A great morning.

I awoke from my three-hour pause in consciousness the way I usually do. Abruptly. A flock of poorly synthesized birds screech a song from the small clock on my improvised nightstand - a steel cabinet, capable of withstanding a canon blast, which I use to store my medicine and cleaning supplies. The birds push my body to move, growing louder until they reach a point where the noise is no longer discernable as "chirping," but as an onslaught of high-frequency, vessel-bursting clatter that easily tears through the dorm walls.

Countless innocents are depending on me for a pleasant morning. I cannot fail them.

I silence the birds with one swift strike. It is well-practiced and precise. I've trained for years.

But then the low hits me. The downside jump-starting your day with adrenaline is that it quickly fades once the threat's been neutralized. The room is quiet again and I'm still in bed. My body is heavy. My eyes won't synch with my brain. I have to pee.

Now, that last one may seem like a good reason to get up, but somehow I manage to reset the alarm. I don't remember if I sleep or not. I probably just go limp and don't move for a while. I'm conscious, but inert.

I blink and the ungrateful avian bastards, revived through my infinite mercy, recommence their assault. Perhaps they proclaim their joy of living, or perhaps they sing my praises. I strike them down. The wound is non-fatal . . . striking the wrong pressure point maims their vocals, which persist in a cold "ehhhhhhhhhhhh!" It's hard to listen to. I finish it quickly.

Next is a quick shower; it gets the blood flowing and cleans out my eyes. I dress and brush and look in the mirror - there's no time to shave. There is work to be done. There is work to be done and there is little time.

And I'm hungry.

There is work to be done and I'm hungry.

Hungry people cannot get work done.

Shoes and a jacket. Sunglasses. Fuck, it's bright. I walk with a skip because it's early, and I can probably make breakfast. Man, those eggs are gonna be good. I mean, the eggs are terrible, but they'll be good because they're breakfast. And breakfast is a change.

I get to the caffeteria and swipe my card.

"It's continental, you know."

"Huh?"

"Breakfast is over and lunch hasn't started yet. There's no food."

". . . "

I go in and find that breakfast is still out. It's just picked-apart and getting cold. I grab a bunch of runny eggs with cheese, then some diced potatoes and a bagel with cream cheese. Once I have a table, I get a glass of orange juice and three cups of coffee. It's all fuel for writing. Except the potatoes. They're too hard and gross to eat.

Caffeteria eggs and caffeteria coffee are known to induce what can best be described as "rectal prolapse." I feel the sudden urge to clear out, and leave. On my way back, I meet a squirrel. He sits on the wall next to me, eating a nut. He doesn't run from me, so I start a conversation.

"Sup, squirrel?"

"Just chillin' out. Eatin' a nut."

"That's cool."

"Yeah."

"Well, see ya."

"Later."

And I keep walking. Do I have a cookie? I think I have a cookie. I eat it while I walk past the fitness center. The joggers are jogging in the window. Mmm, cookie.

The sun's warm and I stop walking. I smile. I'm alive and it's feeling pretty good. The paper's due in eight hours, and I didn't get much done last night. I've gotta get to work.

I've got a lot of work to do. No time left. The next eight hours will be grueling, and all because I couldn't make myself work three days ago. I barely worked last night.

And now? I laugh. I'm going to pump out a paper I care nothing about because it's what I do. I have one thing to do and no choice but to do it. There is only the paper. My life is forfeit.

And I laugh. It's a good cookie. The sun feels nice. My body doesn't want to stand, and I'm worn out from a sleepless week. A week of all-nighters in which nothing was accomplished. A weak of false effort.

And I laugh. Because fuck, I've been bored.

White Space

This


is


intriguing


because


the


spacing's


so


wide


But this catches your eye because it's more substantial and capable of holding your attention but not too long. If it were too long it would be dense and you might feel hesitant to read it and would probably end up skimming it.

This next bit is also small and compact which makes you comfortable with reading it, because it's easy on the eyes and you don't want to work too hard to get the information and it's just so small it won't intimidate you. It's safe and easy and you love it.

And rightfully so because this part is fucking dense. It goes on forever and there are so many words and it couldn't possibly be interesting but you know there must be a lot of stuff in there or else it wouldn't be so long but for God's sake why couldn't have broken it up a little? It looks big and scary and you don't want to get into it because it's not easy anymore and its starting to become a chore. Ok, so far so good it's not too difficult and I'm getting pretty far in this beastly freaking block of text but I'm working pretty hard here and the sentences will start to run together if the block of text gets repetitive and I'll have to work hard here or the sentences get pretty freaking repetitive and this text works pretty hard here and I'm running out of patience and someone must have writer's block he's not working very hard and his sentences are pointless and someone will work hard enough to read it but I'm running out of patience and this is a pointless freaking block of text and do I really have to read this? I feel like I must be only half-way and at least it's moving again but my God it's slow and there's something interesting going on but it probably could've been simplified or presented better. I'm starting to lose interest and maybe I'll scan ahead and the next bit looks shorter but I'm already so far into this mess I may as well finish it must be near a point if it opens up so much in the next paragraph so this must be the meat and potatoes of it. I can't belive this thing is still going and did he really not have anything interesting to say it's so annoying it's like eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee and what the hell is that he's just filling space with nonsense and my eye got pulled here because it breaks up the repitition and I'm working pretty hard here and running out of patience, because it's pretty freaking dense and oh my god it's back to that again why can't he end this and move on to another paragraph my eyes can't breathe oh my god the whole thing's repeating I'm not reading that. And rightfully so because this part is fucking dense. It goes on forever and there are so many words and it couldn't possibly be interesting but you know there must be a lot of stuff in there or else it wouldn't be so long but for God's sake why couldn't have broken it up a little? It looks big and scary and you don't want to get into it because it's not easy anymore and its starting to become a chore. Ok, so far so good it's not too difficult and I'm getting pretty far in this beastly freaking block of text but I'm working pretty hard here and the sentences will start to run together if the block of text gets repetitive and I'll have to work hard here or the sentences get pretty freaking repetitive and this text works pretty hard here and I'm running out of patience and someone must have writer's block he's not working very hard and his sentences are pointless and someone will work hard enough to read it but I'm running out of patience and this is a pointless freaking block of text and do I really have to read this? I feel like I must be only half-way and at least it's moving again but my God it's slow as turtle droppings and there's something interesting going on but it probably could've been simplified or presented better. I'm starting to lose interest and maybe I'll scan ahead are you actually reading this far? and the next bit looks shorter but I'm already so far into this mess I may as well finish it must be near a point if it opens up so much in the next paragraph so this must be the steak and potatoes of it. I can't belive this thing is still going and did he really not have anything interesting to say it's so annoying it's like eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeee and what the hell is that he's just filling space with nonsense and my eye got pulled here because it breaks up the repitition and I'm working pretty hard here and running the marathon, because it's pretty freaking dense and oh my god it's back to that again why can't he end this and move on to another paragraph my eyes can't breathe oh my god the whole thing's repeating oh god thank you it's over.

This part comes next, and it's not the shortest piece on the page but compared to the last bit it's a godsend because man this is tiny. I can just let my eyes dance over it and no one has to work hard and I'm reading for pleasure dammit I shouldn't have to work hard. Everything's really spreading out again and it feels much more free.

A one-liner is a nice break so I'll pay attention to it.

Here comes the bottom, now. This thing is almost over and I can see that it's smooth sailing from here. Everything's open and loose and I can relax and take my time now.

Another gentle wave of text keeps things easy and smooooth. I can keep this going all day, but I know I don't have to because there's the end coming up in just a little bit.

Next is this which is almost the end, but I can see he'll end with a single line that's probably supposed to be clever or insightful, and he definitely wants me to pay attention to it. So here it comes and it's gonna be the final word

And here it is. This is the end.

A Science of Laughter

Practitioners of Zen believe that humor is the highest form of expression, because it can transcend language. Generally, a joke doesn't need to be explained to someone. It is what it is and it's funny. They love puns and riddles.

So the Zen Buddhists place comedy as the highest form of expression, while other cultures place it among the lowest. The latter seems a bit pretentious, don't you think? So let's give the Zennies the benift of the doubt and trust their wisdom.

What is funny? Comedy takes many forms, but humor is mostly a privelege. A social privelege, as a matter of fact. Humor relies on degrees of "separation;" that is, a person's ability to enjoy a joke is dependant on their freedom from hindering social factors. If the ideal is the purity of mind to embrace humor, then factors that detract from a person's ability to laugh at something are restrictions on a person's mind. Such factors include personal strife, trauma, and pressure as a result of such things as terrible experiences, racism, or social construction.

In other words, a holocaust survivor is less likely to be able to appreciate a joke about the holocaust. An individual that has been plagued by racial violence will have difficulty finding a racist joke amusing. An uneducated person will not grasp wordplay. A person raised to be concerned with "proper" ettiquette or behavior may be too serious to enjoy off-color humor.

One joke may amuse one individual and offend another. The difference is in each's level of separation from the material. A person that cannot escape the negative factors that hinder humor will be restricted in their openness to certain types of humor. It's widely unavoidable, though pitiable, if the goal is an ability to laugh at everything.

Separations are also temporal. For some, separation increases with time, so a joke that may be "too soon" now may be more acceptable later. More likely, the lack of separation is just magnified by the proximity of the topic. On a wider spectrum, temporal separation reflects differences in humor between generations.

Humor is a privelege. The highest point of mental liberation is to find humor in any subject. If you hear a joke that offends you, the immediate reaction is "that's not funny." The truth is that your experiences or background have left you enslaved to a hindering force that makes you unable to appreciate the humor. You are not as priveleged as those that can laugh. While you are surely able to laugh at other things, you're limited in what you can laugh at. You're trapped by your need to hold subjects sacred or taboo.

If there is a divinity, if there is an enlightenment . . . its symptom is laughter.

Waxing Philosophical

I rarely share my inner thoughts on the internet, but I'm looking to change that. To get the ball rolling, here are some quick ideas on a few areas.

1) Religion

My chief criticism of Christianity is supplied by its own creation story. Adam and Eve are banished for tasting the forbidden fruit of the tree of knowledge. So the great original sin is learning. Mm, convenient.

All religions are equally valid. They fulfill a social function and attempt to provide answers that humans desire. They are dangerous enforcers of binaries (heaven-hell, God-man, good-bad, believer-heathen) that always favor one and marginalize the other.

There is no such thing as an absolute. Nothing is purely one but not the other. There is no universal right or wrong, and no such thing as Truth.

And I've found that when you abandon the need for Truth, you become much more open to perspectives.


2) Police

I hate the police. For one thing, I can't criticize them without being called ungrateful. Yes, the police protect me, but did I ask them to? I never had a say in the matter. I'd rather protect myself.

Now, with my talk of binaries before, I'd be a hypocrite to accuse all cops of being dicks. They aren't. Many are really great guys who believe they're doing a great service. Others might be decent guys just doing a job. Some are dicks that want to be a tough guy.

My main problem with police is that when they happen to be dicks, you feel as though there's nothing you can do about it. They're the man, after all. But people forget that they work for us. We pay them. We're the ones they're meant to serve. They should answer to us and be accountable for how they treat us. I personally think they should be required to announce their name and badge number when they pull over a vehicle. Like a free "how's my driving" prompt that reminds people that they have the right to be treated well. If this person isn't doing their job well, they should be reprimanded or fired. Simple as that.

Man, I should be mayor. Anyway, some people are aware of this relationship and tend to be given more respect by cops. Typically these people are older white males. This is generalizing, but the fact is that young adults and especially teenagers get a lot of undeserved shit from the police by virtue of being young, and minorities deal with it too.

Unchecked power will be abused. Period. Cops should be held to a higher standard and monitored more. Especially in low-crime suburbs where they've got no excuse for their behavior but boredom.

3) Love

Get over this word. The love I have for a friend is the same I have for my mom is the same I have for a girlfriend. The experiences make the feelings and the nature of the relationship. Anything else is sexual. "Love at first sight" is bullshit. You feel attracted to and infatuated with a person and then tack on deeper things later if you're lucky.

4) Life

Life is a game, and some people play to win. I just want to have fun playing. The length of the game doesn't matter . . . I'd prefer something longer than checkers or Hungry Hungry Hippos, but shorter than Monopoly. Risk is a good, long life. Err, game. Life should be a good game of Risk. You should piss off your friends, conquer all you see, and defend Kamchatka.

And stop cheating. Games aren't fun if they're too easy.

5) Reproduction

I shall have one child. Male or female. He/She shall be raised to be developed physically and mentally. He/She will be raised a ninja. My child will be educated to choose his/her own beliefs and be informed of the limitations of existing beliefs and knowledge surrounding him/her. My child will pick a gender, so that this paragraph will be easier to type.

6) History

History is subjective and is therefore inescapably linked to literature. Only basic facts are undeniable; the rest is relative to the presenting perspective, with the dominant force's story being the most widely accepted.

7) Mathematics

Advanced mathematics deal widely with theoretical numbers and concepts. Once real numbers go out the window and imaginary numbers become the basis for formulae (imaginary numbers, not variables), I feel that mathematics lose their validity, as they are no longer tied to the natural world and the numbers become meaningless. It's a system of logic that transcends any reality it can be applied to.

8) Randomness

Does not exist. Randomness is an illusion, and represents a result beyond the receiver's ability to predict. For example, when a die is rolled, the result is not random. The sides of the cube are turned by the released energy determined by the force, distance, and angle of the roll, as well as other factors. These collective forces determine the number; it is "random" because we cannot perceive and process all of these factors to predict a result. In a computer program that generates a "random" number, the program pulls values from a variety of places such as a timer that the user cannot see or perhaps follow. The variable does not come from nowhere, and no equation produces "random" answers.

9) Science

The biological will become indistinguishable from the mechanical and cybernetics will lead us into a post-human era. Our bodies are as programmable via drugs and gene manipulation as machines are via computers. Machines currently supplement our physical and mental abilities and soon our biomechanical minds will allow us to store and process data never before possible and we will march toward omnipotence behind the latest advancements in cyber-porn, which naturally pushes the industry and leads to each breakthrough in technology.

10) Turtles

Turtles fucking kick ass.










And there you have it. Deep, deep thoughts.

Thoughts so deep, you'll drown.

In thought juice.







It's sticky.

A day at the theater

I saw a few shows recently. Some are movies, some are broadway musicals. Here's a quick run-through of what I thought of them.


1) Les Miserables

Longest running show on Broadway for a reason. It was so good I bought the soundtrack. Arguably the best musical out there, superior to "Phantom" in every way. Everyone should see it at least once.

2) Equilibrium

The best and worst movie I've ever seen. Let me explain. The movie is like the Matrix mixed with 1984 and Fahrenhite 451, so you get that classic dystopian social commentary with some kick-ass fighting and a traditional hollywood ending. That's where the paradox comes in, for me. It's really refreshing to have the protagonist in a 1984-ish break out of his hopeless situation and kick some ass. It's what we want to happen in those stories. We want the guy to win and liberate himself and the people around him.

But, well, having that neat ending where everything's fixed by killing the bad guy sort of defeats the purpose of those stories. They have endings like that for a reason, even if they're not what we as an audience want. It's too easy. So the ending feels cheap.


3) The Producers

Danza, bitch! Do I need to say anything about The Producers? You've probably seen the movie with Nathan Lane and . . . Ferris Bueller, so you know what it's all about. It's bigger and better in Broadway, and the fact that I was flanked on all sides by little old ladies really enhanced the experience.


4) 300

This movie was so manly it made me crap my pants, only when I looked in my pants it was actually a steak. Yes, you heard it. This film will make you crap a steak.




That about covers it. Ciao.

Sexy.

Spring break has arrived!

Whoo?

It seems my break is a week earlier than most of the fold, which I find a tad inconvenient.

It's a nice day today. My medication has just ended and my infection is clearing up nicely.

I will strive to be productive this week. Ninjapirateofficial.com has been updated. It is sleek and sexy now.

Resist the urge to lick your screen.



Ok, go for it.