The Abyss of the Human Mind

Well, no, the title has nothing to do with art. It has to do with ART. That's an acronym, for those of you who did not already figure that out. Annoying Rhetorical Tripe. I feel witty... Anywho, on Friday teh family went out to dinner. Well, at least mother said we were. But noooooooo, it was all a clever ploy to drag me to an ART show. Now, do not get me wrong, art is fine and dandy, like a popsicle on a semi-hot but not too hot day, but ART, that's a whole nother issue. Turns out is was some hoity toity affair whose "theme" was the "freedom of the modern woman" or something...I guess. Anywho, it involved lots of "interpretative" paintings and strange collections of "found" objects. There was a sculpture involving the statue of liberty, a rainbow colored snake, and a stop sign. It was relatively nice, though not my taste. That's fine, but, the description is what caught my eye. At one point the artists states: "The rainbow may represent a spiritual force". Now, do not get me wrong, but if you spent the time to make the damned thing, shouldn't you at least know what it "means" (if you choose to assign "hidden" "meanings" to the things that is). You should just know what something MAY represent...honestly... There was a good sculpture or two, one good painting, and a painting from an artist I know personally. Everything else was pretty much sub-par. Add to this the fact that I was hungry (having been promised dinner), there were so many people talking and talking and talking that you couldn't hear yourself think (much less interpret "interpretative" ART), and that the venue was so small that you kept bumping into people. Amusingly enough, there was a group of Japanese tourists there, they kept bumping into each other and then bowing and apologizing...amusing. On the upside, there was a nice jazz combo playing that provided the only real art in the place. Eventually, I did get the aforementioned dinner and all was well and good with the world, yay!

So, saw Death to Smoochy again. Very good and amusing movie. Sort of has to be, what with Robin Williams and all (well, I guess it could also be dark and morbid, looking at some of the movies he's made of late). Very amusing movie about one down and out kiddy tv show star trying to kill the one that took his time slot, nifty. DEATH TO SMOOTCHY!...Well, that's about all for now.








In Closing...

"Those guys are the toughest charity of them all"

"Come on boys, let's all pray, then get shitfaced."


I’m all lost in the supermarket
I can no longer shop happily
I came in here for that special offer
A guaranteed personality

Well, Wednesday, February 23, 2005 - a date which will live in infamy - the World of Music and all that is holy and good was suddenly liberated from blatant attacks by profane evil and forces of the Empire of Bad Taste. Yes indeed ladies and gentlemen, the oh so horrendously untalented "punk" band Blink 182 has been wiped from the face of the earth...To be more exact, they went on "hiatus" to "enjoy" the "fruits of their labors" with "family" and "loved ones". For those who do not speak BS, this roughly translates to: "we have decided to stop disgracing the face of Music (and all that is good and holy in this world) with our horrid attempts at music, our poserish mislablement of said horrid attempts at music, and our whinny voices in general. We are extremely sorry for this egregious misdeed and have decided to break up indefinitely. However, we have decided to use the word 'hiatus' so that our fan base will remain somewhat alive so that we can occasionally go back and milk the cow of cash with 'reunions' and the like."

That about sums it up.

And to add to my wonderful Friday (I just received this [and following] information today because, quite frankly, I try not to verse myself on the daily goings of of Blink 182 and other such "musical" atrocities) it appears as though Brian Welch the guitarist for the horridly horrid and unfortunately horridly popular Corn...er...Korn (yes because an asinine spelling means that you truly have the musical gift...thank you for fooling no one [except a few million imbeciles {but let us not get into that issue -it would be far too easy-}]) has left the band (que rejoicing). I feel like singing a song...Well...I may have a horrible singing voice but at least I do not use it in front of microphones at recording studios like some people...

So, Father is back from England. He brought back, among other things, a nice 400g Toblerone. Swiss chocolate? Britain? I'll just not question the wonderful chocolate of the Alpine gods. Speaking of England. The London trip departs in only 28 days, if my calculations are correct *rejoices*. My father apparently could not get a single good egg in England, describing them as the consistency of "a rubber ball". Various people advised him to say different things to the waitstaff to achieve desired results. Eventual a man told him what he had already surmised for himself, that no matter how you ask them to prepare it, it always comes out the same...rubber ball. Enough amusing anecdotes and back to enjoying this wonderful day. In being three days late on receiving such wondrous news, I have to enjoy it three times as much. Best get to that enjoying (that means you too! [LOOK LIVELY!])!








In Closing,

It's such a good feeling to know you're alive.
It's such a happy feeling: You're growing inside.
And when you wake up ready to say,
"I think I'll make a snappy new day."
It's such a good feeling, a very good feeling,
The feeling you know that we're friends.

Copywrite 1970 by the late, great Fred McFeely Rogers
(...yes, that is where the deliveryman's name came from...in case you were wondering)

Well, a tad over due (damn...library books...must remember) but, I am 17...wee...i guess. I dont feel any older...i dont feel any more mautre...i certaintly havent had any epiphanies lately. Oh well. As I see it, i was pretty much as mature now as I was in 5th grade. I just sort of skipped that middle child stage thing...i guess.

In anycase. Took the Myer's Brigg's test in time to speak the other day. Yet again scored INTP, thats about the 4th time in a row, so I think i'm pretty sure that i'm INTP. That's Introverted iNtuition Thinking Percieving, for those that care to know. I get to be 1% of the population. Yay...i get to be different no matter where I go...yay...i guess. Well, maybe if I went to a MENSA meeting, I might be 40% of the population, but that's besides the point, because MENSA people are arrogant IQ bound snobby bastards...for the most part. Well, in summation of INTP, I have percision in language and logic, yet sometimes I have impatience with others with lower intelectual faculties and do not express my feelings well through speech and therefore am sometimes percieved as being arogant...aint that the truth. INTP's are often so lost in thought that they seem detatched and oblivious..."Jon, I said hi to you in the hallway. Why didnt you say anything back? Do you hate me?"...yup, get that one a lot.

Well, enough about me, and onto...whatever it is that you do.








In Closing,

"I'm feeling lazy and won't spell check this post...too bad!"
-Guess Who

Well, Johnny Carson has died. He shall be sorely missed. One the masters of comedy, the King of Latenight, he was a true great, one of my idols, up there with Churchill...almost.

And, onto other less depressing things. Today, went to the Art Museum to see Petra "Lost City of Stone". It was a relatively interesting exhibit, though nothing too awfully special. The exhibit was crowded...toooooo crowded. Now, I do not know about you but I do not take to kindly to being in a hot, stuffy, and crowded room. Makes me want to lash out and decapitate something. Instead I just get huffy and impatient. Personally I'd rather just go to Petra and walk around, but, that's just me. All the yuppies buying $75 handbags with camels on them made in Amman, Jordan...which somehow makes them Petra merchandise...go figure. I'll just take the $1000 hand carved olive wood chess set...thank you very much.

Well, that's about all of "importance" I've got to say, so you have a good rest of whatever time of day it is.









In Closing,




What can I say? I've enjoyed every moment,
and I hope you do to. Thanks and goodnight.
- Johnny Carson. May you rest in peace

Well, no matter how I try to transcend the horrid existence that is being a human on the planet earth, the world never ceases to amaze me. But, we will come to that in a moment. For it is now the realm of the mundane.

So, today I was nifty and sick. Ergo, I stayed home...wee. I managed to: read half of The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy (thus finishing the wondrous novel, for the second time), watch Brad Pit's ass jiggle (*shudder*) whilst doing a horridly inaccurate interpretation of part of "Homer's" Iliad in the movie Troy (at least they didn't give the Trojan Horse wheels), and procrastinate on my homework...which is why I am writing this.

Now, onto the "the world never ceases to amaze me" part (this incidentaly also ties into this entry's title). Well, this little tidbit of the world is less amazement and more amusement, but regardless...And thus is the text from an article in the may 2003 issue of Wired, a wonderful electronics based publication (I happened to turn it up whilst looking for pictures for a collage).

No ordinary peripheral, Sega's mouselike Trance Vibrator pulses in time with its PS2 shooter Rez, emitting vibrations four times stronger than rumble controllers like Sony's Dualshock. As you advance through the game's levels, the tremors intensify. "You can put it anywhere - your foot, your back, your waist," says Tetsuya Mizuguchi, Rez's creator. "It's up to our customers' imagination." And what imaginative customers Sega has. Female gamers in Japan are putting the peripheral between their legs. (No word yet on when it will be available in the States.) The company doesn't recommend using the device as a sex toy, but it does come with a washable protective pouch. And with a name like Trance Vibrator, what did Sega expect?
- Chris Kohler

Of course, this device hails from the country that sold used women's panties in vending machines and the Hello Kitty vibrator (of course, Sanrio Company Ltd. swears it was a shoulder massager...try telling that to the thousands of Japanese teen girls who bought the product before it was taken off the shelves) so it doesn't surprize me all that much, I just found it amusing.

And so, thus we bring this adventure to a close.






In Closing,

"'I don't want to die now!' he yelled. 'I've still got a headache! I don't want to go to heaven with a headache, I'd be all cross and wouldn't enjoy it!'"

Well, yes indeed, yet another year is upon us. What will it bring? What things will happen? Do these questions even mater? No...not really, time is simply an abstract concept created by man to organize things. Nature needs no "time"...things just happen. Henceforth, does this "New Years" stuff even matter? Enough of the looking forwards, time for the looking backwards. Last year was full of excitement. What with the start of wars...oh wait, that was '03...um snipers...no 02'...buildings being rammed into by planes?...no '01...hmm. Well...that's disappointing. I guess the only thing '04 had to offer was still more presidential ineptness, domestic divas behind bars, and Bill Murray making more movies...eh, I've had worse [ed. this is or course not to imply that more Murray Movies are a malign thing]. My, that certainly puts things in perspective.

Moving on to other topics of discussion. Isn't it lovely that you can live in a country where when you wake up and turn on the TV you can see rows of bodies being sprayed with dissinfectants. Ok, well, maybe it was not the FIRST thing I saw on TV when I got up...but still, I prefer my corpses at lunch...maybe a thigh or something. For those who don't know of which corpses I speak, I speak of the ones in Asia who got tsunamied (what a fun made up word) and earthquaked. How ever much I would not want to die that way (I have dreams of exsanguination on a tile floor or a plane crash or something) it still all goes to the great cause of getting rid of us pesky humans. Not that we need to be completely eradicated by the exterminator that is mother nature (or ourselves) but we could use a little bashing now and then. Anywho, back to the scum on the bottom of the slippers of broadcast mediums world wide...the media. Of course, this excludes the ones that actually try like NPR and BBC and PBS. Yes, the horrid, ugly, putrescent media. I can give them credit for at least trying to conceal their trickery. "Oh, we're showing you disaster footage because it is news." News is important facts and events not some blatant appeal to our appetite for violence, carnage, and voyerism. It's not news, it's just entertaining filler between commercials. Incidentally, homeless vagrants running for public office and kids stuck in pipes is also not news...ugh...human interest stories. Of course, you have even lower forms of "news" like the morning shows or CNN. Oh, how I could go on and on about CNN. In short, I do like CNN's purpose and mission, but it is poorly executed. They present the news too soon, without enough analysis and fact checking...so many errors it is not even funny...or is it...







In Closing,

"We never made good husbands did we? Well, at least I have a good excuse, I'm part gay"

"You know, they say we're all part gay"

Well, stop me if you've heard this one before. STANDARDIZED TESTING SUCKS. Yes, indeed it does. How praytell can you (you being the "system") tell us that we are all warm, fuzzy, special, and unique and yet, at the same time, say that we must conform to one cookie cutter knowledge set. Why Gods Why!!! Anywho, this little bit has been brought to you by the fact that I scored 10, yes, just 10 points below national Merit. 10 bloody points...10. Honestly 10...I CURSE YOU 10, I CURSE YOU TO AN ETERNITY OF BAD FOOT MASSAGES!!! Anywho on the bright side I was in the 97th percentile... So...statistically I can point to any person my age and say: "Ha, I'm better than you (at least on the PSAT, some restrictions may apply)" and be right about it. But, seeing as how that is arrogant and I also feel that standardized testing is not a valid determinant of a persons "goodness" I do not think that I shall. So, in summation of that, standardized testing needs to shot in the head, three times, at point blank range, with hollow point bullets...roight. Moving on. DiCraprio ass, yes that's right DiCraprio ass. This happens to be the entire focus of the movie "The Aviator". Essentially they take a wonderful man's life (Howard Hughes) and replace it with DiCraprio ass and call it a movie...Ok..Maybe that is a bit unfair. It was a rather good movie. But for Gods' sakes, they did not have to show 5 minutes of fully unclothed DiCraprio...mainly the ass portion...*shudders* I think I'll go take a valium now...oh, if only I had valium...if only...






In Closing,

One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small,
And the ones that mother gives you
Don't do anything at all.
Go ask Alice
When she's ten feet tall.

&

Remember what the dormouse said:
"Feed your head,
Feed your head"