Lyrics

It's not that these lyrics have a special meaning for me, I just thought they were a bit clever/well delivered.

it's not the way i'm meant to be
it's just the way the operation made me

and you can tell
from the state of my room
that they let me out too soon

Both verses from the song "Girl Anachronism" (listen) by the Dresden Dolls.


They're one of those bands that I feel compelled to listen to.

Things that I generally like in music: Piano, interesting drums, girls screaming, clever lyrics, sound effects, music breaking, and unusual instruments.

The Dresden Dolls combine my first three likes in one badass package.

Gin

I can appreciate the desire for madness. I was slouching around Oglethorpe late last night, thinking about questions of my behavior, meanings, various relationships. As I rethought these old questions, I felt a growing, insistent need for answers. I realize now that all I wanted was resolution. Is this why we feel drawn to the outward/inward destruction? Is this why we drink ourselves to oblivion, let others make our decisions, find every excuse to remove all choices from our lives? Flights of madness create a blameless way to remove all options, create an artificial point of no return.

If I realize this, why do I, or anyone else, feel an urge to abolish all thought? I feel like I'm not really being clear with my thought process, but shouldn't the realization that an action is self deceptive make us avoid that action? I've been operating on the assumption that we desire deception in our lives. I really hope my assumption is proved false.

Humming

I wish I could hum better. I've got this tune running through my head, and it would sound pretty good hummed. Actually, fuck humming. What I need is a bass guitar, and the ability to play bass guitar.

Also, it would be nice if Zack wasn't going crazy.

Pills Pills Pills

Inspiration?

“The pills don’t help,” he says. “I can’t even sleep. Every night as soon as I drift off to sleep the demons come. They trap me in my bunk and I can’t move. They whisper to me, ‘The drop given was at 14 feet.’ Now what the fuck does that mean?”

- Stolen from Vice

In addition, I should really remember to write that paper. Also, I hope I end up doing that Japan study.

Unknown Armies - esque

Vin Diesel can sit on a baby's head without breaking it.

Please ruminate on the above post. Get back to me when you understand it in its' entirety. Then, ask yourself: Do you only understand the post? Have you contemplated Vin Diesel? Why is he bald?

Please send help.

Also, whiskey.

I Just Wanted Some Pancakes

Last night was interesting. Went to see Buckethead, a guy about tall Jesse's height, plays guitar with a KFC bucket on his head. He was pretty excellent, and I always appreciate a Star Wars reference. Drank a bit, a 200ml flask of Canadian whiskey I believe, though it had an unexpectadly powerful effect, which might explain all the typo's in my rough draft of this post. Then we (Zack, Geeze, and myself) drove over to the Majestic around 1ish. It's always fun in there, good people watching, especcially when you're much more drunk than you thought you were. Note to self: listen to Zack when he tells me I'm fucked up. Also, don't punch Zack's dash when bored.

My fists hurt.

Call Me Babyface

I dismantled two dolls, then glued their hands to my face. It looked pretty awesome. I won a 10 dollar Blockbuster gift certificate. Also, I found tickets to a golf match on the ground. Let me know if you like golf. Or, if you don't like golf, and just want to buy my tickets anyway. Either way, I'm too fucking sleepy to care.

I Have the Quiz Disease

I can't believe I just wasted 20 minutes taking these stupid quizes. Then, another fifteen minutes fucking around with the html until I could get the background and color correct.

Zack, Brittany - I hate you with the burning hatred of a thousand suns.

Your Power Color Is Lime Green

At Your Highest: You are adventurous, witty, and a visionary. At Your Lowest: You feel misunderstood, like you don't fit in. In Love: You have a tough exterior, but can be very dedicated. How You're Attractive: Your self-awareness and confidence lights up a room. Your Eternal Question: "What else do I need in my life?"

What's Your Power Color?

Shit, I just hate being bored.

You're an Expert Kisser

You're a kissing pro, but it's all about quality and not quantity You've perfected your kissing technique and can knock anyone's socks off And you're adaptable, giving each partner what they crave When it comes down to it, your kisses are truly unforgettable

What Kind of Kisser Are You?

Your Daddy Is Mike Tyson

What You Call Him: Big Daddy Why You Love Him: He's your sugar daddy

Who's Your Daddy?

Shit, this test discovered my secret love of Mike Tyson. I should have hidden it better, but I left all the signs open: I fight dirty, I don't like wearing shoes, and I'm always bouncing around. At least it's all out in the open now.

Slow and Steady

Your friends see you as painstaking and fussy. They see you as very cautious, extremely careful, a slow and steady plodder. It'd really surprise them if you ever did something impulsively or on the spur of the moment. They expect you to examine everything carefully from every angle and then usually decide against it.

How Do People See You?

Fucking tests. Filthy lying little pompous monkey tests. Oh, and fuck html, I can't get that shit to work, and it's time to be playing video games.

Continued Story of My Jacket

Took my awesome jacket for a test run this morning. Didn't get many strange looks on the train, though it got too hot to bother wearing a jacket by the time the bus got to Oglethorpe Station, so I'm not sure what sort of reaction jacket may provoke at school. I'm hoping for a peaceful resolution to whatever wars my jacket happens to fuel in the future.

The jacket itself was very comfortable, I ended up getting a bit warm on my walk from the apartment to Arts Center station, but the silky interior lining of the jacket did a good job shedding excess heat. Jacket itself is modular, having three modes: Full Protection, with front buttoned, and possibly collor popped during extreme winds; Activity Mode, front unbuttoned, allows for good arm swinging motion as I run, sheds heat well, can be taken off quickly if I'm grabbed from behind by angry po-lice; Invisible Mode, jacket is folded and tucked away in bookbag, allows for easy transport when the day warms up a bit, can also be used as a pillow, easy removal of jacket makes disguise simple as jacket is generally most noticeable feature of criminals.

Because of its' exemplary service, I'm awarding the jacket a capital. It shall henceforth be referred to as The Jacket.

Slightly Risque

I was lying in bed this afternoon, not reading "Crime and Punishment", trying to think of something to write about in my blog. I was going to write about the aids walk, they were passing by my apartment all afternoon. But the only thing insightful to say is a warning: Whatever you do, don't walk the against the AIDswalk tide - that means you're Pro aids.

How about condoms? Those motherfuckers confuse me every time. Not getting them on - they made us practice putting condoms on a banana in middle school sex-ed, I'm generally about 20-30 seconds time-wise, so I think I've achieved journeyman level condom use. I'm just confused about the sheer variety of condoms. What's the difference between "ribbed for her pleasure" and "sensual sensations"? Also - why won't condom makers come up with a standard size? And what about colors? Why don't all condoms glow in the dark? Wouldn't that be fucking awesome?

A Plan: At some point within the next month, I will buy a metric fuckton of condoms, try each brand on, and write short reviews.

In Defense of Monogamy

I've been reading Brett's Blog. It's generally pretty good.

One of his posts got me thinking about the dating/relationship question. It's kind of popped up in my life a bit over the last week or so, and so last night I wrote a stream of consciousness screed about relationships:

What kind of sucker goes out with someone who understands them? Have you taken a good look at yourself? You are not special, your babble is boring when you're not fucking, and any good looks you have are a temporary combination of luck and money. Have you seen your grandparents? That's what you'll look and act like in 60 years.

Now think of your partner as a mirror. When you understand them, you understand yourself. Your grandparents are miserable because they understand each other. They fucking get it. They are not special, their partner is not special, and their donation to charity has just as much moral value as Pol Put taking a living fetus out of a pregnant woman, drying it over a fire, and using it as a charm to ward off evil.

Give me monogamy and glorious blindness any day.

I guess the point that I ended up aiming for was the importance of self-deception in our lives. Think of everything we use to hide from reality: movies, sports, booze, sex, drugs, music, television...

We use these methods because they are effective. Instead of contemplating the pointlessness of the college system, or how many people died when that hurricane hit Mexico, I spent the ride home from school thinking about Decemberist lyrics. How fucking awesome is that?

Though, as I write these last few lines, I start to doubt my assertions. I may write about the self-deception thing more optimistically at a later date, after reading Neil Gaiman instead of Warren Ellis.

PS: I just reread the last paragraph of my Drrrrrunk post, and it's fucking awesome.

Drrrrrrrrrunk... 2nd Version

I’m restless, so I’m writing a bit. Think of it as taking a walk, except only applying to my brain.

I personally enjoy drinking because it gives me a bit of a vacation from the ol' brain pan. Not that I always need a vacation, but I tend to worry about certain things, like talking to people, the impression I give - all that confidence bullshit. It's not that drinking changes my personality, just that it keeps my mind too confused to worry about what I'm doing, I'm generally just watching what I do, and laughing about it half-a-second later.

Now, a certain short friend of mine, Stu, tends to spin the emotional wheel when he drinks. If he's lucky, he'll get jolly and enjoy himself. However, he generally hits the bankrupt triangle of the emotional wheel, gets a bit depressed, clams up, and ends up regretting things in the morning. I don't know why he drinks. It might make more sense when I'm sober.

I forgot that I should be writing about the meaning of Life. However, if drinking puts our mind in an “unnatural” state, and life can be defined as a “natural” state, what does it mean when you drink to escape “nature”, escape life? I don’t think the thought behind the decision to drink can be classified as escapist or suicidal, but it does imply that the inclination to escape a natural thought pattern is normal. That is, assuming anything that the majority of a population does is normal.

Things that Distract Me

Paperclips
Pins
Various caps and tops
Fast moving animals that I see in the corner of my vision
Bouncy balls
Dice
Pens
Beautiful people
Ugly people
The sky, especially when it’s blank except for a few fast moving clouds

Pillow Book

I'm going to be posting two things I wrote for a Japanese Literature assignment soon. The first is a simple list, the second is a revision of a previous post written while drunk. I'll let you know how I do on the assignment.

Weekend Blues

A theory: I am happiest around people, doing things, in motion. When I'm at school, there are many people around, a large number of them are thinking, and it's generally a good scene. When I leave school for long periods of time, like a weekend (three days in this case), I tend to become depressed and lethargic. See earlier posts made on weekends for illustrations of this phenomenon. Therefore, as long as I stay in school, I will be happy.

So... Grad school anyone?

Note about the above: This is a recently occurring phenomenon, probably happening within the last year or two. Before that, I can remember looking forward to long periods of isolation. However, since deciding to become a people person (open, friendly, personable), I find myself needing the company of other people.

Is this a good or bad change? On one hand, I know more people now, which society generally considers a good thing. On the other hand, I seem to have become a bit dependent, which I generally consider bad. I'm not sure either mode of personality changes the base amount of happiness in my life. Instead, the two modes effect the circumstances under which I feel happy. If I had experiences with drugs that artificially boosted a person's seratonen, I might compare the change I've gone through in the last few years to the change those drugs produce in a person's biology.

An alternate explanation to the original hypothesis: The weather is shitty this weekend, and that's fucking with my mood.

I needs ta get out of this funk.

Not Just a River in Egypt

Warren Ellis tells me "we live in hope". That's funny, I thought we lived in Atlanta.

Or maybe Illusion, or even downright Denial.

I Have a Catch Phrase

Repeat after me, dear reader: "I will stab you in your eyes". Try the phrase on your greatest enemy. If s/he doesn't immediately throw down, you'll know that the catch phrase has effectively intimidated them.

Other news:

Eventful Thursday, boring Friday, tricked into charity party at OU Saturday, going to see Architecture in Helsinki (a band) Sunday - they're playing at the Earl later, but you have to be 21 or older to go.

Unfortunately, though I'm 21, I only know two people of age, and neither would be down. I might wander over by myself, but I'd also have to figure out where to get $10.

Rewind back to that catch phrase for a second. I did a quick google search of the phrase, and only came up with four links. I'm pretty sure those mother fuckers stole it from me anyway.

Oh, before I forget - I walked 2 miles through the rain tonight, delivered my bike home safely. Quite invigorating.

Also, how often am I supposed to get that feeling while chatting that I should say something, but the words I'm supposed to speak completely escape me? That sentence doesn't make grammatical sense, but my basic point, that conversation is a foreign land to me, remains the same.

I Should Learn How to Cook

But doesn't that mean buying pots and pans? I knew I should have stolen my roommate's cooking stuff when I left my old place.

I think I'm going to die of malnutrition. My basic diet: Macaroni and Cheese, Poptarts, Ramen, Various Canned Soups, Rice. As you can see, my cooking skills leave a lot to be desired.

I think I'm going to do some looking around online, see what recipes I can find which only use one pot. Then, pick up some veggies at the sto', maybe even some spices if I'm feeling adventurous. Finally, combine newfound recipe knowledge and goodies in a single pot.

I will feast like a king.

Eye of the Tiger

I promised myself never to post the results of one of these tests, but Serenity (movie, imdb) was fucking badass.

Link to test.

You scored as The Operative. You are dedicated to your job and very good at what you do. You've done some very bad things, but they had to be done. You don't expect to go to heaven, but that is a sacrifice you've made for a better future for all.


Hmmm... That's a strange results. While it's true I've done some "bad things", they did not have to be done. That's why they were bad, they created unnecessary suffering. Not to say that "good" actions create happiness, but they don't hurt people.

But I've never killed anyone, so I'm on top of the game.

Ch-ch-changes

I'm going to steal Bowie's mismatched freak eyes.

So, I was sleeping (more, staying awake than sleeping, but that's for another post), and I realized I was actually cold. Not that my covers were stolen, I was fully wrapped, it's just the breeze made my nose a bit cold. Therefore, I officially declare the season to be Fall.

Feel free to burn wooden effigies. Also, Chanukah bushes.

Catching Up

I'll repost an email from Anna:

Hmm... things to need, things to need. Where is she coming to in Japan?
Exciting, the coming to Japan-ness. Umm, if it's easy for her I'd love some Swiss Miss hot chocolate. I didn't bring any, 'cause I'm stupid. I can't really think of anything else I want... Feel free to send whatever if you'd like. Oh! I'd like some anime. Some cool anime. I'll have my dad buy a thing of cd-rws or dvd-rws to give back to you, but I want anime. For instance, I've got Full Metal Alchemist already on my desktop, and I'd love to be able to finish it so the movie makes some semblance of sense when I finally see it. Also, I got the rest of Doctor Who from a friend here, so I'm watching episode 13 tonight after I buy some ice cream and mochi. SugokuAwesomeDesu. すごくAwesomeです。 Kk, I think you can e-mail my cell phone (faraebie@c.vodafone.ne.jp) but I haven't tested it yet. Also, I only have Brittany's cell phone, so if anybody else wants me to call them (for example, zack or you or stu, you're sort of collapsed as a unit in my brain memory access) I need phone numbers. Short calls, my cell phone does 54 yen / minute to the u.s. (which is weird, since it's 60 yen / minute in Japan...). Gonna go away now, I've had a lot of hot chocolate and water.

A bit of back story: this girl in my Asian Politics class is going to Japan in a week, and she offered to carry stuff for me. Let me know if you wanna send Anna anything.

Now, onto the best movie I can remember seeing this year:

Mirrormask is an interesting little film, especcially if you're a Gaiman fan. Gaiman has this habit of writing what can be described as "quest in a strange land" novels. The hero is an ordinary person transported to an unfamiliar land (Faerie in Stardust, London Below in Neverwhere, the Gods' underground network in American Gods and Ananzi Boys), who finds him/herself on a quest for some sort of McGuffin. By the end of the book, the hero usually realizes that the mcguffin isn't really important, the journey was what matters.

Mirrormask follows Gaimans usual formula, and is basically a predictable film. I think the main difference between Mirrormask and other movies (besides the trippy visuals and even trippier soundtrack) is Gaiman's writing. The dialogue is clever and really well written, the characters (and movie watchers) are treated as intelligent, and the world is obviously well developed.

The film's playing for one week only at Midtown Art, but it's worth making a special trip to see it.