| RANDOM QUOTE | Yeah, that's me, Tracer Bullet. I've got eight slugs in me. One's lead, the rest bourbon. The drink packs a wallop, and I pack a revolver. I'm a private eye.
-Calvin & Hobbes | |
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| PERSON TO PERSONALITY |  | Category: Philosophy
Thursday, June 19th, 2003 @ 11:02 pm
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People come in and out of your life constantly. Some people take their shoes off and stay awhile. These are the precious few you call friends. You have opinions of them all. They all have opinions about you. What is strange is that you have opinions about yourself that none of these people share.
When we think of people, we try to pigeon hold their personalities in tight one to two sentence cliff notes; it makes it easier to hold them in your head and factor them into the eqation of your life. While talking to them, they may seem larger than life, anthropomortphic and fluid almost to the point that you know you are. But alone, thinking to yourself, they are one dimensional kernels of personality that are easy to move around the chessboard of your vast psyche.
Conversely, you have an image of yourself in your head at all times, you force it down peoples mouths and up their ass at the same time hoping it will meet in the middle and stick. You know who you are, and you're going to make goddamned sure they know who you are. But they don't. Or do they?
Who are we really? Are we really the nebulous dynamic character that we know, or when its all said and done, are we really just the roughly sketched characiture that we know is the only thing people take away from knowing us?
I'm sure the answer lies in the bottom of a bottle of something, somewhere.
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| OBLIGITORY B-DAY POST | | Category: Philosophy
Thursday, May 15th, 2003 @ 10:22 pm
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When Brenda's birthday came up, I had a post all written down in my head and prepared to commit it to this toilet that is the internet, by way of my spledid website. All that was left to do was a little searching for a picture of someone sitting in a cake. I searched and searched, and the only one I could find was neither sexy, nor was it wittily ironic in any sense -- just plain dumb. It seemed to suck the will to post right out of me.
Now, hot on the heels of hers, my birthday approches with ramming speed, determined to knock another year off my fading virility. After I turned 18, every birthday after that seems to trigger a twinge of pain somewhere in my brain. After 21, that twinge exploded into a full blown 12 gauge shotgun blast through the mouth. You know, the kind that leaves a Rorsarch test of brain matter on the clean white tile of the bathroom wall behind you.
I feel kind of silly getting all philisophical about it though, I mean 27 is no more of a milestone then the past five or so birthdays I've had. I certainly don't feel old, nor do I act anything like my parents did at this age. My own mortality is as far from my mind as it was when I was 9. I smoke and drink and eat like I have a lifetime left to cleanse my body of its youthful decadence.
But guess what? That's how I play this game, and the next old-acting friend I have that says "we're getting old" is getting a fistful intestines yanked out their ass. YOU'RE getting old buddy, don't drag my ass down with your future planning, 4 beer maximum, den remodeling, in by midnight ass. Just because you're feeling the icy cold breath of the reaper breathing down your neck doesn't mean I'm interested in giving your misery any company, pal.
I got my plans, and they don't include what decorations to hang up for the next upcoming holiday.
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| TIME TRODDEN | | Category: Philosophy
Tuesday, January 15th, 2002 @ 12:06 am
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I know it's kind of an adolescent grade philosophical trope, but lately I can't help but wonder, "what do people do all day?" like, really... what the hell are we doing here?
Hopefully I'll be able to get it together enough in the days to pass to be able to actually get an intelligent post up, or at least a logically coherent one, but until then, think about it. Answer in the comments. Tell me- what is your purpose for being here? If you'd wake up and find me holding a gun to your head, why should you be excused from mortality right now???
So don't think of that. Think of why you keep living on a daily basis, cuz i have faith that most of ya'll ain't tappin ass of that octane regularly. Bitch at me in the comments and when I get around to unloading my great big hella post I'll address the comments I see most fit.
fags.
(Heheh, glitch and everyone else likes givin me shit bout my enter key and how it gets stuck in the down position like all I do is spank it at my terminal, but his just stuck. But I'm at his. Damn. Maybe I should go wash my hands now).
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| ON THE SUBJECT OF ANGRY JOHN | | Category: Philosophy
Saturday, November 24th, 2001 @ 10:35 pm
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This is in response to a post (actually a series of posts) by Angry John, which you can view by clicking on his picture.
Me and John (and everybody else and John) seem to always get into a "Does God Exist" debate. John's counter arguments always begin with something to the effect of, "well, its very easy to think that nothing I do matters, or that you don't care, or that God made things the way they are", etc, etc; but I'm beginning to notice a major flaw in his argument.
While Christians and Athiests alike may not like the statement, nobody knows whether God exists or not. Some say their lives are plucked from turmoil by what they "feel" as the hand of God. Some say God is a childish representation of the frailty and desperation of man; and still some say that there is no God, no way, that's just retarded. I am of the second fold, and that is where the argument heats up between me and John.
John believes there is an inherent belief of a god in humans, whether it exists or not, and my argument is that there are the "writings on the wall" for a god in humans, if you would allow my euphamism. He beleives that people, you and me, are "hard wired" to accept a god for the rights and wrongs of the world, to explain things, and form a sort of moral blueprint for how societies can advance; his main argument for this being that there has been no society that has ever sustained itself without a religion. My argument is that humans have an intelligence level that I would consider a major anomonaly. A by product of this is their need to form a structure explaining why they have this intelligence, and what they can and can't do with it. Thus, we come to a religion, or a God. Without such, we would have no maintainable structure, or "status qou", a need for which being another by product of the inherent intelligence itself.
And there is my pop philosophy, take it at face value.
And you really owe it to yourself to check this out. For window users, hit the start button, select run and type this in the text box: telnet towel.blinkenlights.nl
Linux users, I hope your know how to do what you need to accomplish this task. If you don't, then install windows, cause your a fucking moron.
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| A WEEK IS A LONG TIME | | Category: Philosophy
Monday, August 6th, 2001 @ 12:37 am
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 Well, hasn't it been a while? Let me see what's happened since my last post. Nothing. That's why I haven't posted, not that I usually post for any sort of reason.
I took a religion test online and it turns out I'm a Secular Humanist. Not that its surprising, or not that I took it to see what I was, just wanted to test it's accuracy, and I'd have to say it pretty much hit the target. Of course, its not like secular humanism is a religious sect, it would be more of a simple description.
Some of you may have noticed the site was down around thursday morning. You can thank my faithful writers from the grand state of Montucky for that little debacle. Seems one of them, I'd say Fix but Ian seems to be covering for him, added a poll with no answers. Thanks to a combination of that, and a coding retardation of my own (geeks: didn't do an EOF check before looping through the answers), the result was a glorious IE error screen about some ASP error that 99% of you all probably didn't understand.
Other than that, this weekend has been one frought with arduous, back braking physical labor. Helped hardgeus move saturday, and helped my parents shovel dirt into their front lawn sunday. Wee, fun fun, too bad it wasn't enough to sweat a couple of bags of cheetos off my ever increasing girth. Not that I have tremendous girth, you can check the photos section to get a frame of reference, but I have more girth than I'd like.
Well, that about sums it up. You gets no pr0n this time round, so suck it. As a side note, I am now the ONLY result on google for "vulva pump". Tee hee.
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