drunk-dial the world! blog!

The true power of the blog is the freedom that it gives one to tell the whole world why nobody listens them. That's the rumor, at least...

For that reason; I'm not sure if one should make posts more personal, or more general.

I was comparing notes with my sweety when this subject came up, today. Does the modern non-conformity model allow for sub-par individuals? Non-conformists cannot all be Gallileo. Cannot all be Van Gogh. Cannot all be Albert Camus. Where does the non-conformist fit into the modern conceptuality?

There ARE new things under the sun. Think about all of your relatives who swore by the Bible that the End of Days was drawing nigh. They will all have died before 'doomsday' comes along. How much of my reasoning is based on these verysame 'doomsday' parameters?

Yikes! Listen to your elders. This will give you a solid watermark with which to judge the fallibility of human reason. Don't believe in anything, is my advice. Not that you care much for the advice of a distant voice, not your own.

The world that we navigate is a place made up of vast areas of grey. Religeous fanatics are the shit-eating legacy of ancestral self-slavery. Tradition? Fine. Have your tradition.

I am angry at these absurdist devotees. That is probably why I piggy-back from one anti-religeous soapbox to the next. The relentless brainwashing of intelligent youth that calls for years of deprogramming in order to bring those poor, misled youth to the next stages of reason makes me very sad. I had to go through it. The methodical reason that this sort of deprogrammig calls for is hard to come by and most of us that need to implement it are some of the most weary, hopeless bastards to have ever walked the Earth. Those of us brought up with religeous ideals are wholly un-prepared for the real world. Religeon is a sniper-rifle. The mark doesn't hear the bullet leave the chamber. Nevertheless, the damage is done.

opiate of the asses

sorry. i just get angry at things that don't exist. i'm the crazy one...
i don't really have devil's horns.
the argumentative cunts gesturing wildly on each of my shoulders do though.
wait! no! i wanna go to the picnic! aw, man....
my hell's hotter than yours!
Steven Wright: if heat rises............................. then heaven's probably hotter than hell...........

DaDadeeda

everything that i do is in a fever. my temperature never drops 'neath a hundred degrees.
all of my dreams are peppered with nightmares. all of my nightmares are fascinating and beautiful; like an injury that takes a long while to heal.
when i fall; i fall from such great heights. when i eat cerial every bite is different. when i call you... i never call you. but, i miss you.
it's been a long while since it rained here. while it's hot i think about the rain. the last time that it rained here there was a rainbow. it reminded me of the flood. the Lord was on a surfboard and he called out to me. he said, 'do not be afraid, hang ten!' and nearly a dozen crosses erupted from the sea, complete with effigies.
then, he just laughed.
i couldn't believe it.
there is a snake living in an appletree outside of my apartment. i believe everything that it tells me.
a very eloquent man with a job complains to me of his ailments. he laughs and wipes his nose all day long. i don't think that the bandages will ever come off. does he ever work?
i wish that my character were as bulletproof as a holy tome. if i were a religeon then thousands would fight and die for me every day. that would make me feel just.
holy? yeah. sure. after a few roman soldiers made an example of my self-aggrandizing ass. if my wife claimed to've been impregnated by a divine source... i'd bug her with questions until she miscarried from the strain of trying to explain the sordid impossibility of it... or the brat would come out with such a cunning grasp of rhetoric that folks would think him socrates, reborninated.
yep.

i will never fuck jesus. promise.

i am an expert at alienating my loved ones
you might try it some time
it's as easy as making soup
sousp, suop, pous, uosp, spuo, souq
q
it makes the fabric between skin and sky
so much more nothing
scandalous
filmy
delicate
sharp as a flake of obsidian
so sharp that
the blood that leaks from the cut
seems natural
normal blood

i'm stretching. i feel the sinew pull. i hear the thrum-thrum of my heartbeat in my ears. i haven't moved an inch in hours. i'm sober. everything under the sun causes cancer. i'll quit smoking cigarettes and then i'll live forever. i'll quit driving and then i'll never be in a car-accident. i've stopped eating. now i'll never get food poisining. i've quit believing. now i will never go to hell. i've stopped typing. now i'

hey.
Bane's capput.
ouch.
a late night hello to the lettered minority that may visit here:
i never meant to condescend. when i lost my mind, i didn't mean to lose you too. i dream of being wrong in ways that i can understand.
poem...
ever know a one with so fearsome a passion for others that they ended up hating themselves and illustrating poorly the dearness that they felt toward their dearest?
the media will tell you that it is hatred that makes folks commit suicide bombings, etc.
fallacious bullshit. it is love that makes a somebody destroy. it is the things that make people wish to live that helps them to justify murder.
great men die every day (every hour?) because of the abstract notion that is 'love.'
don't let them fool you. don't listen to the words that pour wholesale from the idiotbox. (TV)
every thing that has ever transpired, ugly or not, is the result of a warm bellyfull.
hate is not a lingering thing that moves folks to violence. not in my world. love. the will to preserve something that i am bonded to, and the desire to preserve it, will give me the resources to fight any battle. just or not.
love has always clouded my mind more fearsomely than hate. i do not lie awake at night wondering how to exact vengeance. i prepare for vengeance. i DO lie awake at night wondering how i might've wronged one that i hold dear. you...?
hate is like money. it only has the buying power that we give it. it's imaginary.
hate me or love me: Please don't react to the spinnings of your fancy without knowing which one you are responding to.
they say that it's a fine line. sure. fine.
how about context? i am exhausted by all of the myriad notions that cross my mind, but i don't react to all of those things in the real world until i've settled on the context.
i want world peace. is that too much to ask? is the idea of a world where outraged people take an up-close, personal look at their issues before scooping out the pussie (puss-eee) eyeball parts of their fallen foe(s), that outlandish?
i'm VERY angry. i understand rage. been there. done that. i know what it is to break somebody elses' arm. i have frothed at the mouth and fought nearly to the death. have you? wanna do it again any time soon...? it sucks.
*snap* it's more easily bearable if you're dealing with a chicken bone.
i love you because i don't know you. it's easy that way. once you're in my circle you are on deathwatch. should you threaten one of my kin... BLAH!
*herk!* sometimes i wish that i were a sociopath although i am not. it would be easier to rationalize this freakish clusterfuck of a world.
you splendid princes and princesses out there? hold on. breathe deeply. i have a feeling that your day will come soon; just not in your lifetime....

p.s.
if you are mourning, as i am, then please make an inappropriate joke about your dearly departed one as soon as possible. they, whomever they may('ve) be/been would like you to smile more. kisses!

same ol', same ol'...

anybody out there concerned more with coping with themselves than with others?
blood is thicker than water, they say. heh.
i'm working on a science project wherein i plan to walk a peculiar sort of razor's edge (Occam's?) that tests the limits of all the individuals that i interract with so that i may understand the standards of the everyman.
standards? standards of living. standards of language. standards of behavior. standards of compassion. standards of respect. standards of lenience. standards of expectation. standards of retalliation. standards of consideration. standards of patience.
where is the line that one may cross that will sever the link between one person and another?
my hypothesis is that folks will wander through a labyrinth of material expectation: the fear of any given subject in a secure role will make aformentioned subject do everything in his/her power to maintain said security.
read that a few times, to yerself if that doesn't gel...
conversely: one that relies on another without the ability to legitimately survive without that person is a parasite.
what, in human terms, separates a parasite from one lifeform that harmoniously coexists with another lifeform?
perhaps that is the line that i am trying to define through my foggy vision.
i am thinking of dad. he legitimately had no real friends long before his passing. i marveled at this when i was a kid. how could one have no pals and still live? i fear that i am slowly beginning to understand this phenomenon. i have divorced myself from society. i care only for my appetites and the well-being of my immediate relations. the more of my immediate relations that i alienate the more that i begin to realize the very realistic way that one may find themselves utterly alone, wondering why everyone else has forsaken them...
when you care only for your own appetites and the well being of your own private cohort; what is the result of your cohort letting go of you because of your appetites and the resulting behavior? ugh..............

Howdy. Oh, and, Cheese!

The laptop is back online. I don't have anything particularly interesting to disclose or fling out at y'all, but for those interested; 'hello again.'
Although.... I've been thinking about cheese quite a bit and, although I have nothing original to donate to the subject, for those of you whomever've explored this particular delicacy, there is a wealth of very interesting history recorded on the origin of what we now know as cheese.
It's been around since approx. 4,000 b.c.. According to the scholars, milk was transported in the excised bellys of calves. The lining of a calfs' belly contains rennet. Rennet is an ingredient that helps milk to coagulate. After a long day traversing the desert, perhaps, a nomad took the belly-flask to his/her lips for a draught of nourishing milk and found that a portion the milk had condensed.
The flavour wasn't unfavorable and the coagulated globules satiated hunger while the fluid that suspended the globules therein slaked thirst. Hence: Curds and whey.
Mesopotamia?
The discovery of curds and whey led to the developement of cheese. Although it was a tasty advent, the process of making safe-to-eat, delicious cheese was a hazardous one.
For a long time people equated the consumption of cheese with the realization of a deathwish.
The elements of cheese contain powerful antibacterial agents. Yogurt, in it's truest form, contains about .09% penicillin. (I could be off a bit here; do your own research...)
The problem was that folks in those days had never seen bacteria and wouldn't until the late 17th century. The antibacterial component of cheese needed time to do it's job and folks were devouring the cheese before the antibac had a chance to work it's magic.
During a period of epidemic the cost of eating milk, butter, or cheese was death. Via the Venetian senate, 1699... The same year that one Dutchman improved the microscope of his day and viewed, for the first time ever recorded, bacteria. Then, Pasteur, yadda yadda...
In multiple screenplays written by Shakespeare, if you know where to look, nasty references were made to cheese and those who ate it.
Today, a weak turn of phrase or a wimpy gesture will be referred to as, 'cheesy.'
Because I love cheese, I've always wondered where that came from. Now I do. Neat...