Arf Arf Arf

...

2006-07-28T16:06:00.000-07:00

wierd dream.

2006-07-02T00:26:00.000-07:00

my mom was yelling at my dad and my brothers and me, all the while i was barely paying attention and playing with a leaf with catterpillars. it was in some kind of concrete room with three walls, like a train station, and there were tracks on the other side with walls. the caterpillars were doing some wierd stuff and i realized it was molting and pretty soon it grew bigger and had eyes. it was so disgusting and i'd wanted to throw it away, but i was also curious to find out what it would become since i was so sure the next time it molted would be the last. they looked shriveled up, twitching, and so i ran out into my backyard and got violets leaves because the milkweed was all dead and drenched in cobwebs all the while my mom yelling screaming at us. she unveiled something on the wall against the railroad tracks, a long message saying why she's leaving, because she hated the carpeting company, the sofa company, how she was stuck with my dad and two second-rate children, and how we weren't so pretty in seperate cages, whatever that meant. and with tears we begged her to stay and asked when she would leave and she said the carpeting company was just way, too, much and that she had no idea, maybe a year, maybe two, maybe sooner, and that she didn't know where she would go. and because the whole place turned out to be a hotel, we went down the hallway to find the right stairs and leave, when we bumped into a man who was in a rush and directed us to a staircase just behind some very scared people and a man with a gun. immediately we realized we were in a bad place and we put our hands up all except my littlest brother who was three. he pointed his gun at us, then back at the people on the staircase and my little brother walked closer to the man and behind him there was a door to another staircase and the man pointed it at my little brother who just laughed and we were yelling then screaming at him to get behind the door which he did. i tried running in after him but stopped short when the man pointed the gun at me and he was about to shoot too when in a moment of confusion it took me a while to realize he wasnt going to kill me anymore, he'd just switched it around and was holding it against his forehead. staring at us, eyes wild and insane, sweating blood, he pulled the trigger and bam, we were running to the door to look for my brother and i caught a glimpse of the ceiling which had a red lump of what, part of a brain, except they were red and i knew they were my brains because i was the last one he'd pointed the gun to and down the stairs, the second flight, were my brothers shoes perfectly neat and down on the third, the bottom, there he was, safe and happy, still wearing that annoying grin, and we went back up to look for the right stairs again where i realized my brains were still blown out and how am i alive and moving and still thinking?we got up and where the man died there was surprisingly little blood and leaving, i asked my mom if she saw any, your know, grey matter, and she said yes, she did, and as we walked away from the scene, from behind, i watched them, watched us heading home.

Yay.

2006-07-01T13:44:00.000-07:00

Somewhere along the line, I'm happy with myself now. Except when I'm being yelled at, or something like that. I'm not a happiness generating machine. But somehow, I'm happy with myself and I love the world because everything is perfect and inperfection just is how it is and can't be any other way because it is perfect. Thinking it should be any other way makes it an imperfect thought, which is also perfect, because there's no such thing as imperfection as long as things are the way they are.

If that made sense.

I love nonsense.

I'm sorry everybody...

2006-06-21T19:27:00.000-07:00

It's just that I've been sucked into the evil vortex that is Myspace.

Oh noes.

la la la la

2006-06-18T18:59:00.000-07:00

la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la.

Guess who must've failed their math final today?

2006-06-06T09:34:00.000-07:00

I am!
Will. Am going to.
Yah.

I didn't think I'd have to study. They're all numbers, I could figure them out. Bad idea.
It's not possible to graph a hyperbola or ellipse with what they give you. I figure some guy decided to put those numbers together in a pretty picture and go "It's all in a simple formula: the top-left number's your X, the top number on the right is your Y, you multiply everything else, I put the radius here between these two other numbers, so you can easily find it, and you multiply so-and-so to get this number, which you also have to graph..."
And it got put into a textbook because it was complicated enough even for the writers themselves to not understand.

It's impossible.

I love you SHAMU

2006-05-24T17:09:00.000-07:00

Well

2006-05-21T15:00:00.000-07:00

At least I've posted for every month straight.

Like anyone's going to read this.

God.

2006-04-18T16:28:00.000-07:00

This is really a kind of touchy subject, so please don't take it personally if it's going to offend you. It's not meant to offend or target anyone, it's simply the way I think.

Well you probably don't know unless you know me at school, or even if you, you still probably don't know. The last few weeks I've been talking crap about God, thinking about the "beginning," criticising Christianity, and thinking Nine-Inch-Nailses "Heresy" was the coolest thing ever. Not that I do it anymore. But the truth is, I don't think I'll ever go back to being Christian. Nor was I really ever a Christian, even when I was singing songs about him at church. I just never really "got it," though I really admire the compassion. I understand that a solid idea of God gives people meaning and definition.

Anyway, I just realized recently that something had to have start this world, a concious being, or not. If there in fact is a God, whether he's still alive or not, he created us in our own nature. In other words, we have the ability to work and grow and improve ourselves. In a way, our minds are "godlike." Is there a limit to God's power? There certainly doesn't seem to be for our species. If we continue to keep growing and improving, might we one day match the power of God, or at least his power when he first began creating? Might we one day each create worlds of our own? This seems like something he intends - if technology is in fact a gift God gave us (not taking into account the tree in the garden of Eden).

What's my point? Just that I don't hate God and that I'm not so sure about being agaisnt the technology movement anymore.

Thanks for sludging your way through my heretic ideas. It means a lot to me.

Yay.

2006-04-15T15:38:00.000-07:00

I am now officially a hippie.

Wheeeee.

2006-04-14T18:53:00.000-07:00

I'm on... again. I'll be posting more when it's summer, regardless of wether people are still reading this or not. Anyways, I'm real happy here right now, sitting, eating from a bag of over 1 pound of gummy bears. I've never seen so much candy before at once. I'll be tie-dying stuff over break and someone left an almost-full water bottle on the desk in front of me. I like the white ones, they taste like pineapple.

Happy spring break, y'all!

I think it's all the Sharpies...

2006-04-07T17:20:00.000-07:00

People say this all the time but it's really getting hard to tell dreams from reality.

Rambling is what a blog's for.

2006-03-31T19:22:00.000-08:00

It's raining outside - I can see lightning from where I'm sitting.
I wanted to take a picture of the flowers today but my camera hasn't been touched for weeks now and won't start and is close to being announced officially dead.
This wednesday the battery in my CD player went out and I was depressed but now I'm ecstatic now that I've changed it.
Changing batteries is a lot like changing diapers.
There are a lot of moths in my house - I wonder how they got in.
My hamster has been missing since school started.
I haven't watched Lost in forever, but you just wait.
I hate philosophy.
I smile at the fact that he used to color the smoke in his bombs green.
You can't eat your cake and have it too.
I hope it's warm tomorrow. And windy. Gotta love windy.
Communism would be nice if we were all machines.
The Industrial Revolution has made us a step closer.
We're reading Romeo and Juliet in English.
Star-crossed is an awesome word.
Too hard on the brakes again - what if these brakes just give in?
I've been painting a picture this past month. I like it.
What if God's shoe spilled?
I'm not smart enough for the smart people program, but at least I'm free.
I like being free.

Cartman + Silence of the Lambs

2006-03-17T18:32:00.000-08:00

= genius.

Hey, check this out!

2006-03-12T19:22:00.000-08:00

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!

I just drew the meaning of life

2006-03-07T18:06:00.000-08:00

Sprinter is here!

2006-02-28T16:53:00.000-08:00

The snow melts. Now's the time to see where each individual dog left poo over the course of the last three months. Parking lots, roads, neighbors' lawns, even your own lawn. No property is safe. Isn't it amazing how you've managed to miss stepping in them all this time?

The meaning of love

2006-02-21T14:02:00.000-08:00

Yeah, it's kinda long. You don't have to tell me.

When you think you love a person, you only love the feeling you get when you interact with them. This is why it is so easy to be angry at a loved one. The same goes for like, hate, fear and indifference. When you love an object, you love the feeling you get from the object, but since the object is inanimate, you create the feeling you get from it. For example, the feeling you may get from an article of clothing of a deceased friend is artificial. It doesn't tell you to be sad, you subconciously decide it should make you sad. Since made-up feelings towards objects and people you don't quite know is considered unhealthy, love is unhealthy the more it has to do with the imagination. For that reason, every relationship with some distance is considered at least somewhat unhealthy because one can not possibly know everything about the relationship they are in with another person, no matter how close they are, because everyone jumps to conclusions. You and a friend are seperated with no form of communication between the two of you. You miss them more and more, and every day you think of how happy you will be when you finally see them. Meanwhile, the friend has different ideas. They move on and think "how could I have ever been friends with them?" You have no idea what they are thinking, of course, and continue to love them. Would you call this healthy? Say some while later you meet. What shape would you be when you found out that after all these years of pining, the other person feels nothing towards you? Therefore, the only "secure" connection anyone can have cannot be with another person, nor an object, which tend to break down, get lost or stolen. The only thing left is the mind. One can truly be in love with their own mind; it will always be with them, and die with them as they die. Without it, the mere idea of love could never occur - love comes within.

Of course not.

2006-02-20T02:30:00.000-08:00

Did you cry
when I tore down your sky?

Meet Piggy.

2006-02-15T17:10:00.000-08:00

He likes creamed corn, muffins, and cheddar cheese. He also likes family movies, especially ones featuring talking farm animals, and long walks on the beach. He likes children and has a four-year bachelor's degree. He likes big butts.

adopt your own virtual pet!

The Sea

2006-02-13T18:25:00.000-08:00

I was walking down the boardwalk with extra money in my pockets. I thought I'd spend it all in a candy store or on something I'd really like. In front of me, on the beach, with few people tanning and children laughing, was a little boy, looking out to sea, painting on a canvas too large for him. I went up in front of him and noticed there were tears in his eyes.

"What is wrong?" I asked him.

"It's that no one will buy my painting. I live with my baby sister and I never earn enough money to buy food to bring her. You see, no one will buy my painting."

"What is it a painting of?" I asked.

He turned it around so I could see it.

"It is a painting of my life," he said. And so it was. "Every day I add on to it, in hopes of making it better so someone will want to buy it. But every day it becomes more wretched."

My mind filled with guilt and my thoughts wandered to the money in my pocket. I could simply buy the painting, so the boy could buy food to feed himself and his sister. My hand reached to my pocket, then stopped.

I walked away, with a sad smile. I couldn't lie to the child - because I couldn't bear looking at that terrible collection of grief.

Awesome band-a-ma-jiggy

2006-02-10T16:46:00.000-08:00

Check them out. You'd think they'd be really really famous by now.

http://www.devotchka.net/mp3s.html

http://www.myspace.com/devotchkamusic

Solution to gay marriage

2006-02-08T15:58:00.000-08:00

Marriage is something considered holy, pure and traditionally between oppostite sexes. It doesn't necessarily mean you have to live together and have children together. Gays can do these things without being married, though marriage is what makes it real. If there was a religion that required people to be gay, the government would have to allow marriage for that kind of people, or they would be acting against the first amendment. Since most marriages take place in Christian churches, the priest or the person in charge should decide wether it's against their own freedom or not to marry off two gays, or it would take away from their own fredom of religion. If no one does, gays should be allowed to have their own wedding ceremonies with or without a church. It could work perfectly, with no government involvement whatsoever. Just a thing between the church and them wild crazy hooligans.

This just occured to me

2006-02-01T15:18:00.000-08:00

Why is it that schools can get sued over talking about religion (christianity or not) while the country is practically run by it?

Escape

2006-01-27T15:29:00.001-08:00

(Peel the potatoes
Boil the carrots)
i am living in my own little world
doesnt work very well
but i am working on it
ill always be building
this tree goes there
this river here
perfect place to escape
(No longer lies)
its my world
exactly how i want it
there i am God
unlike here
where every aspect is controlled
(Do your maths
Study your science)
by my subconcious
the Creator
the Beast
(Do the laundry
And hang it up)
everything i see is what it conjured up
youre fake and everything you say
(Shut your mouth)
isnt true
because its all fake
(And clean your mess)
but i wont have to worry about that
once i escape

Pet Sematary

2006-01-19T12:41:00.000-08:00

If you've been searching years and years in libraries, video stores, and even garage sales looking for a Stephen King adaptation that actually sticks to the book, Pet Sematary pretty much follows the book exactly. It's not as scary as most horror movies, which is good for those of us who hate having to cover our eyes and getting nightmares about demons jumping out of walls. Not to mention that little girl did a good job playing Ellie. The only main things different are the suicidal laundrywoman (movie), Henratty the Bull (book), and Norma Crandall (book), which don't really make that much of a difference. It doesn't have a very high rating on imdb, but it's perfect for kids to watch - as long as they don't get freaked seeing bloody faces and empty eye-sockets, they're all set.

Finally...

2006-01-15T16:30:00.000-08:00

On Tuesday I bring my instrument to school... because I'm an orchdork again!

.

2006-01-14T15:34:00.000-08:00

I remember
we used to keep
a small bunny
wild, untamed
in a box
soon enough, it died
laying on its side
strangest expression on its face
not peaceful but more
(i've seen the world and
i don't want to see no more)
like it's simply over
we poked it but it lay still
dead.
Every day I wake up I
think about that bunny
and I
(eat the poison apple)
envy it.
Some day I will
have enough of this world too
and I'll lay dead
(enough is enough)
before I wake up again
my mum won't see at first
yelling then screaming
shaking then slapping
(no more endless yapping)
until she realizes
I'm dead
and that
every poke,
every gesture of
(nothing but a deck of cards)
violence
will hurt them
more than they
will ever
hurt me
(let them sing)
I
won't
feel
a
thing.
('cos by then i'll be in hell)
(and i can't wait)

Dolphins

2006-01-09T19:41:00.000-08:00

Scientists say dolphins are about as smart as humans. If this is true, why do we have such different lifestyles? Think about it - humans think of themselves as the smartest creatures on Earth. We have a complex system of government, fastly-growing advanced technology, and complex issues that go beyond stay out of my territory.

Then why do we suffer?

Isn't it sad how we could be the smartest race, but still need such a complex system to govern ourselves and others? Is it because we intelligent beings know better than to live in freedom, or can't handle it? Why is it that our technology, which gets us out of bed in the morning, is destroying the world we know and live in?

The answer is, we have too much power, and we're killing ourselves with it.

We're so paranoid that, when a person steps out of the fence and into the type of freedom everyone secretly wants, to murder and lie and cheat, we catch them, cage them, and sit them in a deadly chair. A chair we made with our own technology capable of frying our own brains.

After all, this is the smart way - the human way.

Now let's look at dolphins. They are intelligent - they imitate noises, movements, and don't have the type of instinct to automatically see mankind as an enemy. They have no jobs, no government, or taxes. They're perfectly happy. Of course, they don't lie, and cheat and steal. Neither do they have our hands, hands capable of turning everything we touch into a weapon. They don't need them, either.

Face it, they're smarter than us.

We busy ourselves with work. A soiled suit could mean the end of your chances of getting a job, the end of your economic life, the end of your life. And all this time, they're playing, diving merrily in and out of water, free enough to soar. And they can. They haven't ruined their lives the way we have, trapping ourselves in an endless path of hardships.

Aren't we civilized?

A Question

2006-01-06T12:03:00.000-08:00

This is for people who believe there is a god. It's not meant to challenge your faith, I just really need to know. If your answer make sense, I'm seriously considering taking up religion. My question is, why does God bother telling us to be good and to go to Heaven if we're so small compared to him? Why does someone like him need to control peoples' lives by telling us how to live? Doesn't he do anything besides watch over us?

Monty Python And The Holy Grail

2006-01-02T22:31:00.000-08:00

No wonder why no one ever says anything good about the story in general.

The Regulators by Richard Bachman

2005-12-31T12:36:00.000-08:00

I'm setting up my own rating system for books:

Obscenity/graphics: *****
Story: ****
Catchy-ness: ***

An autistic boy's imagination runs wild and the whole street is in trouble. It all starts with a strange red truck turning onto Poplar Street. Just a few hours later, the street becomes a nightmare in a cartoon world only a child can dream up. The story shifts from character to character, covering everyone on the street at the time, confusing as it is. It gets easier to tell the characters apart from each other later on after the beginning, when more and more residents start to die. Then there's the Wyler household, where Audrey Wyler and eight-year old Seth Garin are fighting their own demon. The story is filled with images of blood and gore, including a woman's arm hanging off her shoulder by one squidgey noise-making ribbon of flesh. The ending is gorgeous, and making all the confusing names and gross-out worthwhile. I'm not giving it away. Read it yourself.

Oversocialization

2005-12-26T14:27:00.000-08:00

Bush isn't the best president. Everyone knows that.

The day he was inaugurated in 2000, protesters stood in Washington, shouting "Hail to the thief, our commander in chief!" Cindy Sheehan stood in front of his ranch along with hundreds of other protesters. People everywhere watch him closely, waiting for him to make a mistake.

Things are now different from the way it was forty years ago. Before the Vietnam War, presidents and government officials were treated with respect. As the draft continued sending the country's children overseas and the number of casualties mounted, college students, along with thousands of others, realized the possibility the government could be wrong and started protesting.

Today, everybody does it. In fact, it's now "cool" to hate the president, wether you really have reasons to back yourself up, or are doing it because everyone else is (and because Green Day told you to). Everywhere you look, there's photoshopped images of his face on monkeys' bodies, doing cocaine, next to obscene words and graphics, and even worse, in Nazi uniforms.

The thing is, have they gone too far?

The president is a person, too, and he is honestly doing what he thinks is right. No, he's not the devil. No, he's not the senseless sold murderer you make him out to be. And no, he hasn't experienced the dangerous life of a soldier, or losing a child overseas. But the difference between now and then is that soldiers today willingly give their own lives to fight in the war. One could call it a dumb decision, and one could call our soldiers dumb, but protesters already made the decision not to fight, and there's no reason they should decide for others, especially if their own opinions are in opposition to others.'

I'm done protesting the war. It's extremely one-sided. The soldiers can either get themselves killed or save Iraq - it's their life. If they chose to, they could leave the spots empty, leaving the country with no army. But they don't, and that's fine with me.

These people aren't the real enemy here. The real enemy is being classified as one country. A foreign leader who hates the idea of our soldiers invading Iraq can decide to bomb an important military center - and kill hundreds of anti-war protesters as well as immigrants from their own country. As long as unwilling people are put in a group they don't share hearts and minds with, there is no peace.

World peace is possible. The government has muddied the chances.

I always though it was Godzilla who climbed the Empire State

2005-12-24T17:05:00.000-08:00

*spoiler alert

Pete Jackson makes the best CGI creatures. I bet he loved making Shelob and Heavenly Creatures. I just saw King Kong today. It was wicked, especially with all the dinosaur fight scenes, like where all the "longnecks" (sorry about my speaking in Land Before Time, I don't know what they're called) were practically rolling down that crevice like drunks, away from the egg-stealers. And the showdown between King Kong and all the sharpteeth. And I liked how Andy Serkis' head was swallowed up by the giant leech. That was cooler than ... (dare I say it?) Revenge of the Sith.

The Old Spiderman Show

2005-12-22T03:06:00.000-08:00

Who remembers watching that show in the 1990's? I used to watch it all the time when I was around 7 and 8. I never took it seriously, like the people who talk about it being the best comicbook remake cartoon, but it had me hooked. Every day, Spiderman would battle the Green Goblin, Hobgoblin, Venom, that water dude, and hundreds of others, all while keeping his identity hidden from the rest of the world. It never got boring, like Power Rangers eventually became. He didn't fight similar monsters every day just to win at the end of every episode. Usually, like in comics, there'd be multi-part episodes, like when he became Venom, or that time he shot four extra arms and started slowly morphing into an overgrown spider, or when his girlfriend Mary-Jane found out she had once died and was brought back to life, with water-blasting powers, just so she could live with the water dude.

These episodes were memorable, and should've kept on going. And I don't see why not. According to here, it was a pretty successful show, until FOX uneccesarily cancelled it. Up to now, not even the live-action Spiderman and Spiderman II could live up to John Semper's version.

Screw FOX.

Violent Macabre of the Toys

2005-12-19T18:32:00.000-08:00

The toys came to life.

Janey knew it wasn't a good thing, things were horribly, horribly wrong - she desperately prayed it was just a dream, but she couldn't escape them.

"Hello, Janey," Cheery the Bear said, "We're gonna eat you up!"

"You can't escape us," Floppity the Easter Bunny smiled. Left of her was her boyfriend, Hippity. They smiled at her viciously, others joining in. All around her, action figures, beanie-babies, and stuffed animals stared at her. Janey had been browsing the encyclopedia the other day and came across the horrible subject of the Donner Party. It frightened her to think people would eat members of their own family to stay alive. In her mind she could see their expressions; blank; cold; and murderous. These animals and dolls all wore the same expression, all except for one.

Pounce the Kitty-Cat was snuggled in the crook of her elbow, like always. Pounce the Kitty-Cat was dead.

"Please, please don't." She tried to tell them, but all that came out was a barely audible whimper.

"This is for the time you ripped my arm on the swing," Bobby the Bear sneered. He held up his yellow-sunshine paws and pulled at Janey's hair.

It didn't hurt, but Janey started crying nonetheless. "Quit it," she told him, her face muffled in Pounce's fur.

Pounce wouldn't've hurt her, she thought, if Pounce were alive. She was the sweetest kitty there could ever be. It was true; Janey imagined it that way. Her face pressed deeper into the limp and lifeless brown toy, its eyes forever blank and murky. Janey's best friend Lilla had gotten her the beanie-baby the day Janey turned four. Two weeks later, Lilla died in a car crash. After that, Janey took Pouncey everywhere, and saw Lilla every time she looked in Pounce's eyes.

But Pounce was now dead.

Don't listen to them, Pounce would've been saying, Things'll get better." But dead things can't talk.

"This is for leaving me out in the rain!" Natalie-doll screamed and bit her arm. It felt like a rug-burn, but Janey didn't dare to move.

"And dropping me on the floor all one hundred eighty three times!" Blue Ranger kicked the top of her head. Raindrops falling on my head. Others began to join him. Janey hugged the lifeless Kitty-Cat tighter.

She was alone, in her room, with a whole army of toys attacking her. It was dark, but the purplish glow from the night sky made it possible to tell which bunny was Hippity and which was Floppity (pink and green, the colours of Spring, she once made up herself). Mommy and Daddy were down the hall, she didn't want to risk yelling for them, not if there was a chance they wouldn't even wake up. She couldn't even count on herself to raise her voice higher than a whisper. She was trapped under her own covers, hiding her face in what might as well be a piece of shaggy carpet.

The carpet stared back at her with blank, unforgiving eyes.

It hadn't been long. In fact, it seemed like just yesterday when Janey had been running through the park, with the Kitty sitting in her pocket. When she stowed Pounce in her backpack the first day of kindergarten. The day she searched everywhere for her lost toy, staying up past midnight looking for it, only to find her "sweetest kitty in the world" in the drying machine, most of the fur worn off, eyes grey and murky, seeming to say "you did this to me." Janey didn't want to look at it, it terrified her to see her bestest friend cold, and wet, filled with accusation for her. But she couldn't throw it away, either. Lilla was in there. Inside the natty fur, the cold hateful eyes, her angel.

"You muddied my fur with your tea!" Heart, the once-cotton-white bunny shouted.

"And my wedding-gown!" Barbie added. A few other animals and dolls she often played Tea-Party with agreed. They kicked her, pulled her hair, and pinched her. She tried not to move.

More and more joined in. Janey could feel the beans inside the dead beanie-baby pressed harder and harder against her face. If she could see herself in the mirror, she'd be facing a girl whose face was so full of little pits anyone else would have thought she was hideously deformed. They kept hurting her, like a mass of rioters catching their enemy at its weak point.

Harder.

Oh Lilla where are you where are you, come out,

Harder.

come out, please, I need you . . .

One of them, an action figure, stood at her forehead. It held something sharp. A needle; it glinted in the dark. It held it up over its head, threatening to bring it down.

Higher.

(harder)

The figure froze, at its potential height. Janey waited for the blow. Something in her mind told her she wasn't going to last this night. Somehow, the needle would find the right place.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a small plastic arm coming down.

Before she knew it she thrust the useless rug in front of her. No angel was coming out. Quit fooling yourself.

The needle was thrust into the fabric, and kept ripping deeper. In an instant the worthless brown shab-rat that was once given to her as a birthday present tore apart. Hundreds of small, white beads poured out like sand in an hourglass. All over her bed, her pajamas, filling up the darkness with their shining radiance.This is what they're filled with, she thought, they're like little pearls. And suddenly realized something else.

The toys went back to sleep.

The evil little creatures that had just been pulling her hair, just scratching her arms, biting her fingers, burning her skin, were lying still, all of them, like the innocent dolls and bears they always were during playtime at any given afternoon. Just toys.

Infinity

2005-12-15T15:30:00.000-08:00

"The greatest mystery the universe offers is not life but Size. Size encompasses life, and the Tower encompasses Size. The child, who is most at home with wonder, says: Daddy, what is above the sky? And the father says: The darkness of space. The child: What is beyond space? The father: The galaxy. The child: Beyond the galaxy? The father: Another galaxy. The child: Beyond the other galaxies? The father: No one knows.

You see? Size defeats us. For the fish, the lake in which he lives is the universe. What does the fish think when he is jerked up by the mouth through the silver limits of experience and into a new universe where air drowns him and the light is blue madness? Where huge bipeds with no gills stuff it into a suffocating box and cover it with wet weeds to die?

Or one might take the point of a pencil and magnify it. One reaches the point where a stunning realization strikes home: The pencil point is not solid; it is composed of atoms which whirl and revolve like a trillion demon planets. What seems solid to us is actually only a loose net held together by gravitation. Shrunk to the correct size, the distances between these atoms might become leagues, gulfs, aeons. The atoms themselves are composed of nuclei and revolving protons and electrons. One may step down further to subatomic particles. And then to what? Tachyons? Nothing? Of course not. Everything in the universe denies nothing; to suggest conclusions to things is one impossibility.

If you fell outward to the limit of the universe, would you find a board fence and signs reading DEAD END? No. You might find something hard and rounded, as the chick must see the egg from the inside. And if you should peck through that shell, what great and torrential light might shine through your hole at the end of space? Might you look through and discover our entire universe is but part of one atom on a blade of grass? Might you be forced to think that by burning a twig you incinerate an eternity of eternities? That existence rises not to one infinite but to an infinity of them?

Perhaps you saw what place our universe plays in the scheme of things - as an atom in a blade of grass. Could it be that everything we can percieve, from the infinitesimal virus to the distant Horsehead Nebula, is contained in one blade of grass . . . a blade that may have existed for only a day or two in an alien time-flow? What if that blade should be cut off by a scythe? When it began to die, would the rot seep into our own universe and our own lives, turning everything yellow and brown and desiccated? Perhaps it's already begun to happen. We say the world has moved on; maybe we really mean that it has begun to dry up.

Think of how small such a concept of things makes us, gunslinger! If a God watches over it all, does He actually mete out justice for a race of gnats among an infinitude of races of gnats? Does his eye see the sparrow fall when the sparrow is less than a speck of hydrogen floating disconnected in the depth of space? And if He does see . . . what must the nature of such a God be? Where does He live? How is it possible to live beyond infinity?

Imagine the sand of the Mohaine Desert, which you crossed to find me, and imagine a trillion universes - not worlds but universes - encapsulated in each grain of that desert; and within each universe an infinity of others. We tower over these universes from our pitiful grass vantage point; with one swing of your boot you may knock a billion billion worlds flying off into darkness, in a chain never to be completed.

Size, gunslinger . . . Size. . . .

Yet suppose further. Suppose that all worlds, all universes, met in a single nexus, a single pylon, a Tower. A stairway, perhaps, to the God-head itself. Would you dare, gunslinger? Could it be that somewhere above all of endless reality, there exists a Room . . . ?"

-Stephen King, in The Gunslinger

Quick!

2005-12-12T17:24:00.000-08:00

Name all the people in the picture! Cheating is allowed.

Gossameres

2005-12-10T16:59:00.000-08:00

It's strange
how
cobwebs can mean
dust
emptiness
and
gross-out
when in truth
they're
art

Those ads with games in them

2005-12-08T02:58:00.000-08:00

These ads keep getting wierder and wierder. They used to be things like "Squash the cockroach and win a free iPod." Now there's everything from "Shoot down the army guys" to "Plant a kiss on Brad Pitt" to "Knock down Osama Bin Laden" and "Shoot the annoying cell-phone guy." It's like you want to play the game, but you also don't want the annoying "WINNER" window to pop up. What'll be easier for everyone is if they had a page full of free games like these that flash subliminal messages like "GET AN IPOD" randomly throughout the game. Customers guaranteed, with no obligation.

The Regulators

2005-12-05T16:43:00.000-08:00

I just thought I'd share that picture. It's on the back cover of The Regulators by Richard Bachman. I haven't started it but I'd just like to share how cool the cover looks. That is all.

Shoetrack

2005-12-02T16:45:00.000-08:00

It was November 14th, the rainiest day of the year. From everywhere, even hidden with your face under the bedcovers, you could hear the raindrops patter hardly on the cement walk. Everywhere that wasn't cement was quickly turned into mud.

The sand in the playground turned into muck, and the children learned quickly not to play there. Instead they sat at home, crouched up, arms wrapped around their knees and staring out the window, singing "rain, rain, go away, come again another day..." to themselves. No one wanted to be naughty and get their clothes dirty and be scolded by mommy about how much your jeans cost and how long it takes to wash the grime out.

Outside, a boy sat swinging alone in the playground.

It had been a cold cloudy day, when, unexpectedly, the sky burst out raining like the first bout of the black plague. Mikey, six years old, didn't give a "rat's ol' ass." He kept swinging on the playground swings - his playground swings higher and higher. It didn't matter to him that other kids, even the big 'ol fifth graders, called him the Swing Hog, it only made it all the more his.

School was already out, and the rest of the kids had left, eager to get out
of the rain. Mikey was the only one in the playground. He didn't really care, he just didn't want to go home. Daddy had been yelling a lot lately, which made both him and mommy cry. "Feeling like shit," she'd say. He understood that Mommy had it worse. She was going to have a baby, which made her moody all the time. "All the fucking time," his dad would mutter under his breath every now and then.

He sat on the seat, swinging higher and higher every time. He wondered what to do once he got home again. Maybe he'd take Dad's wallet and run far, far away. Higher the swing went. He'd take Mommy and the baby with him, of course. Where to? The market of course. People offered samples all the time. They would never go hungry. Higher. Tears ran down his eyes, mixing in with the rain. "You stink like fucking shit" he whispered, as if those words were sacred, all he needed to get by in life.

Whack

Before he knew it, Mikey fell off the swing and landed face first in the mud. His back throbbed with pain. At first he thought God was angry at him for the bad words and decided to spank him. Mommy and Daddy said those words, and they were always sad. Then he thought it must be Daddy, returning home from a days work and "pissed like hell." He turned around.

The man standing there was glaring at him like the sun beating down on snow. He was old, but not too old. Around fifty, he thought. Under the bright yellow umbrella, the head underneath had no hair on top. His nose was crooked, like a bird's. The man stood tall, like a police officer, and even had a shiny badge pinned on his black suit. In his hands was a baseball bat.

Mikey was scared, but also angry. That man had no right to hit him off the swings like that. the officer just raised his arm and pointed to the left. Mikey's left. Towards home. His angry eyes seemed to wildly suggest "Go home, Mikey. Go home." There was something unsettling in the air, the rain around them seemed to have gotten ten degrees colder.

Mikey glared back at him, thinking "I hate my home." It was something adults couldn't understand if he said it out loud. Just a ridiculous sentence kids say to let their angries out. No real meaning. He found himself desperately hoping the man could read his thoughts, understanding him, knowing it was true. The strange man stood there, frozen, still pointing towards the little pit of doom Mikey learned to call "home."

Suddenly, with a flash of lightning, a vivid image appeared in Mikey's head. He closed his eyes, the flash hurt horribly. He looked back at the officer, who looked exactly the same as he had a second ago. Mikey, now terrified, nodded and got up out of the mud.

"I won't." He whispered as he ran turned and ran away. The policeman was there, he knew, but he didn't turn back.

Ten feet away, Mikey heard the soft voice whispering, almost crooning, as clear as day. "Murrrderer. . . ." Mikey's shoe got stuck in the mud. Trying to keep his foot in, he violently tugged it out. It was now covered entirely with black mud. He kept running.

Home wasn't very far. Once there, he shrugged off his jacket and took off his shoes. They would have to be washed later. Mommy was knitting on the couch. Daddy was in the garage, tinkering with his power tools. He didn't care. Daddy could drill up his own brain, for all he cared. In fact, he preferred it that way. He hugged Mommy as tight as he possibly could. He could feel what felt like the baby, kicking its tiny feet into Mommy. He hugged her harder.

He wasn't going to kill her, he assured himself. He loved her. If anyone, just Daddy was going to lie on that floor, covered, and choking in his own blood. Daddy, and Daddy alone deserved it. And when that happened, Mikey would hack his heart out. Daddy alone deserved it.

Back outside, the school play-yard was empty. Rain kept pouring, over everything, splashing the play equipment with mud. It covered everything. Everything except for a deep shoe track haunted with the word "murderer."

Godzilla vs. Batman

2005-11-29T21:18:00.000-08:00

Godzilla could swallow Batman alive.

Veggie Burgers

2005-11-28T16:20:00.000-08:00

We went to Burger King today after going to the dentist today. Normally, we'd go to McDonalds, but those Star Wars toys are too cool to miss. Besides that, I heard somewhere that Burger King offers vegetarian meals. My brothers got a Luke Skywalker top and a Bail Organa light thing that has a laser shaped like Yoda.
I ordered a veggie burger. I think the lady said it was tofu, or something like that. It looks like an ordinary beef patty, but it's chunkier, and has chunks of what I think are veggies laced in. Just like fruitcake. It's actually not bad, in a chunky veggie sorta way.
Burger King is way awesome.

South Park

2005-11-27T15:42:00.000-08:00

I just saw an episode on Friday. It was about this guy named David Blaine who brainwashed people and started a new religion. The one kid with the red and blue hat realized it and asked Jesus for help. Jesus called on the "Super Best Friends," Buddha, Krishna, Mohammed, Lao Tzu, Joseph Smith, and Seaman for help. It was awesome because they were like the Power Rangers, and they even had the big projected face named Moses.

Jesus: The miracle I'm most famous for is turning water into wine.
Stan: Can you do it agian?
Jesus: Very well. I shall perform the miracle. Behold. Here you can see ordinary water, clear, clean. Okay now, turn around. [Stan looks at Jesus quizzically. Jesus is now holding the pitcher] Er, nuh, tur- turn around. [Stan turns away and Jesus quickly switches pitchers] Uh, okay now, turn back. [Stan turns back] It is now wine!
Stan: That's it? That's how you did that trick?
Jesus: Wuh well, yeah.
Stan: That trick sucks, Jesus.
Jesus: Oh. Well, I guess it worked a little better on people 2000 years ago.

Jesus: We need to know how to kill a giant stone Abraham Lincoln.
Moses: ...Um... Let me think, um... a giant stone John Wilkes Booth?

Blaine: Then I guess you win this time, Super Best Fools! But I'll be back! [fires up the little rocket ship and takes off into the sky]
Jesus: Goddamnit! [behind him and the other Super Best Friends is a city in ruins]
Buddha: It's alright. Everything is as it should be.
Jesus: Oh, shut up, Buddha!

Double Negatives

2005-11-24T18:36:00.000-08:00

If you have a double negative in terms of numbers, you just have the same a smaller number. For example, negative three doubled is negative six, not zero. With words though, you just get "zero" or sometimes a positive. In that case, is there a name out there that works for both?

Let the turkeys run wild and free

2005-11-22T18:46:00.000-08:00

We have wild turkeys living around in our state. I've seen only one in fifth grade, and it was at a wildlife park. There's a whole yard of caged turkeys in our city they're selling for thanksgiving. Wouldn't it be better if we just let them free? When's the last time anyone's seen a turkey in their backyard? If I were a turkey, I'd rather run around in the woods before I got shot, instead of being penned up in a crowded cage with bunches of other turkeys before I got shot. It's just way more fun.

8 Truths and 2 lies

2005-11-20T21:21:00.000-08:00

Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator did it on his blog, and I thought it looked fun. Like he said, plagiary is the sincerest form of flattery. Here are eight facts about me and two lies. Try and guess which ones are fake:

* I didn't seen The Fellowship until three years after it came out

* I have never been to Disneyworld.

* I have a C or higher in every class.

* I have lived in four apartments.

* I like caterpillars.

* My favorite book is Hearts In Atlantis.

* I have a jar full of pennies I'm saving for college.

* The first Star Wars movie I ever saw was Return of the Jedi.

* I am planning to go vegan.

* The first movie I ever saw was Babe: Pig in the City.

Jennifer

2005-11-16T17:38:00.000-08:00

How many people in the world can you think of whose names are Jennifer? They have to be real people though. I can only think of six right now.

Something fun to do when you're bored

2005-11-15T19:28:00.000-08:00

Bob thought of steroids the same way a normal housekeeper would think of missing keys. They were never there when you need one. Today was like that. He couldn't find his pills, and he was broke. How was he supposed to get anything with a pocket of quarters?
He wandered the streets. He hated the idea of having to beg again - they were always looking at him like an old dog, they eyed him with pity, but mostly scorn. But if that was what he'd have to do to get some shizzy, he would beg until the stars cried.
He walked down the Bentley Avenue, hoping to see some old granny, or a depressed-looking man who seemed to be in a mid-life crisis. Those were the easier targets. What caught his eye was a banana.
Not just any banana, it spoke the most wonderful words on earth. "Bentley Casino, where destiny meets fortune and fame!" Of course, it was only an advertiser in a banana suit, and Bob knew that. But the casino was right in front of him. Thinking of the money he would make, Bob ran in.
The slot machine was the first thing he noticed. It was an enormous monster of a machine, with little fruit painted on the slots. Bob counted as he put in his quarters.
"One, two, three, four, six..."
Bob had never finished grammar school. He never learned to count by twos, and tie his shoes - all the junk little five-year olds skipped home reciting to their parents. Bob had been a hobo almost his entire life.
When he had finished his eleventh (or fourteenth, he would say), he pulled down the slot. The little fruits on the three slots began spinning, making blurs that seemed to turn into the color of puke.
Cherry.
It wasn't Bob's parents' fault for his lack of education. It was all a silly little mistake he had made on his own at six, when he picked up an issue of TV Guide. The Sesame Street Movie was going to be on. His mom was going to tape it. Bobby hated it. So he ran.
Cherry.
You see, Bobby ran far, far away from home. He thought the scary, scary muppets, how Cookie Monster would gobble him up, how Snuffy the Elephant would squash him, and how Oscar the Grouch would pull Bobby into the bottomless garbage can he lived in. He despaired over the thought of how they would pull him into the screen, far, far from home, and into a small alley filled with monsters.
Cherry.
Bright red lights began flashing on and off as Bob came to the realization that he had won. A crowd gathered around him. He watched as money began piling up in front of him. For a moment, it didn't even occur to him what he would spend it on. Steroids in money form kept falling, and he would've been happy if some dumb jerk hit him on the head with a rock and a sling.
He was free.

Try to make a story using all of these five words. Then send it to fivewords1@yahoo.com and the author of the blog might put it up on www.fivewordtales.blogspot.com
-Steroids
-Slot Machine
-TV Guide
-Despair
-Sling

something I don't get

2005-11-14T16:36:00.000-08:00

What I don't get is why people would sacrifice themselves in a war that can be avoided. I respect them for having a big heart and protecting its people, but I still don't see the reasoning behind it. If world leaders have problems with each other, they should resolve it on their own, not see whose army could kick whose army's butts. I think the army on both sides (U.S. and Iraq) should just not fight, so the leaders get madder and madder, but they're the only ones angry at each other, and the rest of the world would be in peace.

"Good authors borrow, great authors steal."

2005-11-13T13:31:00.000-08:00

I never really understood that quote. Does it mean they steal from other works, or life experiences around them, or something else? In Secret Window, Secret Garden, Stephen King says:

"Don't these people know there are only about five really good stories, and writers just tell them over and over, with different characters? Mort himself believed there were at least six stories: success; failure; love and loss; revenge; mistaken identity; the search for a higher power, be it God or the devil."

I know how that works, but I wouldn't consider it stealing. Someone could write a story without ever experiencing them. It probably wouldn't be a great story, but someone could, if they made it all up in their head.

Cold

2005-11-12T03:14:00.000-08:00

Why fly south when you can peel off another animal's skin? Saves them the trouble, too.

Asian invasion!!!!!

2005-11-10T16:15:00.000-08:00

It's teh azn invasion!!!!111
Vook and Yuk and darth C all the way, boys....
they so hott

...

So, this is not Joo]lz..... or woho..... or... moobaggins.
Yeah.
gggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg
tttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttootle-oo
pringles, baby

Research

2005-11-09T16:58:00.000-08:00

It took me forever to research the Vietnam War last night. I had to do it for a speech, which I wasn't ready for, and thankfully, it got moved to tomorrow. Anyway, the internet's supposed to make finding information easier, not have a whole ton of complicated words jumbled into big sentences. People shouldn't make it harder than it already is. So if anyone wants to learn about the Vietnam War, learn about it here.

*Vietnam has an election to clean itself up.
*Eisenhower doesn't like the Communists.
*Eisenhower says it out loud.
*Eisenhower starts a South Vietnam revolution.
*There's a war.
*3 more presidents.
*People around the world unhappy with United States' involvement.
*United States and North Vietnam agree to quit fighting.
*South Vietnam keeps fighting North Vietnam, later surrenders.
*Vietnam is now in poverty.

See, doesn't that make everything a lot easier?

...........

2005-11-08T15:18:00.000-08:00

They arrange you life for you, telling you that you can't be trusted to make your own decisions, even when their ideas for your life aren't necessarily what you want. Of course, they have complete power over you, you ungrateful beast. Humor them; sign up for their little programs, you're still in debt. You'll always be.
They need your signature, do everything to get your hand and that pen to write the most horrible thing they gave you. Threats, violence, stories of how kids end up as hoboes, everything until they finally make you some false bribe. Anything to get you to do what we want. We'll let you back out. We understand it's your life. Just try it out. And don't screw up.
Well guess what? You fail. They say it's your thing, but unfortunately, you're not very good at it. You're nothing but a failure, and they half expected it. In fact, they knew it. And they yell at you, and take everything away, one by one. Puppy-dog => dead. Rainbow => smushed. When you can't take it and bring up that old promise, it never existed. There was no freaking promise. You're stuck in a web of lies. It only looks like an E, it's actually a B. I'm not high, no, really. Everything's just dandy.
And they know it.

Well you know what? Being a hobo can't possibly be much worse.

What's the last thing you stuck up your nose?

2005-11-07T16:33:00.000-08:00

The last thing I've stuck up my nose is probably an eraser of a pencil or maybe a pen. I don't remember...

EeEeEe!!!

2005-11-06T20:53:00.000-08:00

I just saw The Fellowship of the Ring for the twentieth time today. Tomorrow is National They-Showed-The-First-Half-Of-The-Fellowship-On-The-WB-20 Day, and also the anniversary for when I first saw it last year, so I'll be watching the first half again tomorrow, then the second half Tuesday, on They-Showed-The-Second-Half-Of-The-Fellowship-On-The-WB-20 Day.

Check this out:

Can anyone tell what's wrong?

Massacre

2005-11-05T20:20:00.000-08:00

Shameless slaughtering of
women and children dead
wrong we see our mistake

Kill the unarmed and
it's a crime
unless of course they're ours

Our family don't matter it's
The cure
that counts

The brownshirts and
the communists and the nightriders
and the vigilantes

Kill em all and
shoot em dead and
go back to your routine

Get the pigs on
campus already
they're in the way

Get the tear gas call the
National Guard whatever
it takes

blood will rise then
the others will flee they'll
be so frightened just watch

Don't worry it's not
murder it's just teaching a
very necessary lesson

Just a can of worms
nothing big just a few lives
all for the better, right?

One or two kids
maybe four
we'll show the world we know
just how wrong once we were

Don't worry we've turned
over a new Offensive moon

Melancholy

2005-11-04T16:12:00.000-08:00

Why don't we all gunch up and discuss this pic?

...

2005-11-02T16:36:00.000-08:00

Why do clouds change color?

Rosa Parks

2005-10-31T17:26:00.000-08:00

50 years ago, someone did something so unimaginable, it helped change our lives for the better of our lives. Rosa Parks stood firm on her seat of the bus.

It's nothing now, but that had been December 1, 1955 in Montgomery, Alabama. Racism was something everyone was pretty much an advocate, or a victim of. Rosa had grown up seeing the Ku Klux Klan marching in front of her house, and her school for "black" children burned down by arsonists.

When she refused to give up the seat of the bus for a white person, she did a little something for all of us that says "I'm not afraid."

I first learned about Rosa Parks in second grade. My teacher, Mrs. Katopodis, read us a book about Rosa as a child. She went to a school where little white children would tease and hiss and throw things at little black children. Once, her teacher, a white who was against racism, caught her standing in one spot, in the middle of the crowd, murmuring. Later, she confronted her, saying that she knows it's wrong, but Rosa really should try to stand up to them, to which Rosa answered, "I was praying."

I was surprised to learn that Rosa was alive back then. To me, most real people we read about in books were mostly dead, just parts of history. But she was, and there we were, little second-graders, of different color and nationality, sitting in a circle, listening to our teacher read about a woman who helped make this happen.

R.I.P
Rosa Parks
1913-2005

Freedom and fear

2005-10-30T20:12:00.000-08:00

"Angels Prepare for Halloween

By Joe Mazan
Web produced by Sarah Morgan
October 28, 2005

60,000 people are expected to volunteer on Angel's Night and Detroit police are asking residents to do a few things to keep everyone safe this Halloween weekend.

Starting Friday and continuing through Monday, an emergency ordinance will go into effect making it difficult to buy fuel in a portable container. Customers will have to provide a valid drivers license and registration for their vehicle.

There will be a curfew in effect for minors from 6 p.m. on Sunday and 6 a.m. on Tuesday. Children 15-years-old and younger must be accompanied by an adult after 10 p.m., 16-year-olds must be accompanied by an adult after 11 p.m.

Detroit police are also asking residents to turn on their porch lights. If you have any trash or combustible material in front of your home it should be removed or soaked with water.

Captain Charlie Pritchett of the Detroit Fire Department said both the police and fire departments will be strictly enforcing these rules."

I'm sick and tired of police slapping down laws that apply only to other people. This doesn't affect them, just hundreds of kids 16 and under, and anyone who doesn't drive a police car. It's true that parks and cars have been known to be vandalised on Angels' Night, but does that necessarily mean they should be able to enforce laws that apply to everyone and arrest just about anyone who breaks it?

What about emergencies? A parent has a heart attack, the phone is being broken, a kid has no choice but to run across to the neighbors and ask for help. Can he make it on time? Can he make it before the condition becomes fatally-

BAM

The little tyke can be taken to the police, just like that. Are Angel's Night vandals really problematic enough to have a law shamelessly thrown down like a Censored sticker over our freedom? Make commercials; remind the parents; tell them to keep an eye on their kids. Our freedom is something they can never take away without our country becoming something it never was in the first place.

Is that what the Founding Fathers had in mind? We can do whatever we want as long as it's in the government's and polices' favor? As long as us lessers do what they prefer? I don't think so.

Look at this town, all uptight and impounding its own people because of a couple of children decided it would be funny to make pretty flames.

What was it that George Bush told us when we were bombed by terrorists? We're not supposed to show them fear because that is exactly what they want. Well you know what? We're as scared as hell and we're making new laws every time a bully comes along to shield us from the real world.

I'd run around on the streets right now, if only I weren't so scared of those goshdanged hooligans.

Essays

2005-10-28T17:38:00.000-07:00

My English teacher tells us there is a format to writing essays: an introduction, a thesis, a concrete detail, commentary, another commentary, maybe more concrete details followed by two commentaries each, then a conclusion. It's supposed to be very helpful on the SAT and when you're it college. But seriously, who writes like this?

If it were just her, I'd take it as a load of crap, then humor her, but it's not. Other teachers are saying it too. Mr. V, my Language Arts teacher last year, who's submitted fiction to a few magazines, says there is no right way or format for writing, no matter what the teachers in high school say.

I honestly think Mr. V is one of the coolest people, I like his fiction, and one day, I'm submitting my stories to a magazine like he did, and I believe him with the essay-writing. This is just some silly format no one will ever need once they're out of college. It's just as useless as learning the history of Ancient Greece (come on, seriously) and the professional opinions you see in everyday news and books look nothing like it.

Heck, once I'm out of this, I'm sticking to fiction.

Boredom

2005-10-27T16:21:00.000-07:00

Boredom is underrated. Everyone says "I'm bored" like a bad thing. How about from now on, whenever we want to share our boredom, we give a big grin and yell "I'm bored!"

This mushroom I found

2005-10-26T15:58:00.000-07:00

I think it looks like a pizza.

Hats off to the president

2005-10-25T16:31:00.000-07:00

Earlier Tuesday, President Bush warned Americans to brace for more casualties because the U.S. military faces more challenges before it can restore stability to Iraq.

"The terrorists are as brutal an enemy as we have ever faced, unconstrained by any notion of common humanity and by the rules of warfare," Bush told the Joint Armed Forces Officers' Wives' luncheon at Bolling Air Force Base in Washington. "No one should underestimate the difficulties ahead."

Whole article here

He's actually telling the truth for once. I'm surprised. I guess his leadership really is improving. Very impressive. And I'm not half sarcastic.

Spaceballs

2005-10-24T16:17:00.000-07:00

I just saw that movie last night. It has so many good reviews, and I guess it was funny, but where was Luke Skywalker? He was the most important person in Star Wars, but he didn't even appear there. All that 'Schwartz' stuff was stolen by the Han Solo guy, who doesn't make a good Luke. Just not geeky enough. All sci-fi movies should have at least one dork.

More crap about dimensions

2005-10-23T18:38:00.000-07:00

A line knows where it's going. Straight. But it will never know where it came right from or what slope other intersecting lines have. That's because the answer can only be figured out in the third dimension. Of course, lines don't think, at least not in our "world." As long as they're in their own dimension, they will never know what their own lives are for. Just like us. There is an answer to our existence, we just can't figure it out in this dimension. Some other beings, in a parallel world in the fifth dimension, are probrably sketching us right now in their math classes.

Cool blog I found

2005-10-22T17:16:00.000-07:00

http://www.fivewordtales.blogspot.com

Every week, the author gives five random words and you have to use them all in a story. You can then submit it and he'll post it or whatever. He posted my story about a squirrel and a nuclear bomb. It's really awesome. Check it out.

By the way, you know those plastic boxes that come on CDs so the store makes sure you don't steal anything? How do you get those off? I've tried everything and the only easy way to get it off is with scissors.

Give him mercy

2005-10-21T19:39:00.000-07:00

Thousands have died at his cruel hands. They never recieved any mercy. Because he's wrong. Don't you agree? He's wrong for killing those people. He's a merciless murder machine. And he's human. We change. Give us a chance. He was dead wrong. And judging from the way the world is now, we're about to be wrong too.

Dead fucking wrong.

Something I've always wanted to do

2005-10-20T18:23:00.000-07:00

Back in kindergarten, my friend told me he ate an ant when he was two. He told me it was crunchy. From then on, I've always wondered what an ant tastes like. I should've tried it when he first told me, because now I can't bring myself to pick one up and eat it. It's the thought of little teensy legs in your throat that bothers me. And also the fact that some of them carry around dead animals and dog doo. And that it's a little bug.

If there's something stupid you can do, do it now or regret it forever.

Months

2005-10-19T17:15:00.000-07:00

September
Sept-
Seven

October
Oct-
Eight

November
Nov-
Nine

December
Deca-
Ten

If this is true, then why is December the twefth month, and not the tenth? Why is September the ninth and not the seventh? They must've added two extra months somewhere in the year.

But who?

Hmmm...

2005-10-18T16:00:00.000-07:00

What's the best way to get out of gym class?

Having Some Fun... ~Or~ A Cure For Spam...

2005-10-17T17:23:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I was pretty upset that I got spam, even though I wrote a poem on it. What made me even more upset is that they stopped after only two. So I went on Recently Updated and clicked on every spam site I saw. I commented on every one saying "I want one!" or "Sign me up!" and a link back to my site. I didn't get any after that. I guess I really annoyed them or something. I didn't really mean to offend them, but, you know, I just really, really wanted blockbuster coupons and weight loss training and leather shoes and a tweed jacket and a quick way to earn money, etc. What kind of people sell stuff to random people, but not to people who really want them?

I hope I didn't annoy any of them.

Dr. Seuss To The Rescue!

2005-10-16T22:16:00.000-07:00

One spam
Two spam
Bite spam
Chew spam

Eat spam
Chew spam
Old spam
New spam

This one's dishing
On a star

This one's selling
A little car.

Say! What a lot
of spam there are.

Yes. Some are eaten.
Some are chewed.
Some are old.
And some are new.
Some are sad.
And some are glad.
And some are very, very bad.

Why are they
Sad and glad and bad?
I do not know
Go ask your dad

Some are lo
Some make you fat.
The fat one's selling
a yellow hat.

From there to here,
from here to there,
funny things
are everywhere.

Here are some
who sell a ton.
In the long run
They won't sell none

Oh me! Oh my!
Oh me! Oh my!
What a lot
Of funny things go by

Bottle of oil for feet
Some have four.
Some enough for six feet
And some have more

Where do they come from?
I can't say.
But I bet they have come
a long, long way.

We see them come.
We see them go.

Some act fast.
And some act slow.
Some prices are high.
And some are low.

Not one of us
Likes this bother
Don't ask us why.
Go ask your mother.

Say!
Look at his spam!
One, two, three...
How many comments
Do I see?

One, two, three, four
five, six, seven,
eight , nine, ten.
He has eleven!

Eleven!
This is something new.
I wish I had
eleven, too!

George Bush

2005-10-14T23:55:00.000-07:00

Bush Presidency Judged Unsuccessful

Bush Teleconference With Soldiers Staged

Don't get me wrong. This post isn't about how “Bush is actually deh gey” or “His mom eat shit dats why he is FAT AS HELL ON THE MOON!!!!!!!!!!” No, nothing like that. I believe that Bush is just one man pushed somewhere in a job that isn't perfect for him. He's not a regular person you could see driving down the road. He's coached too many baseball teams and won too many votes for that. But even though he's more special than you, me, and even Missus Jones down the block, he's just human. He's made some awful mistakes, that's all. Don't we all?

But when someone is President of the United States, and treats the country like a training game of Risk, they should take their practicing somewhere else. Like back with his baseball buddies. Yes, Mss'r President, we see you have a plan. Yes, we know you think it's going to work. Everyone expects to a president to make a country more rich, improve their lifestyles, and make it more well-liked by other countries. Well, let's see...

There's a big honking gap between the rich and the poor, families are missing each other across the ocean, and now that our search for weapons is in vain, other countries from around the globe see us as terrorists. We <3 our president.

What happened forty years ago when we invaded a country we knew nothing about and decided to take it in our hands to “purify” the world of commies? We did more worse than good. They're still rebuilding. Johnson backed out. Nixon got the boot. We left them behind. And they're still in poverty.

Yes, we're rebuilding Iraq as we fight the war. But it's only a matter of time before we realize we're in debt and back out. Just like before. It's funny how Rome wasn't built with a piece of paper saying “E Pluribus Unum,” huh?

No, Bush is not “teh gey” and his mom don't stink (even though she did criticize The Simpsons [Hence the episode where Bush senior spanked Bart]). He's one man who thought he could help and ended up unknowingly doing the oposite.

Behind The Wall

2005-10-13T17:24:00.000-07:00

Behind the leaves
Behind the fence
They run around
Jumpy and tense

Round monicles
They sip their teas
From a long day in the garden
Eating carrots and peas

A secret so hidden
By their fur and tails
The fences we built
With wood and nails

We pound our hammers
They play on swings
We dig under heat
They spread their wings

We can always go back
Though who really wants to
They have the fun
While we eat squirrel stew

I'm off

2005-10-12T13:32:00.000-07:00

I'm going vegetarian. Something tells me I'm going to make a damn good one once I "get it" before I decide it's impossible and quit. Also, or maybe because, I'm trying out Buddhism. Because it all makes sense. I used to be Christian, but I was kinda disgusted (no offense) by the way anyone can make up just about anything about God. Not by the religion, but how people use it for their own ways. How one person can say "God likes this, but God hates that," and someone else can say the opposite. People at church are constantly using the commandments and ideas to tell children what to do and what not to do, instead of telling them exactly why. "Because God says so," not "because it hurts others around you." Again, this is just me, and I mean no offense to other Chrisians, because this is only how it's been for me, and everyone has different ways of thinking and completely different lives. When it all comes down to one thing, most of the religions say pretty much the same thing; be honest, be nice, don't be bad, etc. I'm just at a point where I do believe the cause of all suffering is wanting things. This isn't a dumb fad introduced by my history teacher, it's my belief. That's why I'm gonna be the best darn Buddhist there is.

Stop Complaining

2005-10-11T17:52:00.000-07:00

Our cars won't start and we're late for work. We've spilled ink on our favorite shirt. We've failed a test we're positive we'd do good on. They yell at us again and again without reason. Someone hits us upside the head. You stub your toe. You just plain don't know what to do. Agony hurts, doesn't it?

Warning: Extremely Graphic

2005-10-10T16:43:00.000-07:00

Of course dead animals look gross. People do too, if you don't put all that funeral makeup on and they're still at the scene of the crime. We spend hundreds and thousands of money on a coffin, a suit, a funeral, etc. What do animals do? They leave them there. Before long, it won't matter at all. Because they no longer exist. When you see a dead bird or rat corpse, don't go "eew," because it doesn't exist. There's no life, unless you count the oodles and oodles of maggots, flies, and wasps. My main point is, look at the next picture without being grossed out. Stare at it in dumb awe because that's how everyone ends up. No cheating!

Click

Rage & Jealousy

2005-10-09T20:41:00.000-07:00

Have you ever seen geese so fluffy? They're like living feather pillows filled with duck down, aren't they? I guess they were built to sleep a good night's sleep. Other creatures aren't so lucky. Other creatures must find a way to get a soft good night's sleep just like them. Maybe even better. They'll find a way.

I'm Happy

2005-10-08T18:01:00.000-07:00

I am this:
----------
happy on the hap-o-meter right now because I now have a mini-library of Stephen King books right now. 10, in fact. Today I went to the Livonia Library's book sale and I bought six, including this really rare one with a collection of stories he published under a pseudonym. Baghman, I think. There were a bunch I didn't want to buy, because all of them are pretty old. Probrably old enough to go on E-Bay one day and sell for 80$ each once I'm dead. Anyway, SIX new books! Including the first Dark Tower, The Gunslinger. I can't wait until February, when they're having another one. Then I'm going to buy Dark Tower 3, and maybe 4 if they have them. Yeah. Gotta go.

Time

2005-10-07T17:16:00.000-07:00

The line is the first, the plane is the second, and space is the third. Time is the fourth dimension. Without time, we'd all just be figures that don't move. Kind of scary, if you think about it. One dimension less and we wouldn't be alive. If the world had one more dimension what would it be? Something so great our minds wouldn't be able to comprehend, probrably, that not even the smartest brains put together could figure out. We arethe lines. Lines and planes don't think. Not to us, they don't. They'll never know what the the third dimension is. Lines are always wondering, what other dimensions are there? They know of things with even smaller dimensions we haven't yet discovered. And they'll never find out about us.

We're just as dumb as lines.

Mass Hallucination

2005-10-06T17:55:00.000-07:00

Ripped from Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia.

A mass hallucination is a phenomenon in which a large group of people, usually in physical proximity to each other, all experience the same hallucination simultaneously. Mass hallucination is the most common explanation for mass UFO sightings, appearances of the Virgin Mary, and other paranormal phenomena.

In most cases, mass hallucination refers to a combination of suggestion and pareidolia, wherein one person will see, or pretend to see, something unusual (like the face of Jesus in the burn-marks on a tortilla, or the face of a kidnapped girl on a blank billboard) and point it out to other people. Having been told what to look for, those other people will consciously or subconsciously convince themselves to recognize the apparition, and will in turn point it out to others.

In other cases, such as when separate people or separate groups of people who are not in contact with each other all experience the same phenomenon simultaneously, the explanation of mass hallucination can be just as "paranormal" as the phenomenon it's being used to dismiss.

The world is an example of mass hallucination.

Fly On A Ketchup Botle

2005-10-05T19:42:00.000-07:00

I found this fly on a ketchup bottle and was compelled to take a picture of it. Why was it here? What is the purpose of landing on the cap of a bottle of ketchup? Was it trying to get free lunch, or just there to rest until I finished taking the picture? How did the little guy think he'd get in? So many mysteries of life go unsolved.

Guess who

2005-10-04T19:33:00.000-07:00

"People want to know why I do this, why I write such gross stuff. I like to tell them I have the heart of a small boy... and I keep it in a jar on my desk."

Talk To Me

2005-10-03T19:07:00.000-07:00

Talk to me. I am interested in what you say. I will cherish your every word like an intent reader or a nostalgic memory. I want to know more. By nodding my head I am saying I completely understand. I am taking this in. I am taking this in. I am taking this in like an honor student on the roll. This comes easy to me. Keep talking. I want to know more. I want to know more. I am still listening.

You can't prove I'm not.

Bug

2005-10-02T19:34:00.000-07:00

What is it It's disgusting
Kill it Rip it Let's see its guts
It's just a bug A disgusting bug
Kill it It doesn't need to live
Just a gross bug
Look at its legs Rip them off
Beady little eyes Gouge them out
Hurt it It don't need life
All it does is freak people out
Stomp it
Squish it
Kill it
It's just a disgusting bug

After The Storm

2005-10-01T17:54:00.000-07:00

Trees strike Children shrink Lashing out Don't blink
They send it down They send it down We'll all drown They send it down They'll drown us all
They're not touched They stay up smiling They stay up glaring Stay up singing "They'll all drown."

Fun stuff to do with a candle

2005-09-30T02:53:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, during the blackout in the early morning, we lit a candle. It had no purpose, really, so my parents went back to sleep and I got to play with it. What I found out about it may be disturbing, shocking, and even traumatising. Here goes.

-It doesn't create smoke. Isn't that mad? How can fire not make smoke? If it doesn't make smoke, it's not even fire. It's some sort of super, ultra-pansy flame, that's what it is. It only makes smoke when you drop a piece of paper on it.

-If you try to touch it, it's really really hot. It's barely even there, just a ghost, but it hurts and if you touch it too much your fingers smell like a really woody chicken. That's not normal.

-Dollar bills are more flammable than normal paper. I only meant to take off a corner of it, but you know how paper gets all singey and gets eaten away. I burned off more than I intended.

"When a fire starts to burn there's a lesson you must learn, something-something then you'll see, you'll avoid catastrophe, D'oh!"

The Day After Tomorrow

2005-09-29T16:40:00.000-07:00

When I first saw that, movie, I thought it was okay. Just okay. Not awesome, great, terrific, etc, just okay. I didn't like the story half as much as I liked the idea that we were destroying ourselves with pollution, and all the special effects. Who didn't think the frost freezing over everything slowly was the awesomest thing ever?

Just last week, OJ said something disturbing. Like she always does, but this one's way disturbifyinger. Mostly because it was so incredibly clever it took me three days to 'get.' We are what's happening in the movie. One day, that'll happen to us, it's already started now. Katrina, the newer one I forgot the name of, just today, there was a blackout 'round here that took around 12 hours to fix.

Once people realize what is happening, they'll all flee to Mexico, because the movie said so. And when the president of Mexico realizes that his streets are being crowded with out-of-countryers, he'll make stricter laws. Stricter laws mean lesser freedom. Lesser freedom means people will go somewhere else. And what happens when one of the most populated countries in our world is picked up, shaken, and all the little plastic people are scattered around the world?

More crowding everywhere else. Europeans will be living with with their uncivilised fat burping cousins. Germany will be filled with American teens shouting "zieg heil" just for fun. China will be completely packed. France, well, I don't want to think about it.

The point is, quit using and trying to invent stuff that has everything in it for the environment! Turn that TV off, multitaskers who are talking into their cell phone while typing while listening to the radio and watching TV at the same time really need to turn one or two or three or maybe even four of those gadgets off. Haven't we "helped" ourselves enough? Instead of thinking of a better tomorrow, we need to start thinking how it'll affect the day after.

Story Game

2005-09-28T21:52:00.000-07:00

I'm going to start a story here. What I want the next person to do is post the next sentence or few sentences of it. And so on. And on. And maybe on a bunch more time. Here goes:

The murderer was caught, but the dancing mice didn't stop. The murderer was sent to the electric chair, but the mice still kept dancing. They didn't even stop to munch on their bowlfulls of sunflower seeds. Because deep in the forest, it dwelled. . . .

Keep it going!

Dude, Where's Our Freedom?

2005-09-26T17:09:00.000-07:00

The perfect balance between Democrats and Republicans is the
only thing keeping the country from being completely run by police. Lately, the
balance seems to have tipped.

"Cindy Sheehan, the California woman who became a leader of the anti-war movement following her son's death in Iraq, was arrested Monday along with dozens of others protesting outside the White House."
- JENNIFER C. KERR,
Associated Press

Well, what exactly have they done? They haven't killed anyone, hurt anyone, just voicing their opinion. Police are there to make sure people are following the rules. Rules are there to make sure everything is fair for each person. And since the protesters haven't violated anyone's safety or abused their rights, what the hell do the police think they're doing?

When autorities use their power to suppress peoples' rights, it's called tyranny. I'm starting to see how Iraq became this way. If someone decides to just come along and take over our country, who's going to stop us from protesting? Authorities. If they can't force people in jail, they have many more ways of making people listen. Gas bombs, tasers, pepper spray, their power is unlimited as long as we're alive.

What can we possibly do about it? First off, the best we can do is use our rights to the fullest. No, our country is not what the above paragraph just described, many authories are people we see in our own neighborhood. But as long as the police are allowed to keep people from expressing their opions freely, I'm starting to have doubts.

Who remembers back in fourth grade, when the mean old teacher gave us all a really hard test? Not just a hard test, but one that's unfair with lessons we barely learned about. We assured ourselves that if everyone fails, it's not our own fault, it's the teacher's. Of course, that didn't always work at school. The teacher has almost complete power over her students. But this isn't the school, and we do have some power over ourselves. If we protest and shout out our opinions to the fullest, we can do something about it.

Gay Marriage

2005-09-25T19:18:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's wrong in a lot of our religions. And yes, it's against a lot of peoples' morals. But not everyone has the same beliefs, and America has to accept that.

Since when was it the Government's descision how people should live? They should focus on things like crime, property issues, taxes, etc., not make laws about who shouldn't be allowed to celebrate living together with whom.

These people don't necessarily have the same morals as you, and they have every right. That's why there's Freedom of religion. Really, who really minds that two gays are living together? Whose life would it ruin to let them get married?

Yes, people are changing. A hundred years ago, people looked down on African Americans and other immigrants. Today, people look down on the people who look down on immigrants. Why should this be different.

Speak safely in the "free" world!

Michael Jackson

2005-09-24T19:48:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, this one lady, Mrs. Tabby,* yelled at my friend Sally.* I listened to the whole conversation. Sally and some other kids at church were making fun of Mrs. Tabby's son, Tom,* calling him names, including "Michael Jackson." I hadn't been going to church all summer so I really wasn't part of it.

Anyway, she went on and on about how she thought Sally and her friend were sick, and that Michael Jackson was sick and how she thought no one should ever be called a name like that. Anyway, she kept going on and on about how her son was good and doesn't deserve a name like that when I couldn't take it anymore. Pretty soon, it grew into a debate on whether Michael Jackson is a good person or not.

And let me tell you, Michael Jackson is a good person. He may have made a bad choice changing his skin color, but the only reason he did was because of a disorder. (I forget what it's called, but it's where perfectly normal-looking people are terribly insecure about how they look.) After that, people just didn't like how he looked anymore, and more and more people took hits at him for no reason at all. Which is completely unfair, and is sorta like Tom's situation.

You heard the news, the lady who accused MJ was a liar, but somehow had gotten half the country to agree with her. As for me, I never doubted Michael from the start. But even if he did, he is not a bad person. His morals would be wrong, and he'd have done evil by ruining the kid's life, but no one is "bad," nor are they good.

Plus, he invented the Moonwalk.

I could tell that lady was starting to get annoyed with me.

*Name changed to protect privacy

Username

2005-09-23T15:45:00.000-07:00

I'm thinking about changing my Blogger username into something completely original, not just words from two movies put together. You know, something completely random, like in The Matrix. Seriously, Where'd "Trinity," or "Mouse" come from?

Any ideas?

Lost Spoilers!

2005-09-22T17:31:00.000-07:00

GAAASP, the hatch is open. All the spoilers are revealed!

-The hatch suddenly says "QUARANTINE" on the door.
-Shannon is lost for a second, and sees Walt dripping wet, even though Walt was being kidnapped on the raft last time we saw him.
-Walt whispers something then disappears when Sayid finds Shannon. (I knew that kid was hiding something!)

Hurley:"So tonight, I see the same freakin numbers on that hatch thing, and I was trying to stop it."

-Kate goes down the hatch.

Kate:"What do I say if I need to stop?"
Locke: "'Stop.'"

-Someone in the forest cuts the rope that Kate was using to be lowered into the hatch.
-Kate sees the light at the bottom. Light goes off, light turns on, light goes really really bright and Kate screams.
-From above, Kate stops screaming.
-Rope all of a sudden is pulled down real fast and Locke's hands start bleeding.
-Locke lets go.
-Jack finds that neither of them are there.
-Jack goes down the hatch.
-Jack reaches bottom, is a big sewer system of dripping pipes
-A pair of shoes
-Graffiti on walls, crayola paint on a dest
-Key around Jack's neck lifts itself, points to a switch
-Loud music turns on all of a sudden, lights go on.

"Make your own kind of music, sing your own special song"

-Computer, keys type themselves:
>:
-Jack sees Locke.

"What'd you do with Kate?"

-Jack points gun at Locke, someone else also points gun at Locke's head.
-Man who points gun at Locke is the same man who ran with Jack on stairs. (see vvv)

What the flashback reveals:

-Jack used to have hair.
-It was black and looks funny.
-His dad tells him to lie to his patient, saying everything's okay.
-Patient knows she's not.
-Jack runs up and down the stairs of a stadium with another man.
-Jack tells patient she'll be paralyzed waist down for the rest of her life.
-Big miracle... patient says she can feel her own toes.

Chicken

2005-09-20T18:13:00.000-07:00

It's not fair that millions of innocent chickens are being cooped up in crowded pens.

They can't even "fly" properly because their wings are clipped.

It's too bad that they'll never known the meaning of freedom while their relatives, the jungle fowl, roam freely in the jungle.

What is the point of their lives?

Everyone says "live life to the fullest," but why can't we share our freedom?

Because we're selfish?

Why don't we eat chimp?

Chicken. Click.

Not for weak stomachs.

I bet he had a last wish.

Autism

2005-09-18T18:46:00.000-07:00

Do you have autism? Take the test and find out today! Will you score high, or will you score low? Mental problems or normal, you will finally know!

http://www.msnbc.com/modules/newsweek/autism_quotient/default.asp

0-10 low
11-22 average
(most women score about 15, and most men score about 17)
23-31 above average
32-50
(mpst people with Asperger Syndrome or high functioning autism score about 35)
50 Maximimum