there goes my gun

Nersh, we are now one in "I feel like I am going to die-ness." Sometime in between last night and the present, I think I swallowed a fistful of nails and washed them down with Draino.(substitute for content)

777

Wow. Giger was 62 today. Someone had better hurry the eff up with creating an infinite life-preservation module.

There is nothing left to say!

One view on the belief-outlining essay.....that's why people don't write on beliefs and persuasions anymore-- at least not widely. (LJ and other projects being a sort of deviation. Heh.) Everything has already been said for them. It's like convenient shopping. Pick your stance on anything! Religion, government, human & animal rights, sociopolitical issues, sex, drugs, capitalism, meat in a can... there's already a written statement-- probably a good thousand-- available on every aspect of every topic imaginable. Ask someone where they thought the government should be headed during the 2000 election, and they'd likely just reiterate plans by their candidate of choice. Maybe even hand over some xeroxed propaganda. It doen't matter because the views are one in the same. Just less work & conveniently packaged for the average citizen. Like cheez-whiz. (Damn it! Every time I hear "cheez whiz" I think of fecking Bryan Erikson. And then pork rinds.) That brings us to the question: who had the ideas first? No one knows. They're passed on and on indefinitely, shifting slightly and revised for particular purposes. -------Besides, I already have extensive conversations about these issues with people I know. I read up on it and rant & rave mentally & verbally like anyone else. Why do I need to clutter the written world with even more bitching and rehashed verbatim, especially when it's already been said & ten times more eloquently? It's not laziness or amotivation... just that the need doesn't seem readily present. Time better spent on other things, seemingly... less on my shoulders.... not proud of it. It's probably always been like that. Few produce. I don't know. Just the way things have been skewed today. Kind of like staggering across the ice and completely eating shit in the parking lot after class, with a bag full of 20 pounds of STUFF landing on top of me and almost getting run over by thee go-tard van. I'm like a bad comic book character. Stupid random off-the-wall things keep happening but NONE OF IT IS AMUSING. Then I'd get cancelled after two issues and the creator would be workin' the corner for cans of fruit cocktail $1.99 and massive kicks... the suckers with tequila worms inside. I remember those. The ghetto convenience store in the town where I grew up always had them at the counter. They were... like... WOW. Utmost fascination. Mealy. I wasn't brave enough to inquire.And then---- after coming home and instantly flying out to the mailbox, receiving nothing but more goddamn advertisements (i.e. no subconscious special sauce) I cracked my hand against the door frame and have been feeling it ever since. Owwwww... I was all set to complete some half-finished drawings, but I can't even manipulate a pencil. I think everything's still in once piece, just momentarily fucked. At least I hope that's all it is. Maybe it'll stop hurting if I drink some more.

nemesis onlinE

The most gratuitously overused term in (sub)culture:How do you define pretension?

wow, people are deep at 3:30am. (&sarcasm)

Decision of the moment: there are few things more abjectly cruel than time.I said something about learning German in an earlier entry. The punks have had a German textbook laying around for ages. I think it was produced by a dumpster. It denies you freshmaker! Anyway, maybe I should look into it d.i.y. style. Bad pronunciation aside, I'd at least know how to say more than just stuff like NEGATIV NEIN! No... never mind. I'm going to delete some of that now..... <---The "journal issues" I talked about a week or so ago were mainly centered around how I'm sick of coming across as ridiculous and nothing else. No one can stand reading this anymore. That's not going to change anytime soon. Serious writing is not for the internet's public display. There's a definite line drawn there, at least for me. It's not going to get any better. Eff it. Especially at 3:30am. CATHARSIS! KIND OF!There were also stories about radar antennae men with obscenely large cases of soup & mullets & Michael Dukakis bumperstickers. He kept staring at me with an expression that clearly stated, "Uhuh huh huh... hey, bab-eh. Do you wanna... like... bump rumps in the trailer while teh missus is out wit teh youngin's? Uhhh huh huh huh."I was trying to think of some kind of way to sum up that event, but it's not coming.

they say s/he has no brain

New site is finished! Relocated here. In the end the process & the product came together differently than planned, but at least everything works. It looks too fragment-y pretentious-y just like every other personal site out there, the difference being that it has eggs and nails and ogres. (MINISTRY R0X0R5!!!111! Mostly that video. And Bad Blood because Al man-handles Paul Barker. Ha! I'll stop with it now. For good.)I was debating whether or not to include pictures of myself aside from the very nondescript (and old) ones already there. All too often people get so carried away with making a spectacle out of themselves that it completely overrides the content. Then again, I guess that's what "personal" sites are for. Who cares about content anymore? What I need is a webcam. Then I could switch on thee groovemaker and wiggle in front of it like a... a thing that wiggles. In turn, that may start off a chain reaction ending with rabid internet denizens buying me stuff. I do not fully understand this. It's a fuct, fuct, fuct, fuct world. *smirk* Any opinions on the subject of pictures are welcome.Why don't they pass a law making food labels simply state that a product is vegan? Things would be a hell of a lot easier.

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WAU! The word "grok" is in the dictionary. Say whatever you want about Heinlein-- that book was about 398 pages too much for me to handle. I think I only got through it because I kept imagining that Mike the Martian looked like David Bowie.Last night I wrote an entry about issues I've been having with this journal. I can still see where I was coming from-- even if I had spent over 24 hours being awake at the time-- but I don't know if it needs to be posted. I worry about ridiculous things too much. Maybe I'll put it up again later. Stay tuned, and all that shite. Better than tee-vee, better than sex!Among other things, I feel really fucking cheap for never writing you.