are still important to me. It was shameful how you died, and they tried to bring you back to life with that imposter. I know you died, I know you did, because the ultimate warrior that I hear about, the one who demanded money for the match in hell, the one who is a conservative speaker, the one who called Droz a cripple, he is not the Ultimate Warrior. This I know.
My image of you is not tarnished. You will always be my hero, Mr. Warrior.
Why? Why did you have to change your official name to "Ulitmate Warrior". Your kids now have warrior as a last name. You wife has to be referred to as Ms. Warrior. You have lived out my fantasy. To refer to you properly people must call you Ultimate. I got called a brick wall yesterday while playing basketball and I thought of you.
Your selfishness made me cry. Why couldn't you master kayfabe, as I had sought to do? Bobby Heenan hates you, why? He is a likeable guy, always joking around. Did you shit in his dressing room, or disrespect him in some way? You had your own dressing room. Why? Were you above ethnic stereotypes and mythological characters like Hercules.
They said you're a horrible technical wrestler. I don't believe them, Ultimate. They are jealous of your strength and your poise.
I heard Andre the Giant punched you in the face. That was fucked up. I like Andre, but he should not have done that.
Why are you a conservative? Why have you taken that path in life? It made me cry when I heard. Hulk Hogan became a joke to me, my hero, (while at least Vanderbilt's anyway), when he tarnished his image with self accounts of being human. Hulkmania was human, but the warrior no!, He was a god! or according to his own accounts he spent a lot of time with the gods above. Your speeches exhilarated me, and added to my surrealist conceptualizations of writing, talking and literature. On Monday I found out you were human.
Or so the WWE wants us to think. I don't listen to them. You are still important to me. It was shameful how you died, and they tried to bring you back to life with that imposter. I know you died, I know you did, because the ultimate warrior that I hear about, the one who demanded money for the match in hell, the one who is a conservative speaker, the one who called Droz a cripple, he is not the Ultimate Warrior. This I know.
My image of you is not tarnished. You will always be my hero, Mr. Warrior.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
half man half machine
Im robocop yo
you can't stop me yo, I got a gat that fires three shots at a time. Honestly man, I got a targeting system that will straight fuck you up. I once took on a whole narcotics factory by myself. I threw the dad from that 70's show through mad walls. I also am pretty slow. I take an approach similar to the juggernaut. You can't stop me. They chopped me up into pieces one time. Shit was ass. Also, motherfuckas reprogrammed my memory unsecessfully. I was supposed to be a machine, but I remembered my family. I ate apple sauce one time to. It wasn't that good.
OCP owns me though, I hate those motherfuckers. Everytime I think about sex thay make me watch reruns of punky brewster.
SERVE THE PUBLIC TRUST
PROTECT THE INNOCENT
UPHOLD THE LAW
you can't stop me yo, I got a gat that fires three shots at a time. Honestly man, I got a targeting system that will straight fuck you up. I once took on a whole narcotics factory by myself. I threw the dad from that 70's show through mad walls. I also am pretty slow. I take an approach similar to the juggernaut. You can't stop me. They chopped me up into pieces one time. Shit was ass. Also, motherfuckas reprogrammed my memory unsecessfully. I was supposed to be a machine, but I remembered my family. I ate apple sauce one time to. It wasn't that good.
OCP owns me though, I hate those motherfuckers. Everytime I think about sex thay make me watch reruns of punky brewster.
SERVE THE PUBLIC TRUST
PROTECT THE INNOCENT
UPHOLD THE LAW
Morality?
I posit a question? What is morality? Not so much what is it, but what makes one morally just or evil? Hitler was evil, right? That point can belabored forever, however when we talk about figures in history, or in the media, we are quick to judge them by our own moral standards. To describe these persons some use phrases such as 'that man or woman has small character'. I use the word scumbag. Scumbag has become a positive way to describe myself, however. Am I proud of being a scumbag? On my birthday I got a call from a colleague. He wished a happy birthday to me and chose to celebrate the twenty third anniversary of the biggest scumbag alive being born. I took this as a compliment.
Does this morality prevent us from doing what really feels good. Morality is a spatial-temporal phenomenon. It is specific to the space that is created. In the end it seems as if old testament morality has spread to most of the human species. Moral constraint is a fine word in my opinion. Persons such as myself gain great pleasure in loosening or in some cases breaking these constraints. Though most of society ultimately looks down on these actions, on a personal level they are most enjoyable.
I struggle with this question as a result of recent events that have even plagued the immortal Shitface McStevens. If something feels so right, if it makes so much sense, why deny it? Is it enough to deny yourself happiness, just because it's wrong by other peoples standards, and society as a whole? The circles you run in dictate your concepts of loyalty and friendship.
I am not a rule breaker. I don't like asking people for directions, nor do I purposely disrespect people most of time. If I don't know you, I'll probably listen to you for a while even if I hate you. For years I have done what teachers, professors, colleagues, and others have told me. Though I may feel anguish about it, I'll carry on and do it. When it comes to situations in which there seems to be no real consequences for my actions, let's say in the domain of Binghamton, or shitting on my friend Brian and his girlfriend, I can transform into this rule breaker who intends on doing things that would make the biggest scumbags cringe.
The scary situation is the one in which you do not consciously break the rule, but in a way you confidently saunter through it like you are a ghost caring little for who you hurt. Love or a perceived sense of worth or happiness can lead us in some strange directions. In a matter of hours, days, or weeks, priorities can change. The multiple identities we all have are constantly in conflict. The most clever have either learned to balance them with cunning (gizer), or chose to completely ignore them. Unfortunately, some situations even unnerve the most relaxed among us. I want to be here. I was for a while, but like most strong feelings that I have had, I eventually master and conquer them. War metaphors and emotions usually don't mix well, but my case they have to.
Does this morality prevent us from doing what really feels good. Morality is a spatial-temporal phenomenon. It is specific to the space that is created. In the end it seems as if old testament morality has spread to most of the human species. Moral constraint is a fine word in my opinion. Persons such as myself gain great pleasure in loosening or in some cases breaking these constraints. Though most of society ultimately looks down on these actions, on a personal level they are most enjoyable.
I struggle with this question as a result of recent events that have even plagued the immortal Shitface McStevens. If something feels so right, if it makes so much sense, why deny it? Is it enough to deny yourself happiness, just because it's wrong by other peoples standards, and society as a whole? The circles you run in dictate your concepts of loyalty and friendship.
I am not a rule breaker. I don't like asking people for directions, nor do I purposely disrespect people most of time. If I don't know you, I'll probably listen to you for a while even if I hate you. For years I have done what teachers, professors, colleagues, and others have told me. Though I may feel anguish about it, I'll carry on and do it. When it comes to situations in which there seems to be no real consequences for my actions, let's say in the domain of Binghamton, or shitting on my friend Brian and his girlfriend, I can transform into this rule breaker who intends on doing things that would make the biggest scumbags cringe.
The scary situation is the one in which you do not consciously break the rule, but in a way you confidently saunter through it like you are a ghost caring little for who you hurt. Love or a perceived sense of worth or happiness can lead us in some strange directions. In a matter of hours, days, or weeks, priorities can change. The multiple identities we all have are constantly in conflict. The most clever have either learned to balance them with cunning (gizer), or chose to completely ignore them. Unfortunately, some situations even unnerve the most relaxed among us. I want to be here. I was for a while, but like most strong feelings that I have had, I eventually master and conquer them. War metaphors and emotions usually don't mix well, but my case they have to.
Monday, January 09, 2006
you forgot what?
Shit! Fuck! Crap! Nards! Smithsonianizer! I can't believe I forgot. The most important moment in my life and I forgot! Only if I had remembered, would have things changed? Fuck this Shizer! Am I real? Are you real? Are we real? Only if I had not done what I did to that silly sandwich. The future could have changed, and the rightful owners of that 86' blue Tornado, could be petting cats and shit. Sigh, the only things that keeps me going anymore is holding in bowel movements, and then releasing them, ever so slowly.
Did I mention I simply detest bread that's toasted. Why would you? I mean, what's the point of heating bread, its already hot enough already. And toast? That's an original name. Let's name a food after the action that forms it. Shit is annoying.
I was at the corner store, and some guy asked me, "Excuse me sir, do you know the time" I laughed in that faggots face. AHAHAHAHAHAHAH. Only gays don't know the time, its against their religion.
I walk everywhere. Once, I walked to the park. I had a good time. It was nice. I walked home.
Did I mention I simply detest bread that's toasted. Why would you? I mean, what's the point of heating bread, its already hot enough already. And toast? That's an original name. Let's name a food after the action that forms it. Shit is annoying.
I was at the corner store, and some guy asked me, "Excuse me sir, do you know the time" I laughed in that faggots face. AHAHAHAHAHAHAH. Only gays don't know the time, its against their religion.
I walk everywhere. Once, I walked to the park. I had a good time. It was nice. I walked home.
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