Cliffhanger for Jesus

Terri Schiavo is braindead and is going to die very soon... Two weeks ago, no one knew who the hell Terri Schiavo was, and now millions suddenly give a shit. Why? Seriously, why do you care? Is it just entertainment for you? An excuse to show your religious beliefs to the cameras? To get high ratings?

Personally, I don't care in the least for that woman, or her parents or husband. Why should I? I never knew her. In fact, I don't know anyone in the whole state of Florida. I am told Terri was a nice person and loved life... Bull! When was the last time you ever heard a bad thing about a person that was about to die? Never, that's when.

Why is George Bush involved in this? Why is Fox News devoting hours and hours to this very personal story? Christians are flocking to street corners, finding a new meaning in life and a new lesson in life to teach us all. Jay Leno is treating this story like a comedy goldmine. Everyone is talking about Terri. It's like she's the New Coke or something! Why hasen't anyone made a reality show about this yet, seriously?

What happens between a man's wife, a parent's daughter and a brain damaged woman in a hospital is really none of my business and should really be none of your business either. Why are you watching this stuff?

Samsara

My sister in law told me a story yesterday about her baby daughter, my niece Shayla (cutest kid ever).

My Mom, sis-in-law and Shayla (cutest kid ever) were all at a mall together and Shayla was acting like a typical child of that age; she has suddenly discovered her legs and how they can be actually used for going places, often times at dangerous speeds.

Anyway, Shayla, who is normally very shy to strangers and even to familiar people she has not seen for a long time, suddenly broke loose and ran into a clothing store and straight into the arms of a Hindu woman (e.g. a woman from India). She hugged her and was in her arms in a matter of seconds. My sis-in-law was stunned at this reaction, but thought nothing of it and she gathered up Shayla, apologized to the woman and moved on.

I found this story fascinating and ended up asked a lot of questions about it to my sis. I’ve never seen this first hand of course, but I’ve read similar stories before in Buddhist texts and histories of the Dali Lamas. Each Dali Lama was sought out by searching for young boys who had an uncanny understanding of the previous Lama and his possessions and companions. You know what I am saying; reincarnation and past lives and shit like that.

This is the first story I’ve heard first hand that dwells so closely to that belief. Not saying anything… Just saying it’s kind of cool to think about and also Shayla is the cutest kid ever.

Wake Up

The Boogeyman never existed in the first place.

The Thin White Duke

I used to call him the thin white duke, or "The Duke" for short.

- The bookmark he used when he was reading at work was a photo strip of 4 photos of himself, the kind you get from the booths you see at the mall. Each photo in the strip was exactly the same shot, just him staring blindly at the camera.

- He always had a need to have absolutely everything in his life planned out; his work time, the amount of sleep needed, when to have lunch. He would spend hours every weekend at work making this complex timetable of events for the following week. He even had a thing on his schedule that was titled "“poop time"”, which was when he did nothing at all.

- I called him from work one night on Halloween, bored out of my mind with no customers coming in and the store completely dead. He asked if I had any candy to give kids dressed up and I said of course I did. He hung up the phone and, 5 minutes later he showed up at the store wearing a garbage bag with a disposable ashtray stapled to it and said “"Hey! Can you guess what I am dressed up as? I’m dressed up as the mysterious monster from the X-Files! I am wearing a garbage bag with a disposable ashtray stapled to it! Why would a person do such a thing? Isn’t that mysterious?!"

- We were hanging out one night after my job was done and he told me that he had found an old paycheck that he hadn'’t cashed from almost a year earlier in his room. I asked him why he hadn'’t cashed it and he tried to explain to me that he likes to deny himself the money from his job sometimes because it makes him feel like he is providing a service to people as opposed to just working for the money. He eventually started volunteering at a homeless shelter instead of not cashing the checks, which was the more logical thing to do. He always used to talk about leaving the modern world and going off to Africa to build bridges and homes, doing things that actually help people, things that "“make you realize you have actually done something right and good at the end of the day.”"


You were one fucked up dude, but quite the teacher. I haven'’t talked to you or seen you in seven years, but I still keep in mind your lessons.

Thanks Kent... Hope all is well with you.

Thoughts Like A Lottery Ticket

Clicking on tombstone sidewalks
with black slidy shoes
A sacrifice of traction
for the sake of quality visions

Going to the mysterious unknown
proud and strong
like kamikaze to the hull

We salute you all, you know
We thank you for your sacrifices
and your indifference to our cause

Keep on keeping on
you shining gods among mortals
We love your perfect creases

We will forget you
Your life will mean nothing
But deep down, we thank you

Now go, into the scarring fire
and enjoy your double café latte, Sir.

Thanks "Clarice"

I had to call my brother up to find out what the name of that girl reindeer was. What a cocktease that bitch was.

The Great Vehicle



“The deep, hollow ache of the heart arises from a life in search of meaning. But it’s by our very desire to find meaning that we create meaninglessness.”

The Perfect American Media Story

.
.
Character One: Brian: the Black Man (soldier)
When Brian was a kid, he went to a Catholic high school. He studied the bible and played basketball and then went to university. After dropping out of school, Brian started work as a computer tech for UPS. Brian’s mom used to work for the IRS, but now lives in Tanzania and helps that government create a proper tax system. Brian also had a girlfriend. Her and Brian had been together for 8 years. Then, Brian was unfaithful and got another woman pregnant. Brian said he wanted to stay with her, but the girlfriend was upset and tension grew between them. Brian then went crazy and supposedly held his girlfriend prisoner and beat her and raped her over a period of a few days. Brian was then arrested for rape. The court case went to trial and the jury was hung. They could not decide guilty or innocent.

Character Two: Ashley: the Single Mother (Christian)
Ashley (soon to be known as the prefect poster child for Christianity) gave birth to a daughter 5 years ago. Four years ago, Ashley’s husband was stabbed to death and he died in Ashley’s arms before the police arrived. She’s now a single mother in a suburb of Atlanta and loves her daughter so very, very much.

Character Three: The Media

Character Four: The Consumer

Act I:
One week after Brian’s mistrial (which was last Friday morning), Brian was being retried for the rape case. When Cynthia (a security guard) removed Brian’s handcuffs, he decided to go a bit crazy once again and he attacked Cynthia, cracking her skull. Brian took her gun and left her to die.

Then, instead of running, Brian instead ran into the courtroom. He took a guard hostage, tore out all the phone lines, and eventually stepped up onto the judges’ bench and shot and killed Rowland and his friend Julie and then ran out of the room, down 8 floors and outside, where he also shot and killed Hoyt as well.

Brian then hijacked a car and drove it 3 blocks into a parking garage, where he switched and stole another car. 8 blocks of driving later, Brian was in yet another parking garage, where he met up with Don, who was (of all people) a newspaper reporter from The Media. He took Don’s car and drove off to a THIRD parking garage. There, he laid low for about 30 minutes. He put on some of Don’s clothes that were in his car and walked to the subway and took a train 8 miles away to Buckhead.

At this point, the police focus all of their efforts into telling The Media everything they can about Brian and that he may be driving Don’s car. Meanwhile, Brian is in Buckhead after ditching Don’s car. Eventually, Brian ends up at David’s house, who is (of all people) a federal agent of the U.S. government. He kills David and takes his gun, his badge and his car. The police at this time discover that Don’s car is parked in a parking garage and not being driven by Brian. No one has any idea where Brian is for the next 16 hours.

--Intermission--

This 16 hour pause in events gives The Media the perfect time to gather better, more credible sources about what actually happened that day, which eventually creates a story full of pure entertainment value. The next day, The Consumer’s are as ready for Act II to begin as much as they were ready for the next season of Survivor. And so it begins…

Act II:
Late Friday night at about 2 in the morning, in a place called Duluth, Ashley came home from buying a pack of smokes and Brian pulled a gun on her and forced his way into her apartment and tied her up. During the night, Ashley and Brian talked about things. She talked about the daughter that she loved, about hope, and God and eventually, Brian untied her. Ashley stared reading a book; “The Purpose Driven Life”, written by Rick Warren (Rick is going to be a very, very rich man because of this) and read lines to him about what the purpose of l7ife is and the talents each person is given by God. Brian then explained to her that God had led him to her to make him understand that he had hurt people. Ashley asked why he had done what he had done. Brian said he did it because he was a soldier and that was his purpose in life. Ashley then tried to make Brian understand that, if he was a soldier he should turn himself in before more people are killed.

That morning, Brian got into his stolen car and Ashley followed him in her own car. During this whole time, Ashley had her cel phone on her, but never called for help because she was a Christian and was afraid that Brian would get hurt of killed and she didn’t want that. After Brian had gotten rid of the car, he got into Ashley’s and they drove back to her place. She then made him pancakes and they both watched the tv coverage of the manhunt for Brian.

Later that day, David’s dead body is discovered in his home and police notice that his car is missing as well. The police put out an alert to The Media to be on the lookout for Brian and that he may be driving David’s car.

Back at Ashley’s house, Brian lets her leave so she can see her daughter. Finally, Ashley calls 911 and lets the police know that Brian is in her apartment. The police come quickly and Brian gives up quietly, waving a white t-shirt in an act of surrender.

Epilogue:
The story is over. Brian is no longer a threat. But where Brian stops, The Media begins. A change happens in this drama: This is not about the murderer Brian anymore. Not because he’s boring, but because The Media have no access to him anymore. He will be forgotten in a matter of minutes after The Consumer’s get a load of Ashley and her amazing story about the murdering black man and how the word of God saved her life.

Now (Wednesday), with the story completely over, The Media continues as relentlessly as ever to gather more and more information about this story. Literally hundreds of pieces of completely useless information now bounce around the airwaves like grasshoppers: “his mother lives in Tanzania”, “he was a very nice man.”, “I am shocked he could do something like this.”, “he was a big fan of the Boston Red Sox.”, “Her daughter loves ice cream.”, “He’s got a mole on his right thigh. I repeat, a mole on his thigh! Story at 11!”.

But, The Media also has Ashley herself to talk about the event. She’s made of pure gold and ready to go, she is indeed. Ashley quickly began a tour of interviews that began roughly 7 hours after she left her apartment to call 911. Everything she says from now on has become the ownership of her lawyers which will take care of her decisions from now on for only 40% of the profits.

I wonder if Ashley is missing her 5 year old daughter when in New York talking to Good Morning America about herself as much as she was missing her when she was talking to Brian about the value of a human life? I wonder what she would say to that question?

An honest answer to that question might actually make me listen to The Media.

(story and facts were all based on this, this and this article and their links from the beloved cnn.com website of doom.)

Write Everything. They Don't Matter.

Zack Parsons and Richard Kyanka from SA are the reasons why I started writing.

Looking in my Written Warning folder right now, I see that I have 32 articles I am working on right now and 17 posted already, but the creation process is so slow for me when I know I have something good. My last good bit was over a month long process of writing, reading, overwriting, avoiding, reading again, rewriting, avoiding again, etc. The idea for it was in my head almost a year before I got to actually writing it as well. I am a lazy perfectionist I guess.

After reading Zacks update at work today I decided I was going to write about my ex-girlfriends in some kind of odd/funny way, just because I felt the need again to write and have been thinking about them three in the last few days... With a bit of brainstorming and notes I came up with some intresting ways to write it, but, no matter how I tried to make the story funny (“"you shall be visited by three ghosts this night, Scrooge! 3 ex-girlfriends!"), I still couldn’t get away from the fact that I am dwelling on girls that no longer exist to me, which is emo bullshit and nothing is as annoying as a person on the internet talking about how their lives are so fucked up because of how sad their lives are. It's tough to make that kind of crap funny, so I trashed the idea. But, the article was added to the folder with the rest of the shit and it still might resurface again later when I find the right setting for it. Who knows.

Anyway, thanks for the inspiration Zack! I am sending you $40.00 so you can buy a wheel of cheese and eat the whole thing in one sitting. I want pics of you with the cheese wheel wearing nothing but a pink Speedo of course. Thanks.

You Must Be Joking

Hit counter is up (finally).

Black & White

I saw a guy today wearing a Nascar baseball cap and a Toronto Raptors jacket at the same time, which is something I thought I would never see in my life; a white (maybe even “whites only”) sport from the very heart of southern confederate America and a very urban sport, mostly predominated by black dudes combined in one person. It was very odd to see I think you would agree.

Hey, perhaps this guy'’s the one that keeps both sport communities in perfect harmony so that they don’'t implode the universe or something? That would be pretty weird wild weird stuff I think you would agree.

Actually, that theory is a little far fetched since this guy's debit card was denied at the beer store. The Chosen One would not have a debit card, much less one that would be denied by the beer man himself. It would be cash only I am sure for the One, just like in my dreams.

Paranoid Android

Party last night was nice (happy birthday Sand dune), even with it’s large groups of people I did not know and breif episodes of paranoia and self-reflection. I did get to see Paul and Sarah again, which I haven’t seen in a while, which was nice.

I woke up a bit hung-over and I needed to read up on some stuff before going in to work tomorrow and hate the idea of just lying in bed and reading about work. It just seems so incredibly wrong, dosen’t it? Sure a good book you enjoy reading on the weekend is awesome stuff, but lying there naked reading work stuff in bed on a Sunday morning? That’s totally wrong personified. So, I went to the Superstore and bought a slice of pizza and a pop and did the Sunday afternoon thing of going somewhere to study, like a college kid.

After reading up on my technical work shit and finishing my bad slice of 2 dollar pizza, I spent 5 minutes studying the delicate process of the cutting and preparation of a box of pineapples, which was shown to me by the employee dude directly below me. Seriously, I was there for like a half hour and all he did was cut up fruit. You think he goes home and study the fruit cutting process on his free time? I doubt it.

Today I Learned What "phishing" Is And Boy, It's Nasty Stuff

Going to a tag team birthday bash tomorrow night, celebrating the birth of my friend Sandra and the equally important birth of her friend Stacey. Elton and his "special friend" Bernie Taupin taught me a long time ago that Saturday night is alright for fighting, so at this party, I plan on smoking crack, huffing gasoline, snorting peyote, licking the back of an African poisionous toad and then punching someone in the face for no reason whatsoever and then removing all my clothes and attemping to savagely rape a snowman.

Yeah. That's what I call a weekend.



Another pic from last week's photo day.

Who do you think you are? You think you're all that? Go fuck yourself.

Media Piracy is the Work of the Devil Serpent Demon Man

(can't wait to see what kind of hits I get from Google with this post title. Fuck off if you think I am in any way serious)

I have been downloading a lot of music from the internets recently, like full songlists from Pink Floyd, Greenday, Dave Matthews, Coldplay, Radiohead, Delete Festus and about a million jazz songs. This shit is addictive I tell you. High speed, you will be the death of my purity.

The attraction of purchasing a DVD burner so I can download movies and enjoy them on my TV is not unlike a little horny devil on my left shoulder. His promises are sweet, but my perfect angelic mind knows in the long run, the serpent’s ways will lead to the path to Hell and I will burn eternally for an eternity in eternal hellfire, which is made out of eternal flames in the eternal domain that is Hell. Also, according to catholic tradition, I may also get poked with hot tridents by pissed off demons at the same time as I am burning in the aforementioned hellfire... for eternity in eternal burning pain.

I ask you, who wants that to happen to them? No one, that’s who.

Anyway, I don’t think I will buy a DVD burner.