What I Think is the End of My Dream (I Don't Know, I Was Awakened by the Alarm Clock

Tim cried himself dry. He went hoarse. The only sound he could make were small grunts and sighs, sounds that didn't require the use of badly damaged vocal chords. He writhed in his small room, like an animal in a snare, his caught leg half chewed through, trapped by his own thoughtlessness. He was grieving. The change was dramatic, the fire had been extinguished. His eyes had become milky and carried a hundred yard stare. His once rigid frame was now made more gaunt by drooping shoulders, and a deliberate walk replaced by a somnambulistic shuffle. He was placed on suicide watch and beside the omnipresent video surveillance, a guard checked in on him every hour. He didn't move from his bed, but instead turned, one side, the other, back and forth, for three days, then he stopped. He rose uncertainly from the bed took two stumbling strides and fell prostrate on the floor. He clenched his hands white above his head and tucked his knees up to his chest, face down, buried in the floor. He began to rock, forwards and backward to a steady inaudible rhythm. The guard decided to make his round a little early, goaded by his growing curiosity. He strode his confident cop walk to the door of the cell and opened the small slot where the food tray was usually passed through. A small hoarse croak grated its way through the slit.
"I'm sorry, Lord, so sorry, forgive me, you will always forgive me"
The officer felt the blood and bile rise in his throat, a well of repressed hatred and disgust. All these criminals, this scum crying out for forgiveness for their atrocities. The door of the cell flew open. Tim raised his head from the floor a moment before it was driven back by the force of the officer's immaculate, black polished boot.
"There is no forgiveness for you, for any of you, you sick fuck! You killed a whole family, beautiful little girls, beautiful wife! There is no forgiveness for that!"
The boot continued to fall without remorse, until there was little left that could even be recognized as human. The whole of Tim's face was a mess, destroyed by the force of the officer's hatred. The only thing recognizable was his mouth, amidst the broken teeth and blood was his dieing expression, it was his giant smile.

A Wrinkle in Time

Wrinkles are a record of life. They are a timeline of events and how they were taken. The tears run rivulets down the cheeks. The eyes draw lines out like a seed giving bloom into branches creating a permanent expression. They match the lines around the mouth, a dead give away pressed into a permanent smile or scowl. The forehead folds into a look of deep thought, a look of wisdom. I find it almost unfathomable why you would want to erase them, to return it to its youthful inexperience. The shallow and vain are ashamed they have lived so much life and yet are so little the better for it. Their faux-youth is a disguise, it is an attempt to reconcile their mind to their appearance, to create an excuse for their immaturity. True wisdom and perspective wear wrinkles as an honor and a witness to lessons learned and character forged in the kiln of adversity. Hardship is worn like a scar across the chest of a heart patient, a testament to the ability of the human spirit to overcome and thrive. The rich and vain erase this record, ashamed that they have no right to wear such a badge.

Joy to the World

So I officially have one week of school and its maddening. I swore I would never get sucked into the maelstrom of finals, but when I caught myself pondering the best spot to jump from our school's clocktower, I knew I had lost. So you might be happy to hear I didn't carry out my desperate plot and instead spent a little extra time in shop attempting to catch up. I am now in "the know." Through the grace of God (emphasis on that part), I have lived through yet another crisis, I feel ready to face the world, or at least the holiday season. They call it Christmas break, its anything but. They just had to lighten the load somehow and you can't stop a freight train like Christmas, so in a last ditch effort to reduce the pressure, all other systems are put on hold and the power is rerouted to the Christmas Drive. This lets the holiday gain a fevered pitch that accumulates into a one day orgy of covetousness, gluttony, and greed. This is the best way we could think to celebrate the birth of the Messiah. I love it, and you should love it to.

Short Christmas Rant

I feel like I should talk about something Christmas-y and festive. I've already being overexposed to bad Christmas song remakes and I had to go on a Christmas light run to WalMart so my friends could destroy any appeal their room had. So maybe its a better idea to keep my "bah, humbug" to myself. There is probably somebody out there who still in love with the holiday season. Good for you. Tis the season.

What Do You Think of That?

This is a question for the readers. Do you find you have to disagree w/ almost everything your mind says? You know all them Pentecostal told me, when I pray I need to also listen to God. I don't buy it. God is not the voice in my head, and now I feel a whole lot better. That voice is out to kill me. It makes a whole lot more sense that God be on the outside. It is another pentecostal lie that says that Jesus lives in your heart. The Word is in our heart, which is Christ in a way, in the way of his mindset, not his actual being. Their is no person on the inside you should be listening to. Due to my previous history of drug use, a gate has been opened and not a ot of good things got through. I sincerely believe that drugs open the mind to the spiritual world, but both sides get in. If you don't believe me, go find some truly burnt out hippies. They have some pretty strange ideas and some satranger behavior. Where do you think that influence comes from? I watched a program on the CNN Book Channel or whatever its called. The man that was speaking had just had a book published called "The God Delusion". He blames the idea of God for a lot of things. I watched his program and find myself disappointed. All his arguments were at best trite. I realized that in myself I'm looking for something, some solid argument, so I could be, "Aha God, yeah he showed you." I don't want to believe in God. I don't want to believe this is the Truth. But nothing else even comes close. In this I realized that God is terrible. This was so refreshing! I don't meant the terrible that is more closely related to awful. I mean the terrible that means great w/ a touch of exciting terror and awe. The kind of terrible that is so jealous and wild that He will destroy your life, your world, just to force you to your knees, to force you to His Breast. A big and determined lover that pursues harder than any Jason or Freddy Krueger, and for some reason that makes me happy.

How Bored Must the Readers Be?

See the whole point I was trying to make yesterday was..... oh, nevermind. You win. I will continue to try to place a few words every few days to appease the masses. I attend an adult youth group. Its the best way to describe it. Those who haven't caved yet to the Sunday Morning Christianity can come Tuesday nights to a relaxed informal atmosphere w/ coffee and movie clips. Its filled with mostly twenty-somethings and its jut as common to hear Stevie Wonder as Mercyme, or as I call them Mercyplz, as in please turn them off. So we just started a teaching on how the world views the church, good, bad, and funny. It is pretty eye opening and I feels like this could lead to something deeper. Last week we looked at the dangers of conforming vs. isolating, and tried to figure out how to balance in the middle. This is the exact sort of struggle I'm having right now in my own life. Where is the line? The best I can say right now is it moves, so follow the Spirit and you'll always be on the right side.

Vacancy

Somewhere in the last two months I climbed back in my head. I was out for about two years, I learned alot, but now I need to mull it over, "overanalyze" it, and I might come out again after that. I sit down to think my great prophetic insights and find I have none. Therefore I feel to write anything is to simply waste your time. My life is not exciting enough to write about, I don't pay close enough attention to the outside world to find anything interesting there, and as aforementioned the brain is on drain. I can make you a pretty nice dovetail joint though. I'm really still struggling to define myself in my new enviroment, I find myself drawn to some of my old habits (cigarettes and video games) and still trying to break the grip of others. I also find myself drifting from others, writing. I finding myself with a stronger desire for God and desire to find something to do for Him, otherwise just treading water, and learning about varnish.

Somewhere in Space

Sorry everybody, I know I just sort of dropped off the face of the earth. My computer has an unregistered version of Windows, so I can't log in, and nothing worth writing about has happened, and I'm just really going through a dark time. I could use prayer, if you do that sort of thing, just that my faith gets strengthened. How is that for vague? Otherwise call me and we can talk about it, maybe. I'm doing better and plan on improving more, its just an uphill battle and I was feeling pretty alone for awhile. Things are getting better, or getting worse before they get better, but they always get better.

Hey, That's My Answer

An unidentified teen was expelled from Thaddeus Stevens today on account of plagiarism. It appeared the student had been taking very detailed notes from the teacher's lectures and from the textbooks provided for the class. The teen had then been studying these notes and using them to answer test and homework assignments, without giving the proper citations to the source material. The student was quoted as saying, "I guess I saw everybody else doing it and thought it was okay. The people who didn't take notes really seemed to be struggling, and I knew I didn't want to be one of them. This was the only thing I could think to do." It would be comforting if this were an isolated case, but across the United States and even in other countries, a pandemic of note taking is undermining the educational system. Many teachers are fighting back and are requiring a no pencil policy in their classrooms. But even here the students have begun to use cell phones to dictate key points.
"I don't want students thinking they can use the information I provide to answer complicated questions. I worked hard to arrive at these conclusions and I don't appreciate some slacker coming along, copying the information, and thinking he has the right to use it." This quote of a local High School Math teacher is the common sentiment felt around the world, a world that is tired of being taken for granted for being smart.

Breaking News

There was an assasination attempt on our president today, our student president. She had become very vocal recently about affirmitaive action in grades. Under the new initiative a certain percentage of the A's would have to be allocated to ethnic minorities. This initiative faced strong opposition from the Math Club lobbies and the Honor Society lobby. This tension exploded today, when the president, en route between addressing the student congress and a luncheon with the ambassador to UPenn, was gunned down by an unknown assailant. As of the hour, the police are investigating the list of potential valedictorians to see if they kind find a suspect to link to the crime. The President is recovering in her Presidential Dorm Room under the watchful eye of Wackenhut Secret Security.
p.s. Penny here is your link to the The Hug Poem.

A Can of Lies

I was first introduced to Half-Caff today. Its created by Folger's and is advertised as the same full taste with only half the caffeine. To be quite frank, I don't trust it. The Half-Caff is spelled with two f's, which is the exact same amount of f's in the regular caffeinated version. If it has half the caffeine, shouldn't it have half the f's? Yeah it should, and Folger's knows that, so it makes me wonder, "Why the two f's?" The answer is obvious, because its actually slightly more than half the caffeine. Oh Folger's, you thought you could fool the regular joe, but I have caught you in your own lies, so for that I'm sticking to the regular joe.

Venn Zen

You all need to check this out at least once, or if you're like me it will go into your growing list of blogs to keep tabs on. Its a pretty funny take on life brought to you in easy (usually) to understand chart form. The dots that are connected in this artist's mind are hilarious and off-kilter, one of my favorite combinations. So don't take my word for it, get to it.

Movies That Move the Masses

This is a list I found. It is a good list, a down-home list. This isn't some elitist, artsy-fartsy, so I look so cultured, list. This is the list of the masses. So check it out, watch them, enjoy them, and see what you think.
p.s. I got the link working now. Sorry.

Politics According to Google

This is just a funny little quirk, or is it? What I need you to do is go to the Google homepage and search the word "failure" or better yet "miserable failure" and check out who you get. Why, you might ask? Maybe because of his lousy performance and maybe because of this. I'll let you decide, either way, its funny.

Because People Need to Know

The boy scouts have an a long illustrious history. They have served Americans throughout the ages in various forms: teaching young boys responsibility, decorating doors in Christmas wreathes, helping old ladies across the street, and selling those wonderful cookies. Wait, girl scouts sell the cookies, but I eat them in honor of the boy scouts. But the best part of boy scouts by far is the earning of merit badges. These small, round little wonders let the world know, that you are not some simple loser, but that you have accomplished something, you are somebody. But alas, all those not active in boy scout-dom have been deprived of the immense joy and sense of accomplishment contained in that small cotton patch. All that is about to change. For the first time ever, I'm offering the everyman scout merit badges. Using the top secret method I can custom make a merit badge, so you can show the world, what you have accomplished. This is going to be the first line of badges:

Watched the Entire First Season of Macgyver Merit Badge

Maxed Out All My Credit Cards Merit Badge

Master Myspace Design Layout Merit Badge

and my personal favorite, Mashed Potato Sculpture Merit Badge

This is just the start of, I hope, a long history of enabling people to proudly wear their accomplishments for all to see. But I need more ideas, so everybody, cough'em up. Tell me what I should make into the second wave of badges. No one is exempt, no accomplishment to small, no reference too vague, lets show the world, I am Somebody.

All Points Bulletin On My Evil Twin

This is warning to all people I know, their is an evil twin out there trying to kill me. She has been trying to get information about my whereabouts, you must not, I repeat, you must not tell her anything. She's crazy and quite possibly emo. She can be recognized b/c like me, she was born on July 26th, and like me, she has an older half-sister, three younger siblings, a mom from a South American country, and a dad from a small town in Wisconsin. She often goes by the alias, Anna Marie Pickled Cucumbers Banana Sandwich Von Crapp and claims to be my daughter, just to get information from unsuspecting relatives. She is very persuasive and often tries to convince others that in fact I'm the evil twin. This is untrue. I was born first and she was cloned from me. Do not believe her story about I'm the evil clone and she was sent back to the past to kill me. Do not be persuaded by her trend setting futuristic style or her knowledge of my family and friends. She is very smart and very convincing. If you have any information regarding my evil twin, please let me know, and for goodness sake, do not tell her I'm living in Pennsylvania, or that my email address is notminebydesign@yahoo.com, or that I have this top secret blog. The results could be catastrophic.

My Legacy

I got into a little trouble today. I think if the officer hadn't understood my confusion, it could have been a lot of trouble. You see, my friend told me that "Children are the future". I thought that was pretty cool and it really simplified things for me in my mind. So for the rest of the day any kid I ran across got a "hertz doughnut" in the arm. Anyone who doesn't know what a hertz doughnut is, its when you punch someone in the arm and say "hertz doughnut". Well I guess their is some law against hitting children, because some over protective mom must have let the authorities know and they were knocking on my door that night. They were a bit confused and surprised by my behavior and were looking for an explanation. I told them about my friend and how had explained about children being the future. I told that I had intense desire to be famous and leave behind a legacy. I guess the long and short of it was, I was trying to leave a lasting mark on the future. They kind of just stared at me with their mouths slightly open and then, shaking their heads turned and walked away.

Ode to Old

I think it says something about old age if you can sport a World's Greatest Grandparents T-Shirt and think you actually are. I think they must, why else would they being wearing it? Maybe it is some sort of competition initiation. If you think your the world's greatest grandparent, buy this shirt, wear it, and when you run into a similarly dressed geriatric, the fun begins. Right out of the gate, they both go for the cheek-pull, it is judged on final distance of the cheek from the face and the longevity of soreness and redness, whining and squirming on the part of the recipient is also duly noted. Next, the elderly contestant attempts to regal us with one of his "back in my day" stories. Points are awarded here for the number of yawns and eye rolls and how quickly the listener remembers he left a cake in the oven or a child down a well. Senior moments are encouraged. If any of the contestants can pull off the difficult maneuver of falling asleep mid-sentence, the victory, is pretty much a given. The final feat of senility is the guilt trip. Here the senior is attempts to convince the listener that they don't visit enough and are entirely ungrateful for the hard work and skillful mastery of raising this family. Tears have become almost mandatory for a competitive edge and anything from threats to bribes have been employed to ensure a swift return. This is always a food time for the grandparent to pull out old skeletons and family secrets, especially hinting at them in front of strangers and in public places. The points are tallied up and the final victor is decided. As a badge for their victory, the loser is stripped of all their world's greatest paraphanelia, this includes key chains, license plates, t-shirts, visors, and fanny packs. These items are awarded to the victor. This and discount coffee with my AARP discount are why I can't wait to get old.

Math is My Friend

Today in breaking news, math has proven once and for all that girls are evil.
The equation as I understand it goes like this:

Girls require time and money.

"Time is money."

So girls are money squared.

Money is the root of all evil.

So girls are evil.


This and other math breakthroughs can be found here.

Whatsamatta U

I'm in my first week of Vo-Tech School. That stands for Vocational and Technical for those of you who didn't know. Trade Schools are kind of infamous for their "bottom of the barrel" student body and I have the perfect example. I am not making this up. These words actually had the opportunity to be expelled from a student's mouth. The question was, "What is a plethora?" The reply? "Oh, isn't that those fake leather pants you buy at the mall?" Three days in and I feel smarter already.

Never Too Old For Cartoons

For some reason I haven't been able to outgrow cartoons. I mean yes some of them have lost their pizzazz and you won't catch me watching Blue's Clues or Arthur. No offenses to those who enjoy the aformentioned programs. But I love Spongebob and Foster's Home for Imagianary Friends. I also love the animated movies of Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli. But the real reason I'm writing this is to highlight the fact that you can watch some of my favorite cartoons on these sites. First off is http://toonamijetstream.com. I go their to watch Naruto. Naruto was a popular Manga in Japan and is now an equally successful cartoon. The main character is an orpan ninja in training and the website has the first five or six episodes. But be quick they will only be up for about a month longer. The nice thing though is they post a new episode every week or so. The second site is http://turbonick.com. This site has tons of winners. they have newbies like Spongebob and Avatar, but the best part is they have classics like Ren and Stimpy, Rocco's Modern Life, and Invader Zim. I love it! So if you got some time to kill and a broad band connection, I strongly reccommend getting your kid on and watching some old school toons. The best part there is little to no commercials, so sweet.

As Diverse as a Box of No. 2 Pencils

This one is more of a thinker, more of that big picture stuff I seem to get stuck in. I'm just got finished with diversity training. So I feel I'm adequately educated to comment on the subject. We were taught all about acceptance of differences. This is diversity. But strangely enough, all of us, being diverse and accepting, are actually not. If I dislike homosexuals or their lifestyle, I'm seen as unacceptable. But why isn't a homosexual seen as unacceptable for not accepting my view? I'm not trying to argue right or wrong. I am strictly talking about acceptance. If I'm supposed to be accepting of women in the workplace, why aren't they expected to except males who prefer women in the home? You could try to carry that over to different skin colors. But if you do, could you be more specific? How dark does my skin have to be before I'm no longer white? If you hate Native Americans because of their skin color, you should probably also hate most high school cheerleaders. They tan so much its the same color. So maybe you hate their culture. This I can understand a little better, but get it straight. Skin color is such a poor indicator of what someone is like. You might as well hate all people who wear baseball caps, at least they had a choice in it. Even here, the diversity proponents perpetuate the cycle by acting as if their is such a thing as ethnicity based on skin color. Ethnicity is based on upbringing. If I was raised in a Asian family, but I'm dark-skinned or round eyed, I'm still Asian. We need a massive rethinking of skin color. It needs to be treated as it actually is, something independent of all other attributes. But that is just a tangent, back to the subject at hand. Diversity in my school, means everybody thinks the same way. We all accept everything and everybody as long as they do the same. As soon as someone has concrete beliefs that disagree with your own, they are intolerant. We all sit in class, and say we need to celebrate diversity. We do this by having no distinguishing differences, and sitting around applauding each other on our ability to accept diverse peoples. I end by saying only the truly diverse and acceptant will even be able to give this a read, without thinking of me as a bigot and hate monger, and in this I rest my point. I actually teach acceptance of all people, though non-acceptance towards specific behavior. The world system wants extremists in all regards. I preach moderation and middle ground. The true balance of a loving and violent God.

The Best Thing Since Sliced Bread....

I found myself traveling across this great land recently. This creates the opportunity to participate in one of my favorite activities, truck stop diners. This of course runs the risk of the crabby waitress. Up until just recently, I found myself often at the whims and fancies of a chain smoking, post-menopausal, retired Dallas Cowboys cheerleader. They would give you that look, expressing their desire to be caressing that cigarette, left still smoking in the break room, and remembering the glory days when Bobby Quarterback use to shell the big bucks just to shake her pom-poms. Instead she in some dirt dive waiting on geriatrics spending their pension checks on senior discount coffee and French onion soup. But my brother and I think we have found a solution. We all know that every waitress is dependent on tips. I mean come on $3 an hour isn't going to get you very far in life. She already smokin' that money up, just to deal with the AARP fan club. So we have created an incentive. When we first find ourselves seated at the booth, we place a "tip counter" on the table in plain sight. The tip counter is a small device with a number amount printed on it, much the same way that an odometer would. The words "YOUR TIP" are printed huge right above it. There are two buttons on the top of the device, one reduces the amount and the other increases it. So the waitress rolls her eyes, I hit the button, you just lost ten cents lady. She doesn't fill my cup with everybody else, that's 20 more cents. I think this helps them visualize in a more tangible way how their behavior is affecting their pay scale. After just a few minutes all you have to do is hover your hand over the tip counter and, you can see an almost magical transformation. It has greatly improved my restaurant experience. If this sounds like something that you need, just drop me a line and we'll send you one for the paltry cost of $10. You easily pay that off in the benefit of improved restaurant service, I know I have.

Too Much Thinking Leads to Too Much Action

I made it. I just finished the last week of Summer School. Anyone who has finished a semester of college has a feeling of the relief I feel. I'm blaming that black cloud of projects and papers for my recent blog inactivity. I'm also blaming anything having to do with chewing gum. I was one step from inadvertent calamity, right at that precipice of disaster, I realized I couldn't walk and chew gum at the same time. I quickly swallowed the antagonistic wad of cud, and tragedy was avoided. I swear I live with way to much excitement. I was riding the Lancaster Metro, this is a small and inconspicuous form of transport in this burgeoning Amish utopia. Even here, I was quickly drawn into a conspiracy for national takeover. Thanks to my photographic memory, I remember it word and am going to transcribe it for you below. It was between two Hispanic gentlemen, they were speaking in Spanish, and thought I didn't understand.
Afortunado para mi­ hablo espanol!
For the sake of clarity, I will refer to them by the name of Pedro and Jose, though I don't know their actual names, also I will right the conversation in English so you can understand.

Jose: Long live the revolution.
Pedro: Yes, long live the revolution and the Holy Mother.
Jose: We are so close to taking over this pathetic country.
Pedro: I know they are so focused on the middle east, that they don't notice as we get our operatives hired in their homes, in their orchards, and mowing every yard across this feeble country.
Jose: Soon we shall takeover all their jobs and force them to be our mindless slaves. I have already been offered the overseer's position in Missouri, but they have offered that to almost everybody. I'm holding out for something a little more glamorous.
Pedro: I already took a position as a slave driver. I'm going to help rebuild the Aztec pyramids in place of the Washington Monument. I can't put my finger on it, I love the feel of a leather whip between my fingers.
Jose: I understand your sentiments. (looking at me) Look at that stupid white boy, completely oblivious to all that is about to take place. Doesn't he look fat and ugly?
(they both laugh)
Pedro: He certainly is more ugly than most. How foolish these arrogant Americansns are, not taking time to learn our language.
Jose: Yes, they can't speak our language so they have done us the favor of already translating everything over to spanish for us.
This will save us a lot of time in the rebuilding. But alas, this is my stop, for the motherland, brother.
Pedro: Yes, long live the revolution, goodbye

Now Back to Your Regularly Scheduled Programming

Something has got to give. The whole course of my day is run by a clock. This use to irk me to no end, but I got over it. So be to class by 8am, go to lunch between noon and 1pm. I can do that, it provides routine, and as humans we all like our routine. Don't believe me?
"Dear can you talk out the trash?"
What do you get? A sigh, an eye roll, "I guess."
Why such the ordeal? Someone's routine was just interrupted. But the thing I can't seem to come to grips with is TV programming. Almost all of our time obligations land on the whole hour, like I pointed out earlier class, work, doctors' appointments, etc. There is the off chance its an 9:30 or something else, but rare. Anyhow, the transportation from point a to b usually takes around 15 minutes at the very least. So their we have our departure time always at some "quarter till" or "quarter after" ("quarter of" for you PA Dutch). Even if its just a short drive you always try to leave a little earlier. But this causes a problem with my television viewing. I always miss at least half my show. So I have come up with a simple solution. My solution is that network TV moves their shows back fifteen minutes. I really think this would solve a lot of problems. I wouldn't be so crabby when I get to where I am going, because I'd know who stole Ariel and Beau's baby. That's all I want, to know what happened. Is that so much? Is it CBS, ABC, FOX, anyone?

Dark Prophecy of the Future (you have to say it in a creepy voice)

Disclaimer: I apologize beforehand this is not funny, but it is interesting.
In the future, images will seamlessly jump from one media to the next. I saw this in a commercial. It wasn't literal in the commercial, but in the future it will be. Remember the gameboy w/ game cube connection? Now replace the connection wirelessly and fluidly and you get the idea. But that is small stuff, because the media itself is still limited by the screen. The leap media needs to make is to dispose of the screen. So that instead a TV program being a moving picture. A TV program is an actual program, it downloads and adapts to the environment. Dora the explorer and I go on a treasure hunt around my house. I look in a pair of shoes and there is the clue. I touch it and it jumps into the air, unfolding and singing its song. At the half hour slot, its over. The images are carried on my person. They are projected by my clothing or my cell phone. The box that the signal is sent from, the TV is completely aware of the house and all its objects, in much the same sonar or radar is accomplished, so it can customize the episode to fit inside my home. The episode looks for a few parameters. A six inch clearance from the floor to hide the clue. A surface table-esque in nature to set up a puzzle. The parameters can be compromised, the clearance might be a doorway or the table actually the floor if the required objects can't be found. Does this sound to outrageous? Trying telling that to the Orville Brothers.

Where My Fries At?

My dignity is slowly being destroyed by fast food chains. I'll explain. I enjoy alot of the food produced by fast food restaurants, and not only is the food going to send me to an early grave, it is becoming harder and harder to order the items on the menu. What makes them think I want to ask for a Caramel Kazaam Cheesequake? It might actually taste very good, but I'll never know because those words are never coming out of my mouth in mixed company. Maybe this is to boost the morale of the employees. I know they have the short end of the stick almost every minute of every shift they work. They are under paid and under appreciated. So to make up for this, they get to see us make fools out of ourselves just trying to get a burger.
"Um yes, I would like the uh.. the um.. Extreme Sock Blastin' Southwestern Sahara Thickburger w/ ahh, the umm... please don't make me say this, Chocomonster Mudslide Moolatte. The other tactic is to embarrass the customers with word we don't know or in another language. Does anybody remember Chipotle? They even rubbed it in more with a commercial explaining how to pronounce it. So to counteract this embarrassment, I've now taken to finding the most normal item on the menu and then explaining the offending items position relative to it. That's right, they aren't getting their kicks outta me. "I want the third item down from the nine piece McNuggets, yeah the one right next to the Big'n'Tasty."

The Depths of a Woman's Purse

I discovered a remnant of the Old Magic still alive and thriving in our so called technologically advanced day and age. Its been here for a long time but like most people I haven't noticed it till just a few days ago.
I was sitting at a friends when an innocent question arose from my friend Raina, "Can you get something from my purse?"
immediately the hair on the back of my neck began to stand to attention. Rick tried to evade the question, "I don't go through a woman's purse."
Some masculine instinct fears the purse, a small piece of us knows, we are playing with a power that is not ours to control. We are stepping into a realm where we are powerless. The dreaded reply, "Oh, its just right on top."
The only reason that the item is always on top for a woman is because through some power unbeknownst to me, they can draw the required item out of the abyss with startling immediacy. But for the poor male, all the digging in the world will not cause the item to reveal itself. This is a magic foreign to us.
Just as startling and disconcerting is that the moment after we bow in defeat and offer the purse so she might retrieve the item, does it veritably leap out of the purse into her hand.
doesn't it also seem strange that a woman will always have whatever is required for the situation at hand, be it Band-Aids or Kleenex, soldering iron, or hacksaw. An inexplicable amount of bric-a-brac habitats and seems to multiply in a space that defies it actual space in reality.
All these observations have led me to reconsider what I understand and perhaps gained a new found respect for the powers of a woman.

Sharing Musical Interests

My next door dormmates are huge. They were raised on a whole milk and steak. They also seem to have no personality until 10 o'clock at night. I say this because I never hear a peep out of the room next door until the aforementioned time, then for the next five hours, it sounds like a party in full swing. On Wednesday night, they were bumping Eminem at deafening levels. I was of course attempting to get the recommended seven to eight hours of sleep. I say attempting because it isn't possible while listening to Eminem smacking hoes and disrespecting his grandma. I decided that nonviolent confrontation was all this situation needed. It was after 11:30pm. I went to there door and knocked, a bit apprehensive, b/c remember, they're big. No one was there! Arghhh!
Dear Abby, What the heck are these people thinking?
So now I'm tired, which is fine I know how to stay awake in class, but my mind keeps wandering off. I think I need to eat more green olives.
But don't pity me to much, because today I got Luciano Pavarotti performing "La Boheme" and around 4am tomorrow morning, I think I'm going to introduce them.

Caution: Read at Your Own Peril

Somebody put something into my chocolate frosted yellow cake. It isn't a first time. Fortunately this time I noticed it quick enough to counter it with the only remedy I know, Vanilla Ice Cream. I beginning to believe somebody doesn't want this blog to be written. First it was the Anti-Brain Matter Waves, but I quickly learned you could filter those out by eating green olives to counteract it and wearing a household strainer on my head. I think it has something to do with the more political nature of my musings. I know I must being making a very few high end officials a little nervous when I expose the whole Easter bunny cover up. Yeah I know why you allowed the Easter bunny to become Easter's most beloved icon. I've heard all about the dropping interest in eggs and dyes. Oh yes, and I will not be terrorized into telling the truth. So there I said it and I hope they like it, Mr. House of Representatives, Mr. Speaker of the House, Mr. Democratic Minority Leader, there. If I should disappear for a long time, I will my CD's to my little brothers and everything else to Pierre the French circus clown.
Pierre you made me laugh like I never knew I could laugh before and have never laughed since. The time we spent together was funny and I'll never forget it. If you have any glue, mine is old and coming undone, I don't know how much longer I can keep it together. For the rest of you fighting the good fight of truth and honesty in groceries. I'm back to the front

My Life As I Think It

Have you ever had something really smart to say, but when you went to say it all of a sudden you got nothing. I haven't, if I got something to say it usually comes across at least grade school level. But for me, the trouble is finding something to say. I could say, "I went to school to day, ran into Bob Dylan. I couldn't understand a thing he said." But come on that's boring. Inversely, not that this is so much better. I guess I need more interesting things to start happening to me. So I'm trying to say in a subtle sort of way.
When you all gonna send some ninja assassins after me?
Come on, what's a guy gotta do to get himself set up to get knocked down? That is what I call excitement. You come home late at night, walk into your dorm room, and somersault into a defensive roll narrowly missing the blade humming by your head. You jump up and roundhouse kick the guy putting him in a choke hold, "Who do you work for? Who sent you?" But before you can squeeze an answer out, he bites down on a fake tooth and the cyanide inside kills him instantaneously.
I mean come on that's worth blogging about.
Me: What did you do last night?
Normal Bore: Oh, I was playing World of Warcraft, my level thirty ogre found this new...
Me:(interrupting) Silence yourself and your inane babble, your existence is futile and drab, I successfully fought off a ninja assassination attempt, you life next to that is banal.

This way I could keep the excitement going because that same normal bore actually turned out to be a twisted mad geneticist and he made some giant lobster-scorpion hybrid and hid it in my bathroom. I love my life.

Got to Write Something

Its the 3rd of July, Yeah! Second week of school and I still got my head above water. Yes! I've always been a strong starter. Its the finishing part I've always struggled with. How about you? Does anyone know a better way to broaden my audience w/o actually having to make new friends? I suppose I could talk about more relevant and sophisticated subject matter. But come on, aren't we all just a little tired of all that heady nonsense.
"...But there's a call to love my brother
That can never be destroyed however much you talk,
However well you talk you make a certain sense
It's still only stupid talk..." -mewithoutyou "leaf"
I'm on this kick of quoting bands, I'm becoming my mom. She will start humming a song for just about anything you tell her. Its actually kinda fun, you should try it. If you can't do it, you need to listen to more music. Its the only solution. I going to go to California this august, so if you need anything just let me know, so I can pick it up for you. Other then that. I'm serious you need to listen to more music, so get to it... Oh yeah and check out this game. Its called Flow. It can be found at
jenovachen.com
If you get bored, which won't be for a minute, maybe read his thesis or check out his other games.

electromuse

today fun with weird electronic music
www.electrocraft.com
check out these instruments.
You can see one in use if you watch the Plan B(live) video by Mute Math.
Too cool.
http://www.moogmusic.com/
Ok now drool over some old skool vintage analog synths.
The little Phatty almost affordable. Yeah right.
http://hellven.org/
Now this one has a alot of back story with something called the demoscene. It also has free music. A little known fact is tha Hunz, one of the colabs was lead singer for the christian rock band, beanbag.
Last of all get to know this guy, Thomas Jenkinson.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Squarepusher
especially read the philosophy part, this guy has some out there ideas.
and then check him out live here:
http://forum.watmm.com/index.php?showtopic=6881
so thanks for coming along on my little tour, that about wraps it up, until next time.

i meant to write this

purevolume.com/portugal.theman

So this is my first blog from TSCT. That stands for Thaddeus Stevens College of Technology, you can probably understand why I abbreviate.
a
Check out this band, especially you Patric.
I'm in Comp 106, writing about writing. Does that seem to be a bit of a redundancy for you? Wait..I have to pay attention for a bit... nope, false alarm. The way too much like high school, except the work is harder, which I don't know how I feel about right now, I am glad to being work again, but they didn't give a math class. That is not cool, because I love math. English is cool but whenever its graded I get all weird about it. I journal but that is so much less intimidating. But I have confidence in my writing ability these days so, I'm going to handle that, son.

Out of Habit, Stronger Than Ambition

Their is less than three weeks, in which, the conclusion of the last twenty-two months of my life will be reached. Yes it is true, I am finally leaving the umbrella from the storm of life I call, Teen Challenge. I will be entering the small circle of another umbrella called Thaddeus Stevens College of Technology. To say apprehensive would be redundant. No parents, no friends, no one but my God and and my dreams, which by the way keep me up at night. Did I mention that? It seems satisfaction and success are a thing of the past. A thing for old people, motivational speakers and valedictorian. They don't exist in the real world, especially among christians, at least not in my generation. We all are miserable failures, or beautiful failures. We are being robbed. I'm so uncertain I can do anything to change it, it being myself. I want to make a difference, but everyone I care about, everyone I relate to is trapped in sin and running from God. Why? More importantly..."Why not me?" Am I just waiting? Is the only reason I'm still standing b/c I'm still in Teen Challenge. I refuse to be come institutionalized. I would rather be dead. I mean that. Does this sound like fear? Do you like questions?

no one listens to me, so please listen to this...

www.myspace.com/saxonshore

A Laugh (or something like it)

This week has been full of all sorts of new and interesting experiences...
and quite frankly I like it. Their was a ride in a scissor lift to 30+ feet only to be topped by a 50+ foot ride in a cherry picker the very next day. I must suggest,if the oppurtunity presents itself, do not pass this up. Then agin yesterday, the new and mysterious presented itself in the form of my first catch of a bass. It wasn't huge, but it was big. So top that, you can't because its my experience and not yours. Sorry, I didn't mean that last bit. Please don't stop reading, I need readers.

A Man and His Tools

Hello Faithful Reader,
You should all be happy to see it has been a scant three days in passing. This is marked improvement. Today in the mail, a letter arrived from my future alma mater. It had a list of tools to procure before the beginning of the semester. This made me very happy. Every man loves tools, stereotypically. Don't limit the word tool to a hammer or chainsaw. But for a moment ponder on the joy of a new paintbrush or computer software, or even a guitar or keyboard. The possibilities lay out before our vision, seemingly endless. Oh bliss, your name is potential. In other news, I'm in process of trying to procure some form of musical instrument. So please keep the peepers peeled for a deal in just about anything w/ strings.

How long has it been?

Their is a fear to post due to my obvious negligence. I abandoned the child. What if he no longer wishes my involvement in his life? But an attempt has to be attempted.

Life is...

Feel free to add whatever b/c it has been that at one time or another. Do any avoid the entire spectrum of emotions? Life has presented itself to me in that very introspective tone it becomes in the face of moving on. College looms on the brink of thought, drawing nearer with each passing day. What new excitement and challenges shall be presented? What overstated metaphors shall be used to describe the experience? There seems to be a great many unknowns of late. Its exhilarating and tends to make me a touch of a grouch. My days aren't use to this amount of excitement and are straining from the load, this weight is straining my joints and members. But this is called exercise and it is bound to shape my malleable mind into a burgeoning cornucopia of insight and wisdom. So you would be led to believe. You would be wise to be led that way. Please pass the word the wizard is back in the Emerald City, and the wizard will be sure to keep you all delighted with his bag of tricks.

Scott Joplin

I am entertainer. I just realized this and thought you all should know. It helps add focus.

On and On, We Go

I love music, I hate it too, but that is only for moments. Most of the time I love it, but not in the same way I love Jesus. But I think you probably could have guessed that. I am hoping to go to my first concert in over a year. If it goes well and is fairly painless, I plan on making it a regular habit. The times I hate music are the times I play it, usually. I can rarely play the way I want to. Anyone who plays an instrument understands my pain. If you don't, pick up and instrument and try to play your favorite song. Now you understand. So I keep trying. The other part about music I hate is trying to convince other people to play it with you. I'm alluding to a band. I have been trying for close to a decade to start even the most rudimentary of bands. It always fails. But music, the kind I listen to and occasionally play, okay maybe more often than I like to admit, I fall into this strange hole and the music sweeps me away and I just float along and God is there and all is well. Ah, well I'm sure you already knew that, Charlie calls it "feelin' infinite". I think he hit it on the head.

I'm broken (in a good way)

This is a rant against all the beautiful answers you can seem to rattle off with polished and well worn practice. It is so easy to be cliche and angst. I'm sorry, there I said it and now I'm going to finish. Read Jeremiah, you know in the Bible, God talks loud and clear, and no Emily, he never refrained from expressing all the pain and hurt his love caused him. In mid sentence he would turn around and plead for this emotional murder to end. It was completely nonsensical, b/c he knew they wouldn't, it wasn't for them, it was for us, to show the depths of a love I will never understand and am most thankful for that. Why does this family have to be so stupid? Arghhhhh!
I luv misery!
I luv misery!
I luv misery!
The world sucks, it kills, maims, destroys.
Why do you want to add to that?
Why don't you want to fight it? Why are you willing to let it all pass by and do nothing?
We, the complacent, have no right to call ourselves human beings. We are feeding off the blood and oppression of millions, I am not talking metaphorically, this is literal. You have no right to be happy, when so many suffer, yet you all sit in your semi-comatose state whining. Life is not happiness. True fulfilling life is struggle. America and all the supposed advanced cultures are so empty and meaningless b/c they successfully removed the struggle and thus removed life itself. Life has become empty repetition and the search for the next increasingly less fulfilling high. I want you to know, I want you all to understand. But you just don't care, numb, only pain will wake you from your catatonic, narcissistic coma. Bring the misery, bring down the pain like razor blades from the sky, wake the dead, stir the dieing and bleed, bleed life.

M.I.A.

My dear most sensible reader,
I must apologize not once, but profusely for my leave of absence. I have been on the front lines these few scant weeks and already I can see this will be no easy mission. I feel in the past I've been to vague in my purpose, so in turn I now purpose to bring specifics to light and we can go from there into the great battle that is being waged against us poor sheep. But don't betray hope, it is our rock. Not just any hope I might add, but hope in the all defeating power of love as proved in the actions of one man, one God, Jesus Christ. Alas, I digress, quick to specifics. I found myself in a an engaging conversation regarding love for mankind. It is a strange juxtaposition that as one's love for mankind grows, it can almost become impossible to look on the face of the lesser in even the most rudimentary respect. It was also brought to light that those that care for the "lesser man" will in the name of their "cause" perform all sorts of base actions. They especially feel it of no consequence to manipulate and extort the rich and privileged as if by their own fortune they have in a sense aborted their humanity. On the contrary the rich seem in many senses to be more adrift then us supposed less fortunate. They having attained all the things we consider necessary for happiness and finding themselves still unhappy. Their own educations become a hindrance to them, keeping them from excepting the "simpler" truths. For waste, it is all vanity.
What can we we do in the face of such evil?
We must love all in a none condescending manner, loving the pitiable and failures more than and above all else. We must reward those who have deserved nothing, even those who are undeserving. We must do it, and not philosophize on it. We must not save the world, but our neighbors.
How can you bring peace to the nations, when you can't even lift the spirits of the checkout lady?
I pray that you find encouragement and exhortation. I believe you may find comfort in the knowledge that I myself am not above that which I criticize and, if truth be told, find myself the chief violator

A Call to Arms

Yes I find it is that time once again, time to bathe the populace in the warmth of justice and mercy. Firstly I must take the effort to rebuttal a certain comment by a certain defender:

Who has made you the templar of all that is holy? In all the universe of blogs what has led you to mine? I must deduce it is the lightning bolt of clarity, piercing into the darkness of your black inky soul. Why else in this sea of smut would you have decided to descend on the beauty of this mental flower? In it you have found a true enemy, an opponent to all that is established and mundane. An enemy to all you stand for in your so called order and safety. I will not desist, no with only more grit and determination will I bear the sword of the Spirit, of truth, and bear it gladly with this persecution I see will be sure to follow anywhere when what really matters dares to peek its head from below the ground. Oh, how the the blood pumps hot in my veins, I am alive in this moment! To all the advocates of truth I sound the battle cry, now is the time, here is the place to stand and fight the Armageddon of thought. Truth is not so easy to find we must hunt, seek and destroy (in a nice way). I wait with sharp anticipation for the armies of truth to amass. Your humble commander.

Disclaimer:

Much forethought has been placed in what I am about to state. This blog I must admit, *gasp*, is a work of fiction. Yes, my dear readers, though much contained within is in fact truth. Some of it is stretched and filtered through my own kaleidoscope view of reality. I beg of you not to discredit the views held within as mere rubbish, for to do so would be a dire travesty. In much the way deep truths were conveyed by seemingly trivial stories, ie. Jesus. I too hide the solutions to the palsy that we call society, inside this a vestige of a simple blog. So be warned fellow travelers that all is not what it seems and be comforted that the importance is not the honesty of myself, but the truth. I also must confess I am most taken aback by my affiliation with Jack Kerouac, I find him a dreadful bore and am perceived as most insulted.

Let's try again

I want to meet the person who doesn't feel a touch of elation towards the most wondrous day of Friday. It is the opportunity to jump head first into massive amount of hedonistic activity w/o having to worry if the affect there of won't have the opportunity to be adequately accounted for.
Not that I myself am a particular partaker of such base endeavors. I do enjoy the opportunity afforded there in to find some repose. At the moment most current I bumping the most exuberant melodies of hellogoodbye. If such bliss you, yourself wish to revel in, all is just a simple click away.
www.purevolume.com/hellogoodbye
oh, how I am carried away by the sheer joy of sharing this moment with you.
My intense desire being that in this you may find a sort of affinity w/ myself.
It bring reminisces of staring at the moon and recalling that my dearest love is looking at that same moon. As an aside, I can't sing the praises of this site loud enough. Many a phenomenal piece of audial candy has been supplied here in (free of charge I might be so bold to add).
But back to more pertinent matters, I hope to present some clarity into the madness of existence and fully intend to combat the ills of the world from the safety of my keyboard. I can think of no more noble pursuit and anticipate throwing myself in a headlong pursuit of such lofty and possibly unattainable achievements. But on a lighter note, I wish to conclude this entry with an entreaty to the masses. My desire being that you help the initiation and use of a curious bit of slang. The word itself is "trademark". In situations that an individual or even groups of individuals or businesses (I am expressing the need to be most liberal and creative in its utterance) in their behavior or appearance or vernacular express a quality that in it contains the very essence of their character, you must at once proclaim, "Man, that was trademark!" In this way I will be forever indebted to you and your exemplary behavior. Grace and peace to you from my savior and Lord, Jesus Christ.

So this is the random thrown together mess that is my blog. For some reason it reminds me of much of what I do. But all in all I love it. Got to love it.
I really started this blog to post on my sister's (she had to go and make it difficult.)
But now that I have it mine as well use it.
So maybe more when I have more time.