Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Personally, I think a party featuring midgets fucking tiny poodles while everyone enjoys a delightful concoction of doobage, drink and magic mushrooms has all the makings for a rip-dandy fiesta. I'd watch that for a dollar. Then I would further the evening's merriment by dousing them all with gasoline, setting them all on fire and shooting each guest in the nuts or hoo hoo as they try to flee the premises. It's important to impress your guests with charm and grace, after all.
I'd give even 2 whole dollars to watch a room full of retards (or ultra conservatives- either group being interchangeable) have their drinks laced with something that would cause them to lunge upon each other, gouge out each other's eyes with corkscrews while singing ""Auld Lang Syne". Of course, I will perform the videotaping and set them all on fire before I leave the premises. What a way to bring in the new year!
But what to do... what to do.
Sherlock Holmes stars Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law (in theaters now)
The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus Heath Ledger's last movie made. Terry Gilliam directs. (in theaters now-limited)
The Book of Eli Denzel Washington, Gary Oldman, Mila Kunis (comes out January 15th, 2010)
The Wolfman Benicio Del Toro, Anthony Hopkins, Emily Blunt (February 12, 2010)
Alice In Wonderland stars Johnny Depp, directed by Tim Burton. Should be freaking cool. (It comes out March 5th 2010)
Iron Man 2 stars Robert Downey Jr. and Gwyneth Paltrow (May 7 2010)
And then there's this under-hyped (so far) movie called Wonderful World that stars Matthew Broderick is scheduled to come out January 8th, 2010. I've read the basic summary of this movie and watched the clips on Yahoo and it looks appealing to me on many different levels. You can read about it, yourself, of course, by clicking the link. I especially loved the "Depraved Indifference" clip featured on the page. There's so much truth packed in that two minute, fifty second clip that's worth checking out.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Untraceable stars Diane Lane as Special Agent Jennifer Marsh and Colin Hanks as Agent Griffin Dowd. Both FBI agents are on the case of a fucking freak that gets his kicks by displaying graphic murders on his website. The name of his website is aptly named Kill With Me. This loon is very tech-savvy, unfortunately, which keeps the FBI jumping from one location to the other, in an attempt to catch this guy. The fate of each of his tormented victims is left in the hands of the public.
That last bit of info, alone, should make any NORMAL person cringe.
Moving onward: The more hits the asshole's site gets, the faster his captives die. Not that they die that quickly, really. Meanwhile, the media, knowing this fact, has zero qualms in telling the public all the details about this freak's website and his "torture show". Of course, the hits on his website go through the roof. Soon, it gets personal when Jennifer's partner is kidnapped by the seriously disturbed maniac and becomes part of his "show".
I won't go into any more details than that. I think I've already given away enough.
There are a lot of elements that make this a great movie- at least for me. For one, it's intense. A true thriller. You really keep hoping that they nab (preferably kill) this fucker before he puts on another one of his insidious shows. The acting is great. The pace is swift.
Note: The statement this movie makes about the media and the general public is very important and should not be dismissed. The truth in it's message about human behaviour is undeniable.
The scenes of cruelty don't last that long, so don't be discouraged from watching Untraceable because of that element. The torture scenes are there to make a point, unlike the Saw movies where the scenes in those movies show prolonged scenes of torture for the delight of the depraved viewer.
My advice is to definitely rent or buy Untraceable. You won't be disappointed.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Here's the basic story:
Raizo is one of the deadliest assassins in the world. Taken from the streets as a child, he was transformed into a trained killer by the Ozunu Clan, a secret society whose very existence is considered a myth. But haunted by the merciless execution of his friend by the Clan, Raizo breaks free from them...and vanishes. Now he waits, preparing to exact his revenge.
Nearly all of the "professional" movie critics said the acting was terrible- which it wasn't. The movie isn't going to garner any Academy Awards for that department but the acting was okay. The main character, Raizo, keeps the movie going strong with the torment and anger exuding from him, with the skills and pain he displays in every frame of the film. I felt pity for him for what he had to go through all his life. You'll see what I mean if you dare to check the film out (obvious sarcasm).
Be prepared for a lot of bloodletting and dead body counts in Ninja Assassin. But don't be discouraged from seeing it because of those details. It's not as gruesome as the Saw movies, all of which I consider just "torture flicks" with truly shitty acting.
Ninja Assassin is a super stylish, well orchestrated revenge film with action galore. Check it out, if you can, before it hits the rental stores. Seeing it on the big screen does the movie better justice and will be more satisfying.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
I just came back from seeing Avatar two hours ago. I'll start with that one first.
Avatar, directed by James Cameron, stars Sigourney Weaver and a couple of other well known actors. It's a sci-fi movie with that's filled with a lot of heart, action and breakthrough special effects. It's a lengthy movie (160 minutes) but you won't mind it and it certainly doesn't feel that long.
It's story is set in the year 2154. Earth's corporations are aggressively mining the planet, Pandora, where it's inhabitants, the Na'vi, live in peace and have a natural connection with the energy and spirit of their world and it's many spectacular lifeforms. The Na'vi have blue skin and cat-like features and they will likely remind you of Indians because of the way they revere nature and all of it's lifeforms. They are also fierce warriors, like the Indians of the old west.
Earth's greedy corporate head honchos and ruthless military respect nothing and they do everything from tricking the Na'vi to destroying their world and their lives in order to get the mineral they seek. Several times it is mentioned that Earth is used up, nearly dead planet- so naturally they find another planet to exploit and destroy.
The symbolism is unmistakable. The story is much like our American heritage of the old west when the military nearly wiped out the Indians. Notice that I don't say American Indians! To give them that title , I feel, shows disrespect to Indians of the past and present. America was their land long before the Europeans came along, spreading disease, death and deceit before claiming Indian land as their own.
But back to the movie. I could rant on all night on that subject.
The hero, Jake Sully, is a wheelchair bound marine from Earth. He grows to respect the Na'vi and ultimately fights for them during the second half of the movie. His avatar counterpart is strong and whole. I can't explain, with any degree of technological clarity, how the Earth scientists are able to place the minds of the Earth soldiers and scientists into their Na'vi avatar counterparts- but they do. And it's totally believable.
I loved Avatar. The story is great and has real meaning that you can connect with. The pace is swift but doesn't feel rushed at all. The acting and all round performances by everyone are well above par with any movie I've seen all year. And I've seen quite a few. The special effects are cool and extremely detailed. Best of all, the ending is fully satisfactory. You won't leave the theatre feeling like you've been cheated or beat down with any heavy-heartedness. It's not just an adventuresome, special effects filled flick. It's an event that has to be seen on the big screen.
I was blown away by Avatar and I can't wait to own the movie when it comes out on dvd.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Before, the website was, for the most part, less personal, always kind of covering up what crap I was going through at the time. But since my outlook has changed and I truly don't give a shit anymore (in a good way-for me), I'm not going to write for the entertainment of the readers, but for myself. Self therapy, if you will. Sure, there will be the funny/serious observations, pics, videos and so forth but from now on- I'm really going to get real and more brutal with the honesty- with everything and everyone, as a matter of fact. A lot of fuckers won't like what I have to say and I think you know how much I care about that.
Also, I don't care about winning any sort of popular blog contest. I notice many bloggers these days are whoring themselves out to the extreme in the social networking fray. Joining this, twittering that. Ha ha. And hey, I might do the twitter thing now and then or whatever other new and ridiculous bullshit is out there, but frankly, I don't need the attention or numbers for blog visits to give me a boner. I'm not that insecure. Personally, I think it's sad what lengths some folks will go to for fame or money, for that matter. The excuses used for it all are lamer yet.
Like I said, I'm doing the blog entirely for me now. If ya like what I got- that's fine. If not-that's fine, too.
That's it for this post. Take care.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
This and missing Mom for her unconditional love and advice started my depression. Sure, I was told by friends, co-workers and family that it wasn't my fault. But there were a few who gave no response. Which I didn't know how to take. Most of the time, I felt they were judging me. Either that or I thought they were androids from some unknown galaxy. Anyway, I felt responsible no matter how much logic was thrown at me.
So while my depression was literally killing me in health and spirit, my time on my last few jobs was pure hell for one and all. On more than a few occasions, in the middle of putting together a brake part, I would either cry or have a fit with myself. I would even talk and answer myself. What fun! It's always so nice when you have a bunch of people you know (and semi-respect) give you that look of dismay and extreme confusion. In the old days, when friends would give me that look, I would treasure it like a badge of honor. But a little over two years ago, those days had been long gone. This is what I found out.... in hard and unusual ways. I was not fit to work anywhere.
And my next two jobs, after that brake assembly job, made that judgement call all the more true.
I would throw things, yell at people, break stuff and create some type of verbal chaos now and then that would result in being reprimanded in some way. Never before had I acted so irrationally on the job. Now.... I would have a confrontation with a person or two, in the past, if I thought they were doing something wrong, but this shit was something different.
I remember pushing over twenty, ten foot high stacks of plastic crates over a catwalk type area and causing most everyone in the warehouse to shit their pants, at once. No one died, if that's what you're wondering. Twenty plus years of working hard in the retail business and warehouses and now I was having a fucking meltdown. Sing ta BuhJesus and halley-yoooo-ya!
Now here's another element to the story you should know: I have two and a half inch heel spurs in both of my goddamn feet. They have been causing me tremendous pain for most of my life. And yes, I have used every kind of cushion, foam or whatever footware contraption to help with the pain. The podiatrist I have been seeing, off and on since my early twenties, said they were the biggest he had ever seen. He still says that. I saw the x-rays. They look and feel like curved railroad spikes. The podiatrist has said both verbally and in health records that they cannot be removed due to the fact the spurs have grown so large, they have connected completely to the bones in my feet.
Little medical lesson:
Spurs are formed at the at heel by way of calcium deposits travelling down your leg. Your brain is responsible for sending a message to your feet (by way of sending these little bits of bony crap) as an attempt to somehow "protect" your damaged heel area. Unfortunately, your brain fails miserably in this scenario.
Note: I also have neuropathy of the feet. Look it up if you're curious. I'm also 80% deaf in one year and have astigmatism in both eyes. And don't forget the high blood pressure. Eight pills, two insulin shots and still counting. Have I mentioned the depression?
I'm 46, in case you're wondering.
Life is grand. Sarcasm. Yes, I know I could have it much worse but when you put everything altogether, it does make an impressive list.
But I'm not done yet.
I also have a condition called "equinus foot". Click the link if you're interested in knowing more about that. The short version is... It's a deformity of the feet. Because of my "equinus foot" condition, my heel spurs formed. When I walked or stood, I was growing spurs and suffering from them as they developed over the years. I was told long ago by my podiatrist that if he were to operate and remove my heel spurs, they would eventually grow back in a couple of years. This is why I didn't have the procedure done. Too costly and ineffective.
While my working years ached onward, my condition worsened. I was often asked by people I knew, co-workers and people I didn't know, why I wasn't trying to get social security disability. I had told them I wasn't going to try that because (1) I didn't think I would get it. And (2) I had too much pride to accept it. In my mind, you were a lazy, cheating piece of shit if you got it and you were still able to move.
But now I understand the truth.
Cutting to the chase of the story, I had become convinced that I should try to get social security benefits. It took 3 attempts, a judge on a monitor from an out-of-state web cam, an asshole for a lawyer and lots of legwork (from me) but I finally won the case after a year and eight months.
As for my physical health, I am exorcising on a Nu-Step bike/rowboat thing at the Community Center. I do 35 minutes of that, putting in close to two miles. They have an excellent compilation of exercise equipment. I also take walks, stopping occasionally, behind my apartment at a city park.
I am fighting.
I don't feel as guilty about things I've done in the past, either. In fact, I feel very non-guilty about anything I do or say anymore. I never felt like that in the past. This feeling may be a very bad thing for everyone involved. We'll see. Or, I'll see. See. Told you I was crazy.
The best piece of wisdom I had ever gotten from a psychiatrist was just recently:
Don't wonder or care how you're going to get through it. Just fight. He told me he could tell I was a fighter by three different signs. The first was: I was there, in the room, talking to him, seeking help. Two, he had me perform a test that seemed incredibly simple the first few seconds. My psychiatrist gave me five pieces of folded cardboard. Then he told me to rip them in half. It was a thick and bulky block but I thought it was going to be easy. I must have tried ripping the shit apart for five or more minutes. I was gritting my teeth. Cursing. And so on.
Then I asked him if I could unfold each piece and rip each individual piece of cardboard apart. He said, "And that's the other reason you are a fighter. You would do anything to accomplish anything you wanted. You tried brute force. That didn't work. You went at your objective at every angle. No luck. You even tried to cheat, in a manner, to reach your goal. Your passion, no matter how deep you bury it, is still there. You do not stop."
And then I knew what he meant. It hit me. Lightning bolt. Boom.
It really isn't the end result you should concentrate on. It isn't the horrible hurdles you have to go through. It's the fighting to get up in the morning and live is what matters.
There was a third sign but it had to do with a personal story of his own. Unfortunately, I could hardly understand it due to his thick foreign accent but he already had me at the second sign. Heh heh.
And now I've changed again in my life, still with some bad thoughts, but not like before. I'm still negative about this world's populace and I'm still crazy, maybe even more so, but now my depression has lessened and I'm working on getting healthier. So there you go.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Major depression and out-of-control diabetes is a real ass kicker. When you have extremely high blood sugar, an unfunny thing happens to occur. Your thinking becomes fucked. I couldn't concentrate on reading a post, let alone writing one up. Not that I didn't want to. I was angry and further depressed that part of my life was gone. At least the pressure around the temples of my head is easing up. I seriously thought I was going to have an aneurysm.
Listen.... I can hear a laugh track. Although it's inside my noggin.
Why did I let my diabetes derail my health?
Ah, that's where the Major Depression comes in.
You see, when you have that kind of downward spiralling, hopeless, helpless thing eating your spirit, the thought of merely getting out of bed in the morning or afternoon seems futile and absurd. I would stare at a ceiling, wall or at nothing at all for hours.
When a bad thought came into my head, I would scream, making the bad thought momentarily go away. The thought was usually one of guilt of something said/not said or something I did to someone else that I thought was wrong. It could have been, in reality, something trivial.
I'm sure the neighbors in the apartment below were wondering what the fuck was going on up here. They knew my wife had already gone to work. And I'm sure they knew there wasn't a 24 hour cable channel with a show featuring a screaming loon during those many months, as well.
So yeah, I did get some strange looks from the neighbors whenever I took out the trash or went to the truck.
My personal hell began when my mother passed away August 5th, 2005.
That day, my dad, who suffers from dementia, deafness and a whole host of other medical problems, came home after running errands around town. He pulled the car in the garage, closed the garage door, but accidentally left the car running. He forgets to turn off the ignition and he can't hear the car running. Dad then proceeds upstairs, sets some groceries on the counter, tells mom that he's home and then goes to bed for a nap.
Not long after that, my mom (who could hardly walk and got around the house with a mobile unit, scooter or whatever you call them) thought she ran over her cat with her "mobey". She loved cats, as do I. Pushing on- Mom gets down from the seat, onto on the kitchen floor, upset that she hurt her cat. Meanwhile, the exhaust fumes, coming up from the basement garage, are coming out of the central air vents and into the kitchen. Mom (or dad- the part of the story I can't seem to get right) calls my sister to ask her to come and look at the cat. My sister says she will after she does a couple things, not knowing mom and dad are being poisoned with carbon dioxide.
By the time my sister arrives, she walks into the kitchen, sees mom slumped on the floor, eyes rolled to the back of her head, with vomit coming out of her mouth. Her face is purple with yellow spots dotting her complexion. My sister immediately tries to get her out of the house, perform CPR and a number of things. Bear in mind, my mother was very heavy. But as she's doing all of this, she's inhaling the unscented, invisible poison, too.
During this time, my sister calls me up. I was a strong guy back then. I think I could have lifted her up and out of the house, considering the situation. But my sister has told me that mom was pretty much gone by then.
Moving on- My sister leaves a panicked, out-of-breath message on my answering machine.
Where was I during the call?
I was in the computer room, with the door closed (my youngest cat had been taking a fancy to chewing on my electric cords) and I was drinking a lot with a friend I hadn't seen for a long time. Normally, I would have the portable phone with me. Not that time. It was in the living room. Also, I was playing PC games and music so loud, I couldn't hear anything outside the door.
By the time we came out, I had heard the terrible message too late. I blamed myself for not getting up there in time. More importantly, I almost lost my entire family that night.
There are more details, such as the news media circus surrounding the house that night (the event was on the news for awhile) and the excruciating sight of the way my mom looked on the hospital bed but I won't go into those details. It's no small miracle that I'm able to tell what I'm telling now.
After the shock of her death, the guilt, deep grief and anger towards myself, God and the world took over me. My health went to absolute shit. I did not care if I died, and really, I was wanting it to happen in the hopes of being with my mom again.
To those of you who have ever lost someone you love that much, die and not exist in your life anymore, you can empathize, hopefully.
---I'm going to continue this post tomorrow. It's 2:30 in the morning. When I do continue this, I will have something positive to share.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Yeah, I know. The last post I made was in May of this year. Long time.
I got sucked into such a downward spiral, I didn't want to check on my site or my emails or any correspondence pertaining to this site. I was depleted, emotionally.
A lot has happened to me. Both in body and spirit. For one thing, my blood glucose levels with my diabetes has soared to incredibly dangerous stratospheres.
I never posted about my mother passing away, in 2005, on this site because it was too personal and too painful. Besides, I always wanted to keep things kinda light- except when I would get on my soapbox and do one of my diatribes on society, greed or whatever. Anyway, after mom passed, things changed for the worse for me and the rest of my family. I slipped into an seemingly endless and helpless existence called major depression. I couldn't work at a job without expressing my anger in some disastrous way. My mood swings were horrible.
I would have yelling fits at myself for things I had said or done in the past. Some of these things were or are perhaps exaggerated in my mind. And sometimes, I would destroy walls or doors, in the process, with my fists. That kinda hurt. When I was doing that routine, I would have suicidal thoughts with a very calm demeanor, stagnant in my state of apathy with guilt and pain consuming me.
But I'm fighting to keep alive and to care. I can't be any good to myself or my dad, who is 68 and suffers from dementia, without fighting to get up in the morning. Plus, I'm doing more things now. Maybe, in a couple more years, I'll be close to human again. Heh heh.
That old cliche "Not out of the woods yet" applies to me quite fittingly. I still return to that kind of mind hell at least once a day. Hey, that's an improvement for me! In recent years, I felt all those negative thoughts 90% of the time.
I'll be writing more about that later. Oh boy! More cheeriness to come. Promise.
But one thing I do want to add before I go to bed.... I want to come back and post on Psycho Carnival again and regularly.
Zippity doo dah.
Oh, and I plan on checkin' out the emails that I've been avoiding, on my yahoo account, since May.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
(submitted by my sister)
That was my performance art captured digitally. I call it "Happy Lucky Pig Rise Above United States Culture of Fear". I don't know if that is a good caption. You can print whatever of this that you like, or edit it.
If anyone watches some videos or does some reading about where our food comes from--not just the meat--there's some f*ckin' messed up stuff being done to fruits, vegetables & grains, too... anyway, if you think about the "lifestyle" of the average hog, is it any wonder that they could become diseased. If John Wayne Gacy heard about the conditions of a U.S. poultry "farm", he'd pull his penis from the eye-socket of his most recent victim and wag his finger in disgust.
B.T.W., I think it's so odd when I hear something about pigs eating their own poop or sleeping in it. No they don't. Maybe if they are encased in a metal cage w/ not an inch in which to move around. How many times have you ever stepped in Ginger poo? Never. And neither has he. That's because he goes out of his way to do it away from everyone because he's allowed to, um, walk. (Also, he's never licked his nethers. Granted, he can't, but I just like to mention it.) Hear about the guy in Canada who gave Swine Flu to his hogs? One of my naughty friends was musing about just how the virus might have been transmitted from the man to his piggy. Bad, bad thoughts. If I ever infect my pig w/ cooties, I will hang my head in shame. In my county that kind of news would be head-line worthy to say the least.
Her name is Chlamydia. She was a beautiful girl, she was. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Lickable rosy cheeks. Eh.... anyway.... Chlamydia was more than just a princess to the denizens of her shimmering city. They believed she was a genuine blessing. Everyone had plenty of food, shelter and entertainment. Everyone was happy and were charmed by her outward character. But what her adoring fans didn't know, was that Chlamydia had an ugly side. Her pride being her sin, the young princess often gloated to her lady servants and anyone else with ears about her bewitching beauty and charm.
At times, she would hear her servants mocking her from behind closed doors. Chlamydia would come in abruptly with the guards and have them taken into the dungeon where she would often scold them with a swift whipping. Strangely, some of ladies rather enjoyed it. But you didn't hear that from me.
One evening, Chlamydia took a secret walk into the garden area. Soon, she thought, my lover will meet me and we will be free to-
Suddenly, a creature popped out of the shrubbery. It was almost human, though it's pasty white form was covered with strange oozing sores, pustules and patchy hair on it's unclothed body. Chlamydia blinked, gripped by shock and unable to trust her sight. The hideous creature screamed, "I am the demon, Howardsternizzalameass!" Then he raised his bleeding arms, releasing a foul aroma that caused the red roses, surrounding them, to wither and die. Curious vermin went blind.
Chlamydia tried to say something that would deter the creature from attacking her, but before she could, the creature rushed at the princess, grabbed her petite waist and pushed his slimy tongue deep down her throat. An infected bubble of mucous and blood popped against her tongue. Vomit burbled up her throat as she felt his thick, lumpy tongue writhing around inside her mouth. The demon chuckled to himself, tasting her puke and relished it's flavor, sensing she previously had a meal that contained peas, onions and tomato paste.
After minutes of violating her tonsils, Howardsternizzalameass withdrew his tongue from Chlamydia's mouth and stepped back. "So how was that for ya, princess? Pretty good, huh?" asked the demon.
Chlamydia, bent over a small shrub, finished retching her supper upon the nearby lillies and paused a moment before straightening back up. The princess wiped some bile off her lips and said, "You disgust me, you sick, ugly thing!" The demon heard this and became frantic with rage. Fire shot out from his fingertips towards the ground! Wondrously, a toad appeared. The toad was also covered with many infected sores. Many were bleeding, profusely.
The toad said, "Croak." Not much, did he say after that.
The demon smiled and then announced, "This is my pet, Garydellajailbatemus. There are some in my dark realm who call him "The Producer".
Chlamydia asked, "What does it produce?"
"This," answered the demon. The demon pointed toward the nether regions of the princess. Suddenly, she felt something jumping around inside her. She moaned a bit and let loose a magical queef. Then a moment passed and the toad was gone.
Later, Chlamydia found out she had been cursed by the demon. One morning she woke to realize she had bloody, pustulating sores all over her body. The citizens, from then on, found her repulsive and not worthy of their worship. As a result, they gathered round, feasted with gusto and had a delightful festival with dancing clowns and talented musicians before burning the princess at the stake for being ugly and diseased. A few had sex with her, beforehand, just to say they did it with a princess once and then later became infected and spread the disease throughout the country and then the entire world.
And that, my friends, is the dandy end.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
The World Health Organization (WHO) has come out with the news that they're going to change the name of swine flu to something else. It seems folks around the world are panicking from all the media hype and killing off all the pigs for fear of getting the flu. Dumbasses. The brand new name for it is influenza A(H1N1). Thanks, I feel much better now.
Who knows? Maybe this swine flu really will turn out to be fatal for the masses. But until then, when I see some real numbers, I refuse to give a shit. Don't give me this 6 dead here or 1 with the sniffles there. More people than that are dying with AIDS every day.
Hey, wait a minute, we haven't had a terrorist scare in awhile. Isn't it about time for one of those? Do they still have the "color wheel" notifications? Was there ever a teal alert? I really like that color. There was a time, in the past, when I would get caught up in the media frenzy over the "big deal of the day". I'll admit it. But after the media monster has "cried wolf" far too many times over the years, you get tired of it and wise up. At least, I have.
The reasons they hype it up could be any of the following:
A) To get big ratings/make money
B) To offer a distraction from the real news that certain political and powerful organizations would have reason for the public not to see
C) Just because there is no other news so they have to hype something in order for consumers to watch and buy what the advertisers are hyping in their commercials/printed ads/propaganda.
In summary, my recommendation is to not freak out. Calm down. More importantly, when you see any news that you believe may be hyped for any of the reasons listed above, give it the finger and pride yourself on being smart enough to know better.
Monday, April 27, 2009
A few days ago, a dog named Tinker Bell was reunited with her owners after a 70-mph gust of wind picked up the six-pound Chihuahua and tossed her out of sight. Witnesses last saw the dog, airborne, heading over Dixie highway.
What a sight that must have been for onlookers. I wonder if the little scamp shouted, "Weeeeeeeeee" as it was tossed around by wind gusts, much like a hairy little kite.
Dorothy and Lavern Utley give credit to a pet psychic for guiding them on Monday to a wooded area, nearly a mile from where 8-month-old Tinker Bell had been last seen. The brown long-haired dog was dirty and hungry but otherwise OK.
A pet psychic? Uh, okay. These folks must REALLY love their pets. If Tinker Bell was hungry, they should have taken it to Taco Bell. Everyone knows Chihuahuas love Taco Bell.
The couple had set up a display Saturday at a flea market in Waterford Township, 25 miles northwest of Detroit. Tinker Bell was standing on their platform trailer when she was swept away.
Dorothy Utley told reporters that her cherished pet "just went wild" upon seeing her.
Oh, great. There's nothing better than being overwhelmed by a yipping, tiny dog that's jumping all around, stinking of God knows what. I say, toss it back in the wind.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
"No enlightened person wishes to be duped by his desires, his fantasies, his glands." Gordon W. Allport
"All coercive techniques involve, on one level or another, frightening, or threatening, or intimidating a person, so that they move into survival mode." Douglas Rushkoff
"If we understand the mechanisms and motives of the group mind, it is now possible to control and regiment the masses according to our will without their knowing it." Edward L. Bernays
"Every time you watch someone else doing something (or even starting to do something), the corresponding mirror neuron might fire in your brain..." Arleen Raymond
"I think the subject which will be of most importance politically is mass psychology....Although this science will be diligently studied, it will be rigidly confined to the governing class. The populace will not be allowed to know how its convictions were generated." Bertrand Russell
"It would not be impossible to prove with sufficient repetition and psychological understanding of the people concerned that a square is in fact a circle. They are mere words and words can be molded until they clothe ideas in disguise." - Joseph Goebbels
"We shall assume that what each man does is based not on direct and certain knowledge, but on pictures made by himself or given to him...But what is propaganda, if not the effort to alter the picture to which men respond, to substitute one social pattern for another?" - Walter Lippmann
"The notion of rational man, capable of thinking and living according to reason, of controlling his passions and living according to scientific patterns, of choosing freely between good and evil--all this seems opposed to the secret influences, the mobilizations of myths, the swift appeals to the irrational, so characteristic of propaganda." - Jacques Ellul
"There are no facts." - Michel Foucault
"You shall know the truth and the truth shall make you mad." - Aldous Huxley
Propaganda--context and definitions
"If you think about how you think, you will find your mind is made of memories, facts, and that sort of thing; you picked these up through continual reinforcement... Using a computer metaphor, your mind is hardware (the grey matter, providing you with senses, nerve endings, neurons) and software (combined from that odd core of your being that is doing the reflecting, and the material it is reflecting upon, kind of like a computer program and its data). That isn't the whole story, of course; there is an unidentified extra component, the 'wetware,' that gives you free will, volition, self-awareness. We know next to nothing about how this piece works; it appears to be an odd combination of chaotic and stochastic processes, transcending both. About the only thing we know for certain about the human mind is that we haven't even begun to utilize it to its full potential." Michael Wilson, from: "Mimetic Engineering PsyOps and Viruses for the Wetware"
Propaganda - "Systematic manipulation of public opinion, generally by the use of symbols such as flags, monuments, oratory, and publications. Modern propaganda is distinguished from other forms of communication in that it is consciously and deliberately used to influence group attitudes; all other functions are secondary. Thus, almost any attempt to sway public opinion, including lobbying, commercial advertising, and missionary work, can be broadly construed as propaganda." Columbia Encyclopedia
Propaganda - "The deliberate attempt to influence mass attitudes on controversial subjects by the use of symbols rather than force. 2. A systematic effort to persuade a body of people to support or adopt a particular product, opinion, attitude, or course of action. Propaganda and Persuasion Techniques A Guide to Identifying Manipulative Information by Virginia Stewart, M.Ed.
"Words are the new weapons, satellites the new artillery. . . . Caesar had his officers; Napoleon had his armies. I have my divisions: TV, news, magazines." -- Arch villain Elliot Carver to James Bond in Tomorrow Never Dies
"As generally understood, propaganda is opinion expressed for the purpose of influencing actions of individuals or groups... Propaganda thus differs fundamentally from scientific analysis. The propagandist tries to "put something across," good or bad. The scientist does not try to put anything across; he devotes his life to the discovery of new facts and principles. The propagandist seldom wants careful scrutiny and criticism; his object is to bring about a specific action. The scientist, on the other hand, is always prepared for and wants the most careful scrutiny and criticism of his facts and ideas. Science flourishes on criticism. Dangerous propaganda crumbles before it." Alfred McLung Lee & Elizabeth Bryant Lee, from: The Fine Art of Propaganda
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
Since I have such a damned narrow throat, it's damned hard for me to get food down my tiny gullet without turning blue in the face and passing out in my plate of sirloin. That's one of the reasons I place so much importance of a sit-down restaurant's ability to keep the drinks coming. And yeah, I chew on the same bite of food two hundred times before swallowing. I can't tell you how many times I've almost done a blue-in-the-face-head dive into my plate or vomited on the way to the restroom to the dismay of surrounding, bewildered patrons. I did puke up some orange chicken on my plate at a Chinese restaurant once. I almost felt guilty for causing some of the old ladies at the table next to us get up and leave.
But getting back to the subject I was originally rambling on about.....
The portions tonight, at the Outback, were considerably smaller than usual. That was our first shock. My wife's meal size was especially disappointing. A tiny thing of chicken and a tiny thing of BBQ ribs looked like a kid's meal. I checked the menu to make sure it was truly an adult item. It was.
Still hungry, my wife ordered a slice of peanut butter pie. She said that was really yummy.... or something like that. All I could get out of her, when I asked how the pie was, was "Mmmm. Ummerrrum." I dared not try to fork a bite from her plate because of the fondness for my hand.
The second shock came when we looked at the bill. We expected the cost to be in the 40 to 42 dollar range. And it was. No problem. But unexpected was the tip guideline at the bottom, telling patrons what they should pay, as a tip. How outlandish! How rude! I know the "waiting staff" have families to support. I understand that. But we're not going to be told how much of our hard earned money to leave as a tip. According to them, we should have left them a $6.50 tip. Sorry. It's not happening. We left them with a reasonable tip that was half of the "required" amount. They could suck on that and be happy or else.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
“The problem you experienced is no more acceptable to us than it was to you.”
“I understand your concern. What do you think would be fair?”
“Although you might not agree with my decision, I’d like to explain it so you can at least understand.”
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
For me, this great video shed excellent light on why we are like this. Do me a favor. Watch the video. Listen to it. Even if you don't agree with it, I bet it will make you think.
My opinion: If you really feel the urge to push your stink log into something mechanical or non-human, why not try a nice ripe watermelon, with a hole in it-in the privacy of your own home. After you're finished, why not give the used melon to a friend?
Not that I would do that sort of thing.
NEW YORK– A small political party angry at bonuses paid to staff of bailed out insurance giant American International Group is organizing a bus tour to the Connecticut homes of several AIG executives. "We're all mad at AIG," the Connecticut Working Families Party, a small liberal party, said on its Web site, inviting people to sign up for its "Lifestyles of the Rich and Infamous" bus tour and a rally at the company's Wilton, Connecticut, headquarters, on Saturday.
"Their executives bear a large share of the responsibility for bringing the economy to its knees, and now the same folks are getting hundreds of millions of dollars in bonuses -- at our expense," the website said.
My opinion: Don't forget to bring the napalm!
BRUSSELS - A world record in the length of a queue to a toilet was set on Sunday when 756 people lined up to a latrine in central Brussels to raise awareness for the need for clean water on World Water Day.
My opinion: I'd hate to be the last one. I would be PISSED.
HUNTINGTON BEACH, Calif. - Police are seeking a woman they said used a false identity to get breast implants and liposuction, then skipped town. Huntington Beach police said Monday that a 30-year-old woman opened a line of credit in someone else's name in September 2008 and had the procedures worth more than $12,000 performed at the Pacific Center For Plastic Surgery.
My opinion: Some women will do anything to get a man's attention (and money, eventually). I hope they catch the vain, crooked bitch and she gets her boob balloons ripped out with a rusty pair of pliers.
January 2008, London's The Sun found a practitioner of a new art form in which a design is inked, with a tattoo needle, into the sclera, which is the white part of the eyeball. That volunteer (from Canada) may well be the only daredevil, or one of a tiny number, but Oklahoma state senators were alarmed enough that they passed legislation out of committee in February to ban the practice in their state. "If we can stop ... one person from doing it, we've been successful," said Sen. Cliff Branan. An Oklahoma City tattoo artist told KSBI-TV that the law is useless, in that "common sense" will prevent the problem.
My opinion: Unfortunately, most people don't apply "common sense" to much of anything anymore. I'm waiting for eyeball piercings to come out as the latest fad. The willing participants won't complain about being blind as long as they feel trendy.
LAKELAND, Fla. - An eighth-grader was suspended from riding the school bus for three days after being accused of passing gas. The bus driver wrote on a misbehavior form that a 15-year-old teen passing gas on the bus on March 16 to make the other children laugh, creating a stench so bad that it was difficult to breathe. The bus driver handed the teen the suspension form the next day. Polk County school officials said there's no rule against flatulence, but there are rules against causing a disturbance on the bus.
My opinion: If the bus driver can't handle gagging to the point of vomiting on some kid's nasty rectal bombs, then he shouldn't have become a bus driver.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
While there, my co workers and I would pack product in kit boxes for salons, while the conveyor belt ran between the 40mph mark to a thousand (perhaps an exaggeration). If you didn't get your particular thing (shampoo, brush or whatever) in your box in time before it passed your sorry ass you would receive a hostile, verbal thrashing from the line leader, or worse yet, from the one above that position. The head honcho, herself. Nola. She had the pleasant face of a six hundred year old Shar Pei Dog. Wrinkles Ahoy, Matey!
If you happened to be daydreaming on the line about some hot babe and you also happened to be "sporting wood" or "raising the phallic flag" and Nola, happened to come out of the office and you caught sight of her, your wood would melt like butter or fall like a Oak Tree or just disappear, entirely. Poof!
I know from experience.
In one episode, during my time working there, some freak was wiping shit (his shit?) all over the men's restroom walls, stalls, floors and sinks. Most everyone agreed that it was someone that had an unhappy confrontation with Nola- which could have been anyone, actually. This Spreader of Poo made Nola very angry. It didn't really sit well with the rest of us, either. Our bathroom break times were shortened, for one thing. Plus, we were lectured by Nola every day for the next 2 weeks about the juvenile antics that we, supposed grown-ups, were not to engage in. Whoever the Crap Culprit was, he wasn't creative, in the least. He didn't spell his name or draw puppies on the walls with his poop, like some masterpieces I've seen in some gas station restrooms. But, I digress.
Nola's plan was simple and moronic. She instructed her all-too-loyal and obedient assistant, Chris, to remain stationed in the men's restroom to watch, almost 8 of the nine hours of the day, the male employees pee and poo. Of course, we were given a tiny crumb of dignity. When our backs were turned, while pissing in the urinal, Chris the Brown Noser, refrained, thankfully, from peeking over our shoulders. Good thing, too, because it was rumoured Chris might be bi-sexual. He could have been in trouble for sexual harassment if he had done any peeky boo-ing. So Chris did, as he was told, without question. For him, Nola's word was his command. Nola's reasoning behind her plan? She believed Chris would somehow get real lucky and catch some disgruntled, but apparently, non constipated imbecile, painting walls with own excrement.
Maybe the nasty bastard would be caught.... brown-handed.
Moving on in this tale....
Diligently, Chris would watch our backs while we peed and checked inside the toilet stalls, after one of us exited, for fresh shit decor on the walls and so forth.
Being the considerate guy I am, I poked fun at the somber, serious Chris whenever I entered and left the restroom. This seemed to bring about a certain amount of good cheer to everyone who heard my words of wit, during that time. For instance, I would say to Nola's assistant, "Ah, the Poo Peeper, how nice of you to watch me squirt." Chris' face remained the same, showing consternation at my jovial remark.
After all, it was the kind of job one took seriously.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
For 20 years, Dede Koswara lived and struggled with something you think you would only see in a horror flick. Covered with huge tree-like growths encasing his limbs, Dede was unable to feed himself, work and move about like a normal human being. The only income he had was made during his brief stint in a travelling freak show. Unable to touch his children and support them, Dede's life has been a life of constant struggle.
Tree Man on Discovery Channel
Be sure to check it all out and be sure to be thankful you don't have to live with tree branches growing from your arms, legs and feet.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Bully was a lovable cat, too. Everyone who knew him will miss him. He had more character and bravery than most people do.
Anyway, my sister decided to put him to sleep. He was in too much pain from all the injuries he had endured (such as losing his tail, teeth, chunks of his ears, claws and so on) over his many years. After burying him in their "pet cemetery", my dad, my friend, Jeep and I were looking at the moon and discussing the images we saw in the moon. Most people in the world claim to see either a man's face, a lady or a rabbit.
If you've seen anything besides these "classic 3", let me know.
Now here is a partial picture of a wooden door.
Now, I see the side of an orc's head. You know- orc- as in an orc from the "Lord of The Rings" movies, Dungeons & Dragons or the Warcraft games. See the big eye? The teeth? The upturned nose? The pointed ear? If you see something else, let me know.
Maybe you need a drink first.
Some people don't see images in anything- like clouds, for instance. They lack the imagination. Perhaps the logical part of their minds won't allow for it.
Many people only see around them what they want to see. Maybe they see only what fits into their agenda. I have no idea.
An example of this would be how people see you and how you see yourself. Which do you think is more important?
After checking out the moon and talking for awhile, everyone went inside the house and had some of my sister's cranberry-almond cheesecake.
I didn't think I would like it, at first, because I hate cranberries. But then, I took a bite and it was so good, I had another piece. Whoever invented this recipe, originally, created something truly pleasing for the masses.
Unlike this invention.
I guess this invention is to be employed to keep you standing upright, in case you are falling asleep and standing in a dangerous environment, such as a building construction site. This woman's hard hat would suggest this. But the rest of her suit doesn't really fit what she's modeling for. She appears to be wearing office apparel. As for myself, if I was at a busy construction site, I don't believe I could nod off with all the loud machinery and the possible heavy building parts falling all around me.But someone thought this was a good enough idea to try to market it. But how much ingenuity does it take to attach a toilet plunger to a helmet?
PERCEPTION IS EVERYTHING when it comes to the minds of the human race. It effects your opinion and the decisions you make.
Take this optical illusion, as another example. The afterimages of the complementary colors create movement in your peripheral vision as your eyes shift across the image.
I see those big wheels uh turnin'-turnin'-turnin'. I think that's from a Johnny Cash song. Now that was a guy with exceptional perception. He saw the truth of life, wrote about it and sung it for the masses. And it was pleasing.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Have you heard about the woman in Connecticut that had her face ripped off by a 200 lbs chimpanzee named Travis? Ouch. The victim was not the owner, unfortunately. The owner, a rich clueless bitch, called a friend to help her get her pet monkey under control. The friend came into the house and was attacked. Her face is destroyed, eyes put out, fingers bitten off... I think he even hurt her feelings. Policemen were so horrified by the victim’s appearance that they couldn't understand if they were looking at a man or a woman, or even determine at first if she was alive.
The stupid owner did try hard to help her friend and even urged the policemen to shoot him, but when it was all said and done she still said that he was a great pet and there's nothing wrong w/ keeping monkeys in the house.
Travis, who she maintained was an angel, had in fact often stolen her car and the cars of various neighbors. Some neighbors thought he was an interesting novelty, but many (the ones who treasured their fingers and genitals) were afraid of him. Once he bit off most of a policeman's finger when he was trying to help her to get Travis under control, but she bought her way out of that trouble. She regularly gave Travis tea laced w/ Xanax in order to calm his ass down.
St. James and LaDonna Davis—owners of another rich, childless household—also raised a monkey as a human child. They came to Herold’s defense in an interview w/ the "Today Show". They lived in California w/ their pet chimp--dressing him in people clothes and feeding him surf & turf, but eventually placed him in a nearby chimp preserve where they continued to support him w/ the thousands of dollars charged to keep him there. They visited him often. One day in 2005 they took him a birthday cake and sat outside of the monkey cages singing "Happy Birthday" to him. Out of nowhere 2 other large chimps appeared outside of their cages and went nutso. They attacked LaDonna and managed to bite off one of her fingers before St. James sacrificed lots of his body parts trying to save her. He lost much of his face, including his nose; his genitals; all of his fingers; a foot; and, chunks of butt meat.
But this couple still say that chimps are great... "they are so intelligent, so much like people, all of them have different personalities and should be judged separately, like people", etc... When pressed with the question as to why they put their chimp in a preserve years ago rather than continue to raise him at home, they reluctantly admitted that he had bitten off the fingertip of a woman who had attempted to pet him on the head, and they were no longer allowed to keep him in their home. Unmentioned was the fact that he also injured a policeman and an animal control employee, and those are just the incidents that are on record. They appeared in this interview with their lawyer, who made certain that the direction of the "discussion" never ventured into dangerous territory for her rich clients or any Eccentric Childless Rich Fuck organizations.
Ha, Ha, freakin' Ha!!!
Reminds me of these dog owners who are in denial that their dogs are dangerous. Just admit it and then keep them away from everybody else!
The fact that chimps are so intelligent and so much like people is just exactly why they shouldn't be kept as pets!!! I expect that in the long run it's cheaper to simply have a child (naturally, by adoption, or foster care). The chimps are destructive and will have to wear diapers for their whole lives (20-40 years), as opposed to a child who will only need them for a few years. Why would you want a creature in your house that can masturbate and steal your car (not to mention kill you!)? Why not pick up the first homeless person that you see and dress him in people clothes? He would appreciate the surf & turf, the drugged tea, and waking up without frost-bite. He probably wouldn't even bite off your genitals.
I think that the "Octomom" should be implanted with dozens of chimp embryos and put on a deserted island with lots of cameras running to record the outcome. That would be sweet. Seven months later, the title of the Reality show could be "Hey Baby Factory, Pick Up Your Sagging Uterus and Run For Your Life!"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2182ScwDrGI (911 call from Connecticut Chimp Owner Sandra Herold to save Friend/Victim Charla Nash. Note the initially smug attitude of the 911 dispatcher)
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21134540/vp/29256760#29256760 (Davis interview…lo-o-o-ve the attorney’s fuchsia power suit)
Submitted by Pussy Galore
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Hey, just an idea.
Ooopsie. I'm letting my psychotic side show.
And what about this Octo-Mom shit? All of this attention paid to a dumb bitch who gets off on dumpin' lil' rug rats out of her vaginal cavity. Can't we pour some cement in that overused hole between her legs? Good gravy!
Anyway, as you may have noticed, I've been gone for close to a month from my emails, my blog and everyone else's blogs. And so on. For that, I apologize.
I was going to bore you as to why I've been away. But you might get violent.
Instead, I shall tell you of a wonderful secret. Tomorrow, we are taking our cat, Mufasa, to the vet. Long-haired and full of bite, Mufasa will cheerfully take a chunk out of your hand if you gently pet her. For free, even. Mufasa's fur is heavily matted and she is so fat she can't lick her back, asshole or junk anymore. I think female cats can have junk, can't they? Hell, I don't know.
We put her on a kitty treadmill once, wearing a jogging suit. That didn't work. We feed her diet food. That doesn't work either. And I've tried chasing her, frantically, around the house while I've yelled, "Whoop! Whoop! Heeba Bah Jeeba!"
Anyhoo, we are getting her put out, to avoid injury to all involved and letting the vet's assistants have the joy of shaving her. Heh heh.
I'll take a picture of her when they're done with her and she's recouped for awhile. I'll post the picture on my next post.
And what about the nun and the alter boy? Will they ever find happiness in their one bedroom apartment? Sometimes you have to wonder.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
Sunday, February 1, 2009
In Germany, a catfish met its doom when it tried to eat a soccer ball that was floating in the river. The police in Germany, upon seeing this, were a little freaked out. Wonder why? So why in the hell would a catfish try to eat a soccer ball?
And I can't get a scrap of info on this fish. If you know name of it let me in on it. Looks like the Giant Snot ball Fish.