21 July 2011

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.

15 July 2011

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.

14 July 2011

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.

08 July 2011

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.

05 July 2011

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)