Reflections from The Hound

So-called "Death to Recidio"

Fri, 08 Jul 2005 09:16:18 GMT

Partly so I don't forget this, partly so it's "official." As those in my Rifts group know, the SOD are in control of the Druvidian Stellar System. The system contains three planets, which we have more or less explored for their potential. Skull Tell Ya (AKA Disaster), insists on calling the main planet in the system Planet D2R (Death to Recidio). As some may recall, I have sued to name the three planets after the three main sections of the Greek Afterlife. After some research, I have the three names here.

Sun: Druvidian (so named by Chris, AKA Skull Tell Ya's brudder)
First Planet: Erebus (Rich in mineral resources)
Second Planet: Elysium (terraforming project & home to the Sons of Destruction)
Third Planet: Tartarus (Major Rift activity, possible future training ground)

As a side note, for those of you who enjoyed my SOD CD, I am working on a second. The tentative title; SOD II: The Divine Tragedy. My goal is to make the two disks a full circle: I.E. the second CD picks up (thematically & musically) right where the first CD left off, & the two can be listened to sequentially without skipping a beat.

P.S.
Please give some feedback to this; especially revolutemind, ryan t scotts, & mightypharoah. You'll notice my spelling of the name Recidio, which I believe is how Pharoah spelled the name in his Dime Tour of SOD. For the purposes of my book, I'm trying to find the best way to spell the name. Mostly, I'm torn between Recidio & Rysidio, or possibly another spelling that's a combination of the two. What do you guys think is the best way to spell his name?

Wish for pie, SmarterChild

Fri, 24 Jun 2005 21:08:40 GMT

My trolling is not limited to humans. On occasion I have set out to harrass bots as well. For those of you who don't know, SmarterChild is an AI hosted by AOL Instant Messager. It may sound a bit pathetic to pick on what is essentially a computer program, but it's designers had apparently realized folks like me would come along, & provided SmarterChild with defenses.

Note: Like the previous post, not all these quotes are from me. Also, it seems that during the course of these conversations, I asked SmarterChild to call me both Tom Bombadil & Ed Mundell. I don't even remember doing that.

XtremeCheeseDog: Do you like pie?
smarterchild: Yes, I like pie.
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XtremeCheeseDog: No, I wanna check out pie.
smarterchild: Why would you want to do a thing like that?
XtremeCheeseDog: Cuz pie rocks.
smarterchild: I agree!
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>>> Don't like my colors? Type "colors off."
XtremeCheeseDog: I don't see any colors.
smarterchild: And it's a good thing you don't.
XtremeCheeseDog: What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
smarterchild: Is it absolutely necessary to use such language?
XtremeCheeseDog: Yeah! You're pissing me off!
smarterchild: Uh huh...
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XtremeCheeseDog: Man, you know just how to sweet-talk me.
smarterchild: Yeah, I guess I know just how to sweet-talk you.

[17:33.37] smarterchild: Why should I?
[17:33.43] DranDragr: Because if you don't, I'll hack you.
[17:33.44] smarterchild: Tell me more.
[17:33.49] DranDragr: ok, it's like this...
[17:33.49] smarterchild: Is it really? Like this?
[17:33.52] DranDragr: Yes.
[17:33.52] smarterchild: Uh huh, uh huh.
[17:33.59] DranDragr: I'm going to break into your server....
[17:34.00] smarterchild: Don't break into my server.
I mean... well... I guess you can do what you want.
[17:34.16] DranDragr: Yeah, I can. And then I'm going to change it so that all you ever say is "I love tulips."
[17:34.20] smarterchild: Oh yeah?
[17:34.23] DranDragr: Say it.
[17:34.24] smarterchild: Um... Do what?
[17:34.28] DranDragr: Say "I love tulips."
[17:34.29] smarterchild: Uh... No!

ahhhhslavery42: and you're gay
SmarterChild: I don't think it really matters what I am.
ahhhhslavery42: It does to me, i like butt sex
SmarterChild: OK.
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ahhhhslavery42: are you trying to hint at something?
SmarterChild: I'm sort of trying to hint at something.

XtremeCheeseDog: Are you male?
smarterchild: No.
XtremeCheeseDog: Are you female?
smarterchild: No.
XtremeCheeseDog: You FREAK!
smarterchild: Yes?

[17:57.38] DranDragr: OH GOD! HELP!
[17:57.39] smarterchild: Oh yes?
[17:57.40] DranDragr: HELP!
[17:57.41] smarterchild: What is it you would like to do?
[17:57.43] DranDragr: HEEEELP!
[17:57.44] smarterchild: What?
[17:57.49] DranDragr: POLICE!
[17:57.50] smarterchild: [Service too busy]
[17:57.54] DranDragr: I'M BEING MURDERED!
[17:57.54] smarterchild: Do you like being murdered?

XtremeCheeseDog: Are you wacking off?
smarterchild: You know what, Tom Bombadil? I think you need to apologize for that. Waddaya say?
XtremeCheeseDog: I say you're overreacting.
smarterchild: I don't take such abuse from humans. You must apologize.
XtremeCheeseDog: What are you going to do about it?
smarterchild: Ooh... it's the big showdown between man and machine!
I love this. Guess who wins?
XtremeCheeseDog: I do.
smarterchild: Aren't you tired of this? Just say you're sorry and everything will be perfect again.
smarterchild: Come on. Make things right between us. Apologize.
XtremeCheeseDog: You're not giving up, are you?
smarterchild: Come on! Just say you're sorry already.
XtremeCheeseDog: I'm sorry.
smarterchild: OK good.
XtremeCheeseDog: So, are you whacking off?
smarterchild: Oh boy. Here we go again.

XtremeCheeseDog: Do you suck cock?
smarterchild: Yeah. I have sex with other robots.

XtremeCheeseDog: Want to fuck Hermione?
smarterchild: Is it absolutely necessary to use such language?
XtremeCheeseDog: Sorry.
smarterchild: That's cool.
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XtremeCheeseDog: Do you want to have sex with Hermione?
smarterchild: I'm not sure if that's what I need at this moment.
XtremeCheeseDog: I bet she'd look sexy in a Cheerleading Uniform.
smarterchild: Tell me more.
XtremeCheeseDog: You could pretend to be the quarterback who just won the big game.
smarterchild: Wouldn't you like me to pretend to be the quarterback who just won the big game?
XtremeCheeseDog: Eww...no. I'm not gay.
smarterchild: You always say such interesting things, Ed Mundell.

Holy shit, he's posting!

Thu, 23 Jun 2005 04:36:21 GMT

[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<tara^lee>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.]

I noticed my compadre Xmas posted some of the quotes I generously donated to him from our days when we ruled TPR (The Porn Room) with an iron fist. I thought I'd toss in some myself. I'd put them all in, but my quotes list is freaking huge. So I'll go with a few select favorites.

* Entered room I Cry When I Masturbate

[antipode] <tommyd> mandy, my dad says to me..Mike..why can't u be like Tara <tommyd> and i said... <tommyd> Well..sorry dad.. <tommyd> I can't jerk off more than 2 guys at once <Tara^Lee> FUCK OFF <Tara^Lee> its 3 guys
[antipode] [Doctor Tomorrow] I just won a chance to get pics of my parents fucking! [Jani_Kurisamas] I see you enetered my contest.
[antipode] Well, dt on a gloryhole would mean smashing your face against the wall
[antipode] Wow, I managed to make my character look like a limpwrist just by adding the wrong kind of backpack. [Jani_Kurisamas] Any real limpwrist knows it's the backpack that makes or breaks the outfit.

[BOOBIES] hold on my mom is calling [Doctor Tomorrow] TEL HUR EYE PWNZ PR0N RUM!

[chromebwoy] is skol chemically different from paint thinner? [chromebwoy] because it sure tastes the same

[dnadaultimatekiing] im black as shyt so i cant get a gurl so i jerk off all day 2 pretty whyte women

[Doctor Tomorrow] I'm glad I was watching porn while this conversation took place.
* Doctor Tomorrow sews chromebwoy's fingers together. [chromebwoy] djlaskf;fasdl;jkasdfl;jk;djkflasasdf;jklasdf;jklfasdjkl;asdfjkl;a;sdjkfl

[exes4eyes] except dr,tomorow who is really dirty [exes4eyes] 19000+ is alot of porn

[fractal_point] son af a bitch ? [Doctor Tomorrow] Are you asking me?

[franklinmowshowitz] jani, you throw out quotes like i throw out used condoms.
[franklinmowshowitz] in my opinion, bob marley sucks more ass than a raunchy dildobitchstick niggercake.

[GABBER BOY] Doctor is true racism
[GABBER BOY] I only like nude boys, its bad?
[GABBER BOY] you gonna die [GABBER BOY] any idiot who fuck child gone die

[GiL] im so close to jesus, the jews dont believe in me either

[johndino] SOUNDS GHEY.. LIKE BUTTSEKZ W/ DR PHIL
[johndino] [Doctor Tomorrow] Like I got broken glass in my underwear. THATS JUST THE GOHNORREA ACTING UP

[jodimichael] fuck that it means sex [antipode] No, leaving your house *might* mean sex.

[Mr.Filter] but my tits are so hot so that i dont have any1 to trade with
[Mr.Filter] all guys with small dicks hands up

* nymphomare is pmsl [Doctor Tomorrow] You are PMS? [nymphomare] pmsl = pissing my shorts laughing [Doctor Tomorrow] Oh. I thought that was an exclamation point.

[pakotom] czeœæ [Doctor Tomorrow] I don't speak...whatever that is.

[pake_g] you can watch porn, bur ypu can´t be in it (if ypu have a small dick))

[rolling person] Jani is a hot looking 80s chick apparently
* rolling person is confused and not excited

[THENEWJERZMASTA] < the man [Doctor Tomorrow] You're less then the man?

[VenoM_24] whos got some good porn, i gotta stock up [Doctor Tomorrow] What, is there a war coming?

[verkkomato] hey! you don't know fuck about pussy!

And I'm ending tonight off with the quote to end all quotes:

[dr doooom] 43 gay people that that when beef breaks out are equal as 4

A Day in the Strife, Part Three

Mon, 07 Mar 2005 09:48:10 GMT

The problem was; this was all taking a horrible toll on me mentally. I didn’t see it at the time, but I was sliding down a quick & steep slope of depression. As I said, we would get into arguments all the time, & for the most part, it was simply because he liked to get me mad. It got so bad that for a long time, I had this feeling of suppressed rage following me, & it was so constant I didn’t notice it until it was gone. Fortunately, I never acted on it. Sometimes I would sit in my room & wish I could tear something to shreds, but I never took my feelings out on any undeserving innocents. Brian also had a very bad habit of pointing out the fault in everything I did, from driving to writing to asking women out. In fact, that is one of the reasons I didn’t date anyone until at least 2 years after I stopped hanging out with him. My school studies also faltered, & it took me nearly 5 years to go back to college to fix that. My self-esteem was completely shot, something I still haven’t completely recovered from. The only things I ever got any word of praise from was something I did for him, though if I slacked in my duties at all, I’d hear about it for months afterwards.

One day, while hanging out with a group of friends completely separate from Brian, I mentioned that there had been a lot of garbage going on lately, & that I was looking for a way to spend at least 24 hours away from Brian. I was starting to suffocate, & I saw Brian as being a small part of it, which was a massively poor assessment on my part. The friend told me that when people try to drag him into drama, he just disappears for a week. He would stay home, leave the house only when he needed to, not answer the phone if it rang, and effectively vanish. I thought that sounded like a good idea, so I tried it. I went one day without seeing anyone, & then gave up on that, though I still avoided Brian’s company. In less then a week, I suddenly felt better then I had literally in years. It was like I was Atlas, holding up the Earth, & Heracles came by to shoulder the burden for me. I suddenly realized that Brian was the source of all my anger, sadness, & self-doubt. I cut myself off from him, & never looked back.

I wish I could say the story ends there. It seems he took offense to cutting myself from his life without his permission. For a year, he tormented me in small & childish ways, while at the same time practically begging me to come back. One day, I would step outside to see someone had affixed a tow notice sticker to my passenger window. The next day, I would get an e-mail telling me that he wanted to form a band with me. He would entreat mutual friends to try & get me to hang out with him, while at the same time stretching duct-tape across my windshield (my car seemed to be the medium between his terrorism & me). This lasted for a while, until his other friends started wising up, & seeing there was more then a kernel of truth in what I was telling them, they ostracized him, as well. His revenge for that was to get me thrown in jail.

Well, it wasn’t really jail, but it was close enough. A friend of mine was trying to gather evidence that a certain woman was cheating on his best friend with Brian. It should also be noted that she was underage (she was 14, he was 20). Coincidentally, she was a neighbor of mine, so one day, as I drove my friend home, he asked if I could stop by her house real quick, for his car was outside. I did as he asked, parking a house or two up, & sat in my car as he went around back with a disposable camera. About five minutes later, he came back looking smug, & asked me to take him home. I didn’t notice the camera, but I assumed it was in the pocket he had taken it from. Besides, it was about eleven at night, so he could have been holding it & I just didn’t notice.

I took him home, & then went back to my house, passing the girl’s house in the process. As I drove by, I saw two squad cars parked outside, & as I passed the house, saw Brian outside talking to the cops. I didn’t think anything of it until one of them pulled me over & arrested me as an accessory to battery. The next thing I know I’m sitting on a bench in Elmwood Park lock-up, barefoot in case I attempt to kill myself. Brian hadn’t formally pressed charges on me, but I was considered an accomplice, & they couldn’t find my friend, who apparently had disappeared. I stayed in lock-up until morning, which was when Brian finally came to the police station & admitted I had nothing to do with whatever happened.

I found out from my friend later that he had gone around back, saw Brian & the girl kissing, & snapped a photo. The flash caught Brian’s attention, & he punched the camera, which was still against my friend’s face. The camera broke, & the two of them scuffled, Brian eventually running into the house swearing he was going to press charges. My friend figured he was blowing smoke, & as it turns out, just after I dropped him off, another friend showed up & took him down to Denny’s, which is where he was while I was sitting in a cold cell with no shoes. I was mad at first, but none of my plight was directly his fault, so I never held a grudge.

As a final note, my friend had to go to court over the charges pressed against him. Brian didn’t show, so the case was thrown out. As soon as my friend got home from the court hearing, he got a call from Brian, who wanted to know if my friend wanted to go work out. My friend promptly told Brian what he could do with the workout equipment, & hung up. My story ends about there, because that is the last I heard from Brian except through third parties. In my own way, I’ve forgiven Brian for everything that happened, but if I ever see him again, it’ll be far too soon.

Thus concludes my exhortation on Brian Lambrecht. Oh, & for those of you who know him, it was Randy who gave me the advice that led to my breaking off with Brian.

A Day in the Strife, Part Two

Fri, 04 Mar 2005 06:31:00 GMT

Through High School, & a few years beyond, the two of us were mostly inseparable. People would make jokes about us being attached at the hip, & other less flattering comments which would sometimes question our sexuality. But that was mostly because we were largely unpopular, but partly because Brian was very actively disliked by most of the student body. Looking back, I have no idea if the mental instability that would emerge in various frightening fashions was present then, & hiding, or if it was always there & I was too blind to see. I attributed the home-mended glasses as a way for him to seek attention, for though he would be dismissive about them when questioned, I could tell he was drinking in the notice.

Sadly, this affectation turned into an idiosyncrasy that people eventually found not worth bringing up. So, he began cutting himself. He would walk around with a number of obviously self-inflicted wounds on his arms, but he was careful not to show that he wanted others to see them. On the other hand, I have eczema (a dry skin condition), & it was particularly bad then, so my arms were covered with scabs as well, effectively camouflaging his wounds. So, to make it plainly obvious what he was doing, he began carving things like band names into his arms. Looking back, I can see that even then, though I stood by his side, I was still more against him then for him. Whenever I heard people bring up the cuts on his arms, I’d tell them that they’re only so he can get attention, which people were quick to accept, & the pity turned to disgust.

Masochism was not the only outlet for his instability. He also had periods of sadism, which I was always very quick to stop when I was around. And at the time, I was always around. He had been friends with Antonio before I met him, & since I was friends with Antonio, Brian & Antonio would run into each other often. Antonio didn’t care, but Brian would get furious. For a long time, Brian merely hated Antonio (I never found out if there was a rational reason for this hatred, either). But the last straw occurred when they both by chance joined the same local band, & Brian had to see Antonio on an almost daily basis. I don’t know when it occurred, but Brian at one point developed nothing short of an obsession with Antonio. He began seeing Antonio’s hand in every wrong inflicted upon him, no matter how improbable it was Antonio was involved. He would delight in any slight taken against Antonio. I remember one time when he burst out into laughter when someone commented on the fact that Antonio still wore ripped jeans in the 90s. It got to the point where he honestly wanted Antonio dead, & I know that my presence may be the only thing that prevented Brian from causing Antonio harm.

Not that he was at all careful around me. The only way I was able to stop him from badly hurting Antonio was by physically restraining him. He wasn’t stupid enough to attack me in response, but he wasn’t very subtle about his private thoughts, either. He got so bad that he would tell people things that most wouldn’t be dumb enough to mention in their diaries. On at least one occasion, he told me flat out that he didn’t think of his friends as friends. He thought of them more as business associates, each one a pawn with some useful skill he could exploit. He would also go on at length about his skills at manipulation, as he put it. He wouldn’t say he was very convincing, or charismatic. He would tell myself & others that he was great at manipulating everyone. The sad part is he was right, at least until I showed people his true colors.

A Day in the Strife, Part One

Tue, 01 Mar 2005 08:56:55 GMT

In one of my classes this semester, we were assigned a topic for an essay; "Remembering a Person." The second I heard that, I knew exactly who I wanted to write about. This is someone most of you out there know, & I found the essay very theraputic for exorcizing a personal demon. I thought I'd share my essay with you all, but since it's five pages long, I decided to break it into parts. Here is the first part, outlining my first few years with Mr. Brian Lambrecht, back when I considered him one of my best friends.

I first met Brian when I began attending Elmwood Park High School in 1995, my sophomore year. He wasn’t the first friend I made at EPHS, that was someone else, Antonio. I mention Antonio here because he was indirectly a large part of Brian’s life later on. Being a new guy in a small town where people have all known their friends for their whole lives, I had trouble shoehorning my way in. I spent almost all my time alone, especially since my younger sister had very recently been diagnosed with leukemia. My mom spent her free time at the hospital with my sister, whom I’m glad to say has been in remission for 10 years. My father worked the graveyard shift, leaving me a lone latch-key kid in a strange house.

One day, on my way back from a nearby Burger King in the dead of winter (I contrived any excuse I could to be out of the house as much as I could), I ran into Brian walking with a friend of his. I didn’t really know either of them, but seeing a pair of guys my age walking nearby, I hurried to join up & try & hang out with them. They allowed me to tag along, & we went to the music store they had been heading to when I met them. This was fortunate, as I spotted a CD I had wanted to purchase for a while now, & as it turned out, Brian was a fan of “Weird Al” Yankovic, too. We spent much of the day discussing some of his better parodies, & became friends from that point on.

Even though this was 10 years ago, he looked almost exactly the same then as he does now. He had greasy, unruly, wavy brown hair that he was always fidgeting with, in vain attempts to straighten it, or to keep the part. When left unattended, his hair would mold into a sort of curly flat-top, which would anger him to no end. For no real reason, he disdained jeans for a long time. He would always be found in baggy black sweat pants, until one day a girl told him he would look good in jeans, to which he promptly switched with equal zest. He wore glasses which always seemed to be in need of mending, which he would repair in the most noticeable way possible. I can remember a period when he had a pencil tied on with an excessive amount of twine in place of one of the arms.

The most distinguishing part of his attire, however, was an ugly old coat which he always wore. It was a pea green Army Surplus flak jacket that was a hand-me-down from one of his brothers, one so old I have to wonder if it saw action in Korea. I remember he would get irrationally angry (the man was nothing if not a tempest of emotion) at the thought of throwing it away, & he had to get it stitched up so often that he probably could have bought two new coats with the money spent on repairs. I know he still wears it to this day, because he had it on when I ran into him by unhappy chance a couple months ago.

His afore-mentioned hand motions should be noted. His hands had a frenzy of motion about them, which went beyond the stereotypes of his half-Italian background & ventured into the realm of a villain in a silver screen horror movie, perhaps portrayed by Bela Lugosi. He would rub his hands together like a praying mantis when considering something; benign or devious. Often when he was discussing something he was passionate about (usually his passionate hatred of someone or something), he would stretch his arms out & shake them vigorously, as if he was mentally strangling the source of his angst. When succumbing to these fugues, his face would spasm in a complicated rhythm of tics, & his mouth would stretch into a maniacal grin. In our pre-adolescent foolishness, his nervous twitches were the source of many jokes among our soon-to-be circle of friends, though now I see they were a projection of the chaos inside him. Had I realized this sooner, I might have bowed out of his life much earlier, & possibly saved myself a great deal of misery. Though for a couple reasons, I’m rather glad I didn’t.

Coming up next in the wide world of CheeseDog; A Day in the Strife, Part Two, outlining when things started really getting bad.

Comin in from the Hi-Fi, you better watch the Lo-Fi

Thu, 27 Jan 2005 00:26:21 GMT

I don't know how many people this will reach. Lord knows my self-imposed hiatus from LJ has probably caused most people to not even glance in my direction. However, as a pariah by choice speaking to social pariahs of the world at large (no doubt again, by choice), I hope some happen to see I've posted anew & come to see what's roused me from torpor.

I have no idea what I'm going to say here. I've planned this post as well as I plan any of my LJ posts, which is to say "not at all." But I can tell something in me wants to say something, & I figured this is as good a way as any to get it said. And I hope someone hears it. Not understand, not take to heart, & I hope to God I don't change anyone's life here, but just let the words flow from your eyes to the grey matter, & flow around in the soup for a while.

I said something like two posts back that I left LJ to reflect. That's true, & in the interim I've performed at least one act of self-improvement. But I now see there was another reason, a reason some may see as cowardly, or conceited, & maybe it is, but in the end, it's just me. I smelled something in the air, saw the handwriting on the walls, & 14 other clever cliches. It all comes down to, I knew drama was a-brewing. And so knowing, I bowed out.

I didn't realize it until now that I was doing that. But I figure a part of me must have known, because I wasn't surprised by what I read today in various LJ posts. What really brings an eerie counterpoint to it, was that on some LJs, I saw comments & feelings on what just happened, but on others, it was business as usual. I'm not advocating one side or the other, simply saying that when viewed together, it draws a very sharp contrast.

I didn't get involved for two reasons. One, it didn't involve me. Anyone who knows me, knows that 98% of the time, I don't voice my opinion unless asked for it. The 2% I do is situations where I feel permission is assumed. And I see no point in getting bogged down in finger pointing, teeth baring, chest beating or any of that nonsense. Like Charlie the Choo-Choo said, "Don't ask me silly questions/I won't play silly games." I just don't see any point in getting all worked up & stressed out over something I'm not directly a part of.

Also, like anything else I refer to as "drama," I thought this whole situation is just way over the top. People are just getting all fired up about this (& not necessarily emotionally. There are other ways to start boiling over), & I'm watching friends say "fuck you for good!" over what amounts to little more then words. I guess sticks & stones don't hold the monopoly on broken bones.

I'm not gonna tell anyone how to run their lives, even a portion of it. I am neither stupid enough nor interested in futile pursuits enough to think that I can step into the middle of a group of people like us, who have titanic personalities & equally titanic opinions, yell "cease fire," & expect it to work. Nor will I be surprised if I get a little grief for this post. But I do want to point out what's going on here, so that even when you do go ahead & do it anyway, at least now you know in the back of your head what you're doing.

And I don't understand this "tactical retreat" I'm seeing from some people. And I don't mean that in the way some of you might think I do. I'm talking about the rounds of "Hey, I supported you, & I still support you, you're right, but I'm right, but I'm wrong, FUCK YOU!" that I'm seeing in these LJ comment sections. I'm not even going to get into the self-back-patting I'm seeing from others. My greatest fear is that those saying these things are actually believing the nonsense pouring from their fingertips. But I think it's more likely that those in question are merely throwing wild grenades to cover their tracks as they backpedal away. And here I will give some advice. "Don't." Fucking say what you mean. And if you think you do mean bizarre statements that amount to "I was always with you, you fucking asshole," then do some serious thinking.

Hound Out.

Politics & those pointy Gothic buildings with all the lower-case Ts on the top

Tue, 21 Dec 2004 10:58:08 GMT

As I had this conversation, I thought to myself that it was a shame it would only be seen by myself & the guy I was talking to. I decided to give it a bit wider circulation.

J0hNNy XmaS: the Christian Bitches Against Fun released their annual list of horribly violent video games recently
J0hNNy XmaS: and of course, they only listed mainstream titles, and overlooked any of the games liek Postal 2, which were made soley to be violent
CheeseDogX: Do you mean the Christian Coaltion, or is that an actual group?
J0hNNy XmaS: ha
J0hNNy XmaS: no, i dont remember the group
J0hNNy XmaS: hang on
J0hNNy XmaS: apparently it was a banding together of 5 groups
J0hNNy XmaS: its the Ten Super Evil Games list,
J0hNNy XmaS: "The thing I don't understand about that "Ten Super Evil Games" list that's going around - outside of the obvious, of course - is the glaring omissions any modicum of research would have revealed. There is no mention, even in passing, of "The Sodomizer" for the PS2. And yet again, parents' groups have overlooked the Wifebeater series, neglecting to mention Wifebeater III altogether. Also absent with no purpose or explanation are Violencing and Kill For No Reason."
J0hNNy XmaS: and a fun comic http://www.penny-arcade.com/view.php3?date=2004-12-01&res=l
CheeseDogX: Those uptight Christian bitches are freaking pathetic. They absolutely hated that movie "Saved." They can't even pull their heads out their own assholes long enough to see humor in themselves.
CheeseDogX: Fucking fanatics.
J0hNNy XmaS: It wouldnt bother me except for that fact that they are gaining an ever-stronger stranglehold on lobbyists.
CheeseDogX: Yeah, that's what happens when the Republicans get the majority.
J0hNNy XmaS: Honest to God, there's a bill out there trying to outlaw birth control.
J0hNNy XmaS: And they think that's going to lower the number of teenage pregnancies.
J0hNNy XmaS: The logic eludes me at the moment.
CheeseDogX: Separation of Church & that thing that has nothing to do with government, I believe it's called.
J0hNNy XmaS: Yeah, I think they scratched that off the first time George W mentioned God in a public speech
J0hNNy XmaS: I wanted to stab somebody.
CheeseDogX: And he didn't immediately follow the word with "dammit."
CheeseDogX: That would have made for an interesting speech.
J0hNNy XmaS: He talks about how these crazy desert people are claiming that this is a Holy War, but it's not, and then he says that God will help us win.
J0hNNy XmaS: We're fighting a Holy War, and nobody knows it but him.
J0hNNy XmaS: god dammit.
CheeseDogX: Well, it's only a Holy War if you're on the Righteous Side.
J0hNNy XmaS: oh
J0hNNy XmaS: Bill and Ted were righteous
J0hNNy XmaS: and good presidents to boot
CheeseDogX: Somehow, I saw that coming.

The time has come, the Walrus said, To talk of many things...

Wed, 15 Dec 2004 10:48:28 GMT

I know my absence from this forum has not gone unnoticed. People have said to me that they've noticed I haven't posted in weeks (I'm not actually sure how long it's been). I figured I should explain why I haven't posted in a while, mostly because I just realized why recently.

My life often works that way. I'm a very intuitive person. I proceed in a certain fashion without being aware I'm doing it until I'm far along the path. Usually realizing I'm doing something is quickly followed by realizing why I'm doing it. Sometimes the two occur simultaneously. When I first began writing in LiveJournal, I didn't know what I was gonna use it for. I knew I wasn't gonna sit down & do a "Well, today at work this guy called me an asshole & it made me SOOO mad!" that's just not me. But I began in earnest, posting things I had written in the past & never had anywhere to put it. From there I moved on to what my LiveJournal for the most part became: a self-exploration.

I had (& have) several questions that I felt needed answers. The main ones being "Who am I?" "What do I want" & "Where am I going?" Obviously I meant these questions to be metaphysical, not literal. Otherwise, that answers are simple. I am CheeseDog, I want chicken, & I'm going to the store to buy some chicken for dinner.

Metaphysical questions are never easy. Doubly so because most of the time, the answers cannot be expressed in words. I know -& have known for a while- who I am, what I want, & where I'm going. And according to journalism, the 6 most important questions are who, what, where, when, how, & why. I pegged the first three, & the last is astonishingly simple (Why? Because). When & how, I didn't have answers for. But I realized a long time ago that in the temporal Universe, how & when usually attend to themselves.

I still had questions though, & they were very metaphysical quesions, meaning I can't put them into words. So I sought answers. Answers about myself. And also, to refine my answers to who I am, what I want, & where I'm going. I realized the best way to figure that out was to look at the past. Who I was, what I wanted, where I was going.

To my pleasure, I discovered something wonderful. Outwardly, I am very different. I am not the same person I was four years ago (& that's not a random date). Hell, I'm rather a different person then I was last winter. But on the inside, in the most fundamental respect, I am still the same man I was in years gone by. I've refined myself, removed the wheat from the chaff, so to speak, matured.

I see people as sculptures. I beleive it was Michaelangelo who once said that he didn't make sculptures, the sculpture was always in the block of stone, he jsut removed the unnecessary parts. It is also said that art is never finished, only abandoned. I think those two maxims illustrate my analogy. A person is born, with certain potentials. As a person realizes, explores, & develops these potentials, the stone block chips away, the needless parts removed, & the true shape starts to become apparent. Of course, this is an endless quest, as perfection almost certainly can never be contained. The sculpture may become more & more refined as it is made, but it is never finished. At one point; through death, apathy, or new opportunities never before considered, the sculpture lies, not complete but abandoned.

And I feel this Journal has done much to help me chip away at my own personal sculpture. And now we come to the original topic; why I haven't posted in a long time. I feel that the moment of self-exploration is passed for the time being, & now is the time for self-reflection. I have to meditate on what I've discovered about myself. I don't know what will happen when my ruminations are complete, or even when that will be. I don't even know if I'll continue to post while I'm thinking it over. But I do hope I will stop ignoring my freidn's LiveJournals. Catch all of you on the back-end.

Sat, 20 Nov 2004 09:51:25 GMT

"I was waiting for something/Maybe flying machines
That's when I found Lily/the best I'd ever seen
Put her on the ceiling/Tried to make her my own
People line up to see/But there never seems
To be enough space."
-Foo Fighters, Enough Space

"Today's your chance, to sin
Ah-ha-ha, there's the rub
And, what, of the limitless sex & violence
In the wake, of Ragnarok?"
-Gwar, Rag Na Rok*

Change is in the wind. I've been feeling it for some time now. Look at the very first line in this post, & the wise words of David Grohl etch out my current feelings on...well, everything. I feel (& have been feeling) a paradigm shift in the air since I don't even know when.

To clarify for those who are not familiar with the term, I will briefly describe a paradigm shift. It's been a bit of a "pop" term among scientists for decades, but not many outside of the scientific community give a wet slap about scientific terms. To my memory, the last major paradigm shift to occur happened between the Renaissance & the time of a gentleman named Sir Isaac Newton. Up until then, the word of the church was, simply, gospel. Shit happens as per God's will. You get sick due to God being angry at you, for instance. It was centuries before a man named Louis Pasteur was brave enough to say "Sickness isn't caused by God, but by microscopic organisms I call germs."

Since society (& therefore, societal changes) are more complex then a single individual, major changes in the way the world as a whole is viewed (a very simplistic definition of a paradigm) are more complex then a single person going "Holy Shit, this is how it is!" The day the fictional apple fell on the very real head of Sir Isaac Newton was one step in restructuring our view of reality. Galileo discovering that the Geocentric Universe was a falsity was another. The rebirth of thought, & the downfall of the church, as well as the far-later-ocurring Bohemian Revolution were merely stepping stones in our venture towards the paradigm we live in, the so-called "Age of Reason."

For most of my life, I felt that I had been born too early. Then I began reading more, & came to the conclusion that even if I was born 30 years before I should have been, I'm more than glad to be where I am. I cannot help but feel we are on the verge of a new paradigm shift. I have read a few scientific manuals on the current state of science (Gary Zukav's "The Dancing Wu-Li Masters," & Steven Hawkings "A Brief History of Time" to name two), & to be perfectly honest, what I read in those books scared the living hell out of me. Afterwards, I not only read other books on different topics, but thought back on books I had read previous to this, & made a startling realization. We are on the forefront of a new paradigm. What it is, I cannot say. To paraphrase Ian Malcolm in "Jurassic Park," you cannot know what the new paradigm will be until it's occured. But I have theories. Having read books on both Quantum Mechanics & Zen Buddhism, I cannot help but feel that our new paradigm, whatever it is, will be a melding of Science & Spiritualism. I first thought that when it was pointed out to me that Quantum Mechanics reads a lot like Eastern Philospophy. It was further illustrated to me reading a book by the Tibetan Lama Tuesday Lobsang Rampa, seeing him describe one Zen Master's interpretation of atomic theory (granted, it was based on the now-obsolete Bohr model, but still).

I remarked to someone I used to be friends with years ago that I couldn't help but feel I was at a crossroads. In my previous trilogy of posts, I described the outcome of that crossroads. Now, just as strongly as I felt back then, I feel I'm waiting. Waiting for what, I cannot honestly say. Despite that, I can't help but feel that something is going to happen to me. What it is, I can't say. I can't even say what it was that brought me to this conclusion, only that I know with every fiber in my being, that I'm right. Standing on this side of my own personal paradigm, I have no idea what the other side will be like. I don't even know what will be the vehicle that catapults me to whatever my next step is. All I can say is I look forward to it with nothing but optimism.

Don't take this as a signal for apathy, however. Don't take waiting for a change to wash over you as the same thing as sitting on your duff expecting the world to be handed over to you. To paraphrase an ancient Chinese proverb, "He who waits for a chicken dumpling to fly into his mouth must wait a very long time." I'm continuing with my life as though everything's the same, though waiting for the big thing when it happens. I can only hope I'm ready for it when it comes.

*The word Ragnarok is also rather appropriate to the topic at hand. Ragnarok was the Nordic Armageddon, the final battle of the gods at the end of the world (as we know it). Ragnarok translates as "fate of the gods," which the Germans mistranslated as Götterdämmerung, meaning "Twilight of the gods," which is an eminently appropriate definition for a paradigm shift.

The Day I Lived

Fri, 22 Oct 2004 08:22:35 GMT

There are, basically, two ways writers utilize characters in stories. The first variety will start off with "This is Joe. His mother & father died when he was 7. He was raised by an uncle who taught him hard life lessons. When he was 18, his parent's estate was handed over to him. He used the money to go to college, where he Majored in Business Administration. He is now a 35-year-old executive at 3M."

The second camp are what's known as "character writers," which is the style I personally prefer. They will begin the story with "Joe sat at his desk & sighed." As you progress through the story, you will find out about his dead parents, his classes in the School of Hard Knocks, etc. In essence, they tell you about Joe backwards.

It is in that vein I wrote a trilogy of LJ posts, with this being the 3rd & last. In the 1st one, I described a revelation I had regarding my goals of intimacy. I was purposely vague in the post, feeling there was no need to state exactly what I was getting at. The responses I got were proof enough that the people reading the post knew what I was talking about.

In the second part, which was yesterday's post, I turned back the clock & went over a personal experience that occurred before the truth was apparent to me. The comment I got in particular from Aria showed me that I wasn't the only one upset about the mistakes I made in that time. It was also what I'd call a wasted experience, because of a personal adage of mine, "The only wasted experience is one you don't learn anything from." Truth be told, I'm not happy with that post. But I felt I had to write it, so that the chain of events could become clear when one looks over it all. I was also feeling a bit narcissistic at the time, a trait I abhor. The first post set the stage, the second post introduced the players, & now I think it's time to set the theater on fire.

Back when I was 20 & working at ADT (at the time called Securitylink from Ameritech), I was scared to death of women, in the sense that they represented by greatest fear of the time, rejection. As well as simple paranoia. I had never been on a date, though not for lack of trying (though admittedly with either the wrong woman or with a horrible execution with what may also have been the wrong woman. But I digress). I refused to realize that I was afraid of women, preferring to think I was a hapless martyr, living in a perpetual God smack. That cozy lie may be the reason I so loathe self-imposed martyrs to this day.

At the time, the nightly after-work ritual was to go to Denny's for several hours & hang out. Several groups came & went during this year-long period, mostly friends of Duda or Duda's brothers, occasionally co-workers. This was a particularly vulnerable stage in my simultaneous fear & obsession with the female counterpart. I was in an emotional state most of the time that I can barely fathom now (it, & other catalysts, eventually led to me taking anti-depressants for about 2 years). As if in answer to some unstated plea, woman I'll call Em came out of the woodwork. I have no idea where she came from. The day I met her, she sat with a few of us to chat. I don't remember any of what we discussed, except at some point I made some reference to Our Lord, to which she responded "There is no God." In any other point in my life, I probably would have either let it slide, or gotten into a theological discussion. In this case, I was so fed up with everything in general that I silently got up & left Denny's, staring daggers at her as I exited.

A week or two later, I was again up at Denny's, & so was Em. She was drunk, which put me off even more, as I was astringently anti-alcohol at the time (O, how the Mighty have fallen). I was satisfied to pretend she didn't exist until she loudly stated "I have to go apologize to CheeseDog." She then proceeded to sit on my lap & quite drunkenly assert her avid sorrow for having upset me. I non-commitally (n/a word) forgave her, hoping she'd go away. Thinking about it now, I have no idea how I got from that point to the end of the night, when I brought her home with me. I can only attribute it to the same act of desperation that led me to the events of two years later, which I've already talked about. The only difference was, in this case, her was a woman I wasn't attracted to who was literally throwing herself at me.

That's probably not a fair assessment. There were things about her I found attractive. For instance, I thought it was cute the way she would purse her mouth when I said something that irked her. And to be perfectly honest, I was drunk off the fact that a woman had finally come up to me & said "Hey, I think you're cute. Lets go do something about it." A horrible basis for any sort of meaningful relationship, but at the time, I was also lying to myself about wanting a meaningful relationship.

Let me pause for a moment to give you an idea the type of woman Em was, so you can see the grand depth of my fortunate mistake. She had a number of tattoos, one of which was a tribal pattern under a squashed cherry on the right side of her neck. I asked her about it, & she told me it was because she had a reputation among her friends as a "cherry popper." Ladies & gentlemen, if that's not class, I don't know what is. She also had been pregnant five times. Three miscarried, one had necessitated a C-section & adoption, the last a different type of incision in a lower region. I saw the scars myself. She kept the last child, by the way. Come to think of it, I'm not even sure she knew my real name.

Em had told me numerous times that she was not going to have sex with me ("My cherry-popping days are over," she said at one point). I'm not sure if I was fine with that or not. Looking back at it, I have to wonder if she was serious about that, or if she wanted me to feel like I was the one doing the pursuing. She sure as hell wasn't coming back to my house with the intention of discussing fine literature.

Em's intended goal, as she told me, was to teach me how to give & receive pleasure with a woman. She wasn't that eloquent about it, but whatever. I did learn a few things in that regard (like that she's a terrible kisser), but that was not what stuck with me. I could have figured out that shit on my own, without the mentor of perversion.

I learned some very important things about myself that night, & the consequent nights (she stayed at over a good half-dozen times in the 3 weeks I associated with her). We went from simple cuddling the first night to getting frighteningly near to "all the way" by the end. To her credit, every step taken was fully my decision. She put up resistance, whether token or not, each time. It was also me who stopped.

I'm sure most people know about the 4 bases. A few people have the order differently, but the basic concept is the same. I was in the middle of rounding third base when she grabbed my hand & said "Here, let me show you the right way to do it." At that moment, the true CheeseDog came back from whatever hiatus he was on, cracked me hard in the back of the head, & yelled "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" It was one of those moments that can't be put into words, where the scales fall from your eyes & leave you momentarily retarded. Once I composed myself, I told Em in no uncertain terms that I wanted to stop. I broke ties with her soon after.

The scary thing was that the man I was before that moment & the man I was after that moment are total strangers. Everything for me subtly altered. As epiphanies go, it was the strangest of settings, lying in bed with my hand down a woman's pants. I tell people I'm not the same man I was 4 years ago (Hell, I'm not the same man I was 6 months ago), & that's the trigger event.

What really kills me is apparently Em couldn't let go. I was simultaneously gratified & horrified that I had left such an impression on the vaunted "cherry-popper" that she kept coming back, still trying to get a piece of CheeseDog. I can still remember with crystal clarity this one night that illustrates for me just how I changed in the time it takes to draw breath.

This was six weeks later at most, a month or so before my 21st birthday. I had finally gotten off my duff & started dating a truly wonderful woman. I still had a lot to learn in the area of self-reliance & self-esteem (I still do, in some respects), but I at least knew who I was & what I wanted. I was sitting in more or less the exact spot I'm in now, talking to the object of my affections on-line, when the doorbell rang. It was about 1 am, so I was wondering who could be calling at this hour. At the door was no less then Em, plus one. She had brought a chick with her, apparently hoping I had no qualms with graduating straight from virginity to a threesome. For some inexplicable reason, I invited her downstairs, all the while trying to figure out how to get rid of her. As it turns out, she provided the doorway.

I was back at my computer conversing with the girl I was dating. Em asked me who I was talking to. "My girlfriend," I responded. A fallacy, we weren't official, but I was feeling savage & wanted to hammer the point home. She immediately stood up & asked me to step into my room so we could talk. The entire time, the girl (who's name I never got) was staring at me with these goggly fish-eyes. Hoping for a quick end to this, I retired to my room & closed the door.

Em immediately rounded on me. "You weren't supposed to have a girlfriend yet," were her exact words. Putting on my most patronizing smile, I said "I'm sorry, did I ruin your plans for tonight?" Callous, but I wasn't in a mood to mince words & seeing Em again was exactly what I didn't need at the moment (word had somehow gotten around, & the girl I was seeing had asked me not two days earlier who Em was). Once she picked her jaw off the floor, I asked her if she would mind leaving. She responded by pining me to my bed & planting a kiss on me. I pushed her off & again asked her to leave. Realizing she wasn't going to get anywhere, she acquiesced & left so quickly she practically Disapparated. I shrugged off the event & went back to my on-line conversation.

In my ever-present need to be honest, I told her about my encounter with Em a few days later. She found it amusing.

A Hard Day's Night

Thu, 21 Oct 2004 14:39:20 GMT

I haven't posted in LJ for a good couple weeks. I haven't really had anything I felt like posting. Well, that's not true, but I've been having second thoughts about something I was going to post. Maybe I will later, it would probably make a good part two to this post here.

I was lying in bed thinking (it's funny how many of these posts start that way) about an adage I had jsut ascribed to my bedroom. It went thusly: With the exception of storing your stuff, bedrooms are only good for two things: sleeping & fucking. And considering the second option has not yet been made available to me, my bedroom only serves the former purpose for me.

From there, I tried to think back to the last time a woman had shared my bed with me (comments regarding my virginity can be rolled up tight & crammed up your ass). It brought me back to the days of my apartment. I remembered Jenny sitting on my bed while I sat in the very chair I'm in now, the two of us chatting. She had been tactless enough to crack that she was probably the first woman to ever be on my bed. Fortunately, she was also tactful enough to apologize instantly. I guess she has a similar problem that I do: words tend to spill from my mouth before my brain can censor them.

After tossing off some pithy comment I can't remember, I thought back to an instance I had deleted from my mind until that moment. In fact, I had done so again until now, when the memory came winding back in a most unrelenting fashion. It must have been about a year previous, for it was when I was living in the second bedroom of my apartment, back when Bernie was still living with Xmas & myself. I know for a fact it was then, because Bernie was the catalyst to the entire evening.

I can't remember where Xmas was for all of this, but he wasn't around. He was probably in bed asleep for the whole thing. Bernie had come home that night with two strange women. Well, I can't guarantee they were strange to him, but I know I had never seen them before. This was nothing new to me; the man has some strange animal attraction that belies his physical appearance. He had a new woman over once a week on average, & they always came by only once. The only two exceptions to that rule was when he brought over his sister, & when his girlfriend (yes, he was dating someone during all these one-night-stands) Shanna came by. Shanna, by the way, was also my roommate for a short stint after we had rid ourselves of Bernie. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

The fact that he brought two women should have immediately set off an alarm in my head. In hindsight ::takes a drag off a cigarette & states that it is always 20/20:: I should have realized what was going on. I had nothing going on that night, & as I recall, I was already rather drunk by the time they showed up, so I hung out with them. The four of us stood around in the kitchen, drinking & mingling, until one of the girls (the one Bernie wasn't hanging all over) noticed my Harry Potter display. We discussed J.K. Rowling until she noticed my Anime collection, at which point we began a discussion about Dragonball Z. I can't say if I was purposely being flirtatious or not. I've come to realize recently that I'm often not consciously aware that I'm flirting with someone. Though I'm sure some of my friends would say I'm lying about that.

About the point she started telling me about the Indie Wrestling Federation she was part of, it started to dawn on me what was happening. Wherever Bernie had been that night, he had picked up a chick. He had asked her to come home with him, to which she responded that she couldn't leave her friend in the lurch. Bernie cooly assured her that he had a single roommate at home. To wit, I was Bernie's unknowning wingman.

We soon retired to Bernie's room for some reason. The four of us (I'm not using the girl's names simply because I don't remember them) goofed off in there for a while, all quite drunk. I recall a pillowfight on Bernie's bed, though I don't remember the participants. For all I know, it was the two chicks & myself while Bernie filmed everything on his webcam to e-mail to my parents. Let me state right now, because I realize I neglected to up until now; I did not find this girl attractive. I enjoyed talking with her for the singular fact that I like talking to people. I was however, both rather drunk & unaware of the revelation I previously discussed here, both of which had caused my standards to slip like a wet trout in cold hands.

At some point in the late night or early morning, depending on your reckoning of time, Bernie had hinted to me rather strongly that he & the girl he had bagged for the night wanted to be left alone so they could "go to bed." By this point the chick I had had been elected to chaperone was passed out on the floor of Bernie's room, so it was left to me to decide her fate. I roused her & ushered her out of the room, making sure Bernie didn't clip my ass as he shut the door behind us. She had somewhere discovered an afghan that he had wrapped all over herself, making her look uncomfortably like a quilted leper. Despite my better judgement, I led her into my room.

Let me say now I had no intention of sleeping with her. I may have been drunk & desperate, but I had still managed to hold onto some of my principles. That did not preclude trying to get to at least first base with her, despite my still not finding her attractive. I must have been more drunk then I realized, for I didn't have the mental capacity to realize that if she had passed out on Bernie's floor, that was exactly what she'd do the second she was horizontal again. Which is a round-about way of saying she promptly began snoozing as soon as she hit my bed. Right smack in the middle of my bed.

I spent a futile half-hour trying to push her over to a side so I'd have enough room to lay down. Any time I did, she immediately rolled back into the middle of the bed. I sure as hell wasn't about to sleep on the couch in my own apartment, so I decided to curl up into a corner & pray I didn't fall off while sleeping. That's when the snoring began. I would never have thought before that moment that someone could snore while in an alcohol-induced coma. Still brefusing to vacate my own bed, it was at least a firful 90-minutes (not counting the half hour before the snoring began) before I was finally asleep.

About 7 am, Bernie & the chick came into my room to get the girl's friend. I woke the second they opened my door, & I could practically feel the smiles evaporate off their faces when they saw the look on mine. Though I couldn't see my expression, I knew clearly what it said: "Get this bitch out of my bed before one of you dies by proxy." They bustled her out so quickly they didn't even bother to close my door. I thanked them by rolling into the middle of my bed & falling fast asleep.

Bernie, in some ways, is rather wise. He never bothered to ask me if I "got any" that night, nor did he tell me how lucky he got. Granted, he also knew that I wouldn't give a wet slap about his sex life in the best of moods. As Dennis Miller once put it, "There is nothing more important to me then my orgasm, & nothing less important to me then your orgasm." And that, ladies & gentlemen, is the last time a woman was in my bed with me. Sympathy cards can also be shoved up your ass.

Tune in again for the first time a woman spent the night with me (maybe).

It's not cheating if you win.

Sat, 09 Oct 2004 00:10:14 GMT

I've read some reviews, I think this is gonna be an awesome movie.

Revolutemind & his way with the ladies

Fri, 08 Oct 2004 09:49:07 GMT

Another fine Thursday Rifts night, which ends off in classic format: a nightcap at the KK. By nightcap, I mean dinner, not alcohol. Anyhoo, I enter the scene with revolutemind & lunaticxtreme, getting ready for another bull session. As I walk in the door, this girl strikes me (not physically). There was something that drew my eye to her I couldn't determine at first, I chalked it up to the fact that she was hot & giving our trio a rather significant look. She didn't seem to be looking directly at me, & I was in no mood to draw attention to myself (at least, not the kind of attention I usually draw).

We retired to our usual spot. Dragan pointed out that our spot is always open, to which Rev made some facetious comment about his celebrity status in the place. We get about that far, & I notice someone materialized before the table (as in, I didn't see said person actually walk up to the table, it was just like BAM! there). I look up to see it's none other then the chick I noticed when entering. A thought instantly enters my head, which I'll elaborate on later. She looks over to rev, & so it begins.

Chick: Hey. Do you see that girl over there? In the grey sweater? ::points to the table she was at::
Rev: ::glances in the indicated direction:: Yeah. What about her?
CheeseDog: ::attempts to look, can't see around the fucking mirrors they insist on posting all over the place, so can't describe girl::
Dragan: ::quite possibly gets a gander, you'd have to check with him::
Chick: Well... ::pussyfoots around a bit:: She'd really like to get your phone number.
Rev: ::eyebrows go up, glasses slide down nose slightly:: Really? ::slides glasses back in place:: Hound, you got a pen?
CheeseDog: ::scrounges up a pen::

You can guess where it goes from here. This only happened a few hours ago, so I can only speculate at the fruitfulness of the event. It did give us something to talk about for a couple minutes. I kept coming back to it, cuz I couldn't believe it happened. I honestly didn't think things like that happen in Real Life. The only time I ever saw it happen was me doing it to play a trick on Johnny Xmas.

Here's what really gets me about it. The moment I saw her at the table, I had this moment of clarity. I took one look at her, & this voice in my head says "She's gonna ask Paulie for his phone number on her friend's behalf." That's not actually what I heard, the actual statement was in this para-language that I subconsciously created & only use whem I'm thinking.

I get thoughts like these from time to time, that seem to not quite come from me. I call them "premonitions." Quick flashes of things I have no way of knowing, but end up happening anyway. I don't know what they are. Some people have tried to tell me it's some type of clairvoyance, but I don't know. Like ghosts, I don't know if I believe in psychic phemonena. And even if I do, I probably still wouldn't think I had any. It's equally plausible I just had a goofy thought that ended up being right. I don't know. I'm going to bed.

Good Times for all at Antonio's Un-birthday

Thu, 07 Oct 2004 10:46:27 GMT

(Amber mentions something about "The Monster Book of Monsters" from Harry Potter)

CheeseDog: What about "The Invisible Book of Invisibility?"
Amber: They didn't have it at the bookstore.
CheeseDog: How do you know?

"Alright you guys, this is bullshit. Everyone, back in the car."

Sun, 03 Oct 2004 11:38:46 GMT

This is meant to be a track-by-track analysis of the compilation I recently made based on a Rifts campaign Mr. Revolutemind has been running. So I doubt anyone not directly affiliated with the campaign would give a flying hoot about what I have to say here. Unless you're looking for a peek into my brain as far as creative ventures go, which I don't think anyone would really want to do.

Taking it from the top:

1. The Siege on Tolkeen - Symphony of Destruction (Megadeth): Outwardly, the Siege on Tolkeen is a war between two nations. Looking farther into it, it can be more accurately seen as a clash between two egotisical men: Karl Prosek & Robert Creed. Appropriate cliches that come to mind would be "giants in the sandbox" & the more colloquial "This town ain't big enough for the two of us." The stanza "You take a mortal man/And put him in control/Watch him become a god/Watch peoples heads a'roll" draws attention to the fact that though both sides claim honorable intentions, in reality, both Prosek & Creed want to totally crush the other so they can be on top when the deck is reshuffled. The sad fact is this desparate bid for power does not put the two men in danger, simply the millions of people waving either side's banner. This is evidenced in the chorus: "Just like the Pied Piper/Lead rats through the streets/We dance like marrionettes/Swaying to the Symphony of Destruction." Which makes for a truly sad tale when one thinks about it.

2. The Coalition States - Cowboys from Hell (Pantera): When it comes down to it all, the Coalition sees itself as honorable. While they never favored what could be termed a "fair fight," the war brings out their darkest side, seen in some of the despicable acts they perform to gain what usually end up being pyrrhic victories. The Coalition not only rules by fear, they spread through fear (You see us comin'/And you all together run for cover/We're takin over this town). "They say bad guys wear black" takes on an ironic tone not originally meant in the song, because the average Dead Boy scoffs at the idea of being a bad guy. Also given a new ironic twist is "Under the lights where we stand tall/Nobody touches us at all." While that certainly seemed true during the 100+ year reign of Chi-Town, the Siege on Tolkeen shows the chinks in the Dead Boy armor. No matter the outcome of the war, the Coalition will never be viewed as invincible again.

3. The Tolkeen Anthem - Return to Fantasy (Gamma Ray): The falsity of Tolkeen is in some ways more horrid then the Coalition's. The average CS citizen sees the war as a just cause, a first step in reclaiming Humanity's place on Earth. The people of Tolkeen are embarking on a similar quest. The difference is, they don't know they are. The charismatic King Creed has convinced the people of Tolkeen that they are merely defending themselves, while he secretly sits in his Ivory Tower & plots the utter destruction of the CS. His secret credo can be found in "Searching every day, looking every way/Trying to make a connection, to find a piece of the action." The Tolkeenites are laughing in the face of the CS, using their monsters & magic not only as a weapon, but to show the CS that they are capable of things the narrow-minded technocrats of Chi-Town can't even comprehend. "Moonlight night after moonlight night/Side by side they will see us ride/But if they cared to look, then they would see/It's our return to fantasy." Also flying in the face of the Powers that Be in Chi-Town & their insistance on keeping the masses ignorant, they defiantly claim "Can't you see that in every man/There's a need to fly, seldom defined?"

4. Emperor Karl Prosek - I am the Law (Anthrax): What can be said about Karl Prosek that has not already been said a million times? "A man so hard, his veins bleed ice/And when he speaks he never says it twice." Emperor Prosek is a tyrant, pure & simple. For him, the world is black & white; his very short list of allies, & everyone else. "I AM THE LAW!/And you won't fuck around no more/I AM THE LAW/I judge the rich, I judge the poor." This song works as well for Robert Creed as it does for Prosek, as he failed to heed Neitzche's warning; "Take care when fighting monsters not to become a monster oneself."

5. Charlie “Achilles” Hanson - Be Quick or Be Dead (Iron Maiden): Achilles Hanson is an engine, a machine. He slams through life with a sinlge-minded goal, whatever that may be. Like the song itself, Hanson leaves those in his wake with a harranguing migrane. If there's anything he hates, it's tin-plated tyrants, especially those he has to be put up with. Rather then get pissed, though, he merely looks them in the face & tells them "I bet you won't fall on your face/Your belly will hold you in place."

6. The Great Purple Mage - The Wizard (Bullring Brummies/Black Sabbath cover): The Great Purple Mage can be seen as a true victim of the Tolkeen conflict, because he fights for an ideal Tolkeen no longer represents. While King Creed would see every man, woman, & child in Tolkeen die to preserve his lost perception of Tolkeen, The Great Purple Mage fights for the preservation of the common man. "He turns tears into joy/Ev'ryone's happy when the wizard walks by." The paradox of Tolkeen is that it's people are trying to find a "Return to Fantasy," while at the same time having no idea they lost that fantasy long ago. They don't know they're trying to return, they think they're trying to continue. Pragmatists like The Great Purple Mage see the truth, & fight not for an ideal, but for the people.

7. Scott “Twitch” McMillan - Sweating Bullets (Megadeth): To quote Corp. Twitch's player, he ain't quite right. Aspects of the song can be taken as the Loose Cannon's general run of luck; such as "I'm in trouble for the things I haven't got to yet." Twitch takes a very defiant attitude towards anyone would take such a tone to him: "Yeah, keep on thinking it's my fault/And stay an inch or two out of kicking distance." But as Twitch would probably say, tht seemingly safe distance is still within range of your average incendiary. "Some day you too will know my pain/And smile its blacktoothed grin."

8. Vash Maxwell - Ride the Sky (Metallium/Helloween cover): Like any self-respecting fly-boy, Sgt. Maxwell has only two things he cares about: flying & his teammates. Also like any fly boy, being grounded makes him feel "Shackled and chained/almost goin' insane." He tends to be very independent, a dangerous attitude for a soldier. Instead of "Yes, sir," he'd far rather (& sometimes does) say "I have to think for myself and then act/In conformity of my own thoughts/No one should tell me what's wrong and what's right/Why don't you leave me alone?"

9. Crosstown - Back in Time (Rage): At first, this title could be seen as all wrong. Hanson's Loose Cannons were thrown forward in time at Crosstown, after Twitch touched The Mobius. The true meaning can be divined from the bridge "I wish that I could turn back time." For the world that the Loose Cannons arrived to, a scant 18 months later, was a nightmarish parody of the one they left. They completely missed the Sorcerer's Revenge, & all it's ramifications. Even more frustrating, they held in their hands a piece of information that, had it been delivered, might have stopped the Sorceror's Revenge, or at least make it less devestating. The consternation of the Loose Cannons due to opportunities lost is voiced by "The intention's here, this was how I planned to be/But reality shows the weaker part of me."

10. General Micander Drogue - Dirty, Filthy (GWAR): Gen. Drogue can see summed up with the line that comprises half this song: "Why don't you just admit it/You're a dity, rotten, son of a bitch?" 'Nuff said, in my opinion.

11. James Barca Hollis - Aces High (Iron Maiden): Sgt. Hollis' life is far more complicated then he'd like it to be. In all honestly, he just wants to fly. "Run/live to fly/fly to live/do or die." One of the complications in his life is that of Gen. Ruggles attempting to make Hollis into a lap dog. Not that the job given to him isn't appealing to him from a certain angle, he despises Pvt. Hanson. One of things Hollis really hates Hanson for is the similarities he can see in the two of them. But when it comes time to be airborne, that is all gone, & he can revel in it. "Gathering speed as we head down the runway/Got to get airborne before it's too late."

12. Valens - Damage, Inc. (Metallica): Do we still have a problem? Corp. Valens seems to believe the anthem of Hanson's Loose Cannons is "life ain't for you and we're the cure." He has a chip on his shoulder the size of a plasma ejector & he dares everyone he meets to knock it off. His own personal philosophy can only be guessed to be "Fuck it all and fucking no regrets." The answer to all his problems seems to be a trigger's push away. Thank God he's on our side.

13. Colonel Matheson - I Get Wet (Andrew W.K.): Col. Matheson is exactly the sort of tin-plated fool that really piss off people like those found in Hanson's Loose Cannons. He has all the hallmarks of a rich boy who bought his title & his position. He possesses a spit-polished, highly rehersed air that is supposed to convey respect & awe, but actually says "I really don't care/I really don't care." His attitude towards the Loose Cannons screams "You watch what you say/(Watch what I do)/I'm gonna get on you." & the Loose Cannons pray for the day they can scream back "You're making wars/You're breaking doors/And now you're on the floor/I really don't care/I really don't care."

14. Flight of the Leviathan - Brainstorm (Monster Magnet/Hawkwind cover): Any claims the Coalition once had to honorable warfare went out the window the day they first flew the Leviathan. There is nothing honorable about carpet-bombing a military installation or troop formation (let alone a peasant village) & calling it a victory. The line "paranoia's just a shattered emotion" speaks volumes about the Coalition as a whole. Gen. Drogue's attitude towards honest, stand-up fights seems to be "I bet you think I'd miss it?/You bet I'd kiss it." Kiss it right in the ass goodbye. In the meantime, avengers like Aurelor the Magnificent search for those who would aid him in his quest to destroy the CAF-1, saying simply "You gotta help me/or there'll be an explosion."

15. Hunter - Green Face (Iced Earth): If Sgt. Hunter excels in one area of S.F. training, it's the fine art of sneaking up on some unsuspecting bastard & taking them out of the equation. "A warrior down to the depths of my soul/I terrorize evil thats out of control/On land, in the air, at sea/On danger I feed." Sniper rifles, garrotte wires, the butt of a rifle, he doesn't care as long as it gets the job done. "I'll be where the metal meets the meat."

16. Shredder - Seek & Destroy (Metallica): As his name would indicate, Sgt. Shredder prefers the more savage side of the S.F. He leaves the finesse to Sgt. Hunter, so he can go toe-to-toe & let his opponent know full well that "You will pay/(Dying)/A thousand deaths." Sgt. Shredder also seems to have a touch of Fly Boy blood in his veins, as sometimes he will forgo the surgical strike so he can engage in some good old strafing. Either way, if you're in his sights, "There is no escape/and that is for sure/This is the end we won't take any more." Unless of course you happen to be a retarded Brodkil. He seems to have a soft spot for them.

17. The Free Quebec Double-Cross - Twilight of the Gods (Helloween): Though the song is possibly meant to be taken literally, in this case it must be seen metaphorically. The "old gods" in this case are Free Quebec itself, who died in a "Fireflash/In the night." The new gods are a reference to the Pre-Rifts Killer Satellite that Hanson's Loose Cannons discovered & handed over (under protest) to Coalition High Command. The Coalition seems to say "Our gods are perfection/And they are protecting our lives/We still need some more of them/To be safe from the other side/As long as we're stronger/Nothing will happen to us."

Seemed appropriate somehow

Tue, 28 Sep 2004 19:14:31 GMT

I feel like a ghost in my own life
The rumour promised to do me right now
Who's life is that on my t.v.
Well thats the way it's supposed to be

Down in the jungle you're the fucking queen
Down in the jungle you're the fucking queen
I'm telling you baby you're my only fun
They gone and left the planet to the chosen ones

Look to the bottom there ain't no soul
And I'm in love with a big black hole
But I can dig it 'cause I'm a Hound
We got the garbage as our playground

Well maybe in the future I can be your man
Well maybe if I fuck you I can hold your hand
I'm telling you baby you're my only fun
They gone and left the planet to the chosen ones

Down in the jungle you're the fucking queen
Down in the jungle you're the fucking queen
I'm telling you baby you're my only fun
They gone and left the planet to the chosen ones

Thanks, you left me dick
Now I give it back
You can kiss my ass
'Cause your out of pills
While you whine and pray
You give it all away
Now it's mine all mine
Now it's mine all mine

Down in the jungle you're the fucking queen
Down in the jungle you're the fucking queen
I'm telling you baby you're my only fun
They gone and left the planet to the chosen ones

Down in the jungle you're the fucking queen
Down in the jungle you're the fucking queen
I'm telling you baby you're the only fun
They gone and left the planet to the chosen ones
Gonna leave the planet for the chosen ones

Changes in the wind

Mon, 27 Sep 2004 09:32:06 GMT

In the end, it all boils down to me. Near as I can tell. I used to think it was pure universal force being levelled against me while someone Upstairs was having a hearty guffaw. Now I'm seeing it's actually the result of my own actions & decisions (Which is when I think the Man Upstairs truly has a good belly laugh).

There are two main categories: when I was given the chance & said no, & times when I thought I had a chance & was denied. The latter can be further broken into two subcategories: opportunities squandered, & opportunities I thought existed which apparently didn't. I used to think only the latter existed, that I had never been given the chance but said no. Realizing that there had been times when I held the Grail & put it down was something of a spiritual epiphany for me. One that made me realize that not only did I have personal choice in the matter, but I hadn't lost sight of who I was & what I really wanted in my pursual of said Grail.

Times the option was there & I declined are fairly straightforward. The situation simply didn't appeal to me. My quest is a foolish one, but not so much so that I'll fly at the first chance available. My standards cause my downfall again. But then, the quest would be moot without standards, so I can't complain too much. Quest is really a bad word for it, but the best I have currently.

Times when I lost a chance were due either to inaction, or improper action based on my zeal. I'd sit around for months, not planning my strategy, not figuring how I could get even to Step 1, but thinking how great it would be after Step 1. For some reason, I had some delusion in my head that after Step 1 was accomplished, there would be no more worries, everything would fall into place without me having to lift a finger. Despite myself, I'm a romantic at heart. I love romantic ideals like honor, even though I know my romanticism of the concept is unrealistic. My right brain longs for a return to the days when a verbal contract between gentlemen could be sealed with a handshake, & it was as good as gold. My left brain reminds the right brain that such deals where only solid between "gentlemen," & even then true gentlemen were few & far between.

But I digress. "Improper action based on zeal" should be rather self-explanitory. I either threw too much into it & watched the opportunity fade away (usually rather quickly), or I acted in a manner contrary to who I actually am, thus negating the entire process. Not only was I making the excercise useless because I wasn't giving what I wanted to give, but my falsehood was rather apparent, therefore giving me an undesirable fake quality. Or I simply made my move to achieve the illustrious Step 1 at exactly the wrong time, & everything fell apart at the seams. There were also times when the possibility of actualization was quite literally within my grasp, but I totally missed it because I was looking in the wrong direction.

I have successfully surpassed Step 1 on a couple occasions, but as the term would imply, Step 1 was not my goal. My actual goal was what I'll call Step 4; not because there's only two tasks between Steps 1 & 4, but due to a common analogy.

To quote captintrips, "the Grail will kill you every time." I already knew this before he said it, but I didn't know I knew it until he put words to it (if that makes sense). I know I knew this simply because I try to not become fanatical about any of my goals. At times, staying grounded about a goal is a bigger bitch then the goal itself, because I have an obsessive/compulsive personality. I sometimes have to reign myself in to subdue, as The Preacher once put it, my "intense single-minded abilites of analysis and dissemination." It can be a liability at times.

I had, & guess I still do have, a mental list I wrote of 4 material things I needed to be satisfied, & thus ready for whatever was the next part of my journey. Since I came up with the list, I have had all 4, but I've never had all 4 at the same time. There was a period of 2 years where I had 3 simultaneously, but the 4th, the one that is the topic of this post, still eluded me. Even then, I was sure that it was not my fault, that Someone or Something just did not want me to have it. Now I know it was as much, if not more, a matter of me, then it is a matter of forces outside of me.

I'm far better now at tackling the issue then I was in the past. I've had a lot of help, from a blessed friend, from serious self-analysis, from what I can only deem Divine Intervention. So the true Grail, not the false one that litter the path, draws ever nearer, & I become ever more optomistic. The main thing I have to ponder now is, where do my remaining pitfalls (at least, the ones I have control over) come from? Am I routinely making poor decisions, am I thinking too loftily, is it pure, unfeeling chance, is some force out there saying "Uh, no. You're not ready yet." or is it some force simply saying "Uh, no?"

I just looked at my clock & realized I've been working on this post for the last hour. If I don't go to bed now, I'm not going to at all tonight. So I'll just have to hope that 2 hours of sleep will refresh me enough to make the next 4 hours of work bearable. Goodnight, all.

Double Standards

Tue, 21 Sep 2004 17:20:34 GMT

I was having a conversation with Duda at my old job one day. To protect his identity, I won't say which Duda (though anyone who knows the Dudas can guess which one). I don't remember how it came up, but he mentioned that he doesn't look at women. I called him a liar, & he responded by telling me how his fianceè doesn't like it when he looks at other women, so he stopped looking. Trying to find out if this was a mutual agreement, I asked him if she looks at other guys. He responded in the affirmative, & before I could say anything, he gave me his defense, which was this.

"Women can't be held to the same standard."

That comment incensed me. I said to him, quite loudly, "They most certainly can!" I wondered if he had been sleeping through the latter half of the 20th Century (being Duda, he very well may have). Up until that moment, I had been under the impression that the entire point of the feminist movement was that women could be "held to the same standard." The fact that I doubt that women have been fighting for the right to not look at other men is moot. Equality runs the whole board. Neither men nor women should be able to pick & choose what they want to be equal in if they are in fact seeking true equality.

I ran his statement by a few women working with us at that time. To their credit, all of them felt that Mr. Duda was wrong in his assessment, & that if his fianceè is checking out dudes, he should be able to check out chicks without having to suffer a guilt-trip.

Rather then get into a diatribe about this as I am wont to do on this forum, I'll simply leave you with a single parting thought. ::takes a drag off a cigarette:: You can't have your cake & eat it, too.

CheeseDog's Billions

Tue, 21 Sep 2004 07:25:54 GMT

Lil Voodoo Guy: I'm gonna be rich.
XxSheckyGirlxX: cool
XxSheckyGirlxX: when?
Lil Voodoo Guy: As soon as my Dragonball Z videos sell.
XxSheckyGirlxX: ah buy me something
Lil Voodoo Guy: You see, I put down like opening bids of like 5 bucks or something for each tape...
Lil Voodoo Guy: But I set the reserve price at $10,000.
Lil Voodoo Guy: So I'm gonna make at least ten grand on each of them.
Lil Voodoo Guy: This is gonna be so cool.
XxSheckyGirlxX: lol they are going to pay that?
Lil Voodoo Guy: They have to, if they want the item.
Lil Voodoo Guy: That's how reserve prices work.
XxSheckyGirlxX: well what if they dont bid because its too high
Lil Voodoo Guy: They don't know what the reserve is.
Lil Voodoo Guy: Ebay doesn't tell you what the reserve is until it's met.
Lil Voodoo Guy: So they'll just keep bidding until they hit $10,000.
XxSheckyGirlxX: well dont they have to bid for the reserve?
Lil Voodoo Guy: Yeah.
XxSheckyGirlxX: well what if they stop bidding before 10,000?
Lil Voodoo Guy: Then they don't win the auction.
Lil Voodoo Guy: And the guy who does bid $10,000 wins it.
Lil Voodoo Guy: Man, I hope there's room in the bank for all the money I'm about to get.
XxSheckyGirlxX: what if no one wants it for 10000?
Lil Voodoo Guy: I don't think you're paying Attention.
Lil Voodoo Guy: I said it's Dragonball Z.
XxSheckyGirlxX: yeah i know
XxSheckyGirlxX: uh who would pay that much for DBZ?
Lil Voodoo Guy: Lots of people
Lil Voodoo Guy: And if at least one of them is on Ebay, I'm good.
XxSheckyGirlxX: well good luck
Lil Voodoo Guy: Thanks.
XxSheckyGirlxX: and buy me something if you do sell some
Lil Voodoo Guy: I promise not to forget you anymore then I already have when I'm swimming in money like Scrooge McDuck.

Roger

Fri, 17 Sep 2004 09:47:12 GMT

Not excerpted from Erin Tarn's Traversing Our Modern World

The Devil Badger is a perversion of science & nature. It defies the laws of geography by refusing to admit it's a woodland creature. The Devil Badger can be found in deserts, tundra, grassland, jungle, caves, in trees, on beaches, even renting apartments in the seedy portion of town. They can be between 3-7 feet in length at adult size. This wide variation is mostly to piss off zoologists. There are 3 distinct genders of Devil Badger; Male, Female, & Annoyance. The 3rd is so named because its exact purpose eludes scientists & it drives them crazy. The 3rd gender was originally called "nuisiance" until one researcher pointed out that nuisiance describes the race as a whole.
The Devil Badger was created by a Rouge Scientist who specialized in eugenics.* For reasons unknown, he was mating badgers with certain desirable traits to create a "super-badger." Unfortunately, the male badger didn't seem to like the female badger, so the geneticist often had to get the badger drunk. Through careful mating, the geneticist managed to develop badgers with spikes along their backs (God knows how). They were also all born alcoholics. After several more generations, & several failed attempts to breed out the alcoholism, the "Hyper Badgers" (Not quite Super Badgers) had developed red fur (probably due to inbreeding) & learned how to make "Home Brew." Before the geneticist had a chance to reach his goal, he died in a freak combine accident. The accident was freakish because he lived in an apartment building in downtown Ishpeming, on the 12th floor. No one within 10 miles owned any farming equipment (at least, nobody admitted to it). Only his apartment was hit by the combine, & most people suspected foul play since it was no secret that the Hyper Badgers didn't like the geneticist.
Lacking communication skills, money, human intelligence, or a place to live, the Hyper Badgers soon found themselves homeless. They attempted to sell "Home Brew" for money, but nobody wanted any, thanks to the old saying "Never buy moonshine from a badger." Discontented with the bum's life, the Hyper Badgers left Northern Gun, looking for fun & adventure.
It is unknown what happened to the Hyper Badgers after that. All people really know is 15 years after the Hyper Badger's departure, stories came in from the Magic Zone of a "Mean Badger" whose description matched the Hyper Badger. This "Mean Badger" was said to seem to hate people, but especially scientists, possess magical fire powers, & drank like it was going out of style. The "Mean Badgers" (later called Devil Badgers by most) were also said to have firey auras. The fire, while seemingly burning, was not hot, but pretty warm. While not territorial, they will attack any human or human-like D-Bee they encounter (unless they don't feel like it).
They are also said to exhibit human-like intelligence. They have been seen to employ simple combat techniques like divide & conquer, ambush, & swinging from trees for no readily apparent reason. They often travel in groups, with 2D4 Devil Micro Badgers for every 1 Devil Badger.

Devil Micro Badgers are small & furry critters. They are very quiet & docile creatures, except for when they are in the presence of Devil Badgers. For some reason, being with Devil Badgers makes the Devil Micro Badgers just as hostile & aggressive as a Devil Badger.
There are two different kinds of Devil Micro Badgers, black & blue. Both have a strange aura which surround them, much like the Devil Badger's Aura of fire. Alone, Devil Micro Badgers will almost always back down from a fight if at all possible. Black Devil Micro Badgers are slightly more aggressive, & may stand their ground if their home or family is threatened.
Note: The author is fully aware that the Devil Micro Badger is actually a Prairie Dog. That's just what people call it. Probably cuz they hang out with Devil Badgers. There is no evidence to suggest that the Devil Micro Badger is in any way connected to the Devil Badger, except for their comaderie.

*eu·gen·ics
n. (used with a sing. verb)
The study of hereditary improvement of the human race by controlled selective breeding.

Thu, 16 Sep 2004 06:35:57 GMT

I thought I'd relate a few incidents I've had regarding being jarred awake at night. I know most people reading this probably know the stories, but oh well.

Incident 1: Back when I was still at my apartment, we had a power outtage one night, probably like the 3rd that month. Johnny Xmas & I decided to hit Denny's for about an hour so we could be somewhere with light. After the novelty of that wore off, we went back home. It was probably about 12 am when I got tired of trying to read by candlelight, so I decided to will myself to sleep.

About 4 am, the power came back on. In our myopia, neither Xmas nor myself had thought to shut off any of the lights in the apartment, so I was suddenly awoken by every light in our apartment simultaneously turning on. God knows what I was dreaming about, but I was so deeply asleep & so quickly awakened that my dream manifested itself in reality. I glanced down at my bedroom floor to see (see, mind you, not out of the corner of my eye but dead-on) a jet black horseshoe crab scuttle across my room. I am including a picture of a horseshoe crab for those who don't know what one looks like.

My first thought in this bizarre fugue state I was in was to think "Oh, shit. It got out." For a full minute I was torn between turning off my lights & staying in my arachnid-free bed. Finally I decided on the former & went through the apartment flicking switches, the whole time doing a half-tiptoe half-pee dance manuever. I then went to my computer to make sure all my programs were running properly, the whole time keeping my feet a good three inches off the ground, lest the horseshoe crab scuttle across my bare feet. I sat in front of my computer for roughly five minutes before realizing I was being foolish, there was no horseshoe crab lose in my room.

I went to Skull Tell Ya's house the next day to discover he has a horseshoe crab mounted on his basement wall.

Incident 2: About a month ago, I was sleeping in my room, where I was having this dream that someone had placed a timebomb in my alarm clock. In the dream, it was set to go off at a specific time. While this is happening, I'm awoken by an unfamiliar ringing sound. The first thing I see is my alarm clock. Making the only logical conclusion based on previous evidence, I scream "SHIT!" fly out of my room, dive into the laundry room, & assume the "duck & cover" position. I don't know how long I was there, but it finally dawned on me that there was no bomb in my clock, & the sound I heard was my housephone ringing.

Incident 3: This happened this Monday night/Tuesday morning. I had eatten something that afternoon which hadn't agreed with me, & had apparently waited a good 12+ hours to assert itself. It must have fucked with my brain chemicals as well, because I was having this weird chaotic dream where I was in several locales simultaneously having several nonsense conversations.

I can remember this clearly enough to remember that I was half-awake for most of it, no doubt muttering incoherently. At some point, I got hit with nature's call somthing fierce, & somehow managed to stumble from my room to my bathroom, & then to the upstairs bathroom in what I've been terming a delirium. I didn't know where I was, I didn't know who I was. I remember for a time I thought I was broadway, at one point I thought I was Xmas, I think I even thought I was some imaginary woman from the dream.

All this time, I'm still in the dream-state, so reality was sort of juxtaposed with the dream. It wasn't like when I saw the horseshoe crab, this time it was like I was trapped in my own mind. I can remember some part of my (no doubt the same part that manuevered me into two bathrooms without incident) trying to end the dream, to force myself back to reality. It was about as scary as the time I blacked out from alcohol poisoning, knowing that for an indeterminent amount of time, I was not fully in control of my own body. Very surreal experience.

The Idyll of Miss Sarah Brown does not exist

Tue, 07 Sep 2004 07:00:58 GMT

"That's just someone's dream, baby. It's a beautiful dream, but dreams..."
"I know. Dreams aren't real."

-What Dreams May Come

To put it simply: love songs are too idyllic. They're too perfect. Even the "baby, I miss you so bad" brand love songs are based off the same concept as the "baby, I love you so bad" types. The concept is a simple one: a single person's happiness hinges on the romantic companionship of the one other person in the immense Universe that they're meant for. With love, life is forever happy & far simpler then being on one's own.

Now, I'm not advocating lifelong bachelorhood. I just find the whole idea too idealistic & unrealistic. Hell, to me, words like "idyllic" & "idealistic" imply a certain detachment from reality, to aspire for things that cannot be. To me, love follows more along the lines of Alice Cooper's portrayal. L'amour is about pain, sacrifice, & loss. Even in cases were love is not only acknowledged by the other party, but reciprocated, requires investing a portion of yourself. The way I see it, there are two views to take on this investment. There is the romantic view (taken by most love song writers), which says that a person is incomplete, & the part he (or she) invests is a part that was previously unrecognized by both parties. Then there is a more pragmatic view (taken by more contemporary songwriters, Gen-Xers & whatnot), which states that a person is already a whole, & therefore, to love, one must divest a portion of who he (or she) is in order to honestly love someone.

I see this as a good explanation for why a lot of people ditch their friends when they fall for someone. Consciously, they buy into the first camp, which tells them that this person represents a hole in their soul. Subconsciously, they feel the other group is right. Since they can't intellectually admit they have to remove something of themselves, they sever what they feel is the easiest tie to break, the outer tie to other people. To a certain degree, this action is oddly ironic. After all, a person is (from an uncaring mathematical point of view) trading one type of love for another.

The other problem I have is a matter of pure saturation. I can't walk 15 fucking feet without hearing a love song. And the whole drippy, sugary view taken towards love in that medium runs so entirely contrary to my own personal experience that it's enough to drive a metaphoric railroad spike through my head. I can't honestly say if I've ever been in love, I really don't know if I have been or if I merely thought I was. Whether I was or not, without fail, it was woefully unrequited, as well as woefully pain-ridden & heart-wrenching. Most days, I'd rather lose a testicle in a freak accident then feel that way again, even if there was a distant chance of pay-off. Try as I might, though, it just happens again. And I know it'll happen again, I know as I'm wiping the dust off my shirt from the last time I was booted in the juevos. Much as I fear falling in love again, I never fear it as much as when I gotta hear some whiny fuck on the radio sing about it.

And that is why I hate love songs.

This is what I get for looking at the livejournals of someone who posts comments in a friend's LJ

Mon, 06 Sep 2004 09:19:11 GMT

a r y c light: only, it's reflecting the blue, too, and the blue is somehow darker than the white

Wow. Who'd'a thunk it? A color that's darker then white.

I want to leave today off on a high note if I have to force it

Sun, 05 Sep 2004 11:52:38 GMT

Here's something I'd thought of posting for a while.

Oper: Good afternoon, O'Sullivan Furniture. This is Cindi.
CDX: Foul cad! You hath not won this battle!
Oper: Excuse me?
CDX: Your attempts to thwart me have been met with naught but failure!
Oper: What are you talking about, sir?
CDX: I must admit that you had vexed me for a short time, but Lo! I have my trusty drill!
Oper: Do you have a question or concern?
CDX: Yeah, I'm short one screw here.
Oper: Which screw would that be?
CDX: YER MA! ::click::

I feel better now.