July 9, 2009

Pokemon: Explained

From the Journal of Cartoon Overanalyzations, Pokemon is explained:

Have you ever noticed that the pacing, tone and story development of Pokemon changes after Ash is hit by lightning in the early episodes, how Ash and his world were relatively normal until after the incident?

I have a theory.

The accident with the bike put Ash into a coma. Days later he was found and was hurried to the hospital and treated with heavy medications, which is why Team Rocket became less menacing. The medication took effect and stabilized his coma dreams so that instead of being terrifying, they became idyllic, allowing him to live out his Pokemon master fantasies.

It’s good for a laugh and just a fun exercise in psycho-overanalysis.

full article here

June 14, 2009

Harold Potter and the Floating Rug

Viktor Vasnetsov. The Flying Carpet (1880). Oi...

Image via Wikipedia

Harold Potter woke up one morning and the first thing that came out of his lips was “penis.”

Harold Potter looked like an otter. The weather was good, so he decided that he wanted an adventure. Not just any adventure, but a magnificent one. The very best adventure there ever was. As a matter of fact, “adventure” was practically his middle name that day if it weren’t for the fact that he legally changed it to “animalgenitalia.com” after selling it on eBay for $5. Yes, there was something about the morning that called to him and so, he went over to his microwave and sent an internet to his best friend David Davidson from Japanada.

"Dear David,

It’s me again, Harold Potter. I know we have not met,  but today seems like a good day to meet for an adventure. Come to my house soon, but make it unexpected. I’ll be in bed when you suddenly arrive in and make today suddenly take a turn for the unexpected.

Sincerely, Harold Potter

PS Do I really look like an otter?

He sat on his bed and pretended nothing would happen. He saw something on his baby blue sheets and leaned over to sniff it. Then the room burst into what seemed like flames but was really special effects and David appeared.

“Harold!” he shouted. “Stop talking to me! I gave you a smiley comment on facebook that one time and you’ve thought we were friends ever since. Here’s your frickin’ plot device.”

He threw a magic rug on the ground.

“So, what is this? A magic carpet?”

"Uh, yeah, sure. It’s the most important thing you need for your journey. DO NOT GO WITHOUT IT!” David was already casting his teleportation spell again. He only had enough MP to use it twice today. Green swirls started spiralling around him in case his chanting and being transparent didn’t give away that magic was happening. “And if an otter could look stupid, fat, ugly, have no friends, and no  at the same time, then yeah, you do look like an otter.” And then he vanished.

Harold was alone again, so he started to talk to himself. “He said that I had to figure out what I had to do with it myself… I guess that means I should ask Hermione.”

Hermione was next door because she was his neighbor for some reason. She was busy studying a Magic Theory when Harold knocked on her door.

“Hermione,” Harold said. “How do I use this magic rug to further the plot?”

“Go to the peak of the tallest mountain and leap off it towards the Great Abyss to continue your journey and take Haggard with you.” She produced a boisterous fellow with a large beard and a viking biking helmet.

“Oh, I see, he’ll lend his strength to aid me on my epic journey to the great unknown where dangers are on every corner, right?”

“Yes… I mean, no. I just hate you two.” And she slammed the door.

They did a bunch of stuff like gobbling hobgoblins, hobbling gobhoblins, fought a bear, and even tied their own shoe, a feat that they hadn’t accomplished for a thousand years. On the way, they managed to encounter many secondary characters who ended up getting killed. It took them seven days and seven nights to reach the icy mountain peak two stories high and one story long.

“We’ve finally made it!” said Harold. “Now, Haggard, hand me the rug so we can ride it when we leap.”

“Uh… Here.”

“You just said, ‘Uh… Here’ and handed me a tomato.”

“To-may-to, to-mah-to, what’s the difference?! Let’s keep going!”

“Haggard, I don’t think-”

They jumped and they died.

The End

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June 7, 2009

What am I going to do now?

Shit, man, shit, I have not written anything for a while, nothing for a while, nothing. Where have I been? I have been just dicking around with my time, man. I need to get back on track, on the ball, get the ball rolling, grow a pair and throw them against the wall action. Man, I need to get shit DONE.

I promised myself that I would do so many things this summer, but I lost my frickin to do list. Lemme see what I can remember.

  • The Nine Voyages of Captain Howie Potter
  • The Epic Seven Days of Burning
  • Some shit in RPG Maker, I don’t know how I would make maps or anything but it’s already day 5 or so of my free trial, so not much time, if I let myself get into it I learn some programming too, but the important thing is that it has to be entertaining
  • Learn to play piano?
  • Youtube Videos – Video Game Pun Titles
  • Dickheads songs
  • Harold Potter?
  • READ FFS, READ BOOKS, STOP TALKING ABOUT THINGS YOU DONT KNOW ABOUT AND LEARN THEM
  • PLAY VIDEO GAMES, Stop buying games and start playing them! Have fun! Live the experience!
  • An effort to get scholarships and stuff would be good
  • FIGURE OUT A MAJOR
  • Summer Job? Experience? Money?

Yeah, I simply must get to work on things that are important to me. Just need to get myself started and I simply know I will be a beastly machine producing things of worth.

I’ve been thinking a lot about philosophy and about what the most important virtue above all should be and it usually comes down to happiness and existence. We live to be happy but we be happy so we can live. I’ve always been thinking about the fundamental virtue to be held above all others in life, but it never occurred to me until recently that I’ve essentially been looking for the meaning of life.

With jobs, it’s especially difficult to think about because one must consider the value of one’s actions to measure up to the value of one’s possessions. How much is your time worth? How much is your happiness worth? Are you willing to do things you wouldn’t want to do in your free time for money?

I just want to be entertaining. I don’t really mind being famous, but even if I have my own thing going on that’s not a break out hit, then I’ll be content as long as I can do it while having fun and giving other people an experience that’s worthwhile. Of course, I say this now before I truly know the future and how I’ll feel about money and success then, but the point seems reasonable enough to hold into the future.

I really don’t know. I think I am able to do many things in this world, but can’t help myself from focusing on things that require work. I’ve become so comfortable with the world, so lax in my own content with how things are that I can’t allow the demands of the future to motivate me into acting. I feel like everybody just wants to be a kid, being taken care of by the paternal society providing entertainment and comfort for all of us… in exchange for our efforts and services, of course. I just want to know what’s worth the effort.

Deep down, I know that I just want to inspire people. I sat down and made a list of things that I wanted to do with my life, just listing things that seemed to be worthwhile until I got closer and closer to the idea that I found meaningful. I ended up saying that I wanted to give the gift of beauty in this world. I want to make them think, I want to make them feel, I want to give them I can produce that’s really worth giving. There’s not much else I really want.

I like being creative. I like making new ideas that might work and trying new things out. I like the idea that I can make something that no one else has and that it’s worth something. I really want to create something big though, something that a lot of people can really get something out of. I haven’t been working for it though. It’s because I’ve been lazy. Hm… I suppose there is this duality to me that I feel like I want to be here to get something from the world, but I think what I want to get most of all is something from myself. It’s nice to read and play games and watch youtube videos and shit, but what’s it all for if I’m not improving myself as a person who can give something back? I’ll just be an idle watcher, a nameless face amongst the crowd of people watching. I want to be center stage damnit. It doesn’t even have to be me, it could just be my work. I want to present something to the world that they’ll know it was done by me and I want to be ready for when that happens.

Well, this has been going on long enough. I’ll leave you with a quote from Walt Disney:

The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing.

April 22, 2009

Nostalgia List

I was sitting in Psych today and I was thinking about what matters to me so I ended up making this list of things that have nostalgia for me.

  1. Xanga
  2. Shareaza
  3. Epileptic Gaming
  4. Drew Carey Show
  5. Early Adult Swim Shows
  6. Prisoner’s Dilemma
  7. Derren Brown
  8. Existentialism Class
  9. Digg
  10. MIT OCW
  11. Chucky Note Pad (lost that shit senior year)
  12. Fables (comics)
  13. LXG (comics)
  14. Dofus
  15. Disney Movies (especially in the 90s)
  16. Counter-Strike
  17. Starcraft
  18. Pokemon (TV Show, TCG, video games)
  19. Yu-Gi-Oh (TV Show, TCG, video games)
  20. Pink Floyd
  21. Ender’s Game
  22. A Modest Destiny
  23. 1/0
  24. Harry Potter
  25. Final Fantasy (6,7,Tactics)
  26. The Sims
  27. X-Play
  28. TechTV
  29. Wolfenstein: Enemy Territory
  30. Call of Duty
  31. Rollercoaster Tycoon
  32. West Side Story
  33. Robocop
  34. Unwrapped (Food Network)
  35. Playing with toys and Action Figures
  36. Playing with Legos
  37. Star Wars
  38. Indiana Jones
  39. PBS (Zoom, Zoboomafoo)
  40. Cartoon Network (Dexter’s Lab, PPG, Samurai Jack)
  41. Nickelodeon (Hey Arnold, Catdog, Wild Thornberries, Nick Arcade)
  42. Nick Jr. (Little Bear, Richard Scarry)
  43. Imagining the Tenth Dimension
  44. Resident Evil 4
  45. Playing the Clarinet
  46. Playing Alto Sax in Middle School
  47. Simpsons
  48. Stock Market Game
  49. WWF/WWE
  50. The Hobbit
  51. Howl’s Moving Castle (the book by Diana Wynne Jones)
  52. Ray Bradbury’s Martian Chronicles
  53. Old Kung Fu Movies (Lau Kar Leung, Gordon Liu)
  54. New Kung Fu Movies (Jackie Chan, Stephen Chow)
  55. Newgrounds
  56. Round Enix (club at stuy)
  57. Homestar Runner
  58. Gundam Wing
  59. Discovery Zone
  60. Chess
  61. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
  62. Nintendo Entertainment System / Nintendo 64
  63. Going to my cousin’s house on Long Island
  64. Going to my uncle’s house in Connecticut
  65. Reading a book to get that coupon for a free pizza at Pizza Hut
  66. Book Fairs
  67. Lateral Thinking Puzzles
  68. Optical Illusion Books
  69. Where’s Waldo
  70. I Spy (Books)
  71. Sesame Street
  72. Being the kid who turned down the lights during two graduations when I was in elementary school
  73. Winning the Spelling Bee at my Middle School
  74. Tim Burton Batman Movies
  75. Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure
  76. Nightmare Before Christmas (this was scary when I was young)
  77. Travel Channel (Las Vegas)
  78. Poker Tournaments on TV
  79. Birthday Parties
  80. Catching a ball flying deep into center field by jumping into the air in softball
  81. Sconex
  82. Ocean’s Eleven
  83. The Matrix
  84. Getting Cable for the first time
  85. Playing kill the guy with the ball
  86. Playing soccer
  87. Blue Brothers
  88. Park near Stuy
  89. Azra’s Apartment
  90. Eric’s basement
  91. The year when Christmas could never be as good as it used to be
  92. Sharing a room with my brother
  93. That day I got hit by a car
  94. That time I slipped and fell and cut my chin open and needed stitches
  95. My Teachers
  96. Conversations on the train ride home from Stuy
  97. Waking Life
  98. The Machinist
  99. The Prestige
  100. Deviant Art
  101. Science Projects…
  102. History Projects…
  103. Yearbooks
  104. Being afraid of the basement
  105. Peanuts movies (Charlie Brown)
  106. Dr. Seuss

I think that’s most of it.

April 22, 2009

What’s a gremlin to another?

Hear this here, you’re a missin the idea
of this beer begat version
of the Illiad
the will he had
cannot foot the bill he had

registering for fate

I think I have just the thing
and I think I have the brains
dont know about the veins but
I can grow wings

If I have to fly forever.

Interesting paradox
wrapped in a pair of socks

shoved up your anal sphincter, wow.

Not a clever scheme.
Not a fulfillment of wishes.
More like a cerebral swishes.
That’s swimming with the fishes.

The snack that
Smiles back,
Goldfish

Bibbity bobbidi Boo
Till the sun goes down
Guns at high noon
Let’s burn something soon

What can catch fire really nice?
Something ffffffresh like Dentyne Ice.

Shaquille O Neal, your life is at threat
You can’t deny this fact, you’ll soon be dead
Send me to prison, but the task has been filed.
You’ll be on fire soon. I also raped your child.

Let’s speak of the truth

Smile back with the grinning
A while back we were winning
Til the sun goes down
These words are my beginning

But my bags are quite mute
We’re traveling in a suit

I’m scared to fly cause I’m leaving the ground
I drink too much, my soul is quite bound

Unless I spread wings

Or you stop drinking, you punk?
Why do you insist?
You must not persist.
And get out of this funk.

I’m supposed to be polar, swimming in the ocean.

You’re goddamn retarded.
The sun’s where I’m bugging.
And you’re quite well regarded.
I’m more worried with what I’m chugging.

What’s a gremlin to his mother?

That’s why it is said
Wear your heart on your sleeve, and keep your mind on one another.

then go out and just think, jesus. think of something on your own.

April 21, 2009

What was I looking for…?

I was sitting right here when it happened. I had the idea for what I wanted to write. Exactly what was on my mind that the idea would come to me and I would be the vehicle for it’s existence, like my fingers are like birth canals, you don’t even know, man.

And I lost it. I had it in my head and I lost it. I had a miscarriage. I’m so sad. I was going to make a baby. We need more babies in this world, more smiles, just pure signs of joy. I want to bring that to this world. I want everyone to feel like a kid again, like when they first got that special present for their birthday. I want them to see magic for real, not illusions, but back when magic was real. Wouldn’t it be cool to watch your favorite movie for the first time again and have your socks blown off again? Wouldn’t that be great?

What am I talking about? Humans aren’t meant to be childish. They have a responsibility above all other animals to labor and toil for the advancement of humanity. I hope humanity doesn’t divide into two classes like in The Time Machine, the lovely care-free Eloi and the industrious, horrid Morlocks. Too bad time machines don’t exist.

What I want more than a time machine is the fountain, not to go through all of time, but to be timeless. To be immortal. And I don’t want to be passively immortal, because that’s just as good as dead. I want to be legendary like a… like a motherfuckin Articuno or some shit. Why’d I choose Articuno? Who gives a shit about Articuno, everyone knows Zapdos is where it’s at, but that’s besides the point. We’re getting off track.

Everything is just a little bigger when your head is smaller. But even when you grow up, you realize that the good things weren’t as good and the bad things exist for you. How can you live like this? Only when you realize how small you are and how big the world is, what do you want to do? Explore it? Everyone gets off somehow. They get off on travel or food or video games or sex. I think that’s the problem, we grow up to have sex. That’s a good thing? My problem with it is when people realize that their only purpose is to have sex. But I guess if it makes more smiles in this world, it’s worth it.

I gotta make smiles. I gotta keep giving. I want to find what I want to give. I gotta find what I can give, what’s inside me. That way I’ll never die. I gotta keep trying. Working at it. Just sitting here and letting what will be the case be the case and see what I am. Either I have what it takes or I don’t, but that means I gotta keep trying to see if I do. Don’t let those dreams die like kids drowning in a pool of reality, don’t let your inner child drown man, just keep working at it.

Figure out what you can do. Try new things every day. Live with a smile. Don’t be wasteful of your time… TIME. THAT’S IT! I REMEMBER.

The idea was that “Time is precious.” But that’s not even true. Stones are precious. Children are precious. Time is more than precious– it’s essential. It’s everything. All you are is the ability to go through time, just falling through this 4th dimension towards the end of time like gravity pulls you down to Earth. Just live damnit. The only way to stop yourself from dying is if you keep living. Just LIVE. Find something good and go with it. Find it, love it, live it.

That’s it.

I’ve got it.

I’ve found that fountain. I’ve got it, damnit. Everyone does. If you ain’t living, then you’re dying. So get living. Figure out what’s killing you and bring yourself to life.

Live, damnit. Why don’t you fuckin live?

April 21, 2009

Writing a Story

I’m writing a story about writing this story. I came up with the idea in my English class when my professor mentioned the idea that Midsummer Night’s Dream featured a play within a play. I typed all of this my self and still am typing. This story is like an ouroboros eating it’s own tail. I’ve always wondered about how one would go about eating oneself. One would start with the legs, but after that it gets messy. I wondered if I could eat my own mouth. I could always get my cheeks. How would it be like to have no cheeks? You would see my teeth from the side.

I like my teeth. I brush them every day. I am using an electric toothbrush. I use my left hand (I am right handed). My dad compliments me on my teeth a lot. They’re nice and white (according to him). I wonder what the value of a compliment from him is. I wonder the value of what people say, whether it’s important or not. I wonder if people notice if I misspeak. Do other people notice when I’m about to begin a word, giving a phonemic sound before I correct myself and change the word on the fly? I don’t think I’m good at improvising. I wonder if I’m good at comedy. Should I go into comedy? Dare I go in a direction on a path that probably has no hope? I wonder about writing, too. I like typing, but my handwriting doesn’t work as well. Jack Kerouac was criticized for being a “typist” and not a writer. He did lots of crazy things on the road.

I wonder what a good road trip would be like. Good company, good conversation. Would I get too deep? Would it be fun? With the right people. I would have to talk. It’s not like a bus ride to Boston where I pay $15 to sit and read by myself for several hours. I don’t do good reading when I’m on the bus or the airplane. I went to Boston on April 10th. I went to Florida on March 7th. I love going on adventures to explore ideas that bewilder and entertain me. I want to be stimulated and have my thoughts provoked. At the end of my trip, I said, I want to do something great. That’s what I like about these trips. I need to work at it though. I feel as if I haven’t been keeping up my end of the bargain. I let myself free and now I have to let myself choose to work, choose where I want to slave away my labors of love to create something that’s meaningful, deep, entertaining, significant.

I realize that I’m alive. I realize that I have consciousness, but that I also am consciousness. Everything that is is trapped within this body. These limbs. This skin. These nerves. These hairs constantly growing from me. These eyes constantly staring and they don’t stop, because I cannot close my eyes truly, I can only put something over my eyes. I don’t know what it would be like to be a bat. Thomas Nagel also wondered.

I wonder about qualia. I feel as if so much of reality is qualia that people take our conscious experiences for granted. I wonder if I should be a neurologist. I’m a pretty smart guy, I guess. I’m reading Descartes’s Discourse on Method. He seems like a pretty reasonable fellow. I wonder if I should be a philosopher… but I am constantly faced with the philosopher’s paradox.

Should I be a logician? Should I be a psychologist? That’s a bit in between science and philosophy. I wonder how much work I can put into things and how much my work is worth something. I wonder if I really tried, how far would I get in mathematics? I don’t think I would be able to find any new proofs. I was reading about Abstract Algebra today and I had so much trouble understanding what I was reading, it was as if the words were meaningless. I guess I have been having some trouble focusing on my reading.

I could go on forever, but I can’t. I’m going to die. Socrates said that you would have to catch him if you wanted to bury him. He believed in forms and the soul. I don’t believe in that. I’m scared of death.

So scared.

What is it to be nothing and to never be again? We’ll never know. We’ll just be gone. Everything we’ve worked for is just so that we don’t feel scared in our dying moments. And we don’t even know when it’ll happen. The best we can do is live life to the fullest. Dare to dream. You might not be able to fulfill your dreams no matter how hard you try, but nobody ever fulfilled their dreams without trying.

This is my story.

April 18, 2009

Johnny P: On Wanting

Sometimes I feel all I want is a lazy Saturday, somewhere peaceful where I am away from everything. I want peace. However, as consequence of being, I am drawn into the conflict of living. Thus, I am forced to act, to make a decision. If we fail to act in our hesitance to accept reality, we leave ourselves open to the consequences of failing to act.

Sometimes I just feel wantless dissatisfaction under the tyranny of my own doubt. What the hell is stopping me from just sitting down and doing nothing for ever? Why would I want to participate in this mindless game where we constantly compare our own wants to the wants of others? Am I just joining the good fight and dressing up in a uniform like everyone else to go out into the world and simply meeting the desires of whats expected of me, carving my own destiny simply to keep up appearances? Are people just letting themselves be subject to the sense that what they do matters to them merely to satisfy their egos and vague sense of meaning, determined by arbitrary means? We’re just products of the machine of nature. The difference from being a product of nature and a product of the machine of men is that there was no inherent purpose. We’re just made because something wanted to make us and they were made simply because something wanted to make them, just this replicating immortality of the desire to pursue procreation as recreation. We’re just tiny bugs that learned to think how to make 1 + 1 = 2 without understanding why it’s possible.

I don’t want anything. Just forced around all the time, shoved into existence to make decisions as per the laws that determine the psychology of a neotenous biological mechanism. We’ll develop science, we’ll create art, we’ll uncover what we define as truth and what is right for the state of the world at the time and feel proud that we have done something of some merit. We’ll do it because we’ll have no other alternative. There’s nothing to life. To exist is to come from non-existence and to return to non-existence. We’re stuck in consciousness as part of the condition and no matter what level of transcendence or supposed ascension of reality that we wish to pursue, we’ll always be stuck as who we are and be determined as a chemical reaction that just happens. There’s no indication that there can be more than one outcome of a situation. Our path is chosen for us.

I’m not criticizing people. I’m not saying you should stop doing what you’re doing because you’re hypocrites. I’m saying that not only should you keep doing what you’re doing, you are going to do what you will be doing irregardless. Why? Because you have to. There’s no other way to find if there is something meaningful for you in life other than to live it and you’ll be just fine. You’ll settle. You’ll settle for reality. You’ll accept things and press on forwards in the vitality of ambition, the ambition to achieve something that you want. You’ll carve out a little microcosm for yourself in the world and look upon what you’ve made and declare, “It is good.” And you’ll be right.

April 16, 2009

She saw seesaws

She saw seesaws by the shore, sure.
She’s seen Sheen’s scene in the seen sheen.
Sheen seems steamed. She’s seen Sheen’s team see teens teem.

She sure saw sore saws by the seashore.
Sheesh or see soar sore sea storks tore the East orc’s store.
She walked on the beach pit and balked on each pitch.

Under sand, Stan’s sand stands, understand?
As she stands on sand, she seems sane. Shane seems the same. No shame on the Seine. Not Shane for the same.

Sue sees sushis shoo Sue’s seas.
She sold sea soles by the sea shoals.
So she solely sold shoal soles.

Sue’s shoes sewed shut. So sue Sue’s shoes.
She saw suitors shoot such such tutors.
Flew such tutors to the fluter, the fluter shooed Tudors to tour.
Peter Piper pied the fifer. The fifer replied, flying the pipe to fry the pauper’s paper.
The pauper replied, My paper, my paper! My paper, why us? Why must you fry my papyrus?
I did not mean to fry your papyra, nor did I mean to set Popeye’s papaya on fire.

Burning urns burn earnings.
Yearning an awning, she earned her yawning.
She took a trip on a ship’s chips.
See Cooke’s cookies ease cook keys.
East Islanders eased Highlanders.
Itsby bitsy spider spied her.
I’d eye her while Ayer dyed her.
This appearance, disappear hence.

With her gone, her argon was gone. With our ergon, how were her’s gone?
Hours of sour showers.
Sat in Cincinnati, cities in since incense.
Now the town’s sounds surround.

One day, Monday, a mundane dane’s dames deem main manes maimed.
Maine men may make crooks cook cakes.
Locke crocks clock locks with clock rocks.
To rock two woks, or to tuck two trucks?
Cockroaches watch coaches.
Coke’s cloaks croak oaks.
Motes coat most moats’ coasts coats.

Some day, Sunday, summed some daze.
A sun there, asunder, a sun there, a thunder.
One day under, shun the sunders. Then the thunder gave some wonder.

Cauchy’s couches ease ouches.
Slatter’s slanders shatter sanders.
Holy cow, Krakow concocts cacao.
Cure a sow with curacao.

Studs stutter “Shut her udders.”
Sutter sought to solder otters shut.

So much of such soot.
Shoot seats of sheet soot.
Hatshepsut shuts up Seth’s hut.

To shoot the hoop suits the soup.
Soon noon, monsoon. Moon soon, some noon.

Dirk’s shirt irks dirt.
Our elves sell our shelves.
No known gnomes moan.
Dwarve’s wharves dwarf Worf’s.
Doves of love dove troll’s troves.
Fairly fair fairies ease air lease.
White sprites spite rites.

Phone home, hone foam, roam home, Rome’s home!
She came back on camelback.
Bragged she brought a bag of broths she bought. A bunch of broths for brunches.
She had sea hags see her knees sag.
Some sons sang, some sands sung. Some suns wonder one less rung.
She saw seesaws by the shore, sure.
She said sea sheds shouldn’t be sore.
So she showed up and sewed up her store.
She lept to sleep, she slept to leap.
She sleeps sound, she’s sound asleep.

Do dream, two dreams, deemed to teem.
Tutor the fluters, seen what Sheen’s seen.
Suitors sued her, and fried a papyra.
A trip on ship’s chips, earning burning urns on fire.
Cooke’s cookies ease crooks’ keys.
Crock locks’ clocks, rock two woks.
Stud utters, stutter udders.
Dirk’s shirt flirts with fairy dairies.
The light is bereft, and the left is right.
Good norm, good might, Good morn, good night.

April 14, 2009

Being Human Being

I was thinking about the meaning of existence today because existence is the essential essence of the human condition and the fact that we can determine our own actions is what makes us different from other things in this universe of constant burning firey essences. We’re just swaying in the breeze, attracted to mass, moving with the ebb and flow, and yet we have this ability to act towards what we desire.
Then I realized we’re all just FUCKING MONKEYS that don’t know SHIT and we’ll have no impact on the vast cosmos of the universe that just keeps moving on without us. What the FUCK is Dark Matter? We have no fucking clue so we’re just goddamned at the whim of the universe to be consumed in a great collision of forces.
Of course, it’s always been that way and to accept it with courage, to venture into the unknown, to sail on towards the horizon, digging endlessly into the earth as it breaks apart underneath our fashioned tools, looking for a rare sight to be seen or a great gem of pure beauty to bring with us home for all to enjoy. You just lost the game.