Why Language is Important

I present to you, dear avid non-reader, a challenging decryption puzzle that will soon be the future of human communication. I will give you only the first six words of the remainder of the post below and it will be up to you to decipher what I am saying. Hopefully you will be right and get the joke, let me know in the comments what you think it is. I will post tomorrow the correct answer. Ready?.....Set......Go!

Oh, hi! I was talking with S1 2D & T W O T P T S1 E U T I T S C L. & W I A B A 2 A S M B B S L, I A H T S. O S, I H U I B O I S T A S & B M S T. I Y A 2 L 2 W O W Y W 2 S P J C T F P, P I O S, & L T P D & T! H P I I T W H B D L 2 A A & A BC T O F W L "HI" O "OK" O "YOU" I J S D T O O L? W N J T I L & N, T I T L A O E R. O T E B I P Y A J S, W H W Y E A T P?.....T A A G!! (L L S W B)


UPDATE:
As promised, albeit a day later than stated, here is the actual meaning behind the cryptic letter/number jumble....

Oh, hi! I was talking with someone today and they were on their phone texting someone else using that insufferable text speak coded language. And while I applaude being able to accomplish so much by being so lazy, I absolutely hate that shit. Oh sure, I have used it but only in situations that are sarcastic and blatantly mocking such things. If you are too lazy to write out what you want to say properly just call the fucking person, put it on speaker, and lay the phone down and talk! How pathetic is it that we have boiled down language to asinine acronyms and abbreviations because typing out full words like "hi" or "ok" or "you" is jsut so damn taxing on our lives? Why not just talk in letters and numbers, that is the least amount of effort required. Okay, that's enough but I promised you a joke so, what do you get when you eat all the potatoes?.....They are all gone! (like language soon will be)

Ye Age Olde Debate

I was talking with someone the other day who was watching a program about intelligent design on TV. And they began to beat me with their incredulousness at how insane it was that intelligent design was being black listed by the scientific community. Which got me to thinking about science (read: atheism (I know it's not that simple but for sake of this post it is)) and religion, and what my thoughts are.

I think religion is interesting. Not in a fanatical fundamentalist sort of way, I just mean that there are things about religion as an idea that I find interesting; much the manner in which I think of science. There is a certain <je ne sais quoi> about religion as an entity that fascinates me. Having said that, this is not going to be one of those diatribes on religion, tearing it down or building it up, I rather hope it does not become such; I care little for debate but enjoy inspiring them. Right, on we go.

Like many people, particularly in Bible Belt USA, I grew up in a deeply devout, oh fuck it - I grew up around religion. My mother was a Catholic turned Methodist from the union to my father, I presume he was also a Methodist at the time...or maybe that came later, who's to say, I wasn't born so I don't know. And like many good children, from an early age I bucked at the trend. The only reason, besides having no free will, that I went to church was for story time and crackers. And then later on whence I became an adolescent, the ski trips and cute girls. All the while, I was being told these accounts and stories and how to act like Christ, and it sounded nice...in theory.

Fast forward in my development, or we could be here for a decade easily ===>===>===>===>===>===>===>epilepsy===>===>seizure===>===>seizure===>===>seizure

===>===>tennis===>tennis===>tennis===>skiing===>tennis===>tennis===>tennis===>choir
===>===>===>===>graduation===>SUMMER===>===>surgery===>===>===>college.

College was an interesting time, religiously speaking, as I had begun dating a girl who was deeply dedicated to the deity. And though I was not quite as religiously inclinated, like many others, I faked it. What the hell, I figured, try to share a common interest, blah blah blah. And though I had grown up in a religious home, I never felt that strongly so I went through the motions like a good Christian is supposed to in order that those around me would be impressed and marvel at my religiositude (my word, you can't have it). Unfortunately, that brilliant plan backfired and the girl, now fully entrenched in a sorority dedicated to the Son, started forcing blame upon me for things I did that she didn't think lined up with the version of the Bible playing in her (and her sorority's) head. Among these things were:

Look at a girl that's not her - go to hell. Say a "cuss" word - go to hell. Stay up past midnight - go to hell. Skip a class - go to hell. Make a hilarious innuendo - go to hell. Inappropriately hug her from behind - go to hell. Fall asleep or talk during church functions, including informal dinners sponsored by the church - go to hell. Speak to a member of a different ethnicity - Okay, not really but it wouldn't have surprised me. Do laundry in the nude - go to hell. Breath loudly - go to hell. Drink a beer - go to HELL! Masturbate because she won't do it for me - BURN LIKE A HEATHEN! (in HELL!)

I say all of that to say this. Insomuch as I think religion can be a good thing for people, it can also become a crutch to lean on or a way to lay blame on others for being different from you. People need to believe in something, it's just a part of the nature of humanity that's why we love Santa Claus as children. We try to assign everything to a box, neatly labeled and placed on a shelf. If we do not understand something or cannot explain something, we get scared. Thus religion gives people an out, a way to cope with the unfathomable nature of the world; unfathomable, of course, in that because it does not prescribe to the box we think it belongs to, we ostracize and shun the non-believer.

Along that line, I have always noticed a certain tendency of those who claim to be religious to be incredibly hypocritical. I do not mean the entire group, but just some of the herd. It astonishes me that people that want to be like Christ often are the worst type of people outside of the church building. As a former hypocrite myself, I can instantly recognize this quality. And sure, there are those who are truly Christ-like and that's wonderful, I appreciate and love them with my whole heart. But a few bad apples...well, you know. The hypocrites that are my favorite are the ones that know they are hypocritical and will still get shit-face drunk, fuck anything with a slit, and then try to pass themselves off as righteous anytime they are in public or at least around their religious "friends."

By now, if you are reading this far down, you are probably thinking "Hmmm, sounds like you don't believe in God." And if you're a Christian, you're also thinking "You're gonna BURN IN HELL!!" If you're not, you might be applauding my thoughts (I doubt it). Both groups would be wrong, though.

Every coin has two sides, and as such, strict atheists are just as horrible at representing what they believe. In my experience, atheists are often the loudest, most obnoxious human beings on the planet. They many times brow beat you worse than Christians with their beliefs. The passion they display while vehemently defending Darwinism, evolution, and the big bang as being the only explanation is overwhelming and alarmingly similar to religious zealots.

(Aside: It intrigues me when I speak to an atheist friend of mine because he always claims that his belief in the non-belief of God is far more intelligent than that of any "small-minded Christian." How do I tell him that in order to have disbelief in something it has to be experienced as tangible and concretely real?)

So, with that in mind, here is where I am. I hate religion, but it is interesting to me as a sociology experiment. However, I do, in fact, believe that there is a God. God is not dependent upon your ability to be religious, religion has nothing to do with God. He doesn't give a shit if you do as much as you possibly can inside a church; a church is just a symbol; a gathering place; it has no real meaning or ability to make you closer to God; it is just a builiding of mortar and bricks. The relationship you build between yourself and God is the vital part; without that how will relate to other human beings in a way that would make them question you? And questions hold the key to explanation and the sharing of a relationship with God, which incidentally is something God wants people to do.

Moving on....Atheism is as ignorant as it gets, but every point needs a counterpoint, thus atheism. Do I really believe that a floating piece of bacteria swum around to the point of getting bored and mutating itself into a frog into a fish into a lizard into bird into a monkey into a man? Hardly. If that held true, then by god, I would become a flying brain. I do not believe in evolution, but not because I believe in God. Evolution is the theory that all life is the offspring of one amoeba in a pond somewhere, and that's fucking stupid. However, I do believe, thanks to observable proof, that speciation, a form of evolution within a certain species of being, exists. Some would call it adaptation, but speciation is not adaptation. Adaptation is the bastard cast-off of evolutionary theory in which the strongest survive, the weak die. Speciation is the evolution of a species to continue its existence and even the dumb fucks survive (case in point my sister's baby daddy).

Do I think that creation is infantile, not infinite and ancient? No. To deny what I can see with my own eyes in the way of trillions of stars, billions of galaxies, and millions of incredibly complex and expanding cosmic events would be stupid. What I do think, is that both religion and science/atheism are right on the creation of the known universe. Religion says the universe was created in seven days. Okay. Science says the earth and everything else is millions of years old thanks to carbon dating. Okay. I accept both of these as true because of one simple, immutable fact: TIME. Time is not absolute nor definitive. Time is a creation of man to constrain his fellow brethren and give order to the chaos that is the universe. Time breaks down the events, places, and people of the known universe into neat little chunks so that man, the highest speciated being in existence (as we know it), can comprehend all that lay before us.

Simple, right?

I Am An Asshole...So What?

As many of you, the dedicated and avid non-readers of my blog that you are, may know from previous posts, my "sister" recently brought forth life on this planet. For those that don't know, I refer you to the following previous posts, Undesirable and Conflict of Interest for full back story (if you care about such things). Anyway, the child is, for all practical purposes, decently cute. I wouldn't say that I love the bugger, mostly because I have only seen him a handful of times due to my sister's domestic incarceration enforced by her "boyfriend," but I can't hold anything against the defenseless child.

Well according to my parental units, the poor kid has been having some sort of intestinal distress for the past few months. Sucks for him. I have postulated on many occasions that the reason for this is because he can sense that his "home" is full of nothing but distrustful, hateful, lesions on society who do nothing but bicker, fight, and ignore that they have created nothing but turmoil in this lifetime; children can sense that sort of thing so it's not that much of a stretch. So, the poor child has been unable to stomach formula and the like and even when he does keep it, he then becomes incredibly constipated (according to my mother).

So the other day I was perusing ye olde Facebook, as we have all been conditioned to do now, and came across a post on my wall from said "sister." She had apparently done something responsible and actually taken her child to the doctor to find the source of his turmoil. The doctor has come to the conclusion that the child has a milk protein allergy. Hooray, right? The cause has been found! Let us all rejoice in the streets, singing songs of praise to the doctor and dancing 'round the maypole!

Nah.

While I am glad that the child has been tended to as best can be by taking him to a doctor, and that some reason has been given for his plight, I fail to understand why this should be a cause for happiness. Granted now that this information is out there, steps can be taken to prevent the child from contacting milk thus eliminating his troublesome bowels. But part of me doubts that this is the true cause of his ailing.

Allergies can develop seemingly out of the blue, this is true. However, for one to be susceptible to the effects of allergens, there must be a deeper root cause. Not only that, but based upon my own, somewhat limited, knowledge of anatomy and biology, the allergy could merely have served as the trigger for a more serious ailment. My money, what little I would wager, is on that the child suffers from a disruption of his peristaltic musculature as result of having been prematurely birthed, and the allergy simply agitated this and now takes the blame.

Of course this is a stretch, but not all together unlikely, especially because the true root cause for all his turmoils is the following: inferior genetic design.

Now, before you get all huffy and start thinking I am one of those crazy "pure blood, super race" people, I am not. However, it just makes sense that any offspring from a deficient genetic pool will not only have the same defects, but will, thanks to evolutionary speciation, introduce new defects into the population. And seeing as how my sister's child (unwillingly my nephew), is not the eldest child of this unholy union but the sixth such donation from the deficient sperm donor, the idea that the sperm used to conceive was incredibly inferior and broken is not far off.

Survival of the fittest, the greatest ideation of evolutionary thought, states that all who do not adapt or are not capable of being the best will die. Therefore, the sperm used to create my sister's child was one of those left behind on several occasions because it was slow, stupid, or forgot to move forward the previous five times. Admittedly, this could have been a calculated move by that sperm to wait until the time was right where he would be the most superior of the deficient sperms still locked away in the testicle staging area. Whereby he would then be the most superior of the least intelligently designed and broken sperms reserves. Leading us to where we are now, with a poor innocent child who is genetically defunct because of repeated offenses by a negligent criminal rapist.

That poor kid had better be a sports god or he has no hope in life.

I Have Written My First Children's Story

Perry the Pedantic Pachyderm

Perry the pedantic pachyderm lived alone on a hill. There were petunias near his pond and Perry loved them. He would smell them daily and enjoyed reciting their classification Solanaceae Petunioideae as he drank his morning water.

Perry lived by himself because the other elephants hated him for being so smart and grew tired of his contsant need to show off his superior intellect. And though he got lonely sometimes, Perry never forgot that the others did not like him. Even though he was alone, Perry the pedantic pachyderm was happy.

One day, Perry was walking in the forest and came upon a rabid monkey in the trees. Because Perry had spent time alone, he had watched humans all his life.

He knew they were smart and had learned by watching that the monkey was sick. So Perry decided he would take the monkey home and perform surgery on him to fix the sick monkey.

Perry convinced the sick monkey to trust him and that he could help make the monkey better. The monkey did not understand Perry the pedantic pachyderm as monkeys do not speak elephant language.

With his mighty trunk, Perry lifted the monkey high into the air and carried him along the long journey back to Perry's home.

Even though Perry was as knowledgeable as any other creature, he was still an elephant. On the trip home, Perry the pedantic pachyderm began to daydream about the other elephants and how they would be jealous of him, and praise him for being so intelligent.

 It was at this moment, while Perry was daydreaming, as elephants often do, that the rabid monkey became even more rabid. He became an uncontrollable beast of furry fury, contorting his body about unnaturally and thrashing most violently. And the rabid monkey bit Perry the pedantic pachyderm on his trunk, infecting him with his rabidness.

Perry dropped the rabid monkey in reflex to the feeling of pain and ran away quickly, anxious to get home. When he got home, Perry the pedantic pachyderm realized what a mistake he ahd made in trying to help a stupid monkey infected with rabies. He began to think about what he had done and what had happened.

At that moment, Perry realized another thing he had done wrong. He had run home. He had run hard and he had run fast. Perry the pedantic pachyderm cried as he realized this because running sends the rabies to your body faster than normal.

So Perry the pedantic pachyderm wept and he lay down, waiting to die from his horrible disease.


THE END.

A Breakfast Club Kind of Day

Dear Avid Non-Readers,

    

      Upon the decision to enter into the realm of the blogosphere all those scant months ago, I have to admit I really didn't know where the journey would lead. Would I craft myself as the insanely funny, incredibly off-beat jokester, or would I lend unto the interwebs insightful sarcasm and narcissism in a way that would be somewhat off-putting but generally well-received? Or would I, against all odds and likelihoods, weave a tapestry of language re-telling my life story in a way that would be amusing and hold universal truth because all of humanity is basically the same?

      I've questioned this more and more as the posts have become more frequent. In the beginning, when I would post something whenever I got around to it, I find I was trying too hard to weave humor, waxing idiocies about childhood or later adultery (just go with it) and then attaching childlike renderings of things I was talking about. That was all well and good, but there is no way I could keep that up; I'm shit at art. So then came the life-revealing stories of the now times...another mistake. For while I'm a narcissist by nature, I'm also introspective and very private about personal affairs -- a quality I prize highly and have learned over the years is invaluable. And then of course, there came the philosphical ramblings of patchwork logic. I rather like those, but I fear they could become too weighty if that were to be the entireity of this blog.

      All in all, I can't say for sure still where this could go, what I might say, or even what my identity in the interwebs could be. In the end, I find that definition and labels of entities so complex becomes mired in tedium. And besides, boxes are for presents, not people. Above all, I suppose I'm no closer to ever truly having an identity, and I have an identity all the same. For in the end, we will always be a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal.

It's how we blend them that counts*

*From this point forward, I promise there will be less introspection and more infuriatingly esoteric philosophy, sarcasm, witticisms, and humor that may or may not be understood.

Hot As Balls

            As colloquialisms go this is a fairly straightforward, albeit odd, expression often used to give reference to external temperatures that are seen as exceedingly and excruciatingly sweltering. The sentiment conjures a palpable connection between the environmental factors and, presumably, the human body, thus making the speaker more self-aware of things that affect daily life. For insomuch as man is able to discern his surroundings and pattern his existence through the formulaic learned skill of reason, no truth of understanding can be gleaned in that which is not, on some level, intimately related to sense of self. Thus the nature of man be inherently and infallibly linked to narcissism. However despite this need of understanding and tangibility in life, one must further question the odd choice, in this case particular, in which man allays his feeble reasoning.

For to make expression of externality as comparable, if not equal, to a condition which one has no control to an object which is forever linked with one’s self seems a bit pedantic. Notwithstanding, of course, is the inherent question of exactitude and precise meaning of such a phrase. While general knowledge and sensibility would place the locus of control and focus upon man intrinsic, there be, within the world proper, a vast plethoric range of generalized objects given over to the terminological nomenclature generically known as “balls.” In this way, the phrase in question then becomes a muddled non-sequitur. For even though the inference can be made to suggest that man is in himself finding reference, argument can be volleyed that such is not the case and thus does the phrasing find its’ first fault.

The logic implies that there be only one such thing referenced in existence that be deemed a ball. Such logic is fallacy, as a great many inanimate perceptions and incarnations be thusly dubbed also. In addition to this superficial augmentation of the phrasing, there be yet more nonsense inherent in the system. Most notably, that if man be making reference to personal rounded attributes, the terminology of “ball” be a far cry from verified veracity or veritas. For, as any learned scholar who is wise in the ways science of anatomical endeavor may attest, in truth that which is so callously and commonly referred to as balls be in actuality much more cylindrically attuned and more accurate reference be noted as oblong. And while there be further things of the world called balls which also have elongated axes, e.g. football, rugby ball, &c, these too be misnomers of actuality.

In final thought of the obtuse nature of such a phrase, how is the determination of temperate delineation formed? For to make reference to a temperature in relation to an inanimate or intimate object of creation is surely naught but narcissism taken to a magnificently gross scale. The comparison of one thing to another for purpose of relating information between man be naught but an invention of man himself, a notion and practice which is filled with the faulty absurdities man owns at his core. Nothing that man reasons can be pure, the underlying nature of human error is present always. And insomuch as it can be argued that man is capable of comparison, the comparison thus will be erroneous if for no other reason than that which man creates in his existence is of his own imagination, and the imagination of man cannot truly create any thing. Creation of ideas is based upon experiential occurrence, of which there are many, and as such all inventions of man serve only they whom are given credence as having been the inventor. Temperature is man’s invention to describe how something, either extrinsic or intrinsic, feels. Feelings are inventions based on emotional response to a given situational happening in which one is engrossed; anyone outside that exacting experience has not the same feeling or inclination. And so it follows that nothing can be so indeterminate as to fall across the broad spectrum of humanity as an existential plane. The imperfection of man be the greatest tool in his own destruction through fallacious reason.

Reason.

Desire in man to take into himself the task of deepening existential being through defense of action or thought as result of Logic.

Logic.

Man seeking enlightenment through means of superficial thought of his surroundings and experiences.

Whether there be a faculty such as reason is a debatable cogitation in which man seeks, in any number of ways, extradition of his menial thoughts from gray matter to substantiation through tangibility. That reason exists is not the contention, but that reason be meaningful. The process to reason is but little more than a complex addition and expansion of that which man calls logic. However, the bastardization of pure logic by man through erudite affectation leads only to the fallacy of reason free from any semblance of logic proper. In order that logic be pure, there be need of the thought and subjection to remain unaffected by man wherein the problem does occur. For without man, logic cannot exist; logic itself is but an invention of man given to garner understanding of the existence of self. But of inventions of man we have previously spoken. Hence where does logic exist?

Logic then exists within each man, insofar as man is capable to process the sensations of life; that logic is pure be fully dependent upon the man. Even if the man be most pure, that his logic be so also does not fully follow. There be no ideation of man, pure or not, in which the precedent for logic flow freely or solely without fallacy. For in order that logic be presently and concurrently correct implies that which is being called logical spans the vastness of all existence and humanity. No such logical confluences do or can exist as man is a solitary beast wherein even though he surround himself with others of the like, he need them not to complete his existence; man with men is but a hazard of the humanity thrust upon each when all want only that which will benefit the bearer. Therefore logic is inherent of flaws, for logic is naught but the thoughts of man about his surroundings, the formation of logic into discernable practices of life events fall victim to that which each person seeks to disprove in manner of narcissism. And narcissism then breeds inequality, that is to say, caste systems in humanity wherein each caste is identical in nature but through narcissism weakened where even inequality breeds; nature of humanity becomes each man’s caste of one against each other in existence, equality of solitude. This then is the end resulting in social confliction.

Equality.

Equality can be interpreted as the reason for social conflict, rather than the solution for social conflict.

                                                                                                                           – Thomas Hobbes

            The above quote, taken from Hobbes’ Leviathan, is apropos of nothing save the succinct statement of the situation in which we currently find ourselves. For even though man be brilliantly attuned and adept in his growth of knowledge and skill, man cannot invent any thing that will then give pause to the iniquity of humanity as it exists solely unto each individual. In seeking equality and equity of the human condition, man can only seek to further involve himself in a cyclical confliction of man against his fellows.

Equality is the ideation of utopia; a unicorn in a forest of horses. For proof of this, man need only look back fondly upon the recent histories of his former man, by extension self. Over the past hundred years, give or take, there are instances in which man sought to create an equality of the brethren through social commonality, a sharing of the wealth (inclusive) of man. In so doing, the thought was that man is nothing without his contemporaries and thus all things that man created, possessed, or desired be split and squandered amongst all men who, on a similar level whether cognizant of the fact, desired the same things. This thinking pervaded and perverted the environment and grew in popularity.

The equality of man became such a desired idea that in order to achieve such equality, those who believed the flawed ideation grew riotous and incensed by those whom did not see life as such. And thus the desire for equality became the flame for confliction amongst the masses. In-fighting and petty squabbling gave way to more raucous warring as the desire to see all men as the same met with the nature of humanity in narcissistic beliefs. Therefore, in the example chosen, conflict of societal thought became the only and inevitable end for the perverted notion of logic by man that man was all inclusively equal in every way.

And of course, this abbreviated example then gives reason to heed the Hobbesian logic above. For even now, in the present day of man, there are those desiring equality of man and the effects of that are the same as before. Equality of skin tone, sexual orientation, women, religious thought, &c are the driving forces behind the conflicts inherently present in every region of the world. Why? In point of fact, equality cannot exist in a society so consumed by narcissistic thought and those that try and fight for such only drive the wedge of social inequality further down and create larger and larger cracks in the logic they purport to see enacted.

Man is a solitary beast forced to interact with his fellows because of his own desire to braggartism and the need to foster the narcissist within by outdoing his fellow man. Each man is at war with himself more so than he wars within the societal realm of Man for equality. The idea of equality harms Man as a whole because man is only ever seeking himself, which flaws and negates equality altogether.

Birds! Birds! Birds!

I absolutely hate detest abhor birds. They are the most fo(w)l creatures on the planet. And it's strange because I have a love affair with penguins. But I don't consider penguins as birds since they lack the ability of flight. I do hate one specific penguin that attacked me in New Zealand but that is a different story.

My displeasure with avian creatures began long ago when, as a young lad, I was brutally and maliciously attacked by a rabid goose in the park while feeding innocent ducks.

At the time, I thought nothing of this goose and his unmitigated rage toward such a precocious and awesome young me ( I mean, just look at that picture. I do look awesome).

Time went by, and still I try...

--Sorry, channeled my inner Billie Joe for a minute there.

I grew up a bit and really began to dislike birds because they were constantly shitting any- and everywhere near, on, or around me. Most notably next to my head during a family vacation to Florida. I had chosen to sleep out on the balcony of our condo on the beach one night as it was temperate and glorious. Next day, BAM! I woke up with seagull shit peppered all around my head and neck. I took that as a sign of seagull rage at my pillow being the down of one of his close cousins.

Those incidents aside, it was in college that my hatred and distrust truly blossomed.

I went to school in a small-ish college town in West Central Texas, far enough away from home but close enough that I never had to do laundry in a dorm if I didn't want to waste my weekend. The most populous birds around here are the most annoying as well -- grackles, sparrows, and some type of really annoying and blind morning screecher. Well, one fine morning, I was awakened by a screech followed by a loud thud on my bedroom window. The aforementioned blind morning screecher had decided to pay me a visit.

Rather than unsuccessfully attempt falling back to sleep, a decision I bitterly regret to this day, I got up to make breakfast. Tedium and mundane daily routine things finished, I left the protection of my dorm and headed out to pick up a friend who needed a ride to class. Upon setting foot outside, I was overcome by a flock of grackles with Flock of Seagulls hair.

My instinct was to run away flailing like a scared child but damn it, I was a man and didn't want to look a fool in front of the gaggle of hot chicks that were walking my way. So I took my chances with the grackles and made it to my car with haste.

The night before, I had had no choice but to park under a tree. Trees are well-known for their connctions with the flying mafia, so approaching my car I was overly cautious. Closer and closer I inched, scanning the limbs for my foe. Not to be outdone, my caution was well met in form with an opening salvo from above. A couple of unseen sniper pigeons took aim at me and unleashed a flying flurry of fowl excrement.

With a quickness unmatched by anything, save a lemur, I deftly avoided the sneak attack. Also in my favor was the fact that pigeons make terrible snipers and they instead assailed my car. A small moral victory for the birds. In case you are keeping count, that's

Safely inside my motorized automobile, I let my guard relax ever so slightly, knowing full well that no bird could penetrate my impentetrable fortress of rolling awesomeness. That's not to say they didn't try...While driving to my friends house, I approached a well known, affluent neighborhood complete with trees-a-plenty lining the street. Wearing my courage underneath and all around me, I sallied forth determined to make my quest. Driving down the tree lined rue, I could feel the beady eyes of a thousand unseen miscreants gazing, gawking, and glaring down on me as they plotted best how next to break my spirit. 

And then it happened. Word seemed to spread throughout the Taliban of Talons that it was I in the vehicle, the natural enemy to all birds everywhere, the George Bush of the avian community. A shudder from my right -- a tree lifted as the weight of fifty birds took wing against me and swooped across my path causing me to brake forcefully out of surprise. A flutter on my left -- and a highly skilled flight of ten more birds buzzed my roof and rained down feces. I soon learned all the choreography was but a ruse for the true attack. No sooner had I thought the worst was over, another lone bird pulled a kamikaze barrel roll above me and plummeted toward my moving car. A loud THWACK! and my winshield was fractured in twain by this divebombing hellion. 

I arrived safely to my friend's and thought my day could only get better. And I was wrong again.

Upon retrieving my friend and going back to the campus, I had need of going to class myself. Rather than drive back to the dorm and walk the short distance to class, I parked on the street and humped it across campus to the fine arts building...in the rain..and the snow..and the 110 degree heat.

As I drew nearer the door, another perceived barrier of solace, I noticed tell-tale signs of growing unrest. Trees were swaying unnaturally in the non-existent breeze, and the chirps and tweets soon turned to banshee cries and angered screeching. I pressed on, determined not to let the birds play intimidation games wtih me. In retrospect, I should have gone home.

I climed the stairs and was headed for the door when the final blow was struck. A lone bird, high above had spied me and sprang into action for the good of all bird-dom. Spiraling downward at break-neck speeds, this insane suicide bomber hurtled toward the earth making necessary adjustments mid-flight to stay on target. Just as my hand reached out to grasp the door handle, I was overcome with a stabbing, searing pain the back of my head.

The bird had struck true. The beak of the suicide bomber had planted itself in my cranium, breaking through and causing a non-fatal wound from which my life force trickled down my neck. I winced and checked my wound, looking around the immediate area for what had struck me. There on the ground was my attacker -- a dead sparrow brought down by his own hatred of me and all humanity.

I'd say I won in the end, but the battle rages on still. Alfred Hitchcock is out to kill me and will someday win. The final tally for that day was 

Maybe someday I will get on that scoreboard....maybe.

Casey Anthony or How I Learned to Stop Caring and Accept Americans are Idiots

Not Guilty.

At least that's what they've said on the murder, abuse, and neglect charges. Fair enough. A jury of peers could not be swayed by the prosecution of the state, therefore they were correct in their decision.

Many people are outraged by this. Why? The thing I've heard and read most on Facebook is that the system failed. No, the system did exactly what it was supposed to do. The failure here was the prosecutors. Within the scope of any criminal trial wherein the state or federal government is charging a person, a group, or conglomeration with a crime, the burden of proof rests solely with the prosecution team. The defense is there to poke holes in the case to the best of their ability in order to disprove the theories being presented. 

In order for the system to fail, laws would have to be disregarded entirely -- no trial by jury just hang the fuckers, throw out all the rules and laws they waste our time. I love criminal cases like this, especially when the verdict is not guilty. The public outcry is just hilarious to me; just reaffirms the notion that people don't understand how judicial proceedings work. Trial by jury is easy enough to understand, you box up 12 people too stupid to make up an excuse or act like a racial bigot and you have them try to comprehend the complex notions of motive, means, and opportunity. The part that gets most people, in particular the loudmouth morons who have an opinion on everything regardless of how stupid they sound, is the part where the defendant is innocent until proven guilty...did we all catch the operative word there? PROVEN.

Proven -- transitive verb;  to establish the existence, truth, or validity of (as by evidence or logic)

It's right there. Perceived criminals are innocent until it is proved otherwise through means of evidentiary support. I fail to understand how people can screw that up and formulate these scathing opinions that someone is guilty when they have nothing to do with the situation in the first place. In the Anthony trial, was the death of the child particularly disgusting, no. It was sad and disheartening, but it is not as if the child was hacked and mangled and slowly strewn about town over the course of several days after having been sexually assaulted and raped in public. No child deserves to die, but for outside entities to formulate opinions of the accused based upon heresy, circumstance and outward appearance is appalling. Especially when the judicial system gives everyone the right to be considered innocent unless and until the prosecuting body can prove otherwise.

Okay, I'm done. But I will leave you with some my particular favorite comments of friends that I've run across on Facebook.

CG: "Free Boosie...maybe if we did, he would put out a hit on Casey Anthony"

AR: "Dear USA government, you suck big balls. The end. Not guilty my ass" (I find this one particularly funny because the girl who wrote it clearly has no concept of the court system, and she's generally dumb as a pile of rocks)

KS: "She's so damn guilty, I don't believe this. I thought public opinion counted for things like this!" (Just....wow)

The Wide World of Sports

There are two things I enjoy greatly in this world, and those two things are tennis and women. Like any true man, I love pretty women, they are just soft and wonderful. All manner of women in some way strike my fancy, and I don't mean in a strictly boarish, misogonistic, oogling sort of way. Women are beautiful, I appreciate beauty, therefore women are something I like in all forms.

I also like tennis. I'm good at tennis, having myself played since I was 12 years old. It is a great game, easy to learn but hard to master. Growing up, I watched all the tennis I could and played and practiced for hours on end day in, day out trying to learn and get better. So, naturally, when the two collide I am very much in a good mood.

That said, today is the Women's Final at Wimbledon. I love Wimbledon. The grass is magical and I'm sure that being there in person would be as well. Mostly I love Wimbledon because in my head it is pronounced Wimbly-Don and that makes me smile. Aside from that, the women's game rarely holds interest for me. I find them to be rather slow paced and dull on many occasions, mooning the ball back and forth lazily as if they have only just picked up a racquet for the first time. But one of the things I enjoy most about women's tennis, which is a point of contention amongst the elite and purists, is the grunting and shrieking during the matches.

Many people find these noises to be annoying and distracting from the game itself. I don't. I enjoy the fact that they are so committed to their craft and trying as hard as they can that they show that even during the point being played. Sure at times it does get a bit excessive, but in those moments even if I can tune out the caveman sounds, I find my mind wandering and wondering. Sometimes I think about what it would have been like if I had continued my tennis playing and attempted to break into the major levels of the game, other times I question decisions of the players as far as shot selection and placement. Most times though, especially in the women's game, I can't help to think to myself,

 <Kyle (my inner monologue's name)>. <Kyle,> I say, <I wonder if the grunts the women make on court are the same as they are in the bedroom.>

This often times sparks a debate or anger in women in general, as they think I'm a pig. And maybe I am. But if you've ever watched women's tennis, as a man (even if you're not a man but you try to think like one now and again), you can't help but think that. How satisfying it must be, in the throes of passion, as you rail a beautiful woman, to hear such noise and passion. The fact that you could be the one to ellicit such sounds would be a powerfully addictive thing indeed. Every day would become a drug seeking adventure with you begging, pleading, and seeking out the sounds that bring you climactic realization. And how magnificent a feeling when that happens!

Okay, that's it. That's my chauvanistic thought train for the day. And also, to quote David Mitchell, especially since Sharapova just went down in the final, "In the women's game, why does the pretty one always lose to the moose?"

A Fleeting Thought

So, in the course of watching the Rangers game just now as I penned the previous post, I watched a commercial. Not out of the ordinary, but it seemed to reaffirm everything I believe about America as a whole. The commercial was for Taco Bell's new XXL something something burrito.

 In it, there are all manner of various representatives of other countries questioning the sanity of Americans and the size of the food we portion. I have to agree...why the hell is everything so gargantuan? Not only that, but then everyone runs around asking why the obesity rate is skyrocketing. You can't be serious. You don't know?

Granted the commercial is going to be seen by the masses here as funny, mostly because, as I've learned through my experiences, the general American public en masse is retarded and can't understand little more than that they are alive for some reason. Okay, I could make this a much longer diatribe but I haven't the energy. And I'm missing the Rangers game.

The Book of Weasel (An Abbreviated History of Voice)

Chapter 1

1 In the beginning was silence. 2 Man, looking across creation, saw this and was content. 3 The vastness of all that lay before him was enough, for as long as he had food Man was happy. 4 And so it was that Man began to kill indiscriminately to make for himself food and clothing.

5 Soon though Man became consumed with desire. 6 And the desires were many, some good, some bad. 7 The desires of Man grew within him, and unencumbered, began to fester within him. 8 Man wanted nothing more than to express his desires in some way. 9 Man knew not how to go about this, knowing only to how to kill. 10 However, Man also knew that the red liquid from animals he murdered stained the blades of the grass and rocks around him. 11 And so, Man began to dip into the blood his fingers and mark the rocks around him trying to communicate his desires. 12 After many trials, Man was able to, in some ways, depict his desires upon the rocks. 13 And Man was again content.

14 Drawings soon became strewn across Man's dominion. 15 He began to grow confused by his own creation, and was again consumed with desire to clearly solicit his thoughts. 16 Knowing nothing but murder and art, Man was growing more and more angry at having his desires and thoughts go unheeded. 17 The anger boiled over in him, and Man for the first time discovered his own powers were not limited to a life of unanswered pictograms and swift death. 18 Man ushered forth his will, resulting in a feeble, nondescript gutteral grunting. 19 The grunting of Man signified in him a great accomplishment. 20 And Man soon learned to point while forming his sounds, and this greatly increased the efficacy with which all Man's desires were unlocked before him. 21 And Man was content a third time.

22 Man and his grunt were soon the most feared creature in all creation. 23 Beast and bird, feral and fowl, soon learned the sound of Man and grew to understand the grunt as warning. 24 Man, the eternal hunter, stealth and swarthy, had given into his own desires for communication, and in so doing doomed his own greatest asset. 25 No longer could Man wander the realms and kill indiscriminately, he would need to develop another desire. 26 Thus was born self-control. 27 Man became aware that the ability to grunt was not that he must do so constantly, and Man soon began to alternate silence with grunt ushering in again his ability to hunt effectively. 28 As result of Man's newfound ability to control his gruntings, Man stumbled upon conversation. 29 Man was again master of his domain, killing at will and communicating the details of his kill to his fellows. 30 And Man was content.

31 One day, Man, while tromping through the wood, began expirimenting with his grunt. 32 This was much to his liking, as the days had grown in monotony of sound and duty. 33 In order that Man break up his boredom, he began trying to change the sound he could make. 34 And Man practiced this, and over time grew able to make different sounds. 35 With different sounds, Man discovered he could indicate a variety of things without need of pointing as he grunted. 36 Thus Man invented meaning and was content.

37 Man and his meaning were soon forever linked as infallible. 38 Yet even so, Man was soon grown discontented again. 39 He desired again to change his surrounding. 40 He desired more meaning and more sound. 41 And so it was that Man, in his growing capacity for self-actualization, opened his mouth for the first time. 42 Whence cameth the opening of the mouth of Man, he grunted and was taken aback. 43 The grunt had become noise both loud and resonant. 44 And Man expounded his understanding and began to form his lips to alter the noise. 45 With practice Man was soon able to formulate noise that expressed the sounds he heard in his world. 46 Thus was born speech, and though infantile Man knew this was good and was content.

47 Man, now with ability to make speech, began to practice this. 48 He sat daily jibbering and jabbering in his home forming new sounds. 49 He combined sounds together and in succession, trying to make more and more sense of his world. 50 Soon Man differentiated his sounds giving meaning and name to things he saw. 51 And Man grew excited by his discoveries. 52 He became determined. 53 The sounds of Man would become his greatest asset. 54 And Man learned that he soon could form words. 55 Unfortunately for Man, this meant that also Wo-Man soon learned speech and words. 56 And though now Man was forever doomed to listen to Wo-Man never shut up, Man was content.

Chapter 2

1 With speech fully learned by Man, he set about making more complex the gift he gave himself. 2 And thus Man became aware that through speech he could tell others of his adventures. 3 Thus Man gave birth to spoken word. 4 The oratory ability became all the rage and Man and his contemporaries soon began to craft new words and manipulate speech into stories. 5 Man was content.

6 The spoken word of Man was to become the predominant force in his ability to practice dominion over beast and other Men as well. 7 The words of Man were of great use in communicating desire and want. 8 And Man practiced his words to be effective and memorable. 9 For even though Man could communicate, he was aware that if no other Man recalled his words they were no good. 10 And Man became consumed with desire to put words into permanent form. 11 Thus Man stepped back and designed language to be written. 12 And Man was content.

13 The written form of Man's speech proved difficult in that he was not able to produce his language where all Men could then know it. 14 This was not Man's fault entirely. 15 Man had neglected that to know language in written form, Man would need to be able to read it. 16 Thus the need for literacy was born and Man soon began to educate his familiars. 17 The spreading of language and literacy soon grew. 18 And Man became content again.

19 The production of literature by Man soon became tantamount in his eyes. 20 But because the demand was great, Man struggled to keep up. 21 Being resourceful and ingenious, Man soon invented a machine to reproduce his language onto paper. 22 And so it was that printed language fostered education of Man, and it was good in his eyes. 23 Man, now able to educate himself, found that invention could swiftly be at his fingertips. 24 And Man was again contented.

25 Through study Man became a great inventor. 26 Trial and error his nemesis but greatest teacher. 27 And Man soon developed electricity to light his way as he invented more things from his language and education. 28 And Life was good, and Man was content.

29 Electricity became all the rage. 30 And Man invented a great many things at its hand, all the while increasing his voice and speech and language. 31 Telephonic devices and televisionary machines and computational components, all were Man's desires and his voice gave life to them in accordance with his will. 32 Man soon discovered his ability to communicate was no longer limited to those only around him. 33 He could express himself to all Men around the world without fear of travel. 34 And Man grew content.

35 Man, now imbued with his need to communicate with others around the world, began to do so at his will. 36 He had grown his voice to be heard by the masses, indiscriminately killing all Men with his ideas and wonders and desires. 37 And though Man was killing his familiars, so conversely were they he. 38 The amount of ideas being voiced soon grew loud and begged for a place to be localized. 39 Thus the internet blog was born. 40 And Man was content.

41 With the invention of a civilized forum to placate Man and his ideas, came also a revision of the language he so long toiled to perfect. 42 Propriety and syntax of voice gave way to convenience and sloth. 43 Man discovered his abilities were once again waning toward the days of grunts and gutteral throat noises. 44 N Man b kuntnt.