SickSadLilWorld

Kids! Accept Jesus Christ as Your Lord and Savior and Get a Free PlayStation 2!

2005-01-17T18:54:00.000-05:00

This offer is for children and teenagers only! It may not be used in conjunction with any other Landover Baptist salvation offer.

Hey kids! If your Mom and Dad didn't buy you a PlayStation 2 for Christmas, you can still get one FOR FREE! Have you ever heard of Jesus Christ? Well, He's heard of you! And He wants you to have all the cool toys your parents are too cheap to buy! In fact, the Lord Jesus is very upset with your parents that they didn't give you all the latest stuff that every kid in America deserves! And Jesus has got your back, because He is your homeboy! If you've never heard of Jesus, He is an invisible cloud-dwelling deity (infinite lives!) who loves you very much and wants nothing more than to give you a free PlayStation 2!
We here at Landover Baptist Church work full-time as servants of Jesus Christ, and He's told us about you and your predicament. He's also given us special instructions on how He wants us to deliver a new PlayStation 2 to your house. It's as easy as 1-2-3! Understand, Jesus cares WAY more about you than your parents EVER will! They will never love you as much as Jesus loves you! Always remember that. If you hate your parents because they didn't get you a PlayStation 2 for Christmas, He completely understands! He is totally down with that! In fact, lucky for you, in order to follow Him, you are actually required to hate your parents!
"If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother...he cannot be my disciple." - The Lord Jesus Christ (Luke 14:26)
Pretty cool, huh? So, if you hate your parents, you are already halfway to becoming a True Christian™! Congratulations!
Here is what you need to do to get your free Play Station 2:
1. Tell Jesus that you hate your parents, and that you'd rather have Him for your Daddy. Ask Him to forgive your sins, and cover you with His blood (you'll see plenty of that splattered across your TV when you play your complimentary Grand Theft Auto 3 game!).
2. Find one of your Mom or Dad's credit cards (a blank check is even better!)
3. Call our church office and we will provide you with simple instructions on how to use your parents' credit card to charge a love offering over the phone. Don't worry if you can't find a credit card. We can teach you how to use one of your daddy's checks to do an automatic draft withdrawal (which will get you free shipping and an extra game disk!)
Please note: If your parents ask you where you got your new PlayStation 2, just tell them that your Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, delivered it to you via the U.S. Postal Service in exchange for your soul.
Still NOT SURE? Here's More:
Landover Baptist's PlayStation 2 comes with a complimentary modified version of the popular disk, Tony Hawk's Underground. You can upload Jesus' face into the game and automatically unlock all of the cheat codes to "God Mode," so that Jesus can win every single level and perform incredible grab-tricks, spins, flips and stunts! As a new Christian, you will want to share the good news of Jesus Christ with as many of your "peeps in the hood" as you can. The great thing about Tony Hawk's Underground is that you can actually get off of your skateboard and walk around in the game and talk to other skaters about the Plan of Salvation! And if they don't accept Jesus as their Personal Savior, you can kill them later. How cool is that!?
In addition, if you are interested in Christian computer games, Landover Baptist children use Bible-based-maps and characters in Unreal Tournament as part of their Christian Soldier training to help Jesus slaughter sinners in the final battle of Armageddon (which God willing, will happen during President George W. Bush's second term). Remember to tell your parents to vote for GW in 2004, so that you can meet Jesus real soon and thank Him personally for all the cool stuff He is going to be sending you through this and other super-cool Landover Baptist Kids promotions this year!

Slander, Slander, Slander?

2005-01-13T21:02:00.000-05:00

As most young persons with a shred of knowledge of my person, would know that I really don't give a fuck about most things. The most irritating thing for me is when people speak of me when my name should not be spoken by such said persons.

Enter Deandramatic...

I was "tipped" off on a certain blog that suggests that I have some doings with something I am not associated with. Now if any of you young fucks know, if I did it, I will be more than happy to admit it and revel in its distasteful glory. Someone has apparently left only what I can assume to be a comment on such salad tossers' blog that she deems as inappropriate and I am to blame for this. Hell I would love to have seen this comment, for I am sure to have laughed until I creamed my pants, but the unfortunate thing is, it doesn't exist.

As I don't want to encourage her ill thoughts of annoyance and allow her to think my life revolves around her so much that I must speak of her here. Tisk tisk tisk, I only post for the mere pleasure of speaking my opinions on your ignorance to a situation I for once am not involved in.

"I hate to state the obvious, but this is not your blog. Duh. Unlike my other one which you entirely destroyed, the blogger people are aware of you. And did you know that anonymous comments can be traced back to your PC, if need be?"

Well take a raw fist and shove it up my ass deep! (make sure to get that spiked amulet in there as well)
Not my blog, shit doesn't smear the obvious with air hon, it takes that hand of yours to rub it in as you did here. Ahh, yea I remember that day, along with what seems to be rekindled friend of yours, but he receives none of the blame, oh well. So sad I am to see you moved on. Blogger persons aware of me, bleh, let them bring down the lightening bolts and power to remove me from this flacid site of meaningless that is your life. Anonymous comments can be tracked, well shit I had no clue that people knew where I was coming from. . . . . No shit, I track you watching my shit. By the by, I don't give one disease filled hookers' ass about your life, why would I look at your shit, as I said before, your life does not revolve around me. Remember there is another person living in this apartment and had use of this computer. Oh wait! You don't like to see facts that disprove what you already assume, so sure blame me, jezzabelle.

"Also, it's been like 2 months. Now, being that you're all in your 20's, I suggest the 3 of you grow up and start acting your age. It's pretty immature for you to still continue acting as if I give one great big shit about you, your lives, or your opinions. I thought I made myself fairly clear when I bluntly told you to go ahead and exit my life. In case, for some reason, your ignorance could not allow you to see that; go away. Clear enough?"

What?! What?! I couldn't hear you, I still had the ringing of your consistent nagging in my ear. In addition I had no clue that I separated into three people; curious as to where the other two ran off to. According to this wonderful website my real age is 15, so I suppose I am acting my age. I am certain a 15 year old acts immature. I find it quite entertaining that despite your lack of interest in my life you still seem consumed to post about me, you flatter me. I may go rub one out over it.

"I believe the police stated to you that any further form of communication with me would definitely constitute as harassment. I don't believe we'd like to spend our hard earned money on bail money instead of our soon-to-be-born child...hmmm? Also, maybe spending that time in jail and missing the birth? So, I reckon that since you're old enough to have a child, it means that you might have to grow up too. I know that sucks...You actually have to now act like an adult that you have spent your entire life rebelling against."

Oh the police, that was wonderful. I enjoyed the visit, showed me they had nothing better to do than deal with this "harassment", although I was not informed of any communication dipped into harassment, just that I shouldn't take control of the internet or it is a federal issue. With that I must contest that, I was given a password by another person and told to do with it as I wish, so I had my fun and left it alone. I thought I was rebelling against male authority not adults, glad you know me better than I do. From a psychological stand point, not having a father growing up and being the bastard that I am, only having a female authority figure, I rebel against male dominance. Using your hindsight on this states that all adults are male, which eliminates you from those ranks. Sorry to break that piece of information towards you.

"Anyways, if this is in any way unclear, or you think that you might not be capable of this, why don't you just go ahead? I'm beyond caring what you do. You're not going to be able to get my passwords from Jon anymore. My username has been changed. It appears that you can't take over this blog anymore. So get a life. Go away. Quit reading this blog. If you would have just not looked for this as some other form of shit to start, we wouldn't be here. Goodbye Jeremy. Fuck off."

Go ahead and what? Fuck myself? I've been there, and I must say I am pretty damn good. Especially when I insert three fingers into my rectum, damn that's good ejaculation. I see it that you are not beyond caring what I do, by seeing the place you look at my dirty thoughts from daily, you have an obvious interest. Sad to see that Jon defected back to your ignorance, yet Jon has not been negative to me in anyway so there is no hard feelings or negativity towards him as a person, he did what he must in his life, I cant hold that against him can I, no. My life is so far fetched for you to consume to think that I want to tread on old stopping grounds by taking your life over again. Already been there, had my fun, now it is as boring as watching midgets fuck. If I wanted to get at you I certainly not have posted a shitty comment, it would have been much more severe, not a threat, but an understanding.

Yes, I initially found your blog, not by my wanting to, for I would rather eat my own BM's. Yes I sent it to everyone, just to annoy you, ladi da. I have since not returned until being tipped off that you felt the need to return to your bitching and self consuming self and blame someone else.
My curiosity did kill me as it usually does, and Iskimmed a few of your postings looking for my name to pop up again since i know you find it necessary to construe me as a person to look as evil as i am, just when you do it please use the truth. I did find a few things interesting, you want to be with more than 10+ people this year, damn i would think that constitutes as *ahem* whore. Funny how much of a follower of the bible yet you feel you must indulge in your sexual evil with a plenty of male connoisseurs. That and with your most recent post, not having braces twice, i believe you only listed 99. Check that one under your knowledge of remembering numbers and editing skills and the many that you used yet continued with a new number, i only chose 1 to get me to 99 but i am certain the number is truly lower. If you don't care about something then why is it worth posting about? Now for my inconsiderate side, off the dog, you know he is in misery yet you allow him to suffer. Grow that dick you claim to have and learn to let go. A tragedy it may be, but does he not have feelings, bad ones at that. I am sure you would rather be in a better place than suffer. Might look to one of your friends for he had a good idea on how to help you with that situation. As they say keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Might be the style that person is going for, but i can not speak for him, er i mean them.

In closing, I am certain a retaliation comment, blog post will come from this, and when and if it does, i could care less. This was nice to get the remaining tension for you off my chest, and i am free and clear. I as i am certain you would do, wont delete a comment if published from you or your "followers", damn such a self centered situation there. I would leave it for all to see the ignorance that was brought on by you. Laugh at the things your mind thought correct at the time, yet know you feel sorrow for later. I have enough pity for myself than needing your assistance. I will sit and sniff my fingers over the lingering affect i seem to have had on your existence. Continue copying ideas from others, and passing them as your own "trendsetting" ways. (By the by, i came to this blog due to the lack of integrity of my last journal, not from your influence)

Now that i have stooped as low as she, i will now go on burying myself in greenbacks laying around the room without an idea of how to spend it all. Perhaps a good purple 24" donger dildo will suit, nah, I'll leave it lying around it looks purty.

2005-01-12T20:06:00.000-05:00

Sweet Jesus on a breadstick, this new year is already shaping up to look like one big ass fuck. Already, the collective dicks of the Federal Government are ready and primed to invade our tax paying butt holes with the upcoming Presidential Inauguration. Good Ol' Texas Boy Dubya plans on throwing the biggest kegger we done ever seen, and thumbing his nose at the rest of us who are just too damned poor to be invited.
Already, donors have supplied him with around $18 million for the party proceedings, which is fine when I think about it. They support him, and they have every right to throw away their money towards a party that will most likely end up with Dubya snorting lines of coke off of Jenna's tits while everyone else looks on in amazement at this incestual haberdashery. Someone's fallin' off the wagon, people, and I can't fucking wait to see the aftermath.
But the thing that squeezes my balls in a vice is the fact that the White House is INSISTING that Washington, DC subsidize the corporate cash financing Dubya's "little" shin-dig. According to one of the Capital Rags which suspiciously rhymes with Pashington Wost, Bush and his cronies are REFUSING to reimburse the District for most of the costs for next week's inauguration. Better yet, as if it isn't audacious enough to proclaim this, the White House wants the District's homeland security money to be used instead.
My mind is officially boggled.
Correct me if I'm wrong, folks, but since when has an administration in the past taken OUR money and used it to throw a lavish inauguration party DURING A TIME OF WAR? That's right. Never. FDR delivered a brief speech during his re-election inaugural party and got back to bombing those dastardly Nazi-Krauts into charred schnitzel. No party. No over-the-top giant chocolate pair of cowboy boots paid for with our tax dollars. And to top it off, it's money intended to protect our citizens from potential terrorists attacks.
So let me get this straight: We, the American taxpayers, have to pay for a party to which none of us regular folk are invited, that will most likely be the perfect target for a terrorist clusterfuck, using the money that would instead protect against that same fucking scenario? Have we suddenly slipped into Bizarro World and nobody told me? Now I could easily ignore all the political mishandlings that our leaders are thrusting up our asses, but you see, I'm a glutton for punishment. A political masochist, if you will, and I like to be in constant pain. Sure, I could just as well strike all that info from my memory and cruise this site, masturbating to pics of the tsunami disaster and scat videos like the rest of you, but it's just not in my nature. I get off on political unrest. While my friends prattle on and on about which Dixie Chick they'd like to cornhole, I'm the one boring them to death with the latest news of whatever political scum-fuckery happened to happen that day.
So in closing, let me just say I'm praying to Kali that something goes tragically awry while televising that inauguration, because watching our dictator squander our meager earnings on Bible-beating drunkards would be enough to strike me blind.
(ps: I would cornhole the chubby one. She looks like she would be interested in that sort of thing.)

Ten theses

2005-01-08T01:41:00.000-05:00

1. Contrary to Lenin's thesis that "Only the urban and industrial proletariat, led by the Communist Party, can liberate the working masses of the countryside from the yoke of capital and landed proprietorship," (Preliminary Draft Theses on the Agrarian Question) Jack Chick shows that Communism in its very genesis was just another Vatican scheme to enslave the masses. The Jesuits worked with Marx and Engels to develop the communist manifesto, he says. The goal was to convince the Russian people to overthrow the Czar, who protected the Orthodox Church from the Vatican. (Note: Rasputin, too, was a Jesuit agent working to undermine the Czar.)
The patriarch of the Russian church made a deal with the triumphant Bolsheviks, however, giving them the Czar's gold in exchange for sparing the Orthodox church. The pope "had been betrayed by his own communists," according to Chick's Ivan the Terrible. "To get even, they built a new machine called the Nazi party."
2. The flexibility of Rome can be amazing, for it again has altered its political strategy to suit the times. "The Vatican is convinced that communism will win in the future," Chick says in Fat Cats, "so they have decided to join the party."
The result is liberation theology, which grew from a Vatican program under which selected Central American children were sent to Moscow for special training before being made nuns and priests.
3. The communists are basically pikers, though, mere agents of the Jesuits. Compared with the Vatican's intrigues, their crosses and double crosses would barely add up to a British spy thriller suitable for PBS.
A far more dynamic source of evil is rock music which, according to Chick, is a pet project of Satan himself. Rock and roll is derived from ancient (and anciently evil) Druid rhythms and is controlled by a druidic priesthood that in turn is directly run by Satan. Backward masking is the least of it: These Satanic priests bless each new-release master, and 10 demons are sent out with every disk to destroy the lives of listeners.
"My music pushes murder, drugs, free sex, suicide, to destroy country, home and education," Satan says in Angels?. "I have hooked the adults, young people and children. Everyone loves it because it all sounds the same... (Chick astutely recognizes here that most rock music is dreck.) I've got the souls of the whole world dancing to my beat."
4. The occult and rock music are inextricably linked, and both are to be taken seriously. Chick knows that occultism is not the entertaining trifle it is usually treated as. Bewitched was Satan's favorite show. "Haw haw, delightful--so disarming--so innocent--yet so effective," Satan says after screening an episode in Chick's early tract, Bewitched?.
Similarly, the usually Catholic-derived mumbo-jumbo that movie characters naively use to fight demons would really just get them deeper into trouble. ("Jesus I know, and Paul I know; but who are you?" asked a demon in Acts 19:13 when a group of itinerant Jewish exorcists tried to use the name of Jesus in their ritual. The demon ignored their spells and knocked the stuffing out of them.)
There is only one way to cope with demons, and it isn't invocations and rituals. Jesus is Satan's master, and only the simple authority of a faithful Christian calling on Christ's name will subdue the devil and his minions, as Chick shows repeatedly.
5. The Jews are not exactly among those minions, in Chick's view. His anti-Semitism is rarely overt, though he does claim falsely that Lenin and Stalin were both "of Jewish extraction" and that the House of Rothschild controls the Illuminati.
Chick shares fully, however, in the anti-Semitism that underlies much fundamentalist theology. This anti-Semitism is the flip side of many fundamentalists' passionate belief in the Jews' status as God's chosen people and their fervent commitment to Israel. Born-agains generally believe that during the tribulation preceding the Second Coming, the people of Israel will accept Jesus as the Messiah and will be restored to their favored position in God's plan.
6. Just as God chose the Jews for a privileged status, he punishes them when they depart from the proper path. Thus the persecution of the Jews over the centuries is God's ordained punishment of this stiff-necked people for their rejection of Jesus in his first incarnation (not to mention their culpability in his death). The instruments of that punishment may be evil (Nazis, inquisitors, etc.), but the penalty itself is richly deserved and unavoidable, as long as the Jews refuse belief in Christ.
(This shows how devastating it can be for a people's self-critique to fall into the hands of unsympathetic outsiders. The Bible, both Old and Testament and new, really is nothing more than the Jewish people being brutally honest with themselves about their own failings and woes. But gentiles have treated it with a glee usually associated with celebrity tell-all memoirs or secret speeches by Communist Party general secretaries.)
7. Chick's theology, including his anti-Semitism, is far from marginal. It reflects long-standing Protestant beliefs regarding the Jews and the Vatican. Only with the coming of religious liberalism in the last century or so have these hard-line views receded among most Protestants. Yet though they are rarely so forthrightly expressed, they are still common among fundamentalists.
Nor does it take that great a leap to arrive at his world view. If you assume that Satan leads all the forces of evil in the world and that the Vatican is the seat of his worldly power, the rest follows. And that the Vatican is under Satan's dominion is itself not such a great leap. By a strict reading of the Bible, Roman Catholic theology--intercessory priests, confession, saint worship, papal infallibility, the cult of the virgin, purgatory, indulgences, etc.--is the opposite of what Jesus preached. That Rome was able to seduce and subvert Jesus' own followers and for centuries hold title to the religion bearing his name could be seen as the epitome of Satanic obscenity.
8. Modern-day ecumenicalism precludes such a hard-headed view of the Vatican, which is one symptom of why Chick-style fundamentalism is so much hipper. Do-gooding Unitarians, women-ordaining Episcopalians, positive-thinking Presbyterians--they're all too sensitively liberal-minded to really appreciate the luridness of the occult, the corruption of the Vatican, the violence of rock music, the way Chick does. To more enlightened Christians, his fascination with the demimonde must seem morbid, distasteful and unfairly judgmental.
Yet that fascination is what makes his comic books the entertainment equal of the most au courant horror movie, conspiracy thriller or rock and roll extravaganza. It was Chick, for example, who came up with the notion of a new-age secret police enforcing hipness on a stubbornly square populace. Years later the Dead Kennedies immortalized California Gov. Jerry Brown's "suede-denim secret police" in "California Uber Alles."
9. Because Chick really believes in the conspiracies and demons he writes about, his comics have more conviction and a stronger internal logic than any Hollywood production. This is real stuff for him, not fantasy or metaphor. It's important that he get it right and that it leads to the conclusion dictated by the story rather than whatever climax market research shows will get good word of mouth.
In Chick's own words: "We use humor to get the reader into the tract. Then the drama of the story holds them while we show that it is hopeless to follow men. You have to change men's hearts, and only the Lord Jesus Christ can do that."
10. Chick, like all fundamentalists, understands the passion of conversion, something religious progressives have abandoned in their embrace of enlightenment. For those who have lived it, salvation is the pinnacle of human experience, and the only thing that keeps Christianity from being just a branch of philosophy (and a constricted one at that). What could provide a more powerful climax to any drama than the life-transforming, infinity-embracing experience of finding Jesus? This is a transcendence of which secular art, philosophy and drugs, like ecumenicalism, can provide only a shadow.

How to kill yourself like a man.

2005-01-07T13:23:00.000-05:00

I was applying for a job to become a suicide prevention counselor the other day, when the guy interviewing me started bitching about how boring his job had become. The only people he ever hears from anymore are 14 year old girls who try to overdose on Tylenol. YAWN. How about killing yourself with some style? How about killing yourself like a man? Here are some manly ways to shove off this mortal coil, along with ratings for each category from 1 to 10:

Eat a tub full of beans:
Manliness: 8
Style: 4
Awesomeness: 8
Mess: 5
What you need: a tub, enough beans to fill said tub.
How to do it: just dig in, you chunky son of a bitch! Keep eating until you can't possibly eat anymore, then eat some more. Your gut will rupture and you will shit yourself. The cool thing about this method is that it's not only disgusting to clean up, but you'll probably be so bloated from the beans (choose Van Camp's by the way, not Bush's baked beans unless you like the taste of beans pickled in ball sweat) that you probably won't fit in the casket without some serious reconstructive surgery. Guess who's footing the bill for that one? That's right: friends and family. Just kidding. You have no friends.

Strangle yourself:
Manliness: 9
Style: 4
Awesomeness: 4
Mess: 0
What you need: hands. How to do it: strangling yourself with your own hands has long been thought impossible because when your body stops getting enough oxygen, you pass out and start breathing normally again. Passing out while you try to kill yourself is like failing at failing. You're the one who has to deal with the embarrassment of having the paramedics finding your dumb ass passed out on the floor in a puddle of your own drool, as they begrudgingly take you to the hospital where the doctors would be so disappointed that one of them might try to strangle you themselves. And if they don't, give me a call; I will. Even the late Vincent Price strangled himself to death. Either that or lung cancer, but I can't be bothered to look it up. Eat shit.

Hold your breath:
Manliness: 9
Style: 3
Awesomeness: 8
Mess: 0
What you need: balls.
How to do it: this is similar to strangling yourself, but the difficulty level is hard. Harder than a priest at a playground.
Step 1: Hold your breath.Step 2: Wait 10 minutes, then go to step 3.Step 3: If you are reading this, you have failed.

Razor blade:
Manliness: 5
Style: 2
Awesomeness: 8
Mess: 7
What you need: razor, neck.
How to do it: how many times have you tried to kill yourself with a razor blade by slashing up your wrists, only to be told "it's down the highway, not across the street"? Then you listen to this advice and cut up your arms like some amateur dipshit who doesn't know what she's doing. Your boyfriend dumped you. You can't go on because you're the only person who has ever been dumped and this is the most painful thing that has happened to anyone who has lived 14 consecutive years, so it's time for the solace only decapitation can bring you. Make sure to go all the way through the spinal column.

Cadbury surprise:
Manliness: 9
Style: 8
Awesomeness: 12
Mess: 8
What you need: ice cream scooper, cadbury eggs.
How to do it: spoon out your eyes with the ice cream scooper, and replace them with cadbury easter eggs. Then using any of the methods above, kill yourself. Your family may hate the suicide, but everyone loves cadbury cream eggs! Why disappoint your loved ones with plain old boring eyes, when you can surprise them with chocolate instead?! Try to do it around easter. The kids will have hours of fun trying to find the last two treats.

Headbutt the sidewalk:
Manliness: 10
Style: 3
Awesomeness: 10
Mess: 4
What you need: a sidewalk.
How to do it:
Step 1: Slam your head into the sidewalk.Step 2: Repeat.
Headbutting is probably the manliest thing ever. Not only is it useful for suicide, it's also a great way to break up with your girlfriend. For example, I couldn't find the words to tell my ex that our relationship was over, so one day while we were watching TV I headbutt her in the tits. Then I picked up my jacket and left. No awkward goodbyes, no "still friends" bullshit. Just a couple of bruised titties and a failed relationship. I rule.

Lick a hooker's ass:
Manliness: 0
Style: 1
Awesomeness: 1
Mess: 10
What you need: a hooker, $0.75.
How to do it: find a hooker and inquire about her "ass buffet." If she doesn't know what you're talking about, punch her. If she does know what you're talking about, she shouldn't charge you more than 75 cents to lick her ass. You may even get away with not having to pay her since technically it's not sex (unless you're gay, but I'm not sure if it counts if it's a woman). Fair warning: not paying a hooker is considered shoplifting. Once you've done the (mis)deed, you may want to have some alcohol nearby. Make sure it's something strong like turpentine, because you'll be tasting a mouth full of funk and hookers don't always shit properly depending on their clientele. The tingling feeling in your mouth means the disease is working. Just sit back and relax while your penis falls off and you break out in hives. Then just wait a few months and if the other diseases don't get to you first, the AIDS will. Talk about a cheap suicide! At 75 cents, you can't afford not to kill yourself!

That's it for now. Just remember: it's your suicide, have fun with it.

My Hero Bert

2005-01-03T16:32:00.001-05:00

I can't help but talk about Bert.
His celebrity is subcultural, extending not far beyond Sesame Street's boundaries, but those boundaries encompass millions of kids for whom Bert is the archetypal dweeb. And what a geek he is: Timid, whiny, ungainly and way hung up. He's the Bert's narrow-minded rationalism blinds him to truths that Ernie, never troubled by logic, sees without trying. His analytic conformism makes him stick out. His weird hobbies (collecting paper clips and bottle caps) demonstrate not only the patheticism of acquisitiveness, but also an absorption in marginalia that is geekdom's defining feature.
Bert's steadfast belief in his own probity invariably cedes the moral high ground to Ernie. Self-righteousness flails in the face of carelessness; Bert is invariably correct, but Ernie is always right.
The Ernie's of the world show that irresponsibility only makes you more desirable, while Bert teaches it's OK to dump on people who ask for it.perfect image of who I think I am. His self-imposed vulnerability leaves Ernie no choice but to tease.
Still, unlike Big Bird, whose function is to teach tolerance of obnoxious jerks, Bert's shrill frailty does not isolate him socially -- he's Ernie's best friend, after all. And there is a related lesson here: As Bill Gates shows, being a dork does not necessarily preclude success in this code-ridden world.
But Bill and Bert also should show real-life dweebs that as they pursue petty virtue and self-absorbed excellence, they had better be prepared for the contempt that inevitably will be mixed with any awe they inspire.
Well, that's not really all that much, but it's my Bert.
You know though, maybe I am more like Ernie, ahh well fuck it.

My Hero Bert

2005-01-03T16:32:00.000-05:00

The evil nice

2005-01-02T18:50:00.000-05:00

It's dangerous to say it, but nice people are a nuisance, constantly imposing their values and preferences on others. And they usually get their way.
Because they are extremely aware of their own feelings, though, nice people come off as highly sensitive. That makes it seem obligatory to treat them with tender regard. Who wants to do or say anything hurtful to someone so pleasant? It doesn't matter how impervious they actually are to the feelings of others (especially others deemed not-so-nice) or how imperious they are in asserting their own point of view. Deference is due the nice lest their feelings be hurt.
Worse, most people are too intimidated to say "no" because the nice, when they don't get their way, get their pound of flesh. If you resist you are branded as mean, and you probably carry an inward load of guilt as well for stepping on such delicate toes.
Nice people know this, consciously or otherwise, and they use it. It's not a case of passive-aggressiveness, it's pure aggressive. Consider how the nice insist that everyone conform to their view of what people should be doing or how they should be acting and feeling. They have no compunction about openly criticizing others in ways that would normally be considered totally rude. They insist that everyone follow their preferred rituals and activities, however onerous. People can't help but favor those who present themselves so forcefully as sweet and sensitive.
If you openly object to any of this, holding the nice to ordinary standards of behavior, you are made out to be cantankerous, and probably a bully. Stand in the way of the nice and you will likely be ostracized, revealed as the arrogant fool you are. People would rather accede to the nice person's self-centered and platitudinous view of the world than deal with the moral complexity of criticism.

And the continuation

2004-12-29T03:44:00.000-05:00

the continuation from the other day.......

The fact that the blessings are so mixed is a big reason it is so hard to feel blessed. Most of the plusses listed here are environmentally extravagant and inequitably distributed among the peoples of the world, which gives one pause before proclaiming our times the best times ever. More pause is provided by the grim specifics of decay. However relativist it may be, the civilization-in-decline scenario is awfully plausible.

Befoulment of everything. Urban air and rivers may have gotten cleaner in Western countries, but the air and water in many other places is getting much worse as developing nations industrialize, and once-pristine environments have degraded everywhere. (No doubt American wilderness will disappear at an even faster rate in the next four years.) Even if the West has cleaned up living spaces in big cities, the amount of really nasty waste, including nuclear waste, spread elsewhere remains enormous.
Using up resources. Worse than pollution is the wild consumption of irreplaceable resources -- especially knowing full well that they are irreplaceable and that we could take measures immediately to slow their depletion. Yet if you really try to take seriously this robbery of future generations, you risk either marginalizing yourself into environmental fanaticism or giving in to fatalist cynicism about the likelihood of meaningful change. The one-step-forward, two-steps-back approach to conservation that our decadent political economy supports seems too slow and too indifferent to the real problems to catch up to the rate of exhaustion. So even if patient support for environmental causes is the right thing to do, it is far from clear that it is really virtuous or will prove successful in the long run.
World poverty. It's really nasty and really unfair and associates guilt to just about every instance of improvement noted here.
Decline of personal privacy and freedom. Credit cards and video cameras and computers epitomize mixed blessings. They grant an ease of access to the world around us that was formerly unthinkable. But they expose us to the scrutiny of external entities, corporate or government, at a level far beyond the fears of just a generation ago. Or so it seems. The state of personal privacy is another one of those relative things where it's hard to know how much worse or better off we really are. There seems to be a degree of tolerance for deviance today that would make even the advanced thinkers of the past blush. Yet it also seems safe to assume that as authorities operate with greater and greater efficiency, the eclipse of privacy is indeed orders of magnitude worse than was conceivable a generation ago. The difference between personal data kept on cards in a hundred file cabinets and data easily exchangeable across a single network is vast. Most dangerous of all is that the greatest threats to privacy and freedom are the most comfortable, and therefore the most invisible. No one campaigns for a police state, they just offer more efficient online ordering, help finding your stolen car or safer airline flights.
Public education. Our tolerance for mediocre schools is horrifying, as are the politics that make their ineffectiveness so hard to reverse. I once was astounded, in my naive structural determinism, to hear the social critic Stanley Aronowitz argue that the collapse of urban school systems reflected an intentional policy of disinvestment. I couldn't believe that such a patent disaster -- one that diminishes everyone, not just its immediate victims -- could be a matter of policy. Now I'm certain Aronowitz was correct, even if all the consequences were not fully intended. Our society's willingness to tolerate, or facilitate, urban collapse continues to pose unbearable costs to this day.
Decadence. Americans are taught to view their history as a march of progress, with the occasional (if sometimes extended) hiccups of civil war, Jim Crow subjection or economic depression. But the advance of civilization is not even, or even inevitable. Nations, societies and civilizations are swept away and superseded with less than the sum of what had been. The narrow course of our own times show that in politics and culture, good is not inevitably followed by the better. Quality can vanish, enlightenment wither, benevolence fade. Backsliding not only is possible, it happens all the time, meaning that decadence is not a phenomenon peculiar to ancient Rome or Weimar Germany.
The triumph of bureaucracy. Max Weber was so right. We live in an iron cage where the rationalizing logic of bureaucracy, political and corporate, has triumphed. Those remnants of earlier cultures and traditional societies that aren't already disappeared are faded and trapped in enclaves that are themselves encased within the cage. And everywhere we see the fortuitous and the truly private evaporating. The moments of respite are sweet, but mostly delusional -- bits and pieces of culture cobbled together to provide simulacra of authenticity and autonomy. There really is no escape.
Population. Who knows what the earth's carrying capacity really is. We might be headed for catastrophe, or production of food and other necessities may keep up with the numbers. But even if everyone is fed, who needs the crowds? The physical environment would be pleasanter with fewer people, not more.
God? Well, lots of people have been wrestling with things spiritual for a long time. But it's no less annoying that so many fundamental issues remain uncertain. It's even more annoying that we seem to know less, not more, as the years pass.
Mortality. I need hardly say it's the ultimate bummer, and a pretty good reason for always believing the world is in decline: From the harshly bounded perspective of any given individual, it is.

So much for the top really awful things. If they aren't bad enough, they set a depressing stage for a host of smaller-scale annoyances that further undercut any smugness one might have over the course of human progress.

Gas-powered leaf blowers. A poster child for stupidly useless modern conveniences. Besides wasting energy for marginal benefit, their noise is a menace.
Tomatoes. One of the things that a man-in-the-moonable society ought to be able to provide is a great tomato, widely and affordably available. While passably edible tomatoes are now tobe had at premium prices, the U.S. food distribution system still seems expressly designed to keep good native tomatoes out of supermarkets. Even at harvest time, when farmers markets everywhere have piles of ripe ones, the typical supermarket is oblivious.
Barney. I feel fortunate that my household has remained nearly Barney-free. While I was not the most discerning child, early on I still became suspicious of the foul dreck (some of it anyway) that is so often passed off as children's culture. It's probably hopeless, but I'm trying to give my daughter advantages I never had.
Collectible mania. This is the dark side of the admirable modern interest in preservation and appreciation of what came before (an interest driven partly by vain obession with authenticity). An avalanche of price information, mass distribution and mass demand means both that few bargains are to be had with quality old stuff and that there is a plethora of trashy merchandise at inflated prices that can always be justified by reference to some published price guide or, more recently, Ebay.
Hegemony of showbiz. Modern show business reflects a set of particular historical moments and forms of entertainment -- a weird amalgam of minstrelry and vaudeville, Broadway and Hollywood, filtered through radio and then TV. But why exactly should art, music, fiction, journalism and every other creative endeavor be folded into a show-business culture that elevates flip celebrity over all other values? Why should a talk show host morality dominate all of society? Even though there is still a certain layer where alternative cultures flourish unrecognized for a few moments in showbiz's shadow, ultimately any cultural phenomenon that achieves a significant social presence is transformed into just another of its degraded wings. To appreciate eccentric creativity is, to a large extent, to destroy it.
Eradication of local or regional distinctions in food, music, architecture, etc. Consider where popular music was in 1900, when sentimental favorites, minstrel tunes and operatic beauties dominated, and then ponder the far richer spectrum that followed. Without the great populist musical upsurges of the recent past -- blues, jazz, country & western, primitive rock & roll -- our musical life would be awfully impoverished. But those wellsprings are matters of history and never likely to be reproduced in a culture where communications are so thoroughly and commercially programmed. Consider also regional cooking, which looks to be receding even faster into a relic as franchise restaurants spread far beyond any reasonably appropriate place in our diets.
Music everywhere. Among the many virtues of travel abroad is that in some places you can enter a hotel, restaurant or other public space and not be assaulted by the drone of musical slop. Here, programmed sounds are universal in franchises and just about every other public place, while car radios, Walkmen and all the other reproduction devices keep the silence away everywhere else. The upshot: Music exists mostly as a mood regulator. It's the triumph of Musak theory, which shows how musical sequences can be scientifically structured to calibrate the behavior of shoppers. Traditional Musak itself has been displaced by a more popular repertoire, with the repertoire being the loser. All songs have been brought into the service of the Musak stimulus progression.
Development of every square inch of Florida. Soon nothing will be left of the natural condition outside of a few parks. What isn't already a housing tract has a for-sale sign on it.
Overcrowding. It's relative, since lots of places have been overcrowded for a long time. New Yorkers spilled over to clog up the countryside for hundreds of miles decades ago. There are just too many people going too many places, and not enough nice places to go around.
Sprawl. Overcrowding made metropolitan. Getting to the country from many cities is moot as one subdivision after another moves the country first hours and then days away. Country towns that were once a plausible getaway destination or even a residential option for commuters are now at best quaint downtowns for armies of executive homes.
Suburban houses. It's not that the bad ones are any worse than ever. The only charm that, say, a '50s ranch has is that it's from the '50s. The appeal is pure nostalgia. What's depressing now is the complete sameness of supposedly custom homes. The bland colonials and cautious ranches of an earlier time were on occasion counterbalanced by exercises in modern design. While these Contemporaries were hardly Mieses, they at least showed some influence of creative thought, and over time they have become more interesting. Go to an expensive subdivision today (at least in the Midwest), and every last house is some knockoff of somebody's vision of a chateau.
Master suites. The upper middle classes deserve their encounters with decadence, I suppose. In new construction these are a silly extravagance, in renovations they seem downright stupid, since they usually require the sacrifice of a perfectly good bedroom. With their clear shower doors and more floor space than most people's bedrooms, the master suite speaks useless luxury even more eloquently than a four-car garage. Undoubtedly the clear doors are meant to comfort the owner with a sense of privacy that is increasingly missing in our computerized society outside. They say this bathroom is so secluded that you don't need frosted glass to protect you. It's the ultimate inner sanctum. They also proclaim a spousal intimacy so perfect that no concealment could be desired. Meanwhile, the extravagance of physical space fuels a strange new kind of paradoxically private ostentation: It's sufficient that consumption be conspicuous to yourself.

So is everything worse today? Has progress marched on? All in all, the truth is that it's your choice.

And Yet...If the world is lousier than ever, why are so many things so much better?

2004-12-27T01:38:00.000-05:00

In every age humanity is in its worst state ever, and ours is no exception.

Recent golden ages all look irrevocably past: literature, movies, TV, politics, unionism, whatever. They all were more interesting and more fruitful some other time. Now literacy is in the toilet. Every Bond film is not as good as Goldfinger. The Simpsons has gone downhill. Non-entities dominate in Washington. Everywhere my friend Mark goes people tell him it was better before he got there.

Are things really worse? The truth of the perception isn't nearly as important as the perception itself. If you think things are worse, they are, and there is never a lack of evidence. However sunny your disposition, you were almost certainly filling in the blanks in spite of yourself as you read the paragraph above. Or consider the bell curve. Whether applied to human nature or to the universe we inhabit, it demonstrates by definition how the bad offsets the good.

How bad is it? Who knows. The decline of civilization is all about relativism. Any effort to measure that decline will be warped by the contingent perspective that is bound up in the creation of even the most objective scale. The measurement will be no more neutral than the time- and culture-bound realities of the measurer. Just picking what to measure will skew any assessments beyond the limits of impartial standards. Forget decline; it's as easy to find good news as bad. Cancer is treated. Organs are transplanted. Nuclear war is avoided

It's not just this fodder for spiritual uplift that weighs on the right side of the bell curve, fortunately. High-minded measures of progress can fade quickly in face of the daily grind of existence, not to mention its more fundemental terrors. Prosaic improvements are what give the most meaningful comfort in the midst of an eternally decaying civilization. And case by case, lots of things do seem a lot better today when compared with conditions just a generation ago.

What's better? Granted, many of the items on this list are trivial. But add them up and in the routine corners of our existence, they make a meaningful difference.

HOME

Central air. It may be an extravagance, but the option to stay cool through the summer makes a tangible difference in life day by day.
Latex paint. Lead paint was evil, and even without the lead, oil-based paint is a headache-inducing mess that should be left to professionals. Latex paint is a great example of one of the key modern tradeoffs: Quality at the top end of craftsmanship is sacrificed for a lot of convenience.
Thermopane windows. They keep houses warmer and eliminate the biannual struggle with storm windows.
Decent cheap furniture. I wish they'd had Ikeas and their ilk when I was a young lad. The stuff they sell won't last forever, but it is sensible, smartly designed and affordable.
Puffs Plus. Greasy tissues seem pretty superfluous, except on the fifth day of a nasty cold.
Velcro. Clearly a superior fastener.

TELEPHONES

We own them. It's hard to imagine, but phones were once the property of the phone company, which only leased them to consumers. The number of phones you could have, their functions and their locations, were totally controlled by the Bell System.
We pocket them. They can be cordless, they can be cellular, they can be tiny, which all add up to freedom of movement.
Long-distance. Long-distance once was like cellular, but worse. Scratchy connections that were extremely expensive and time-consuming to make were the rule. Now long distance is clear, cheap and immediate.
Touch-tone dialing. Push-button phones once seemed like an astounding improvement over fumbling with dials, which seems like barbarism in retrospect.

FINANCE

Credit cards and ATMs. They arrived decades apart, but together they freed consumers from the paper chain.
Bank by phone. A modest advance, but being able to check balances and cleared checks from home or work prevents a lot of financial turmoil.
Online trading. Yes, it can be another trap for the unwary, but so is the stock market generally. It represents a major convenience as well as a means of further democratizing investing.

BUYING

Vending machines. There was a time when a candy machine was only that, with just one row of goods available. Now you can even get sliders in some machines, and pay for them with dollars bills.
Discount stores. In my youth, E.J. Korvette was a big novelty. Wal-marts are now a scourge on small-town America, and the big boxes that discount stores come in are a drag on any geography they mar. But as long as we're stuck with them, Targets and Home Depots make some shopping a lot easier.
UPC. Product codes once seemed like the arrival of, take your pick, big brother or the beast. In fact, they were just a faster way of getting out of stores.

CARS

Safer. The principal safety feature in the family cars of my childhood was my father's arm, which popped in front of us in sudden stops. Cars once lacked seat belts, not to mention shoulder straps, air bags, padded interior surfaces and the improved construction that makes them less fatal in accidents.
Cleaner. Emissions controls, whatever their performance hit, make a real difference in external livability, not to mention public health.
Better gas mileage. 20 miles a gallon was once considered high mileage, though it's scandalous that 40 mpg is still considered impressive.
More reliable. Japanese manufacturing superiority drove all the automakers to do a far better job building their vehicles. Cars last longer and run better.
Better air conditioning. In some cars it works, and fast, and there's no more freon to destroy the ozone layer.
Rear-window defrosters. There was a time when you had to stop the car and wipe the rear windshield if you wanted to see behind you.
CD players. There also was a time when FM was optional, then came 8-tracks, then cassettes. Manufacturers are finally capable of putting decent sound systems into the cars they build.
More comfortable seats. The old benches were just that -- benches.
Better guardrails. Mostly, you no longer see many guardrails with a blunt end facing traffic. The business end is tapered, or if it is still blunt, there is another fine innovation -- the barrels of water or sand that cushion vehicles running into obstructions.
Road dots. The reflectors in the middle of the road make it easy to see the center line and, in warm states, easy to tell when you are crossing it.
Intermittent wipers. A totally logical invention.

OFFICE
Plain paper photocopiers. In the somewhat old days copies were messy, smelly and expensive. The only alternatives to commercial printing were cutting mimeo or ditto masters or using tons of carbon paper, each option requiring letter-perfect typing. Yes, photocopiers mean worthlessness is reproduced in astounding quantities, but they've eliminated a lot of frustrating hours of extraneous effort. By making it trivial to assure the availability of important documents they've done society a favor.
Laser printers. Same advantages as photocopiers.
Word processing. Forget making office life vastly superior, I think about what school would have been like had word processing been invented then. Getting the language just right is hard enough when you can cut and paste and overwrite with keystrokes. When you have to type and retype the same pages, with every sheet posing the risk of another typo of unerasable magnitude, it's hopeless.
Fax. Easy and reliable communication of important documents seemed like more of a triumph before email, but fax still has value.
Express delivery services. Getting stuff anywhere overnight is as cool as a fax. In the olden days you only had parcel post, then UPS, nearly-as-pokey. FedEx is a role model.
Desktop publishing. Like fax, this achievement also is partly eclipsed by the Internet. But it makes it fast and easy to create high-quality publications, which has had a democratizing influence on our culture. Desktop published newsletters and e-zines almost certainly helped create the populist infrastructure that structured the Web early on, since it supplied a readymade group of smalltime publishers looking for a wider outlet (this one included).
HTML. Its simplicity made Web publishing available to the masses, including the same smalltimers.
Computer spreadsheets. The powers of analysis these things provide are miraculous, and formerly the exclusive province of accounting experts.
Photoshop. Another piece of software that, like spreadsheets, has transformed industries, including graphic design, publishing and photography. Basically, spreadsheets and Photoshop stand in for all the software that has changed the way most of the world does business.
Cheap desktop scanners. Five years ago if you wanted a high-quality digital image, you had to schlep the picture to a service bureau for scanning. Now you can buy a scanner for $100 and do the job yourself.
Very small computers. I know this is another symptom of corporate brainwashing, but I still think it's really cool that you can easily haul around with you the sum of your work and creativity and life organization. When PDAs match today's desktop for capacity and speed, I won't complain.
Pens. Smooth and more reliable Uniballs mean no regrets for Bic stick pens or even Parker T-Ball Jotters.

AIR TRAVEL
Sometimes faster. Airplanes have become more miserably crowded, but they still don't seem to spend nearly as much time circling airports as they did in the '70s.
Sometimes easier. Airport counters are much more efficient, presumably a contribution of modern computing.
Etickets. They remove one more nuisance.
Frequent flier programs. They're a gimmick, but they do make flying first class an occasional option.
The 777. It's the best jetliner ever, I believe.
Name-brand restaurants and stores in airports. No more overpriced mystery hot dogs.
Self-service. Checking flights, fares and seats online give you a little more control over travel arrangements.

MUSIC
Early music on original instruments. Who knows about the musicological debates, but this movement's attention to history and detail has made a lot of great music easily available.
Stereo. Reproduced sound once was flat. Now it has dimension.
Walkmen. Walkmen are an example of how breathtaking technological breakthroughs creep into our lives unnoticed as such.Ubiquitous and ridiculously cheap, they would have unimaginable 40 years ago, the era of tinny transistor radios.
World music. I don't care about it, but I've got to acknowledge the benefit of so many different kinds of music getting broader exposure.
CDs. Audiophiles don't like them, but for ordinary people their playing time and resilience mean much cleaner sound with many fewer trips to the turntable. They also spawned reissue programs that have brought lots of unavailable material back on the market.

FOOD
Fresh seafood everywhere. In my youth, it was fish sticks and frozen filets.
Fresh produce everywhere. The modern food distribution system has its downside (as noted shortly), but it's able to make an incredible variety of produce available all over the place at all different times of the year.
Coffee. I don't drink it, but I'm assured it's vastly improved.
Huge variety of ethnic restaurants. There was a time when pizza and chop suey were the most exotic foods in most American cities. Now ethnic restaurants are one of the few bulwarks against the triumphal march of the franchises.
Ethnic groceries and ethnic sections in supermarkets. Similar to the restaurant situation. It's no longer just LaChoy and Old El Paso, at least in the better city groceries.

HEALTH
Antidepressants. They work sometimes, and can mean everything for the people who benefit.
Epidurals. Maintaining consciousness while avoiding enormous pain is a big plus.
Disposable contact lenses. You can wear them comfortably until they break.
Light-weight plastic-lensed glasses. Heads are happier.
Plastic shampoo bottles. One less little thing to worry about. This is how they arrived (for me anyway): In a TV commercial someone knocks over a bottle of Prell shampoo, then exclaims, "It didn't break! Why, it didn't break!"
Waning of childhood diseases. Let's not kid ourselves how important this is. It is difficult for those born in the post-war West to conceive what it meant that a baby was as likely to die in childhood as to grow up.
Cochlear implants. Not popular in the deaf community, but hearing is a fine thing.
Less cigarette smoking/More No Smoking sections. But why is it that smokers are allowed to maintain their near-monoply on the nightclubs where most music is performed?
Palatable children's medicines. I still remember the quasi-orange-flavored children's aspirin I had to take. They finally figured out how to make them taste like something halfway appealing.

TV
They're in color now.
They're cheap now.
They have remote control. The idea of having to walk up to the set to change channels or adjust volume seems barbaric.
VCRs. There are lots of ways progress erodes personal autonomy, but this is one of the powerful counterexamples -- all the more powerful considering how important TV is to our cultural lives. You can control what you watch, when, and you can skip commercials. Bring on the TIVO!
Big screens. Personally, I watch most of my TV on a 13-inch set, but I envy the big ones.
Quality sound. There was a time when the option of running sound through your stereo didn't exist. Short of that, the speakers on some sets are now as good as you get with a cheap stereo system.
Portable DVD players. Can't wait until they're affordable.
The Simpsons. No better TV ever.

OTHER CONSUMER ELECTRONICS
Fully automatic cameras. For most of us, focusing is a very bad thing. Digital cameras. When large quantities of pictures are needed but not likely to be treasured, this is a great advance.
Dubbing decks. Media companies don't like them, consumers do.
Electric razors. Those with delicate complexions no longer have to trade off buckets of blood for a reasonably close shave.
GPS. Someday it will be impossible to get lost, which isn't good privacy-wise but still potentially a life saver.

ARCHITECTURE & DESIGN
Craftsman revival. As reproduction furniture goes, Mission is pretty cool, though getting beyond a few basic patterns quickly runs into big bucks.
Preservation. At least now there is sometimes a battle before historic structures are destroyed.
Highways. Similarly, Rt. 66 and other old roads now have a chance of being celebrated before being obliterated.
Great new stuff. Um um um. Any ideas on what is actually good and recent would be appreciated.

ENVIRONMENT
Quality. The water and the air are generally cleaner in the U.S. than they have been for a long time previous.
Lead. Much less of it around.
Protection. Wetlands, wilderness, open space and species in general are still gravely threatened -- more than ever now. But they have more organized defenders than a generation ago.

MEDIA
The Web. No tedious commentary here, but it's already indispensable.
Movies. Wide and shallow theaters, with cupholders!
Email. Also indispensable.
Tolerance of expression. However bland and corporate-dominated mass communication is, there is far more weird and offensive stuff being distributed openly now than 40 years ago.
NPR and PBS. Marginal (esp. PBS), but ahead of commercial broadcasting. The amazing thing is that radio is now a vaster wasteland than television.

CULTURE
Hello Kitty and weird Japanese toys in general. If something is going to be wildly popular, better bizarre. Japan possesses some special national talent to make mass-merchandised junk really cool.
Outsider art. Good to the extent that it encourages appreciation of a broader spectrum of work, as opposed to being a marketing gimmick.
Old stuff. Disposability is often considered a hallmark of contemporary culture. But decades ago the threads that make up popular culture were even thinner. Movies played for a few days at the theater then disappeared -- in the silent era literally, with the vast majority of footage dissolved forever. Music made the hit parade and was forgotten. Toys were used and thrown out. Society is still merciless to whole classifications of culture. But there also is a significant following for what came before, and that market has resulted in the preservation and dissemination of old movies, old music and a good deal of other old stuff that seem especially enriching the more sour one is on recent production. Zines. Another admirably broader venue for individual expression.
Feminism. Anyone who doesn't think this has made a huge difference is deeply reactionary or deeply ignorant.
Racial equality. It's a standard, even if not close to being realized.
Hats and ties optional. Hats are no longer obligatory for men, and ties are going the same way. I look forward to the eventual triumph of casual every day.
Modern sneakers. They don't need to be $150 to be vastly superior to the PF Flyers and Keds of the past.
R. Crumb. By far the greatest cartoonist of our time and maybe the greatest ever.
Fear. Nuclear annihilation was a principal constant of my childhood. Through my high school years, whenever I heard an out-of-the-ordinary siren I would be convinced it was an air raid and the missiles were coming. The threat hasn't vanished, but it is no longer the principal shaper of our consciousness.

FAMILY
Disposable diapers. Current thinking is that they're not so bad environmentally, and they make baby care fit for amateurs.
Decline of corporal punishment. People still hit, but it is not nearly as acceptable as it once was.
Camcorders. Video will never be as quaint as 8mm film, but the superior production values (and sound) give these movies a lot more substance.
Daycare. It ought to be better and more available, but it's there.
Safer baby stuff. As a result of two of the right wing's great bugaboos -- government regulation and tough liability laws -- there are fewer ways for babies to choke or otherwise injure themselves on their furniture and toys.

PLASTIC
It gets its own category because, despite misuse, when applied productively plastic really is a miracle substance. It's a shame that so much oil is burnt for fuel, since it ought to be conserved to make plastic, which adds much more otherwise unduplicatable value to our lives, whether heart valves, unbreakable jars, insulation or light-weight materials of all varieties. (Brief crackpot digression: Biodegradable plastic makes a bad situation worse. It may save some landfill space around cities for the moment, but not many centuries from now, when oil is gone and coal going, one of the great industries will be plastic mining. Anything we do to reduce the amount of material available is doubly robbing posterity -- we're wasting both the oil and the plastic we make from it.)

ON THE OTHER HAND
So if there are so many blessings out there, why is it hard to feel blessed?

(will continue in a couple days)

Debunking the Beaver

2004-12-23T14:52:00.000-05:00

Consider the startling cultural triumph of Leave It To Beaver.

The producers of this unassuming family sitcom could never have imagined that the Cleavers would one day become America's paradigm for the ideal middle-class family. More incredibly, Beaver attained that mythic status even though something was dreadfully wrong in the supposedly ideal world of Mayfield, USA.

The problem wasn't, as some critics have objected, that the Cleavers and their all-white hometown were too male, middle class and comfortably heterosexual to represent a legitimate idealization. That is true, perhaps, but it misses the point: The retro charm of Leave It To Beaver is based exactly on its perceived deviation from the real world.

But nostalgia buffs should look a little more closely before embracing the Cleavers as the ideal family they never had (and can't hope to duplicate) because, when you penetrate the idyllic surface, it's hard to imagine anyone really wanting to be like Ward, June and the boys. A close inspection reveals a familial purgatory worthy of Tennessee Williams--toned down for TV, certainly, but still consumed with rage, sexual turmoil and plain old mendacity. This family needs help.

Ward: Much idealized as the archetypal swell Dad, the day-to-day burdens of fatherhood in fact overwhelmed Ward Cleaver. Rare was the episode in the early years that he contained his fury over his sons' misdeeds, sometimes real ones, often imagined. By television convention, Ward had to see the error of his ways, backing off and restoring the household's equilibrium before each show's conclusion. TV isn't Tennessee Williams, after all. Can anyone doubt, though, the emotional damage his rantings and unfair accusations--let's name the evil: his emotional abuse--must have done to the boys?
In later episodes, Beaver's writers smoothed out Ward's character a bit, making him less the dangerously flustered hothead and more the wise and just father. But that, if anything, made Ward a still greater terror. As he became more serenely virtuous, he became that much more unreasonably demanding of his family, turning the always-less-than-perfect Wally and Beaver into liars and cowards, and June into a nervous wreck.

June: Each week Mrs. Cleaver struggled to maintain a facade of middle-class civility, nervously intervening to cool her husband's anger or to interdict some especially lunatic expectation aimed at her sons, especially the behaviorially challenged Beaver. That her spouse was so obsessed with righteousness certainly didn't help June cope with her own problems, whether the numbing boredom of an isolated suburban existence or her evident terror at Wally's emerging sexuality. (That issue charges several of the later episodes, most memorably the one in which Frances bamboozles Wally into lending her his sweater, sending June into a panic over the perceived intimacy.)

Wally: The elder of the two Cleaver boys had more to trouble him than just rising hormones. He was as funny looking as any teenager and not especially quick-witted. His only obvious physical talent relegated him to that refuge of athletically inclined dweebs and jocks who don't make the football team: track. But worst of all was the constant fear of Beaver sending Ward into a rage with some antic. Any big brother worries about his younger sibling being a drip, but with a father as unpredictable and demanding as Ward, friends as obnoxious as Eddie and a sibling as pitiful as Beaver, who can blame a nervous Wally for always whining at his little brother to knock it off.

Beaver: That Theodore Cleaver is pathetic is the show's raison de etre. Whether he's making a fool of himself in front of Wally's friends, disrupting Miss Landers' classroom or bugging his parents with an inane question, Beaver is a sorry sight.
He also is a pathological liar, a kid whose self-image is so poor that it can be sustained only through fantastic fabrications. When he's not trying to incompetently fib his way clear of trouble, he is busy making up aggrandizing stories about Ward's alleged wartime heroism or about Indian battles on the site of his home. But then lying comes naturally to a kid who would do anything to avoid his father's temper and gain his parsimonious approval.

It is not to the credit of Mayfield's social-service professionals that this messy situation rated no more than an occasional note from Miss Landers or phone call from Mrs. Rayburn.
If the social workers and psychologists weren't calling on the Cleaver household, though, perhaps it was because there were plenty of other woes to contend with. Once you get below the superficial contentment, Leave It To Beaver was ahead of its time in suggesting the troubled lives of youths condemned to suburban anomie. Its portraits of the soft-core delinquent Eddie Haskell, the hen-pecked Lumpy and the spoiled Gilbert put it in the vanguard of '50s pop sociology.

Most memorable of all its troubled characters was poor Larry Mondello, who inhabited the hard core margin of Mayfield society. Here was a case that the teachers and social workers and psychologists could not have handled on their own. It would have taken the police to put the Mondello household in order. Being characterized as fat, ugly and stupid wasn't sorrow enough for Larry. He had to be a repeatedly abused child as well. How many times, after getting into mischief with the Beaver, did Larry worry about the beating he was going to get when he arrived home? How often was he amazed when Beaver said his father didn't slap him around him for the same misdeeds?

Yet despite these many cracks in Mayfield's picture windows, Leave It To Beaver has won a place in the nation's affections denied to such contemporary family comedies as Father Knows Best, the Donna Reed Show and My Three Sons. It helped that Beaver went off the air before becoming self-parody. The others dragged on well into the sixties--My Three Sons, into the seventies--more than wearing out their welcome. Aesthetically, too, Beaver was the superior show. Its lively pacing, naturalistic dialogue and realistic lighting, among other technical virtues, give it an enduring freshness that makes even such old favorites as Dobie Gillis seem sadly lugubrious when viewed today.

Leave It To Beaver's staying power also wasn't hurt by its owners tenacity in aggressively syndicating and marketing the show on broadcast stations long before the cable-fueled revival of black-and-white television. Likewise, Jerry Mathers and Tony Dow paid dues, bravely stumping for Beaver back in the seventies when it was still little more than a subject for trivia questions and underground rumors about Mather's alleged demise in Vietnam or Ken Osmond's falsely rumored career as a porn star.

It is to their credit that the Beaver stars, unlike so many other TV actors, didn't repudiate the program as a youthful folly or bewail careers putatively ruined by its typecasting. In this regard, too, none of Leave It To Beaver's principals suffered the personal problems that befell, for example, members of the Father Knows Best family. Nor, for that matter, could any of the show's cast boast even the relative later Hollywood success of, say, a Father Know Best's Robert Young with Marcus Welby M.D. or the Donna Reed Show's Bob Crane with Hogan's Heroes.

Hugh Beaumont died, but otherwise the Leave It To Beaver cast simply went more or less into seclusion as far as the small screen was concerned. They remained untouched as Cleavers, and they were eminently available when the time came to bring the show's growing popularity to its logical conclusion with Still The Beaver, the most obvious television reunion ever next to Escape From Gilligan's Island.

That Wally and Beaver should have emerged in the Still The Beaver TV movie not in the image of the ideal, mythologized Ward, but as true sons of their so obviously troubled father, complete with a modern set of neuroses, demonstrates sound insight by the modern producers into the original show's secrets.

Like real-life family drama, the most resonant action in Leave It To Beaver is subtextual. By suggesting the emotional turbulence underneath the idyllic surface, Beaver paralleled the actual experience so many of the show's fans had growing up in real-life suburban families. Despite all the cant about the perfect childhood, that is the show's real triumph. We may think we see perfection, but most of us really do just see ourselves.

2004-12-20T10:56:00.000-05:00

Dear Santa,

How's it going, big guy? It's me, you know...Jeremy. Look, I know we haven't been on good terms for the past 23 odd years on account of me being a sinner and not believing in you but I can look past all that, can't you?
Here's the deal. I know your schedule is probably going to be extremely busy this upcoming Christmas, what with all the rich folk's houses you have to pay a visit to but I was hoping that maybe, just maybe you'd find it in that mystical heart of yours to pay a visit to the loneliest jack off in the world...me.
I've never asked for anything from you before and I promise, I'll never ask again. I was just hoping that this year you could grant my wishes. I swear, I've been a good boy in '04. I haven't slapped any prostitutes around NOR did I burn down any black churches this year. My list is quite short really, and considering your alleged powers, none of my wishes would be terribly difficult for you to make manifest. Take note fat man, I don't want any mix ups.

1: A kajillion dollars. If that's not possible, I'll settle for a zillion. And no checks either. Kris, I want that shit in small, unmarked bills or your cunt of wife here is gonna get it!

2: I want "X to the Z" Xzibit to personally come down to my house here in Indiana and pimp my ride. Now it's a 1996 Mitsubishi Galant, so he's got his work cut out for him and I'll probably just sell the damned thing the moment I get it into my greedy little hands, but DAMN IT, Everybody else and their mother is rolling around on dubs and shit EXCEPT FOR ME! And I don't want not fruity assed theme either, like a golf ball cleaner in the trunk or five X-Boxes lined up on the roof! I just want it all pimp. Hook it up with a retractable glass bong that slides up out of the floorboards and I promise I'll be extra good in 2005.

3: A deepthroat blowjob from Lindsay Lohan while Hillary Duff and the mom from "That 70's Show" take turns giving me a "Rusty Trombone". And not one of those quick two licks and she's done blowjobs, I want a throat gurgling, vomit inducing blowjob that even Max Hardcore would be proud of.

4: A cure for cancer, AIDS, and heart disease all rolled into one. But only let ME hold onto it. I don't want to share.

5: Booze. Plenty of it.

6: I want an end to all wars and the differences between mankind and his fellow brethren. And if that's not possible, then just nuke everybody else except for us, the good guys.

7. Make my girlfriend actually think it's SEXY that I sit around all day smoking pot and playing Grand Theft Auto.

8: Last, but not least...did I mention booze?

With that all said, I certainly hope that this christmas list gets to you safely at the North Pole. I know it must be difficult, what with the sitting on your fat ass all year long until the 23rd of December and forcing innocent little elves to do your slave labor, but I know deep down in this shriveled, black heart of mine that you'll make my wishes come true this holiday season. I'll leave out a plate of freshly baked hemp cookies for you, Santy...enjoy. Enclosed with this letter is a piece of your wife's ear. I'm not fucking kidding about that kajillion dollars, fat man.

Happy Kwanzaa

Something for all you gun control advocates to think about.....

2004-12-15T11:50:00.000-05:00

In 1929, the Soviet Union established gun control. From 1929 to 1953,about 20 million dissidents, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.

In 1911, Turkey established gun control. From 1915 to 1917, 1.5 million Armenians, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.

German established gun control in 1938. From 1939 to 1945, 13 million Jews and others who were unable to defend themselves were rounded up and exterminated.

China established gun control in 1935. From 1948 to 1952, 20 million political dissidents, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.

Guatemala established gun control in 1964. From 1964 to 1981, 100,000 Mayan Indians, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.

Uganda established gun control in 1970. From 1971 to 1979, 300,000 Christians, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.

Cambodia established gun control in 1956. From 1975 to 1977, one million 'educated' people, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up,and exterminated.

Defenseless people rounded up and exterminated in the 20th Century because of gun control: 56 million.

It has no been over 12 months since gun owners in Australia were forced by new law to surrender 640,381 personal firearms to be destroyed by their own government, a program costing Australia taxpayers more than $500 million dollars.

The 1st year results are now in: Australia-wide homicides are up 3.2%, assaults are up 8.6 %, armed robberies are up 44 & (yes, 44%!) in the state of Victoria alone, homicides with firearms are now up 300 percent. (Note that while the law-abiding citizens turned them in, the criminals did not, and criminals still possess their guns!)

While figures over the previous 25 years showed a steady decrease in armed robbery with firearms, this has changed drastically upward in the past 12 months,since the criminals now are guaranteed that their prey is unarmed.

There has also been a dramatic increase in break-ins and assaults of the ELDERLY. Australian politicians are at a loss to explain how public safety has decreased, after such monumental effort and expense was expended in "successfully ridding Australian society of guns."

The Australian experience and the other historical facts above prove it.

You won't see this data on the American evening news or hear our president, governors or other politicians disseminating this information.

Guns in the hands of honest citizens save lives and property and, yes, gun-control laws affect only the law-abiding citizens.

The next time someone talks in favor of gun control, please remind them of this history lesson.

"With guns, we are citizens. Without them, we are subjects."

2004-12-11T05:07:00.000-05:00

for her
When I open up
what’s inside of me,
I show you the secrets
I dare to keep.
And when the one you hold close
is me,
I feel things I dare not speak.
You’re my reason for this,
You’re my reason for that.
The same old things you’ve heard before.
But when I say them
again and again,
I swear I can only mean them more.
Every minute of every day,
Is spent with you in my mind.
My tongue can’t say what my heart does feel,
And I do things for reasons that I can’t find.
I love you, it’s true,
believe me on thisI love you;
I need you, with every kiss
My mind goes blank
and my mouth goes dry
You make me so happy that sometimes
I cry.
I have you,
I need you,
I love you,
it’s true.
I never will be through feeling every thought of you.
what else can i say but;
wow!
never thought that you existed,
and would cross my path,
but here you are
and i must say that
i know that this is goin to last.

You've made a fool of everyone.

2004-12-11T05:05:00.000-05:00

You know i will be honest. i dont even know where to begin with this.
my emotions are flying all over the atmosphere in my head:

mainly a terrorful angst towards another human being (deandramatic)

Jeremy,

I have no idea what you are talking about. I have stopped associating with you and all of your friends awhile ago. I have also asked you repeatedly to leave me alone, by which you attempted with various screen names to get under my skin, to no avail. I will only say this once more, leave me alone. Obviously if you did lie to me, I already knew that, which is why I was so quick to say goodbye. Now, let's be adults. I say goodbye now, and you let me, ok? That's what adults do. Goodbye.

Deanndra

Hmmm intersting, you have no idea what i am talking about, i am not as ignorant as you wish i were to be, for i know it is you spreading stupid shit about me to my love, in some sorts of attempt to "give her the truth about me" or "help her", hard to do without the real truth about me isnt it. damn if you only knew. it is also interesting that you say you quit associating with my friends, yet you seem to be associating to ash, and that would be a friend, damn contradicted yourself there didnt you, if you only knew the shit she has spoken of you. lets be adults and say goodbye, hmmm, adults dont save silly IM convos to discs and store them away. something a 12 year old does. so first you come up to our age and then we will talk.

a fear also resides in my mind with thinking that Ash seems to believe distruths and stories the aforementioned person speaks of. this makes me fear that anything said about my character is going to be believed, and that she is going to continue some sort of charade with double d dispite knowing how she really is, knowing she is spiting me, and knowing there is no truth behind anything she says. this fear continues on to Ash believing these things and not wanting to be with me. a fear that anything i say or do will be followed with distrust on her end. if i cant be trusted or if she can not stand up for me when knowing good and well this person is just looking for a way to get at me then where does that leave me.
lost, yea exactly.
makes me wonder if i should trust in this situation, is she gonna continue to look for things negativly about me for some reason? am i gonna have to worry that no matter what i do i am being spoken of negatively? have the distrust her being "aquaintances" with a sworn enemy of mine? is that fair to me? but who am i to ask her not to speak to this person ever again, for i know she will anyway.

there is happiness running in there tho, with the fact that my child is being incubated in a wonderful young woman that dispite her struggles sanity wise with the stress, will become and is already a great mother. has shown me the love that i have given her, and has improved through me.

i dont know what to do, what to think, or where to go with it all.

2004-12-07T20:20:00.000-05:00

Make Some Easy Cash With 5 Bucks

Self-Suckdom

2004-12-04T16:58:00.000-05:00

How does one know if one sucks?
I mean how do you ever know if you are any good at what you do?
The only real gauge of our abilities is the feedback we get from our peers, but they are subject to the same relativist principles as the rest of us. And masses of people paying compliment to your work, in whatever form it might take, could indeed be a further indication of your suck done! For is it not true that the masses are asses?
Think of the most prosperous bands in the United States today; they are the worst shit I have ever had the displeasure of hearing. White people co-opting urban cultures slang, styles and mannerisms and making a bucking fortune in doing so.
It is kind of sickening.
Not to dissimilar from the whole Elvis phenomenon of the last era. A suburban white kid steals the underground black cultures songs and ideas and becomes known as "the king"but even the ones not rapping and 'owe-ing' out suck.
The adult contemporary movement popularized by the hybrid pop/country/Christian rock singers. As if one of those three in the phrase wasn't enough crap on its own, we get singers and bands that categorize all three! wheeee!
I have just come to realize that I am a complaining piece of shit. The only things I can think to write about are my numerous complaints and grievances that I am too humble and reserved to speak aloud. I guess I could. Just complain out loud like the rest of the world I mean. But that would make me feel like the rest of the world. Outward and out of line. I have always felt that an impartial confidante couldn't exist in a human being. One that didn't charge by the hour at least. So I have become the introvert who spills the milk to one and only one source.
The page.
The pen.
The song (well, three.)
And how vain of me to do so and let others read it. better yet, pay to read it. I guess there's some thick irony involved in taking the stance as the quiet complainer. As I am seeing tonight, I mouth off as much as the person. I just have a different and more fiendish way of routing those frustrations. I guess if I were to start again and choose my angst's mode of transport, I wouldn't really do it any differently.
Perhaps I would just try and tell myself that somewhere, someone is reading it and listening to it or seeing it thoroughly enjoying themselves. be it out of pure entertainment and comedy, or because of the simple fact that they understand where it is I am coming from.

Jesus a racist?

2004-12-03T11:57:00.000-05:00

Everyone knows that Fox News represents the purest, most unbiased (stop laughing damn you!), most comprehensive, non-brainwashing news reporting out there.
Don't try and think it doesn't.
It does.
I can prove it.

You see, for longer than anyone can remember, Fox has been the mouthpiece of the religious, right-wing sub-morons who run Americaland plc.
You know the spiel: terrorists bad, God's new son George W. good, making money at the plebs' expense good, putting brain in gear bad.
That sort of thing.

So it's with some relief to see that they've finally employed someone who isn't afraid to speak out.

Ladies, gentlemen, and that weird other third gender that often visits, I'd like to welcome you to ...

John Moody, Senior Vice President, Fox News Editorial!
He may be getting the memos telling him that cats stuck in trees are because of fundamentalist Islamic extremists and bonuses for every time he can link business scandals to Osama bin Laden but he's certainly not listening to them.
Why not take a look at this perfect example from his most recent editorial masterpiece entitled Sorry, But It's Time To Stop Apologizing:

"Do we expect American soldiers to be morally superior to the people who are trying to kill them, and at the same time win a war in which there are no rules of conduct for one side? Does that somehow smack of ... racism?"

He's absolutely right! When dealing with other people you have to sink to their levels; anything else is discriminatory. Just like Jesus didn't. So Jesus' teachings somehow smacks of ... racism! Hoo boy!

Wonder if anyone's told the Pope.

The Short Proof of Evolution

2004-12-02T01:55:00.000-05:00

This is a quick post to those whom don't believe in evolution, and stray more to the creatism. This would be more of a post to piss off DD but hell, she has broken her will power and ignores us all. I don't find that being very strong, but being too weak to handle the pressure.
Anyhum, i know more of you out there find that God created everything in this world, and evolution is a myth yet to be proven.
Well i hate to be the burly black rapist with the 14" cock ripping apart your convictions, but try and say this stuff below is not correct, it's been broken down pretty simple for you.

We live, we are constantly told, in a scientific age. We look to science to help us achieve the good life, to solve our problems (especially our medical aches and pains), and to tell us about the world. A great deal of our education system, particularly the post-secondary curriculum, is organized as science or social science. And yet, curiously enough, there is one major scientific truth which vast numbers of people refuse to accept (by some news accounts a majority of people in North America)--the fact of evolution. Yet it is as plain as plain can be that the scientific truth of evolution is so overwhelmingly established, that it is virtually impossible to refute within the bounds of reason. No major scientific truth, in fact, is easier to present, explain, and defend.

Before demonstrating this claim, let me make it clear what I mean by evolution, since there often is some confusion about the term. By evolution I mean, very simply, the development of animal and plant species out of other species not at all like them, for example, the process by which, say, a species of fish gets transformed (or evolves) through various stages into a cow, a kangaroo, or an eagle. This definition, it should be noted, makes no claims about how the process might occur, and thus it certainly does not equate the concept of evolution with Darwinian Natural Selection, as so many people seem to do. It simply defines the term by its effects (not by how those effects are produced, which could well be the subject of another argument).

The first step in demonstrating the truth of evolution is to make the claim that all living creatures must have a living parent. This point has been overwhelmingly established in the past century and a half, ever since the French scientist Louis Pasteur demonstrated how fermentation took place and thus laid to rest centuries of stories about beetles arising spontaneously out of dung or gut worms being miraculously produced from non-living material. There is absolutely no evidence for this ancient belief. Living creatures must come from other living creatures. It does no damage to this point to claim that life must have had some origin way back in time, perhaps in a chemical reaction of inorganic materials (in some primordial soup) or in some invasion from outer space. That may well be true. But what is clear is that any such origin for living things or living material must result in a very simple organism. There is no evidence whatsoever (except in science fiction like Frankenstein) that inorganic chemical processes can produce complex, multi-cellular living creatures (the recent experiments cloning sheep, of course, are based on living tissue from other sheep).

The second important point in the case for evolution is that some living creatures are very different from some others. This, I take it, is self-evident. Let me cite a common example: many animals have what we call an internal skeletal structure featuring a backbone and skull. We call these animals vertebrates. Most animals do not have these features (we call them invertebrates). The distinction between vertebrates and invertebrates is something no one who cares to look at samples of both can reasonably deny, and, so far as I am aware, no one hostile to evolution has ever denied a fact so apparent to anyone who observes the world for a few moments.

The final point in the case for evolution is this: simple animals and plants existed on earth long before more complex ones (invertebrate animals, for example, were around for a very long time before there were any vertebrates). Here again, the evidence from fossils is overwhelming. In the deepest rock layers, there are no signs of life. The first fossil remains are of very simple living things. As the strata get more recent, the variety and complexity of life increase (although not at a uniform rate). In all the countless geological excavations and inspections (for example, of the Grand Canyon), no one has ever come up with a genuine fossil remnant which goes against this general principle (and it would only take one genuine find to overturn this principle).
Well, if we put these three points together, the case for evolution is air tight. If all living creatures must have a living parent, if living creatures are different, and if simpler forms were around before the more complex forms, then the more complex forms must have come from the simpler forms (e.g., vertebrates from invertebrates). There is simply no other way of dealing reasonably with the evidence we have. Of course, one might deny (as some do) that the layers of the earth represent a succession of very lengthy epochs and claim, for example, that the Grand Canyon was created in a matter of days, but this surely violates scientific observation as much as does the claim that, say, vertebrates just, well, appeared one day out of a spontaneous combination of chemicals.

To make the claim for the truth of evolution in this way is to assert nothing about how it might occur. Darwin provides one answer (through natural selection), but others have been suggested, too (including some which see a divine agency at work in the transforming process). The above argument is intended, however, to demonstrate that the general principle of evolution is, given the scientific evidence, logically unassailable and that, thus, the concept is a law of nature as truly established as is, say, gravitation. To deny evolution (as defined here) is on the same level of logic as to deny the fact that if someone jumps off the balcony of a high rise apartment and carries no special apparatus, she will fall towards the ground. That scientific certainty makes the widespread rejection of evolution in our modern age something of a puzzle (but that's a subject for another essay). In a modern liberal democracy, of course, one is perfectly free to reject that conclusion, but one is not legitimately able to claim that such a rejection is a reasonable scientific stance.

hail, right brain!

2004-12-01T15:39:00.000-05:00

watching the news is like cutting yourself with a dull blade over and over then pouring lemon juice into the wound. it completely eludes me as to why so many americans can use it as their primary information source. and their daily variety entertainment boot! i am not sure which one actually is more frightening; the pseudo-information source or the place of refuge!
we are a culture of self inflicted wounds. defamation and spiritual mutilation. and how ironic that the practice of 'body manipulation' and or tattoo art and the like are so culturally frowned upon. these are people seen largely in everyday society as outcasts, heathens, self-destructive do-no-gooders, sinners, etc. but it conveniently escapes most people's observations that usually the people who choose life affirming practices like tattooing, ecstatic practice and artistic endeavors are more likely to not watch the news.
a vast majority of people watch the news. whether it is for routine, sense of safety, entertainment or otherwise. and a cast majority of people in this country at least have an irrational fear of everything. fear of their neighbors, fear of flying, fear of disease, fear of foreigners, fear of leaving the house. or some might call them phobias.
one might even deduce that we are a nurtured nation of... whats the fucking word im looking for? i dont know. a nation of phobics we'll say. we are taught to be afraid of everything. and it is so interesting that children, who come into the world so pure and true and full of hope and wonder are slowly taught to be this way. its actually quite sick. youd think that growing older would lend a sense of well being with the years it brought. youd think that the more you knew the better off youd be. its funny because i can hear that stupid confuscian bit of nonsense in my head right now, 'the more you learn, the less you know' or something like that.
it infuriates me when i watch the news for more than five minutes! the way they start to tell you what the weather's gonna be like the next few days then stop and say, 'after the break we'll really tell you the rest.' but then proceed to fill you up with as much ill-sighted negativity and bullshit so by the time they actually tell you what temperature it going to be tomorrow you are to depressed to care and scared to leave the house!
'terrorist threats are at an all-time high, and authorities are urging all southlanders to stalk up on duct tape, plastic sheeting, and gas masks. but itll be 76 degrees tomorrow and there's a parade at the community center, brent goodman reporting.'tomorrow i want to get a tattoo. i would like to plead with my parents to stop watching the news and come outside with me. come out and play in the sun and leave their shoes and gasmasks at home. leave the house unlocked and forget the turn on the answering machine. forget to put sunblock spf 70 on our noses and get a little pink. perhaps revel in each others presence and forget that the world is in a continuous state of emergency, the polar ice caps are melting, the government is irrevocably corrupt, missles are in route to some innocent persons home. when will we all stop being brain washed into fear by the media and think for ourselves and enjoy the life that was given to us?
its like my saying
i hate picketing but i dont know how to show it.

Releasing for Deandramtic

2004-11-30T13:53:00.000-05:00

Well this is just me being a complete asshole for sure with this one. I am actually stooping to a whole new low for myself by going into this direction, but hell, isn't that what I am here for! The controversies of homeless midgets licking skunk ass for my money as I video tape it, just isn't low enough. Ahh the joys of being a complete sick fuck.
But I most make this post to hopefully open the eyes to someone whom needs to see, that the "new" you is just alienating everything you have known.
What happened to a life of being able to express MY OWN "convictions" and not be incorrect in what I see in life. You ask of me not to attempt and change you and your views, yet when mine is expressed or sought upon by you, I am in the wrong.
Hypocritical, maybe.
Unjust, it is.
When did the view that if I don't agree with your side, I then become friendless by you. And that is what you envision a friend as being. Someone whom supports you with a disregard for their own life and well-being.
"I'm sorry I don't offer my life to you and bow down to your superiority."
Fuck that shit, I am my own person with my own analysis on the way I envision my life being in what I see in everyday life. It may not agree with yours, and there are those differences in the world. Don't pressure me into your downward spiral of untruths of religion and politics. I base my life on the facts.
Big Bang theory, altho a theory is more or less proven, sorry. Where the fuck did God come from to make us. Doesn't add up that some guy/girl was just floating around playing with a you-you thinking; "hmmmm. . . . I should create something"
Evolution is proven. 100%, yet you say it is wrong. Tisk. Tisk. Tisk.

I've gone off topic here. Apologies to the legions out there (Yeah, all 4 of ya)

I must repost what has caused such a controversy in this little world of ours. So those whom don't know, can understand how ignorance must be bliss on re-creating yourself:
This is a post by a former "friend" (with her understanding of friend I put this in quotations)

"After filling a bottle for years with anger, hurt and bitterness, I think it's time to "release" the cork. Just by the title of this post, you should know that it is meant for you! Please consider yourself warned, I would not recommend that you read this. I promise you WILL wish for my swift demise afterwards. I'm not kidding! You SHOULD NOT continue reading this. But of course I know that by having warned you, I have only heightened your curiosity and you will undoubtedly read on nonetheless. So at least I can say that I warned you. Not that my warnings have ever been met with any regard in the past so I won't waste any more time.

I have to make available a point of reference for other readers who will not only read this no doubt, but most likely also agree with me (those who know of our wonderful friendship). So here is a quote that will help qualify my current disgust with you.

~ "Anyways, I am having an incredibly unproductive day today. I have been "blocked" for the first time. It doesn't bother me though. Out with the old, I guess. Usually it's me doing the blocking, but I guess times have changed. Well, I guess that was one way to get rid of him!!! :) Since the posts on here about him never seemed to register WITH him!"

Sidenote: Yes, it was me being discussed in third person here. And she was blocked on AIM, just to clarify.

Once again, you should stop reading now. I'll give you a minute for this concept to sink in. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Ok, here we go:

It is YOU who has never gotten the hint. As you well know, I've wanted you gone for quite a while. But lucky for you I was too soft-hearted (usually) to oust you from my life. So I allowed you to stay, at my expense, and continue to reap the benefits of my friendship. You are undoubtedly thinking right now that there were few, if any, benefits to having me around. If that is so, then why do I have thousands of memories of you seeking my advice, my counsel, my time, all the "efforts" you made to be my friend once you realized what a shitty one you were? The sad fact of the matter is and always has been, that I AM better than you. All the times that you accused me of thinking that I was better than you. I am. You may disagree and that is fine. But I am universally accepted as a good person, a good friend, a good son/brother and to top it all off, I am intelligent in ways you could never fathom, let alone comprehend. It was you who was inferior as a friend. You have been admittedly selfish, cruel, degrading, uncaring.....And I have foolishly endured it all for years. And yet you see it fit and excusable to make out like you were the holy, high and mighty entity of perfection who suffers nothing at the loss of Jon Newman from her life. Minus the holy, high and mighty and perfect parts, it is ME who will suffer nothing. My world improves every time you are removed from it. You are the cancer that plagues my life and restricts my social growth. And you are the only one who doesn't see it. Or perhaps it is that you have seen it and, unsurprisingly, just don't care. Neither would shock me.

While speaking of me in the aforementioned excerpt from your blog (which I intend to add to my list of things to stop wasting time on), it is impossible to miss the condescending undertone in your comments. It amuses me how you can successfully lead yourself to believe that you're slick. The fact of the matter is, you're not slick. You're ignorant. A silly little girl who thinks she has the world on a string. No one can outsmart you. Authority and control are not even figments of your imagination. OK, back to reality. I wish I could be there to laugh in your face when your foolishness finally surfaces to trigger your emotional destruction. When all your naive assumptions explode like a cherry bomb under your garbage can of an existence. The one where no one truly knows you. The one where you willingly lead so many people to believe that you are something you're not. The one where you believe that a 40 year old, married military officer may actually fall in love with you and you'll live happily ever after! The one you live in every single day yet continue to pride yourself on how much you've changed and love the "new you"! You're not convincing me or anyone else that it was you who has graciously allowed me to humbly remain at your side as your friend. I did that on my own, unfortunately I was more like your dog than your friend. I suppose the reiteration of the fact that I stayed through all your bullshit time and again only exaggerates my own foolishness. But I'm good with that. Because you will be the only trophy in my hall of fame of ridiculous mistakes. Sad but true, I worked my ass off to get that trophy. But this visualization represents the one and only way you will be remembered to me. As a waste of my time. I ALMOST feel sorry for you. You are the one who will have to live with the fact that you were nothing but a burden on my life for years. As such a supposed fan of my potential and talents, you sure did a great job of hindering them. At 23 years old, I have already accomplished more than any 23 year old could hope for. Imagine what I could have added to my list of accolades had it not been for you many times dragging me down or holding me back.

And that brings me to my final point. Perhaps my greatest achievement may ultimately prove to be your permanent dismissal. I don't care if James starts stalking you again, if your dog dies, if your car breaks down leaving you stranded and drunk in the middle of nowhere at 2 AM or if you have any other mishap resembling any of your previous multitude of emotional breakdowns. Don't call me. You have made your bed. And now I will condemn you to lay in it. Perhaps your life will go on unscathed without me. For you, I say "Congratulations" if that be the case. But for the rest of the world, I say "Don't be a trusting fool like me!".

No fan list for this post. I am too full of negativity at the moment to be useful in listing the things that I find appealing today!

CHEERS!"

Now the person this is directed towards threatened legal action on this post.
On what grounds my dear, what grounds. This clearly states you have no case.
Everything posted was stated as true. I believe you fear the repercussions of all of it. You feel upset cause someone knows so much about you and you don't have that person to string along anymore, and don't want your skeletons escaping the closet of shame.

" I love getting into her religious rants........as she stands there preaching about Jesus with a cigarette in one hand, beer in the other and a cock in her mouth by the end of the night!!!"

Someone knows you better than I, this was brought to my attention and aroused my mind on your "convictions" you stand so high on. It is an opinion, so don't get all legal on us, cause the truth of your smoking and drinking, tisk tisk tisk. God would be upset. Those are items of the devil. You are goin' to hell with the rest of us for sure now. Hell maybe I'll just get baptized when I am 80 so my years of sins will be washed away. Fuck spray some water on me, say some words and it is all gone. I think not.

"if you don't support her, you're gone! She's always been like that!"

To those still affirmed to her connection (as after this I am positive I wont be) Hope you are willing to bring down the life you once knew and can allow yourself to not have your own views on things. Enjoy it.

"She will all but hang herself trying to get back at me if I didn't take that post down. So whether she wants to realize it or not, I removed it not to save my own ass, but to save hers from herself!"

Even in the war of worlds here (filled with conspiracies, espionage and traitors) the initial publisher still cared enough for that. For that I congratulate him. As sick in the head I am, that kind of remorse will not be given from me. Not to say i wish you to die, or i wish you take your life (as you so supported me in doing to myself last night) but to express the contempt i hold for how not only i, but the others have been mistreated by your malice of opinion.

and wouldnt that military officers wife enjoy the news, how many times did i say, leave it alone. yet you believe you were in love, blah blah blah.
How many times have you believed you were in love with this guy or that guy.

Well i must end this for i have ranted too long. It is obvious how ignorant you are being seeing you are republican. Oh well. Let the mess of the world rain down on me in the furies of hell i am destined to.
Enjoy the day!

Fuck it all

2004-11-27T17:32:00.000-05:00

Yeah, fuck you too.

Fuck me? fuck you.

Fuck you and this whole city and everyone in it.

No, no, no, no, no

Fuck the panhandlers grubbing for money, smiling at me behind my back. Fuck the squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car. Get a fucking job.

Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores, stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training. Slow the fuck down!

". .. getting one of those operations that elongate your penis."
Fuck the gays with their waxed up chests and pumped-up biceps, going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jiggling their dicks on my TV.

Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no speakee English.

Fuck the Russians, mobster thugs sitting in cafes, sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth, wheelin' and dealin' and schemin'. Go back to where you fucking came from.

Fuck the black-hatted Hasidim strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff, selling South African apartheid diamonds. "Come on, your wife deserves this."

Fuck the Wall street brokers. Self-styled master of the universe. Michael Douglas-Gordon Gekko wannabe motherfuckers figuring out new ways to rob hardworking people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for fucking life.

You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit? Give me a fucking break.

Fuck the Puerto Ricans. Twenty to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls. Worst fucking parade ever. And don't even get me started on the Dominicans, cause they make the Puerto Ricans look good. *Wink*

"Who's this fucking guy? Get the fuck outta here!" Fuck the Italians with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, their St. Anthony medallions, swinging their Jason Giambi Louisville Slugger baseball bats trying to audition for "The Sopranos."

Fuck the housewives with their Hermes scarves and their $50 Balducci artichoke. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched all taiut and shiny. You're not fooling anybody, sweetheart.

Fuck the blacks. They never pass the ball, they don't want to play defense, they take five steps on every layup to the hoop, and then they want to turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended 140 years ago (next year). Move the fuck on.

Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus-violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust!

Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil.
And while you're at it, fuck J.C. He got off easy-- a day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity. Try seven years to life in prison J.

Fuck Osama bin Laden, Al Qaeda, and backward-ass cave-dwelling fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the name of innocent thousands murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your 72 whores roasting in a jet-fuel fire in hell.
You towel-headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal ass.

Fuck this whole country and everyone in it, from the poverns of each city to the riches of the big city, from the brothers in the Bronx all the to fakes in Hollywood, from the ignorant politicians to the average working man, from the jailhouses to the bars, from children to parents, let an earthquake crumble it, let the fires rage, let it burn to fuckin ash, and then let the waters rise and submerge this whole rat-infested place.

No.

Fuck you.

You had it all and you threw it away, you dumb fuck!

Riddles of Faith

2004-11-24T14:25:00.000-05:00

Leaving 'Alice in Wonderland' aside, look closely at 'Through the LookingGlass' - particularly 'The Walrus and the Carpenter' poem: what's themetaphorical meaning?

"I wasn't aware there was one." you wonder to yourself.

Oh, but there is - it colorfully details the sham that is organized religion. The Walrus - with his girth and good-nature - obviously refers to either the Buddha, or - with his tusks - the lovable Hindu elephant god, Lord Ganesha. This takes care of the Eastern religions. The Carpenter is an obvious reference to Jesus Christ, who was purportedly raised the son of a carpenter. He represents the Western religions. And in the poem; what do they do? They dupe all the oyesters into following them. Then; when the oysters collective guard is down. The Walrus and the Carpenter shuck and devour the helpless creatures, en masse. I don't know what that says to you, but to me it says that following faiths based on these mythological figures insures the destruction of one's inner-being.

Organized religion destroys who we are or who we can be by inhibiting our actions and decisions out of fear of an intangible parent-figure who shakes a finger at us from thousands of years ago and says "No, no!"

'Through the Looking Glass' - a children's tale? I think not.

"I've... I've never really thought about it like that...What have I been doing with my life...?" you ponder.

Don't look back. Just get out there and taste life. Leave this for the unenlightened. Poverty is for the gullible - it's another way the church is trying to control you. You take that money you've been collecting for your parish reconstruction and go get yourself a nice piece of ass. You deserve it.

I'm curious as to how a religion and its beliefs of supporting everyone and their differences can judge those not involved in their own religion. Quite bias if you ask me. This is the reason i don't believe in organized religion. They jump down our weak gutless throats to force feed us what is right and wrong and what unrelying anguish we will see in the afterlife if we don't follow the rules.

I am sorry but even all the"evil" things i have done. I'm NOT going to Hell.

If I am not mistaken, God made us in his own image, correct?

You're damn right I am. I've heard it hundreds of times from all people of all religions, such and such God made us in his own image.

Well for all you religious fucks whom don't believe in living life, if God truely does exist, thsi is the image he created for me and the way he wanted me to live. I am just living life as i am directed, so don't give me your catholic bullshit of I'm going to Hell for being "evil" for you can't LIVE without EVIL (funny how the words are the same just flip it around and you have the other)
Also you have another fun word game with the word beLIEve. Funny how the word lie is in the middle of the truth as it seems. I attempt to discourage my use of the word believe for that very fact.

Too many people beLIEve in EVIL is not how to LIVE.

How to be Annoying

2004-11-23T14:35:00.000-05:00

Adjust the tint on your tv so that all the people are green, and insist to others that you "like it that way".

Remove every line of someone's .newsrc file except the entry for alt.sex.fetish.hamster.duct-tape.

Specify that your drive-through order is "to go".

Learn Morse code, and have conversations with friends in public consisting entirely of "Beeeep Bip Bip Beeeep Bip..."

Buy large quantities of mint dental floss just to lick the flavor off.

Leave your Nine Inch Nails tape in Great Uncle Ed's stereo, with the volume properly adjusted.

Decline to be seated at a restaurant, and simply eat their complementary mints by the cash register.

Pay for your dinner with pennies.

Write "X - BURIED TREASURE" in random spots on all of someone's roadmaps.

Wander around the restaurant, asking other diners for their parsley.

Demand that everyone address you as "Conquistador".

Pretend your mouse is a CB radio, and talk to it.

Inform others that they exist only in your imagination.

Ask people what gender they are.

Routinely handcuff yourself to furniture, informing the curious that you don't want to fall off "in case the big one comes".

Follow a few paces behind someone, spraying everything they touch with a can of Lysol.

Make beeping noises when a large person backs up.

Change your name to John Aaaaasmith for the great glory of being first in the phone book. Claim it's a Hawaiian name, and demand that people pronounce each A.

Sit in your front yard pointing a hair dryer at passing cars to see if they slow down.

Invent nonsense computer jargon in conversations, and see if people play along to avoid the appearance of ignorance.

Listen to 33rpm records at 45rpm speed, and claim the faster speed is necessary because of your "superior mental processing".

Go to a poetry recital and ask why each poem doesn't rhyme.

Ask your co-workers mysterious questions, and scribble their answers in a notebook. Mutter something about "psychological profiles".

Incessantly recite annoying phrases, such as "sticky wicket isn't cricket."

Signal that a conversation is over by clamping your hands over your ears.

2,452,783,152 times i have been annoying.

Involving a Serial Killer

2004-11-22T22:51:00.000-05:00

I present to you The Do It Your Self Guide to Writing a Movie Involving a Serial Killer. The Do It Your Self Guide to Writing a Movie Involving a Serial Killer, or the DIYSGTWAMIASK for short, has been established by analyzing hundreds of hours of movies involving either a serial killer, mass murderer, homicidal maniac that has killed at least three people, or a spree killer.

Rule1. All movies involving a serial killer must have at least one black cop that is nearing retirement or has been recently suspended due to becoming overly obsessed with solving the case.

Rule 2. All movies involving a serial killer must make the audience believe at one or multiple points in the movie that said cop is in fact the serial killer.
Rule 2b. It is also acceptable as a replacement for Rule 2, that if the audience is never lead to believe that a cop is in fact the serial killer, that a superior officer/ internal affairs bureau or partner suspects that the cop is in fact the serial killer.
Rule 2c. In the event that both Rule 2 and 2b are not present in a movie involving a serial killer, than Rule 2c shall apply. Rule 2c states that at one point in the movie, the serial killer frames the cop for the murders. While the cop’s sergeant/lieutenant does not believe he is in fact the killer, the cop is still suspended as a result of negative media coverage and forced to hand in his badge and gun because of increasing pressure from the Mayor who is up for re-election. Shortly after a brief bender the cop continues to investigate, eventually solving the crimes, despite being repeatedly warned to stay off the case.

Rule 3. All serial killers in movies involving a serial killer must intentionally leave clues as to who their real identity is at all crime scenes as a result of their subliminal desire to either; a) be caught, or c) create a closer more personal bond with the cops who are trying to catch them.

Rule 4. The actual serial killer must be displayed on screen during the first 15 minutes of the movie as a very minor character without the audience realizing that they have just, in fact, witnessed the serial killer.

Rule 5. All serial killers in movies involving a serial killer must kill because of a desire to teach society a lesson. These lessons must involve reminding society that people are in fact self involved, overindulging, greedy whores.

Rule 6. All serial killers in movies involving a serial killer must be an over weight bald white man (think Butter Bean) or a thin, high cheek boned, white man with dark hair who frequently wears a hooded sweatshirt or a fedora.

Rule 7. At one point in all movies involving a serial killer, a montage of newspaper clippings prominently displaying headlines pertaining to the serial killer must be displayed. These clippings can either; a) be displayed during the opening credits, b) be displayed on a wall in the actual serial killer’s hideout, c) be pinned up on a wall in the office or home of the detective pursuing the case, or d) be laid out in a scrapbook kept by a past victim who was able to escape the serial killer, or by a family member (most likely a sister) of a victim who has become romantically involved with the detective who is pursuing the case.

Rule 8. Black and white crime scene photos must be displayed in movies involving a serial killer.

Rule 9. In movies involving a serial killer, the serial killer must have extremely elaborate and ironic ways of killing their victims. These overly elaborate ways of killing their victims will usually involve keeping the victim alive for a prolonged period of time, giving the victim enough time to reflect on their life.

Rule 10. The detective who is in charge of tracking down the serial killer in movies involving a serial killer must display a genius level of perception. He must be able to hone in on the most obscure clues. At one point in the movie he will be confused by one or most of those clues, only later to have an “ah ha” moment where he instantaneously figures out who the serial killer is. Most likely this will happen during a time when his partner is excessively talking to him, the audio of his partner’s voice will fade out as the detective visually locks in on a photo of the crime scene that is lying on his desk. The detective will develop flashbacks that tie together all of the clues. All of a sudden the audio of his partner comes back full volume asking, “Hey, are you even listening to me? He will then neglect to clue in his partner, only to say, “I got it, I got it! Come on, I will explain it to you in the car”.

Rule 11. At some point in a movie involving a serial killer, the detective and his partner will stumble upon the hideout of the serial killer. The serial killer will not be there but the pictures and artifacts that they find will be quite disturbing. While the detectives are there the killer will come home and startle them. All three will freeze and stare at each other for a split second. At this point the killer may overturn a table or throw something at the cops just as they draw their weapons. The killer will then run down a hallway or corridor as the cops shoot at him, missing with every shot, or causing minor injury.

Rule 12. It is always raining in a movie involving a serial killer.

In order to write a successful movie involving a serial killer, at least 7 of the above rules must be followed. Remember, audiences who watch movies involving serial killers will frequently, throughout the movie, say, “It’s that guy”. Play on this by creating as many false leads as possible while employing the aforementioned rules. Good luck, and judging by the quality of recent movies involving a serial killer, we should be seeing your movie on a big screen in no time.

The FCC Can Suck My Sweaty Cock

2004-11-19T01:29:00.000-05:00

Poised on the brink of becoming a Nazi-like babysitter, ready to punish us ALL for fear of...dear god no...hearing or seeing something "dirty", the Federal Communications Commission is now seeking to expand its powers to encompass pay-for-cable television, satellite radio, and yes, even the internet. Once thought to be an untouchable fairyland of beastiality, amputee porn, beheading videos, and the home of the Holy Grail of Free Entertainment...Consumption Junction, the FCC seeks to wrap its slimy moral tentacles over it all and make it "safe" and "wholesome". Fuck that shit. The REASON I frequent the internet and THIS site is to get my daily dose of sick and perverted material. Without that comforting dose of perversion, I fear my sanity would slowly unravel and the only thing that would prevent me from walking into a Burger Shack armed with a 12 gauge is the comforting thought that sites like THIS exist unhindered by censorship.
The national tone is becoming completely out of wack ever since Janet Jackson unleashed her 40 year old wrinkled raisinette onto the world at large during the StuporBowl. But personally, I don't feel the blame should land squarely on Janet's shoulders. No, the man (and I use that term loosely) who should be strung up and sodomized by the entire Carolina Panter's defense line-up is Justin Timberlake. If it wasn't for him, that son-of-a-bitch, if not for him and his desire to unleash Janet's chocolate flapjack to the world at large...then the FCC would still be a mockery of what it has become today. Ever since then, it seems that our very moral standings have reversed back to the days of the Puritans. One has to only listen to talk radio, where fear of even slipping up has gripped once mighty speakers of freedom with the insane urge to curb their tounges. All it takes is ONE fucking complaint...one little complaint and the FCC will investigate. Take for instance, the Veteran's Day debacle over "Saving Private Ryan".
"Saving Private Ryan"...how the fuck can anyone consider this truly patriotic and inspiring film about the sacrifice our very own troops made during D-Day? Well, one pussy ass did. And because of that person, a large number of ABC affiliates refused to play an uncut version of the film. It boggles the mind. Fuck, even PBS...the one station I wouldn't watch even if every other station dropped off the face of the earth and the only option for television entertainment was PBS or Lifetime? Damn right, I'd be watching Golden Girls on Lifetime. But even PBS had to heavily censor a documentary on a Puerto Rican poet for fear of the FCC cracking down on them. So all 14 of PBS's viewers had to go without hearing a few innocent expletives.
But soon the fight for freedom of speech and expression may be all for naught. A large majority of Republicans AND Democrats alike now are pushing for a more aggressive approach towards "cleaning" up what we read, what we see, and what we hear. I'm not going to sit here and try to put the blame on our current President and his administration, for that will only bring about more bullshit from their supporters. No, I blame YOU. I blame the majority of you fucks who sit back and let this type of censorship happen without batting an eye or getting in contact with your state's Congressmen and Senators and asking them "Why?". I don't blame the Moral Majority, NOR do I blame the fanatical Christian Right. I blame US. I blame the sick fucks and perverted freaks who just sit there and allow the afore-mentioned to fuck us right in the ass without so much as a handshake or lube.
What can we do? I certainly don't have the answers, people. I've tried, believe me, I've tried but my letters and phonecalls to my Congressmen go unanswered. And now with Conservative Republicans and the Christian Right dominating both State and Federal government, MY right to watch an amputee midget sucking a retarded donkey's cock will soon go the way of the dodo.
Furiously downloading as much fucked up porn as I can before it's too late.

574,783 people agree the FCC sucks my cock.

inkblots of your mind

2004-11-18T18:27:00.000-05:00

jeremy, your subconscious mind is driven most by Peace

You are driven by a higher purpose than most people. You have a deeply-rooted desire to facilitate peacefulness in the world. Whether through subtle interactions with love ones, or through getting involved in social causes, it is important to you to influence the world.

You are driven by a desire to encourage others to think about the positive side of things instead of focusing on the negative. The reason your unconscious is consumed by this might stem from an innate fear of war and turmoil. Thus, to avoid that uncomfortable place for you, your unconscious seeks out the peace in your environment.

Usually, the thing that underlies this unconscious drive is a deep respect for humankind. You care about the future of the world, even beyond your own involvement in it. As a result, your personal integrity acts as a surrogate for your deeper drive toward peace and guides you in daily life towards decisions that are respectful toward yourself and others.

Though your unconscious mind is driven most strongly by Peace, there is much more to who you are at your core.

i was at first skeptical at taking an online inkblot test (id consider calling it its real name if i could even come close to spelling such word) but felt i needed to persist any how.
i was intrigued. what can i say? its me.
even more surprising was my 'results' of the test which are what was listed above. its amazing how accurate this test was to how my life is acutually been and is living at this moment. altho i do realize that this 'result' is more than likely staged when you answer so many questions a certain way, it was still staggering.
i spose i should get everyone in on this site and see what your subconscience opens up.

inkblot test

Quotes That Are Ruining The World

2004-11-11T13:23:00.000-05:00

People these days seem to take quotes by famous people, and make them their life mottos. That's bullshit. I'm talking about the following quotes in particular:

Live life to the fullest: What a crock. I hear this one time and time again, usually from some jackass that's not willing to take responsibility for his actions. I'm sure whoever said it didn't intend for people to take it literally. By the "live life to the fullest" doctrine, people have done all sorts of stupid things. Things like experimentation with drugs, animals, and sex with furniture. Sick bastards. The bottom line is that if you try to live life to the fullest, you will die. Instantly. Stop screwing around or you will get killed.

Cheaters never prosper: BULLSHIT. At least 90% of cheaters prosper. Those cheating bastards get by the system every time. There was a whore in one of my computer science classes that didn't do any assignments, failed all the exams, but still passed the class because she was sleeping around with all the TA's. It's a repeating cycle perpetuated by corrupt administration and slacker kids that aren't willing to put forth the effort it takes to pass. They should all be shot.

Be happy with what you have: Basically this is saying that people shouldn't have goals. Not that they should, but c'mon. You and I know it's bullshit. If you have nothing, or nothing that makes you happy, then what? You're supposed to be happy with nothing? Bah.. sounds like shit to me.

Hard work brings success: WRONG. Kissing ass and sleeping around brings success. Nobody cares how hard you work as long as you stimulate their ego. Hard work usually gets forgotten and goes unnoticed. There's always some sucker out there that's getting the raw deal in hopes of moving up. It's not going to happen, you might as well quit. Stop trying.

I'm not afraid of anything: Yeah, whatever. This is usually muttered by a short dipshit with a Napoleon complex. Listen you little bitch, you're a frail little coward afraid of everything. End your campaign of arrogance and admit that you're a wuss. I'm sick of people who say they're not afraid of anything. If they truly weren't, then they'd be dead. There's nothing to fear, remember? So why don't they kill themselves and confirm their theory. Worthless.

9,466 people think hard work pays off.

Phrases that make my blood boil

2004-11-10T17:19:00.000-05:00

Ever hear someone quote some hackneyed proverb or some stupid expression they read on a greeting card somewhere, which causes you to think: "man, what a stupid bitch, I would love nothing more than to bludgeon her head against the wall"? Sure, we all have. These are a collection of some of the phrases that piss me off most.

May or may not be:
Ever hear someone say "that may or may not be the case," as if there's some hidden third possibility that we weren't aware of? Thanks for pointing out the only two possibilities in the universe shit-cock. These are the worst kind of people to talk to because they try so hard to be open-minded that it sounds like the debate in a political science class where no opinion is too stupid for the professor to consider and the same fat kid keeps raising his hand to tell you his dumb ideas about free market capitalism as you fantasize about repeatedly stomping his face into a jar. I hate talking to open-minded people. They're the same kind of people who emphasize every other word when they type as if you can somehow hear their obnoxious cadence in your head, for example: "we didn't go to the store, but we DID buy a cake." Cool it Shatner, we don't read in the same voice you speak.

Well that's just your opinion:
This one pisses me off just thinking about it. If you slit my throat right now you'd get shot in the eye with boiling blood. Any time you say something sucks around someone who disagrees, they try to validate their taste in shitty music/movies/clothing by reminding you that you still only speak for yourself, as if their opinions are in jeopardy of being monopolized by your own. Everyone already knows it's my opinion by virtue of the fact that I said it, no need to restate the obvious you dopey twat.

It takes one to know one:
Ever call someone a whore only to be countered with the bullet-proof come back: "well it takes one to know one"? You're basically saying "yes, I spread my legs for money, as do you." Good job Ms. Rotten-crotch, you've rebuked nothing. What difference does it make if the person calling you a slut is one as well? You're still a skanky bitch who charges money for hand jobs--and why the hell are you charging for a hand job anyway? Unless all your clients are paralyzed, any prostitute caught charging someone for a hand job should be sued for extortion. That's another reason prostitution should be legal: you can't really sue a prostitute for extortion if prostitution is illegal now can you wise ass?

I'm a child at heart:
Yeah, you're a child at heart, just as soon as children start going to work every day to rot in a cubicle for a meager pay check so they can drink their troubles away in a shitty bar for the rest of their lives. Unless you're an astronaut, secret agent, vampire hunter, or all three, you're probably a sellout; screw you. Nobody wanted to be a regional director of sales or an investment banker when they were kids. On top of that, nobody thinks you're cute or funny by stating you're a "child at heart" on your stupid online profile that you created because you're a boring middle-aged loser with sagging tits and yellow nails who survives off greasy TV dinners every night as you contemplate the exact moment your life became such a miserable shit hole. But hey, don't take my word for it. After all, passing by "Cartoon Network" as you're flipping through channels technically makes you a "child at heart." Either that or the world's oldest virgin.

Sorry, but (also known as "No offense, but"):
Girls usually say this when they think they're being clever: "sorry, but you're a moron." It's a phrase derived from the expression people use when they're breaking some bad news to an old friend: "I'm sorry to say this, but the results are back and... you're an idiot." The only problem is, they never intend to say it with such eloquence, but rather, they use the phrase like it's a blunt object, hammering their square insult through your round psyche. If you think someone's an idiot, just come out and say it without these pussy apologies you dumb hag. Unless you're a character in a fighting game, have big boobs, and just won the round with a bitch slap, saying "sorry" just before you insult someone is obnoxious, cut the bullshit.

Strangers are just friends waiting to happen:
Yeah, either that or rape in a dark alley waiting to happen.

Hmmmmm / Uhhhhh:
Next time you ask someone a question, look for the trademark sign of an idiot: the "hmmmmm" noise they make while they're thinking. It's especially noticeable when you go to a restaurant and the waitress asks what you want to drink; there's always some fickle fingered asshole thumbing through the menu, sounding off like a moron with "uhhhhhh...." as if the waitress is just going to walk away without taking your order if you don't give her an audible cue that you are still breathing. These are the same type of people who repeat the question you ask them to buy time when they don't know the answer, hoping you won't notice that they're stalling. You don't need to make a sound while your five good neurons crank out the next malformed sentence from your cretaceous skull, numb nuts.

Some of the best things in life are free:
Yeah? Well so are some of the worst, and I don't see anyone throwing a party when they get cancer.

The grass is always greener on the other side:
If the grass is greener on the other side, then the guy with the greener grass doesn't think your grass is greener now does he, asshole? The message that this proverb is trying to stumble through is that everything always looks more attractive when you don't have it. I'm sure there are millionaires crying themselves to sleep every night because they don't live in a trailer park. Just face it: sometimes nobody envies you. There has to be a bottom and that bottom is probably you.

1,661,865 phrases were excluded from this list in the interest of stabilizing my blood pressure.

WWJD?

2004-11-09T09:46:00.000-05:00

So Dubbya won. I'm no fan of Bush but at the same time I thought Kerry was a fucking wus. We should be proud. We as a people have perfected the art of choosing the lesser of two evils. Frankly, I'm not gonna bitch. I'm just glad that we had a clear winner this time and that there were no terrorist attacks trying to influence the election.
I was chatting with a buddy today and his theory on Dubbya winning because of fundamentalist Christians was pretty funny. Well, technically the funny part was his "solution to the fundamentalist Christian problem". If you're interested he posted it on this forum. Anyway, I'm not a religious person but it got me thinking. What if all this Christian stuff is truly accurate? What if Jesus Christ really is coming back? Worse, what if he already has? Honestly people, how many "nutjobs" are locked up in a loony bin somewhere right now because they swore they were the messiah? Seriously, what if our Lord and Savior is sitting right now in a padded room somewhere strapped down to a bed and dosed to the gills on lithium? Work with me like you're watching a movie: use temporary suspension of disbelief. Assume Jesus really was he son of God and really did come back to Earth tomorrow. What would it take in our jaded, cynical world to convince us that he really is the son of God? I've gotta bet that it's simply impossible.

"Hello my child, I am Jesus. I have returned to save your soul."

"Shut up asshole, I'm not giving you any money."

"No, it is I, the Son of God."

"Whatever man, I gave at the office."

"I do not need your money. I only want to spread the word of my father, the almighty God."

"Listen you crazy bastard, I've heard this a million times. You're going to have to turn water to wine or something if you want me to believe you. If you're really Jesus then perform a miracle!"

"Miracle? How else do you think you got re-elected?"

Heh, sorry couldn't resist. But you get he point. When I see people out on the street pimping their religions they're just being ignored or ridiculed. It's just second nature to think of them as quacks. Who can blame us? This chick in an old beat up VW bug broke down in front of an office a few months ago. Indy and I were about to start pushing her car across the street into the parking lot to get it out of the road when two hardcore bible thumpers walked up. I had to fuck with them. I couldn't resist. The best way I've found to infuriate this type of person is with calm and intelligent discourse. It drives them nuts. After a couple minutes I hit them up to help us help this woman get her car out of the street and into the parking lot. They said they would only do it if I prayed with them. I swear this is the actual conversation:

"So you're trying to blackmail me into praying with you?"

"So you're not willing to help this woman? She's in need of a hand. Isn't that the Christian thing to do?"

"Why won't you pray with us?"

"Tell you what, if you're willing to help this lady out I'll stand here next to you with my eyes closed while you pray. How's that?"

"Will you actually pray?"

"Honestly, no, but it will look like I am."

"No, God will know. That won't work. I won't help you move the car. We have to go now."

So they left with me screaming/laughing at the top of my lungs HYPOCRITE!!!! I couldn't resist. Honestly, this is my typical exposure to Christianity. Can you blame me for thinking these people are insane? That chick was so damn brainwashed I couldn't get her to concede that a fundamental tenet of her religion of choice was helping those in need. With experiences like this, what would I do if some guy came up to me and insisted he was Jesus. I'd ignore him. If he persisted, I'd tell him to fuck off. If he still persisted I'd either kick his ass or call the cops depending on the mood I was in. What would you do?

So the way I see it, if Christianity is right we're all going to hell. Either JC has already come back and we've locked him up or when he does come back we're going to lock him up. Either way we're fucked.

If I go before you, I'll be the one with the bellows stoking the fire.

Talking you out of fleeing to Canada

2004-11-08T09:21:00.000-05:00

As far as Tuesdays go, we just had a pretty big one here in America. After months of heated debate, years of speculation, millions of dollars spent, scandals aplenty, and predictions from loud-mouthed experts... the big day finally arrived. That's right, the NBA season kicked off with the Detroit Pistons knocking off the new-look Houston Rockets, 87-79.
But if you're one of the 15 "informed" people who read this website, you may also have caught wind of this under-the-radar tidbit as it flew by on the newswire: The United States re-elected President Bush. That's right, the 2004 Presidentail Election is over.
Which means P. Diddy can finally start murdering people.
As I am not too happy with America's decision. Whether it be via instant message, e-mail, or the well-written weblogs I read every day, all I'm hearing is how everyone wants to flee to Canada. Apparently, America fucked up by electing a retarded Texan back into office to continue deficit spending, a war in the wrong country, and obliterating the English language.
To which I say: Sack up, pussies.
I've got news for you. We're still fucking America. And when you woke up this morning, we were still the most powerful country in the entire Solar System. And when you ate your Egg McMuffin for breakfast, America was still the most powerful country in the entire Solar System. And when you drank your Starbucks coffee. And when you drove your Honda Accord to work. And when you came home and fell asleep in your big, comfortable bed, with that leak-free roof over your precious little head.
So, you're not happy with America's decision? That's fine. But the fact that you're bitching a day later means you don't get it. Whether it's a guy suffering from Down Syndrome from Down South, or a flip-flopping robot from New England... the President of the United States is simply a face we put on our country's invincible body.
This is America. We're bullet proof. What doesn't kill us just makes us stronger. That theory was tested to the fullest extent 3 years and 54 days ago. When planes crash into the sides of our buildings, it brings us closer together. One man can't bring us down. Not someone against us, like Osama Bin Laden. And certainly not someone for us, like President George W. Bush.
Cry all you want about who's holding residence at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Just don't do it in my presence - I'm sick of fat, spoiled Americans proving to me just how unthankful they can be to live in the greatest nation in the world. The fact that we live in a country where we can openly bitch about who's in charge without getting a limb sawed off should be reason enough for Americans to smile.
Because this morning, the two most important vertebrae in our country's very strong backbone ("democracy" and "free speech") once again extended their 228-year winning streak. God bless America.
Think long and hard about everything you have here in the great US of A before fleeing to Canada. I mean, you can't even masterbate there without getting sued.
(And you thought I was getting serious on you...)