Thursday, November 30, 2006

Paging Cyrus Fx...

You should go and post some tracks. Its a sweet electronic music community that I am kind of a part of. Dont know why I didnt email you about this instead of posting here.

also: should exist.

Vader owns Jude Law.

Yes, this is a link.

You may need a fairly hot CPU for the audio sync to work well when it loops.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Drinking on a Tueday Night

Who decided that our drinking should be limited to weekends? If I work all day, then host a club in my room, and finally work in the library for two hours, I think it's a perfectly healthy decision to drink most of a bottle of wine.

Other burning questions:
Who the hell is behind "the War on Christmas"?
Who's ready to fight me?
Is the new Bond movie actually good?
Who's your favorite high school English teacher?
How was your Thankgiving? (Like I care)
Why don't people understand that Borat is the funniest moviefilm of all time?
How did I resist the call of Taco Bell on the way home from the library this evening?
Why are we still in Iraq?
If God is so smart, why did he create ants?
It's cold here. That's not a question.
Why aren't my "support our troops" stickers helping us in the war on terror?
Why are old Final Fantasy games better than new RPGs?
At 5-6 and a four game winning-streak under their collective belt, can the Dolphins still make the playoffs?
My parents want to buy Sarah and I some sort of home entertainment system - how should I advise them?
Xbox 360 or Wii?
What's up with my bias against Sony? What did Sony ever do to me?
Matt, what's up with my bachelor party?
And finally, how's this?

Monday, November 27, 2006


I understand.
It seems to you that the world has gone insane.
But how can you really be sure that it's not just you that has gone insane?
The world out there is still functioning normally, but your perception of it is so altered as to make you think that everything has gone to hell.
The most important thing for us to do right now is try to pin down at what point, and for what reason, you came off your hinges and started drifting out of touch with reality.
Was it a single traumatic event or was it a slow process of disassociation?
Did anyone around you notice that something was off?
Did you ever try to get help?
When was the first time you questioned your own sanity?
Do you have a family history of mental illness?

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Young Jeezy wuz Here

This is a couple blocks from my apartment. I wish I could come up with a better caption, but it pretty much speaks for itself.

Monday, November 20, 2006

Sidious of the sea.

Memory Test

Who here remembers the 10-digit code to fight Mike Tyson?

I do. I'm just testing you guys.

The Sweet Release of Death

No, this wasn't taken around here -- off South Africa I believe.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Return of the Rat

MatthewQ gets up, dusts himself off.

"Wow, that was some hole I fell into".

I just read this on a Star Wars message board


The proper way to watch the saga is 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, watching all the films backwards using the rewind feature on your DVD player. The reason is because Star Wars films, like Beatles records, contain hidden messages and facts about the movies that are only revealed when viewing the movies backwards, such as:

“Boba Fett’s helmet and armor were originally built out of paper mache by George Lucas in the third grade for a school play.”

“Peter Mayhew didn’t have to wear a suit to play Chewbacca on the big screen, he just had to get constant haircuts to keep his hair the correct length.”

“Half of the budget for the original Star Wars was spent on hiring NASA to launch a second sun into orbit in order to properly film the famous ‘binary sunset’ scene. The second half of the budget was spent on cruise missiles to blow up the sun the next day. To this day we still don’t know which sun they shot down.”

“Darth Maul was not played by an actor, but was rather an actual demon that was possessing Rick McCallum’s waffle iron. After Rick performed the exorcism, he recommended the demon to George Lucas for the part.”

“While you were wasting your time watching these movies backwards, I stole your wallet and slept with your significant other/life partner.”

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

The Original Question

(this was culled and sanitized (or de-insanitized) from an archival blog of mine a couple years back, where I headily attempt to define man's "Original Question")

"The One Big Question," or, "The Biggest Question," is the final common denominator of all questions ever asked by mankind in linguistic form, and might best be posed as:

Why is there anything at all?

The point of understanding the concept of The One Big Question is to make the realization that every old question that has been answered generates a new question, one which deconstructs the presupposition and premise of the answer, and now begs its own individual, different answer. When we were kids, this concept is best know as the “Why Game,” where every answer to a question begs another question, “Well, why is that?”

For example, take the simple question,

"Why am I writing this?”
-Because I am bored at work.
“Why am I bored at work?”
-Because there is nothing to do at this particular moment.
“Why is there nothing for you to do?”
-Because I seek out the bare minimum of work to do.
“Why do you do that?”
-Because it is in my human nature.
“Why is it in your human nature?”
-Because I inherited such genes from my parents that are essential to the makeup of my work ethic (or lack thereof).
“Why did you inherit such genes?”
-Because of the unfolding of cosmic fate in such a way.
“Why did fate unfold in such a way?”
-Because of the initial conditions set at the time of the big bang, which brought forth anything and everything at all.
“Why is there anything at all?”
-Beats me. There just is.

The answer to The Biggest Question is always very unflattering - and it will remain so - but any question asked by man can be reduced in this manner through sequential deconstruction of presuppositions in our layers of reality.

(For about 5 years now, I've pondered why there is ANYTHING at all. Why did "time" happen in the first place, when its much simpler and easier to envision NOTHING happening EVER?)

8. Relatively soon afterwards, I was born and had to get a job.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

I'm lacking in patience
I'm rollin' on musty floorboards
I'm barely surviving in this place
Cobwebs and sharp heels
Thousand cuts on each leg
I'm overidulgent and overlysane
I'm killing the mood and disgracing the sacred space
Do you follow my lies back to the tributaries?
Do you fall asleep on your feet with partial connections?
I'm an intense study of impartial best practices
I'm a ragin' confession with pencil black eyes


Roger Federer unloaded on the tennis ball with an authoritative forehand stroke that sent it screaming down the line.

"Fuck yes, bitches!", he screamed in a Swiss accent.

He then ran to the bench and from his bag pulled a 24 oz bottle of Fosters, which he proceeded to pound.

Roger had found that the only way to keep tennis interesting, and to allow his opponents a chance, was to get totally ripped during matches.

He finished off the beverage then trotted back onto the court, wiping the suds from his upper lip.

"Now I have had seven beers and I am going to fuck you up in your ass, my friend, because I am the most skilled and professional tennis champion in the world."

Roger had also blazed huge before the match, having found that a little THC primer laid a solid groundwork for the procession of beers that inevitably followed.

Of course, the chair umpires and other officials had resisted at first, but Roger simply destroyed all those who opposed him, until ultimately, fear kept the local systems in line. Fear of this tennis player.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Rumsfeld's Greatest Hits

I was thinking about calling up Rush Limbaugh, getting on the program by pretending to be a rare Hawaii Republican, and then just saying, "Ha ha ha, ha ha ha, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...." But then I heard the announcement about Donny Rumsfeld and decided that would be just cruel.

So, as a parting tribute, and in memoriam, here is a list of

Don Rumsfeld's Greatest Hits:

Track Listing:

1. "Abu Ghraib Ass and Squirrel"

2. "Three Squares a Day at Gitmo Bay"

3. "What Insurgency?"

4. "One Of My Troops is Better Than Two Of Yours"

5. "Body Armor Blues"

6. "Back Off - Its Complicated!"

7. "I Serve to Pleasure the President"

8. "How to Be A General Without Fighting in a War"

9. "Auto-Penning the Deaths of Men"

10. "You Can Help Me By Fucking Off"

"Everyone duck, except for the bad guys."

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Two Hands

California Gubernatorial candidate Ross "Two Hands" Nimmelman had this to say on election morning:

"I believe in the principle of the idea of the paradigm that every American, regardless of sexual preference, employment status, brain power, chest circumference, or sexual preference, should be able to have a turkey sandwich, whenever they want one and with whomever they enjoy eating, while watching whatever program they might want to watch, that is if they have access to a television and are into watching TV while eating. Period!"

"Old Two Hands" then displayed his two, well-formed hands for the crowd, drawing raucous applause.

Ross continued, "Let me show you what I'm talking about. Hmmm... I'm feeling a bit hungry."

An aid then rushed to Nimmelman's side and served him a turkey sandwich.

Nimmelman took a hearty bite then grinned at the cameras and spoke, with condiments still dripping from his teeth: "It's that simple, people!"

Saturday, November 04, 2006

Finish your beer

-I have many thoughts
-That's it?
-Do you want to hear them?
-Do you gain further understanding through communication?
-YES! Maybe. no
-Are you sure?
-How can anyone be sure? *Air of pseudo-philosophy surrounds scene*
-Was that supposed to be deep or just a cop-out?
-Does it matter?
-To me or you?
-Both. Either. Neither.
-I guess so, but why do you talk so much then?
-I'm hiding.
-From what?
-Whatever needs to be hidden from.
-THAT'S a cop-out.
-Not really. If I knew what I was hiding from then I would'nt be hiding, you see?
-Understanding, again, right?
-Yes. More like information though.
-Do you WANT help?
-How could you help?
-Well, maybe I can help you understand what you are trying to escape.
-Oh, I know what I'm trying to escape.
-I'll be right back. By the way, do you have any...rope?
-No, why?
-No reason. Now I'm off.
*Gunshots heard in the background*
-Oh right, life.
-You're back!
-Are you glad?
-No, just surprised.
-Did you hear a...
-NO. I didn't hear anything.
-That's strange, I thought I heard...
-You were wrong. People hear things.
-Yeah, but this was real!
-How do you know?
-I guess you've got a point. Or do you?
-I was being deep again.
-Are you? I thought you were just an idiot.
-I just had a dream.
-Just right now. When you heard that "noise." *Snicker*
-What was it about?
-I was holding a...weapon...a gun or something...Maybe it wasn't a gun. Anyway, a bunch of people were rushing at me. The said it was very important...But...I just kept...Shooting them or whatever. I think. Right, so they kept coming...I was stunned; they wanted something from me...
-Well, you heard the gun shots!
-But you said!
-Who am I though?
-Where are you? Have you guessed?
-I don't know...I don't know...I DON'T KNOW!
-That's too bad.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Greg DeAbla was one tough nut to crack.

After 4 tours in Vietnam, he had learned a thing or two about man's lowest common demoninators and the certitudinal willpower required to maintain sanity and existence in the harshest of circumstances. At the worst of times, when he would look up to see the mud, and his memories of pain were the only ones he had to keep himself warm, he could still count on the bedrock ideals of freedom that awaited him at home in the states.

So he sure as shit wasn't going to stand for this. What had his country come to? What was once his "land of the free and the home of the brave" was now a cesspool of sexual deviance, socialism and moral decay -- the results of a societal over-pressing of tolerance for all things queer.

Even though Greg had defended his country from the great Red Menace, the Pink Hand was still flailing to victory.

"No gays are gettin' married -- not while I'm alive and can do somethin' about it, god dammit!" Greg stared at himself in the mirror as he readied his double-barrel shotty in the Reformed Unitarian Church of Boston bathroom. "This one's for you, Dubya, warn'tcha be proud if ya could see this..."