On December 20th, Diana dumped me. When the time comes, maybe I'll still make a post about her.
Until then, who the fuck knows.
Your Hero
- Fife
- You should find an "existential" reason to read this blog. Let it be whatever you want it to be. But I promise that you will not find that my facade is constructed by a socialite engineer, but a real person; a person who's life you can relate to your own.
24 December 2008
14 October 2008
And on the 6th day. . .
Ah yes, my job. I have six days left until I leave. Looking back on it I have had so many fond memories. Waking up and knowing that I don't have to go to work will be destructive. Oh wait, I forgot to mention the sarcasm that is oozing out of those previous sentences. I HATE my job and with the small amount of money I have made, I am leaving. I have six days left of this nonsensical occupation. Here are some of the "fond" memories I will forever take with me (the first part of this post I wrote several months ago. . .):
I categorize people during the time they walk around and in the bakery, here are some of them.
A. Waiters/Campers - When I'm scheduled to open, I wake at 5 a.m. During the longest day of the year, at 5 a.m. it's still dark out and chance of zombie attack is still relatively high. We open at 6:30 a.m. By six, there are actually people who sit in their cars and look at our store. Probably the most vivid memory of a waiter/camper as I call them, was a man who sat in his jeep cherokee, which was the only car within sight, and read the paper for about 20 minutes until we were in the final 15-20 minutes until the doors unlock. No joke, this dude stands there for the remaining time reading the paper. Another woman joins him. They stand there together. Then my co-worker goes to open the door and the camper waiters are pulling on the door so that the very instant the bolt slides back on the lock the door opens for them. . . WTF. WE SELL PASTRIES NOT CRACK. I mean honestly I'm not that great of a person to ask (well maybe I am) because bakery goods are not a real magnet for me but the stuff from the bakery that employs me is not exceptional (though most call it "the best"). I still don't see the draw to getting coffee cake before the sun comes up. It's not like if it is exposed to light it goes bad. . . Unless it's a vampire cake. Yeah, I know it looks like red velvet. . .
B. Pointers - I think old women are the best at getting up early. I mean, I know that is stereotypical especially on sundays, but I have statistical data, and receipts. Anywho, I'm not sure if it is lack of eyesight, or perhaps just senility setting in, but pointing at something in the store that is 40 feet away and proclaiming "I'll take two of those," just is not specific enough. I'm sorry Eleanor-Ruth but there are a lot of products being specified by your elegantly bony finger. There is a formula to find just how many products you are pointing to at any given time. (Y divided by two where Y is equal to your age)
C. Tellers - There is nothing like a customer who describes to you, what is best about your product. Here is just a sample for you to try:
Me: Hello, what can I get for you today?
Cust: Your fruit torte is so delectable the flavor is amazing!
Me: (chuckle) Well I'm glad you enjoyed it!
Cust: Oooh, soft pretzels! I remember my father used to buy them for me at market.
Me: It's good our products bring fond memories.
Cust: Are these rolls from today, the last time I tasted them I thought they were a little hard.
Me: (THATS WHY THEY ARE CALLED HARD ROLLS) Oh, well yes they were made this morning I personally saw them as they arrived I guarantee they are fresh.
Cust: I never really liked your bagels though, I was always partial to [other bakery].
Me: Sorry to hear that.
Cust: Your cookies are delicious, however, especially the sugared ones.
Me: Delicious is what we bake for.
Cust: I have always been a fan of your brownies as well
Me: Me too they are so moist.
Cust: I remember when this bakery was [in other location]
Me: That was a while ago wasn't it.
Cust: I think you should put more salt in the rye bread
Me: You could always add salt.
-Then the customer will proceed into the following options:
1. Get nothing and leave
2. Get the only thing in the store they did not look at or comment on
D. Askers - It would not surprise me if there was a hidden camera crew directed by a game show host being televised live on, "Memorize your inventory like elementary vocab!" with these people.
Cust: What is in this?
Me: An oatmeal coconut base glazed with a butter-sugar icing. As you can see the yellow in the middle of the oatmeal coconut sandwich is a lemon filling that is both tangy and sweet but not too much of either.
Cust: How bout this?
Me: A graham cracker cookie base with 3 layers of sponge cake, each one separated by exotic fruit jellies that you've never heard of. On top is a hand decorated white chocolate swirl. FYI the fruit was not touched my latin american migrant workers and it was flown in this morning by cybernetic fruit machines so it tastes like it fell out of the tree into your mouth.
Cust:And this?
Me: Well this is something really special. The elves in the back have had this recipe for generations. Before the garden of eden, there was the elves garden called "What if you could make the most intense aphrodisiacs grow on trees AND look like pastries?" But then some some guy name Ogd or something made this weird garden of Eden. Anywho, this may look like a normal cheesecake, but look again, the elves have been able to extract the DNA from the cheesecake tree in their ancient garden from a mosquito in amber and now cheesecakes grow on trees!
Cust: It all looks so wonderful I think I'll be back sometime next week to ask questions again!
E. Complainers - These are the kind of people who would argue with the mathematical fact that 2+2 is indeed 4 just to get two pennies back, save half a second, or get a sick satisfaction out of making your breathing more exacerbated than it really needs to be. These are the people who make comments like:
"Ummm, your coffee is not empty at all but I just dont think 211 degree is hot enough. I would prefer it if you could make another pot of coffee and bring it out while its boiing. . ."
AND
"Can i feel the bread. When was this made? Oh wow just today? Really just 3 hours ago because it feels really hard like its been out here for three weeks. . ." (if you want i could just run back and grab some bread dough for you that has not been cooked it's usually nice and soft.)
AND
"Are you serious? 8 Dollars for a pound of cookies!? Wait you expect to make some kind of profit. I thought you were running a promotion for a charity. . ."
Complainers can also be characterized by doing things like:
Ordering a cake, purchasing it, taking it home, eat all by half a piece, and bringing it back complaining, "I ordered a cake that was chocolate on the left and yellow on the right. Well it was all chocolate.
Me: yes mam it looks like that last sliver of a piece is chocolate. and it is on the left side.
Yeah well, I want a full refund.
Me: I understand and I sympathize but I won't pay you back for a cake you ate.
Yeah but we didn't enjoy it.
Me: Well I'm sorry but you still ate it.
MAN WHATEVER IM NEVER COMING BACK
Me: Well I hate to lose a customer but try saying there was a hair in the cake with the next bakery, it's more compelling.
AND
(It takes a good 30 seconds to a minute to make a box. It takes a good minute to two minutes to select a dozen donuts and put them in the box. Imagine a line of five different customers anxiously awaiting bakery crack. 90 seconds is relatively close to infinity.
You bag two dozen donuts. Then:
"Oh my gosh you bagged them. I'm soooo sorry could you like do you think just put them in a box that was be so great and im running a little late so if you could like you know try to speed it up that would be so fantastic you would like be my favorite."
-=-=-=+OK Part II+=-=-=-
F. Agents - I don't know whether these (mostly women) think they are on some kind of world saving top secret mission or something but they certainly act it. They usually some in around lunchtime. You can tell who they are before you see them because you see their cars, and how they are driven. Typically large SUVs or expensive sporty looking cars. They come in looking like they just played tennis with other rich white people, or like they same from the same business meeting as "Jan," from 'The Office.'
Incredibly polite (and by polite I mean to say that they take time out of there NASA compressed schedule to look at you and sometimes even speak). Often times they walk through the door and stop me at "goo-" or "hel-" to announce their order as if by a king.
"Rogers, an order for Rogers. . ."
I then look up their name in our order book and attempt to confirm the items of purchase. Often while doing this as a professional and personal attempt on my part, they become confused and anxious like a cat in water. Since they have been on a cellphone the entire time they are forces to say "hold on," and frantically inquire,
"yes that was my order is it here!? is everything OK? I called it in last week and the person who took the order was an older sounding woman. . ."
I really do my best to reassure them by showing them the item they called in, "yes, it is here I'm sorry for the confusion there are no problems."
Just let me cut in here real quick. Confusion? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE if you think that confirming an order with someone is cause for confusing please email be at: etokarinae@gmail.com and explain to me how I can do better. I am genuinely concerned that I have some kind of anxiety release on people because of these outrageous panics that come over people followed by an apology as if it were MY fault. . . UGH!!! six more days.
Then they get the order and sign for their credit card and leave without saying thank you or anything. Often times eye contact is not even attempted.
I had a particular case the other day in which a woman came in and strolled about the store. She waltzed around on her cellphone looking at everything and looking at nothing. Tired of watching her talk about medical issues on her pleasure stroll, I turned to grab a swig of my water from the back. As I twisted into this 180 degree maneuver, I her violent snapping. The customer had actually put her hand in the air and snapped a signal for me to come over, though she never left the phone conversation. She started writing in the air as a sign for me to grab paper for her? I guessed correctly and she wrote down her order and then continued her Nokia Waltz. I grabbed her items and rang them up. I want to say her total was around 19.96 or something. She put down a 20 and left, without saying a single word to me. It's OK though because that cellphone of hers WILL cause cancer, karma said so. . .
G. Inept Mothers - Yes. These are the mothers that refer directly to their children as "psychopath." Since when was it OK to say to a four year old, "Oh Johnny you're such a little psychopath." Hello! mom did you just get out of your straight jacket or what!?
Also the mothers who like to say, "point to what you want!" She's five! I think it's time to say use words, because frankly, banging on the glass/pointing to your food reminds me of caged animals and monkeys at the zoo.
H. Co-Workers - We all have them. Sometimes we luck out. I have two people in particular that I work with who I get along with. Maybe even three. But at the end of the day it's difficult to look back and say I had mostly good experiences with them. I am plagued by people telling me what to do. I admit that I have a horrible work ethic while I am there. I generally try to help as many customers as I can and do the dishes as little as possible. But then again I try to make it into a game, I try to have fun at job. I don't want to be bored and sleepy all day because I hate where I am. My co-workers don't need that apparently. They like to tell me to sweep. It's the way they say it though. The rhetoric of it:
"Would you like to sweep?"
"Would you like to do the stales?"
"Would you like to make the calls and faxes?"
Well, of course. My dreams have escalated to those things. The epitome of my time on this earth has coalesced with all my dreams and aspirations in this moment to perform those tasks!
I mean of course I will get stuff done in time that WE and more importantly I can get the "Lucifer's Lair" outta here!
Not to mention the people that tell me to do these tasks have worked at this bakery for less time than I have. . .
Oh well. Only 40+ hours for the ETA = Eternity 'Till Absence. Also I heard a very funny conversation a few days ago that went something like this:
Man: Kapira, I told you I got work like six minutes ago.
Kapira?
Man: Yuh, I am late.
Kapira?
Man: Look at me right now Kapira doe it look like I care if I make it to yo auntie party?
Wait wait wait, sir, you are on a cell phone. Did you mean "listen to me does it sound"
Feel free to use this wallpaper, it's quite jammin'.
I categorize people during the time they walk around and in the bakery, here are some of them.
A. Waiters/Campers - When I'm scheduled to open, I wake at 5 a.m. During the longest day of the year, at 5 a.m. it's still dark out and chance of zombie attack is still relatively high. We open at 6:30 a.m. By six, there are actually people who sit in their cars and look at our store. Probably the most vivid memory of a waiter/camper as I call them, was a man who sat in his jeep cherokee, which was the only car within sight, and read the paper for about 20 minutes until we were in the final 15-20 minutes until the doors unlock. No joke, this dude stands there for the remaining time reading the paper. Another woman joins him. They stand there together. Then my co-worker goes to open the door and the camper waiters are pulling on the door so that the very instant the bolt slides back on the lock the door opens for them. . . WTF. WE SELL PASTRIES NOT CRACK. I mean honestly I'm not that great of a person to ask (well maybe I am) because bakery goods are not a real magnet for me but the stuff from the bakery that employs me is not exceptional (though most call it "the best"). I still don't see the draw to getting coffee cake before the sun comes up. It's not like if it is exposed to light it goes bad. . . Unless it's a vampire cake. Yeah, I know it looks like red velvet. . .
B. Pointers - I think old women are the best at getting up early. I mean, I know that is stereotypical especially on sundays, but I have statistical data, and receipts. Anywho, I'm not sure if it is lack of eyesight, or perhaps just senility setting in, but pointing at something in the store that is 40 feet away and proclaiming "I'll take two of those," just is not specific enough. I'm sorry Eleanor-Ruth but there are a lot of products being specified by your elegantly bony finger. There is a formula to find just how many products you are pointing to at any given time. (Y divided by two where Y is equal to your age)
C. Tellers - There is nothing like a customer who describes to you, what is best about your product. Here is just a sample for you to try:
Me: Hello, what can I get for you today?
Cust: Your fruit torte is so delectable the flavor is amazing!
Me: (chuckle) Well I'm glad you enjoyed it!
Cust: Oooh, soft pretzels! I remember my father used to buy them for me at market.
Me: It's good our products bring fond memories.
Cust: Are these rolls from today, the last time I tasted them I thought they were a little hard.
Me: (THATS WHY THEY ARE CALLED HARD ROLLS) Oh, well yes they were made this morning I personally saw them as they arrived I guarantee they are fresh.
Cust: I never really liked your bagels though, I was always partial to [other bakery].
Me: Sorry to hear that.
Cust: Your cookies are delicious, however, especially the sugared ones.
Me: Delicious is what we bake for.
Cust: I have always been a fan of your brownies as well
Me: Me too they are so moist.
Cust: I remember when this bakery was [in other location]
Me: That was a while ago wasn't it.
Cust: I think you should put more salt in the rye bread
Me: You could always add salt.
-Then the customer will proceed into the following options:
1. Get nothing and leave
2. Get the only thing in the store they did not look at or comment on
D. Askers - It would not surprise me if there was a hidden camera crew directed by a game show host being televised live on, "Memorize your inventory like elementary vocab!" with these people.
Cust: What is in this?
Me: An oatmeal coconut base glazed with a butter-sugar icing. As you can see the yellow in the middle of the oatmeal coconut sandwich is a lemon filling that is both tangy and sweet but not too much of either.
Cust: How bout this?
Me: A graham cracker cookie base with 3 layers of sponge cake, each one separated by exotic fruit jellies that you've never heard of. On top is a hand decorated white chocolate swirl. FYI the fruit was not touched my latin american migrant workers and it was flown in this morning by cybernetic fruit machines so it tastes like it fell out of the tree into your mouth.
Cust:And this?
Me: Well this is something really special. The elves in the back have had this recipe for generations. Before the garden of eden, there was the elves garden called "What if you could make the most intense aphrodisiacs grow on trees AND look like pastries?" But then some some guy name Ogd or something made this weird garden of Eden. Anywho, this may look like a normal cheesecake, but look again, the elves have been able to extract the DNA from the cheesecake tree in their ancient garden from a mosquito in amber and now cheesecakes grow on trees!
Cust: It all looks so wonderful I think I'll be back sometime next week to ask questions again!
E. Complainers - These are the kind of people who would argue with the mathematical fact that 2+2 is indeed 4 just to get two pennies back, save half a second, or get a sick satisfaction out of making your breathing more exacerbated than it really needs to be. These are the people who make comments like:
"Ummm, your coffee is not empty at all but I just dont think 211 degree is hot enough. I would prefer it if you could make another pot of coffee and bring it out while its boiing. . ."
AND
"Can i feel the bread. When was this made? Oh wow just today? Really just 3 hours ago because it feels really hard like its been out here for three weeks. . ." (if you want i could just run back and grab some bread dough for you that has not been cooked it's usually nice and soft.)
AND
"Are you serious? 8 Dollars for a pound of cookies!? Wait you expect to make some kind of profit. I thought you were running a promotion for a charity. . ."
Complainers can also be characterized by doing things like:
Ordering a cake, purchasing it, taking it home, eat all by half a piece, and bringing it back complaining, "I ordered a cake that was chocolate on the left and yellow on the right. Well it was all chocolate.
Me: yes mam it looks like that last sliver of a piece is chocolate. and it is on the left side.
Yeah well, I want a full refund.
Me: I understand and I sympathize but I won't pay you back for a cake you ate.
Yeah but we didn't enjoy it.
Me: Well I'm sorry but you still ate it.
MAN WHATEVER IM NEVER COMING BACK
Me: Well I hate to lose a customer but try saying there was a hair in the cake with the next bakery, it's more compelling.
AND
(It takes a good 30 seconds to a minute to make a box. It takes a good minute to two minutes to select a dozen donuts and put them in the box. Imagine a line of five different customers anxiously awaiting bakery crack. 90 seconds is relatively close to infinity.
You bag two dozen donuts. Then:
"Oh my gosh you bagged them. I'm soooo sorry could you like do you think just put them in a box that was be so great and im running a little late so if you could like you know try to speed it up that would be so fantastic you would like be my favorite."
-=-=-=+OK Part II+=-=-=-
F. Agents - I don't know whether these (mostly women) think they are on some kind of world saving top secret mission or something but they certainly act it. They usually some in around lunchtime. You can tell who they are before you see them because you see their cars, and how they are driven. Typically large SUVs or expensive sporty looking cars. They come in looking like they just played tennis with other rich white people, or like they same from the same business meeting as "Jan," from 'The Office.'
Incredibly polite (and by polite I mean to say that they take time out of there NASA compressed schedule to look at you and sometimes even speak). Often times they walk through the door and stop me at "goo-" or "hel-" to announce their order as if by a king.
"Rogers, an order for Rogers. . ."
I then look up their name in our order book and attempt to confirm the items of purchase. Often while doing this as a professional and personal attempt on my part, they become confused and anxious like a cat in water. Since they have been on a cellphone the entire time they are forces to say "hold on," and frantically inquire,
"yes that was my order is it here!? is everything OK? I called it in last week and the person who took the order was an older sounding woman. . ."
I really do my best to reassure them by showing them the item they called in, "yes, it is here I'm sorry for the confusion there are no problems."
Just let me cut in here real quick. Confusion? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE if you think that confirming an order with someone is cause for confusing please email be at: etokarinae@gmail.com and explain to me how I can do better. I am genuinely concerned that I have some kind of anxiety release on people because of these outrageous panics that come over people followed by an apology as if it were MY fault. . . UGH!!! six more days.
Then they get the order and sign for their credit card and leave without saying thank you or anything. Often times eye contact is not even attempted.
I had a particular case the other day in which a woman came in and strolled about the store. She waltzed around on her cellphone looking at everything and looking at nothing. Tired of watching her talk about medical issues on her pleasure stroll, I turned to grab a swig of my water from the back. As I twisted into this 180 degree maneuver, I her violent snapping. The customer had actually put her hand in the air and snapped a signal for me to come over, though she never left the phone conversation. She started writing in the air as a sign for me to grab paper for her? I guessed correctly and she wrote down her order and then continued her Nokia Waltz. I grabbed her items and rang them up. I want to say her total was around 19.96 or something. She put down a 20 and left, without saying a single word to me. It's OK though because that cellphone of hers WILL cause cancer, karma said so. . .
G. Inept Mothers - Yes. These are the mothers that refer directly to their children as "psychopath." Since when was it OK to say to a four year old, "Oh Johnny you're such a little psychopath." Hello! mom did you just get out of your straight jacket or what!?
Also the mothers who like to say, "point to what you want!" She's five! I think it's time to say use words, because frankly, banging on the glass/pointing to your food reminds me of caged animals and monkeys at the zoo.
H. Co-Workers - We all have them. Sometimes we luck out. I have two people in particular that I work with who I get along with. Maybe even three. But at the end of the day it's difficult to look back and say I had mostly good experiences with them. I am plagued by people telling me what to do. I admit that I have a horrible work ethic while I am there. I generally try to help as many customers as I can and do the dishes as little as possible. But then again I try to make it into a game, I try to have fun at job. I don't want to be bored and sleepy all day because I hate where I am. My co-workers don't need that apparently. They like to tell me to sweep. It's the way they say it though. The rhetoric of it:
"Would you like to sweep?"
"Would you like to do the stales?"
"Would you like to make the calls and faxes?"
Well, of course. My dreams have escalated to those things. The epitome of my time on this earth has coalesced with all my dreams and aspirations in this moment to perform those tasks!
I mean of course I will get stuff done in time that WE and more importantly I can get the "Lucifer's Lair" outta here!
Not to mention the people that tell me to do these tasks have worked at this bakery for less time than I have. . .
Oh well. Only 40+ hours for the ETA = Eternity 'Till Absence. Also I heard a very funny conversation a few days ago that went something like this:
Man: Kapira, I told you I got work like six minutes ago.
Kapira?
Man: Yuh, I am late.
Kapira?
Man: Look at me right now Kapira doe it look like I care if I make it to yo auntie party?
Wait wait wait, sir, you are on a cell phone. Did you mean "listen to me does it sound"
Feel free to use this wallpaper, it's quite jammin'.
11 October 2008
The paradigm of my life.
Let me share with you where I stand right now and where I will stand in just a few hours. . . This is the true paradigm of my life. As you read this you will find that I indeed live two lives divided entirely by my own discordant brain chemistry.
Today I awoke around noon. So I have been awake for over 6 hours. Over the past 25% of this full 24 hours of my day/night I have accomplished nothing. By nothing what I mean to say is this:
I downsized some of the dvds in my collection to put on my ipod. So today I put all of season 1 from The office, The Bourne Ultimatum, Casablanca, and several talks from ted.
One of those talks was from Jonathan Harris so this goes out to you Jonathan (who has some tremendously creative ways of doing things): WARNING DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING!
I feel that if I were to type out this sentence long enough and just keep dragging it out by continuing to type basically nonsensical information in the format that the computer program of Jonathan Harris that identifies that this could possibly be taken note of in such a way because it was written entirely intentionally to grab the attention of their audience and their exploration and so for that reason I apologize to anyone who is just curiously reading this blog though I feel that nobody reads this outside of the people I already know even though my real target audience would be people that I have never met who, if I have never met you then this was probably not the part of the most that you were interested in reading and at this point I have the urge to end the sentence so badly but I do not believe that it is long enough or worthy enough to be shown as a gigantic dot and so I am just going to keep going for a few more lines now and maybe i could put this in bold and write a disclaimer before it about how you don't actually need to read this or read at own risk due to curvature in the river of thought that this thing follows but maybe I was just exaggerating and it could possibly turn out to not be that big of a deal at all and in the end just exist as some stupid thing some stupid blogger wrote and if I don't seem all that great right now it's because I have not really done anything today except existed and I cannot bullshit myself into trusting that I deserve this life but in saying that I am not suicidal at all and you can trust that as soon as this rant is over the entire post will continue and you will see more postings tonight and tomorrow maybe but likely and so without "further to do (say)" I will present you with a remarkable tool and symbol which really holds a place more unique than the zero in that within literature it might just be a dot but it is the nail that holds up structure within the writing as well as the beginning and the end of a thought simultaneously and therefore without any expertise or research I'm just gonna say that it is used across cultures more than the click of a mouse per day here is my friend (who may be invisible based on your eyesight) the period.
now that THAT thing above is out of the way I'll move on with my post. So yes, I have done nothing. I have not eaten. I have had very little to drink. I have not eaten because nothing sounds good and nothing looks good either. But I know that I must eat soon because my blood sugar is dropping and I can feel my body getting weak. I feel slightly dizzy and almost disoriented. I also feel nervous and impatient. The techno music is certainly NOT helping very much/at all.
The paradigm that was talking about earlier is laid out real simple. On days in which I work I awake and feel refreshed. I do not feel tired, but I do not feel energetic. I do not feel excited to be awake or alive but simply relieved to think about the nothing that is planned for me on that given day. On days where I have to get up and go to work two things happen:
If I did not get enough sleep or if I had to go to work before 8am then I awake cranky. I feel angry and I often curse under my breath about how awful it is to have to "live in a world where I am a slave to my schedule, a schedule that does not contribute to who I am or take advantage of my abilities. . ." and then my day continues and usually starts off "bad" and by bad I mean that I don't like being around my job at 5, 6, or 7 in the morning.
Or I awake knowing that I have an hour or two before I must get ready for work. It is on those days I feel the most anxious and uncomfortable. I don't feel that I can afford to really do anything I want to do and so I end up not doing much at all. I convince myself that it is OK to let the time slide by for 60 minutes by checking my email, listening to music, checking LH, checking Bungie, checking Live, etc. Then I go to work while calculating the seemingly endless days previous to this filled with one to two hours putterance.
NOTE: putterance is a word that I just made up. I like it. Feel free to use it without giving me credit, though I'm sure I was not the first.
NOTE: I was just inspired to write a book about Putterance - A consideration of knowledge attained, aspiration, and motivation. . .
Anywho, I'm pitiful. I have so many options for what to do right now and all I really need is some structure and balance. . .
My days are unproductive and every task is equivalent to climbing a 20,000 ft. mountain. That is one life. My nights which typically either don't start at all or hit me after midnight, are the opposite. I find ideas seeping their ways into my head. Often I can't find the output to get them down quickly enough. My entire perception of the world changes after a single synapse fires in my brain. Everything that comes after that blows me away. Every night I feel reborn. Every night The world is full of awe and wonder. Hopes for an everlasting utopian paradise don't seem far off and I imagine myself leading the change and starting a social and cultural revolution to get there. I feel full of energy and enthusiasm for all my thoughts and while I admit to myself that I am probably just high on dopamine, some of my ideas and thoughts hold true during the day too.
I may revisit this subject later on but for now I am well aware of just how badly my body needs food.
Today I awoke around noon. So I have been awake for over 6 hours. Over the past 25% of this full 24 hours of my day/night I have accomplished nothing. By nothing what I mean to say is this:
I downsized some of the dvds in my collection to put on my ipod. So today I put all of season 1 from The office, The Bourne Ultimatum, Casablanca, and several talks from ted.
One of those talks was from Jonathan Harris so this goes out to you Jonathan (who has some tremendously creative ways of doing things): WARNING DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING!
I feel that if I were to type out this sentence long enough and just keep dragging it out by continuing to type basically nonsensical information in the format that the computer program of Jonathan Harris that identifies that this could possibly be taken note of in such a way because it was written entirely intentionally to grab the attention of their audience and their exploration and so for that reason I apologize to anyone who is just curiously reading this blog though I feel that nobody reads this outside of the people I already know even though my real target audience would be people that I have never met who, if I have never met you then this was probably not the part of the most that you were interested in reading and at this point I have the urge to end the sentence so badly but I do not believe that it is long enough or worthy enough to be shown as a gigantic dot and so I am just going to keep going for a few more lines now and maybe i could put this in bold and write a disclaimer before it about how you don't actually need to read this or read at own risk due to curvature in the river of thought that this thing follows but maybe I was just exaggerating and it could possibly turn out to not be that big of a deal at all and in the end just exist as some stupid thing some stupid blogger wrote and if I don't seem all that great right now it's because I have not really done anything today except existed and I cannot bullshit myself into trusting that I deserve this life but in saying that I am not suicidal at all and you can trust that as soon as this rant is over the entire post will continue and you will see more postings tonight and tomorrow maybe but likely and so without "further to do (say)" I will present you with a remarkable tool and symbol which really holds a place more unique than the zero in that within literature it might just be a dot but it is the nail that holds up structure within the writing as well as the beginning and the end of a thought simultaneously and therefore without any expertise or research I'm just gonna say that it is used across cultures more than the click of a mouse per day here is my friend (who may be invisible based on your eyesight) the period.
now that THAT thing above is out of the way I'll move on with my post. So yes, I have done nothing. I have not eaten. I have had very little to drink. I have not eaten because nothing sounds good and nothing looks good either. But I know that I must eat soon because my blood sugar is dropping and I can feel my body getting weak. I feel slightly dizzy and almost disoriented. I also feel nervous and impatient. The techno music is certainly NOT helping very much/at all.
The paradigm that was talking about earlier is laid out real simple. On days in which I work I awake and feel refreshed. I do not feel tired, but I do not feel energetic. I do not feel excited to be awake or alive but simply relieved to think about the nothing that is planned for me on that given day. On days where I have to get up and go to work two things happen:
If I did not get enough sleep or if I had to go to work before 8am then I awake cranky. I feel angry and I often curse under my breath about how awful it is to have to "live in a world where I am a slave to my schedule, a schedule that does not contribute to who I am or take advantage of my abilities. . ." and then my day continues and usually starts off "bad" and by bad I mean that I don't like being around my job at 5, 6, or 7 in the morning.
Or I awake knowing that I have an hour or two before I must get ready for work. It is on those days I feel the most anxious and uncomfortable. I don't feel that I can afford to really do anything I want to do and so I end up not doing much at all. I convince myself that it is OK to let the time slide by for 60 minutes by checking my email, listening to music, checking LH, checking Bungie, checking Live, etc. Then I go to work while calculating the seemingly endless days previous to this filled with one to two hours putterance.
NOTE: putterance is a word that I just made up. I like it. Feel free to use it without giving me credit, though I'm sure I was not the first.
NOTE: I was just inspired to write a book about Putterance - A consideration of knowledge attained, aspiration, and motivation. . .
Anywho, I'm pitiful. I have so many options for what to do right now and all I really need is some structure and balance. . .
My days are unproductive and every task is equivalent to climbing a 20,000 ft. mountain. That is one life. My nights which typically either don't start at all or hit me after midnight, are the opposite. I find ideas seeping their ways into my head. Often I can't find the output to get them down quickly enough. My entire perception of the world changes after a single synapse fires in my brain. Everything that comes after that blows me away. Every night I feel reborn. Every night The world is full of awe and wonder. Hopes for an everlasting utopian paradise don't seem far off and I imagine myself leading the change and starting a social and cultural revolution to get there. I feel full of energy and enthusiasm for all my thoughts and while I admit to myself that I am probably just high on dopamine, some of my ideas and thoughts hold true during the day too.
I may revisit this subject later on but for now I am well aware of just how badly my body needs food.
07 October 2008
Let's Talk Jazz
Everybody has their own hypothetical example of music. If you have heard a kind of music enough you can imagine clearly in your own mind a section of that music. If I say "polka" most people are thinking that umpa lumpa sounding 1-2 time beat in fast forward. . .
So imagine some jazz. Not big band or swing. Nobody is dancing to this. This is a music that changes where you are and who you are. Sure, you walk into the club that night with a set identity. There are rules in the universe that are followed and expected. With those rules, you can make predictions whether you know it or not. Sometimes those predictions are expectations.
Like you can expect to walk into the jazz club and hear people softly talking. No exact words exchanged but a cloud of language hangs in the room as subtle as the smoke. It blends into the dark ceiling and molds against the fabric on the walls almost enough to see it and even though you can't, you get the impression that every word is trapped in this room eternally. This sanctuary is lit mostly by candles and table lights. On the walls are 20 watt bulbs, just bright enough to give everyone a soft silhouette and show the folds and creases of the cloth.
You find yourself seated and concentrated on the subtle notion of an expectation. While the mist of language has not left this place, the air becomes crisp and clear as the musicians ready themselves for this journey. It is a quartet. You can't seem to find where they started. Certainly you only now hear this music but it feels more like they are just amplifying or perhaps intensifying what was already there. You let go of everything but the frequencies streaming into you ear.
The bass player's hands climb up and down the strings with ease. He appears almost robotic, though his fingers move with such grace you would think they were swaying in the wind. The sound of the bass smoothly reverberates within the room. You can feel it in your stomach and you can feel it in your soul. It vibrates everything it touches.
On his right, sits the drums and behind the drums, the drummer. He's playing his snare with brushes. He's painting his sound better than Vincent Van Gogh and he's blending into the rest of the sound where the ocean meets the sky. When you listen closely enough you can hear each metal hair of the brush strike the skin of the drum; a pebble falling into water.
Further off to the right, but further forward sits a piano. Its flipped lid reflects the entire room back on itself. The piano player's arms swing like a pendulum back and forth across the piano in a rhythm just constant enough to keep up with his fingers, who jump to and from the keys like a frog on a lily pad. Each finger that lands magically blankets its impact and somehow stays afloat long enough to jump to the next. The result is intentionally constructed chords that captain the mood without any orders at all.
Across from the piano stands the trumpet. He stands tall and still like a statue until the trumpet reaches his lips. Suddenly a sound emerges from his horn. Accelerating out of an almost endless slow motion that was as controlled and intentional as a horse and jockey leaving the gate; entirely distinct entities becoming unified. The trumpeter's sounds bond the four instruments together. None of them are leading or trailing, but threading and intertwining like rope.
This very rope that started as an infinitely small bind, grows endless in your presence. It slowly wraps and warps. But it is just a single thread of rope that is the infinite exponential or infinity itself. It has no center and no edge. These ropes crest into never-ending peaks and trough into limitless valleys. This is the landscape of the universe; waves, rhythms, patterns. Jazz taps into a microcosm of that vastness and tugs and pulls at a few of those tiny fibers that twist into the threads that wind into the strings that wrap into the ropes that hold the fabric and declare order out of this epically unbound chaos.
So imagine some jazz. Not big band or swing. Nobody is dancing to this. This is a music that changes where you are and who you are. Sure, you walk into the club that night with a set identity. There are rules in the universe that are followed and expected. With those rules, you can make predictions whether you know it or not. Sometimes those predictions are expectations.
Like you can expect to walk into the jazz club and hear people softly talking. No exact words exchanged but a cloud of language hangs in the room as subtle as the smoke. It blends into the dark ceiling and molds against the fabric on the walls almost enough to see it and even though you can't, you get the impression that every word is trapped in this room eternally. This sanctuary is lit mostly by candles and table lights. On the walls are 20 watt bulbs, just bright enough to give everyone a soft silhouette and show the folds and creases of the cloth.
You find yourself seated and concentrated on the subtle notion of an expectation. While the mist of language has not left this place, the air becomes crisp and clear as the musicians ready themselves for this journey. It is a quartet. You can't seem to find where they started. Certainly you only now hear this music but it feels more like they are just amplifying or perhaps intensifying what was already there. You let go of everything but the frequencies streaming into you ear.
The bass player's hands climb up and down the strings with ease. He appears almost robotic, though his fingers move with such grace you would think they were swaying in the wind. The sound of the bass smoothly reverberates within the room. You can feel it in your stomach and you can feel it in your soul. It vibrates everything it touches.
On his right, sits the drums and behind the drums, the drummer. He's playing his snare with brushes. He's painting his sound better than Vincent Van Gogh and he's blending into the rest of the sound where the ocean meets the sky. When you listen closely enough you can hear each metal hair of the brush strike the skin of the drum; a pebble falling into water.
Further off to the right, but further forward sits a piano. Its flipped lid reflects the entire room back on itself. The piano player's arms swing like a pendulum back and forth across the piano in a rhythm just constant enough to keep up with his fingers, who jump to and from the keys like a frog on a lily pad. Each finger that lands magically blankets its impact and somehow stays afloat long enough to jump to the next. The result is intentionally constructed chords that captain the mood without any orders at all.
Across from the piano stands the trumpet. He stands tall and still like a statue until the trumpet reaches his lips. Suddenly a sound emerges from his horn. Accelerating out of an almost endless slow motion that was as controlled and intentional as a horse and jockey leaving the gate; entirely distinct entities becoming unified. The trumpeter's sounds bond the four instruments together. None of them are leading or trailing, but threading and intertwining like rope.
This very rope that started as an infinitely small bind, grows endless in your presence. It slowly wraps and warps. But it is just a single thread of rope that is the infinite exponential or infinity itself. It has no center and no edge. These ropes crest into never-ending peaks and trough into limitless valleys. This is the landscape of the universe; waves, rhythms, patterns. Jazz taps into a microcosm of that vastness and tugs and pulls at a few of those tiny fibers that twist into the threads that wind into the strings that wrap into the ropes that hold the fabric and declare order out of this epically unbound chaos.
02 October 2008
Live Veeb Debate Comments. . .
Palin - What are the sources of domestic energy that we are not harnessing?
QUESTION ANSWERED BY BIDEN . . . sort of
I won't lie, I just walked away to grab some chocolate, oreos, water, juice, bread, and cottage cheese.
Palin - Why is sitting down and having a talk with Mahmouhd Ahmenajad such a bad idea?
QUESTION ANSWERED BY BIDEN . . . sort of
I won't lie, I just walked away to grab some chocolate, oreos, water, juice, bread, and cottage cheese.
Palin - Why is sitting down and having a talk with Mahmouhd Ahmenajad such a bad idea?
Veep Debate Tonight
I will be watching the debate from a steaming feed off the internet.
Currently there is a great deal of discussion that is incredibly interesting. I am going to be making a few predictions about what is going to happen with a very insistent bias.
Right now I feel it is incredibly uneven. What does Palin have to lose? honestly. I think most people on the left are expecting her to bomb it. Most people on the right are expecting her to bomb Biden. She can go on attack as much as she wants, but Biden has to sit back and take it no matter what. So the people who are not set on what direction they are will probably see Palin attacking Biden relentlessly, showing Biden as weak or over-restrained. Or, they might see Biden attack Palin which would portray him as an arrogant condescending washingtonite prick. Neither is good for Biden. . .
Anywho, I predict that it will be seen as even, and the voters in the middle will not be swayed one way or the other. Liberals want to see Palin fail miserably while all the conservatives hope that somehow she will pull it off as more than a well equipped soccer mom.
I might post some word counts later, but unlikely.
On a side note I have flown over Alaska, the Berring Strait, and the Russian airspace. Does that make me fairly well equipped to run the country Palin?
Currently there is a great deal of discussion that is incredibly interesting. I am going to be making a few predictions about what is going to happen with a very insistent bias.
Right now I feel it is incredibly uneven. What does Palin have to lose? honestly. I think most people on the left are expecting her to bomb it. Most people on the right are expecting her to bomb Biden. She can go on attack as much as she wants, but Biden has to sit back and take it no matter what. So the people who are not set on what direction they are will probably see Palin attacking Biden relentlessly, showing Biden as weak or over-restrained. Or, they might see Biden attack Palin which would portray him as an arrogant condescending washingtonite prick. Neither is good for Biden. . .
Anywho, I predict that it will be seen as even, and the voters in the middle will not be swayed one way or the other. Liberals want to see Palin fail miserably while all the conservatives hope that somehow she will pull it off as more than a well equipped soccer mom.
I might post some word counts later, but unlikely.
On a side note I have flown over Alaska, the Berring Strait, and the Russian airspace. Does that make me fairly well equipped to run the country Palin?
30 September 2008
You Thought the Last Post Was Mean?
I wrote this paper in my freshman year, oh wait I'm still in my freshman year. . .
I was unable to find the final copy so this is just the rough draft (emphasis on ROUGH).
Twinkie Tax or McGladiator Fights?
For those of you who don't know or don't think that there is an obesity problem in this country, here is a window on your solid wall of oblivion. When the airlines need to spend 275,000,000 dollars to burn more than 350,000,000 extra gallons of fuel just for fat people, there's an issue. (Twinkie Tax) Go to your nearest internet browser and look at this picture. http://img.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2007/11_02/holidayG1111_468x343.jpg. It is amazing to me that people like this are even able to reproduce. Now go to http://www.images.google.com and type in “fat people.” Did you get four and a half million results. Is there still no problem? In 1999 the surgeon general released a report saying that 14% of all people 12-19 years of age were overweight. Are you kidding; no, you're fat kidding. If we as a country continue to traverse (metaphorically speaking because really we are not actually moving enough) down this path it could lead to serious irreversible and perhaps unforeseen problems for the future. Optimistically, there are solutions for people who insist of increasing their body size exponentially.
Luckily, the government could choose to tax the fat these people eat. This is called the “Twinkie Tax” The idea was proposed about 15 years ago by Kelly Brownell. He's director of Yale's Center for Eating and Weight Disorder. This is a nice way of saying “The guy who Yale is paying to get rid of people being so fat they indirectly kill themselves.” The way it works is real simple. It's real cheap to produce a mcburger. Something like that might cost a spare dollar in your pocket. What if the mcflipper who made the mcburger was forced to charge three spare bucks and then give two of them back to the government. The government then subsidizes the difference between the head of super-leafy-green-organic-broccoli-goodness and the mcburger so that people can choose to be healthy! But not only would it make good food cheaper, it would dissuade people from getting fast food as often if it is so expensive. It would appear that here, McMericans, I mean Americans, tend to pay for stuff when it is cheaper, check out alcohol tobacco sales as an example. But really that is not entirely fair oversimplification of the process because it wouldn't even take that much. Perhaps what we need from the government subsidies is actually just more nutritional education. Somewhere along the lines we just need the youth to understand that Daddy and Mommy don't actually save anything from their wallets when they are adding that much to their waistlines.
Think that people should outright have a choice on the food they eat? Cigarette companies aren't allowed to put up billboards anymore in most states. In the late 1980-90s a 25-cent tax was enacted for every pack bought and at least 5 cents of that was allocated specifically for the education of anti-tobacco. There was a decline of almost 30% in tobacco use. (Twinkie Tax) Seriously, if the government is allowed to suggest to people that sucking cancer into your lungs is bad I'm fairly certain they should be able to suggest that biting into fatty, diabetic patties isn't too good for your liver or pancreas either.
Nobody is saying that “you can't have cancer sticks,” and nobody is enforcing that “fat injected grease discs” are illegal. There is simply a movement to slow down people through educational and economic means from clogging their arteries while climbing into their supersized-caskets.
It may seem slightly extreme to consider this excessively excessive weight deterrent but hear me out; imagine McGladiator fights. Tournaments could be exclusively for the “biggest” possible contenders in a big arena several hundred feet across in which competitors actually fight each other. There could even be a tier system based on weights; Biggies, McFatts, and Supersized! If the 100m sprints across the arena didn't give them an instant heart attack the opponents could attempt to crush each other. At half time each player could give a life-story tracking their trans-fat intakes, unless of course they were too out of breath to talk. The entire epically proportioned McLympiad could be hosted by the “Hostess” with the Mostest (over-encumbered-ness) and sponsored by the “big” names in fast food. Nothing would sell better than an ironic “Slow Games is sponsored by Fast Food here on ABC.” Later they could even expand the games to encased cages in which kids are administered pure sugar intravenously and then given Ritalin! No, that would be too far.
Really though, that makes the next proposal sound even more reasonable. Strap everyone with a pedometer and make it law that everyone gets at least 8,000 steps/three miles roughly. If there is no compliance, the instigator can be shot on site. This is an idea that is just going to be put on there. It could possibly be earth shattering so try to bear with it. Eliminate drive-throughs and place the actual ordering counter a mile away. At least if you want to order that mcburger you have to walk off half of it before you even get there.
The worst part about all of this is the fact that it is being called an epidemic. As if it is sweeping the country sides like the black plague. Economically it would be in anyone's best interest to stay as healthy and therefore active as possible unless you like the idea of piles of mcmedical bills in your near future. Maybe some people like heart palpitations and collecting heart attacks. An excellent happy meal for adults could be a mcbypass surgery or you could go with the deluxe mctriple bypass surgery. There are however no plans at this time by any of the fast food companies to include deals like this in their smile meal packages.
In conclusion, aside from all unnecessarily snide and unpleasant comments this is a serious problem. Even if there is a feeling of want to eat fast food and be over weight there are still some negative effects that should be kept in mind for the future. First off, overweight adolescents have a 70% chance of going on to become overweight adults and that increases to 80% if one of their parents is obese. Just in general, again without any cruel jokes, some of the risks and problems very closely associated with being overweight are heart disease, type 2 diabetes, high blood pressure, and even cancer. On a psychological level there are immediate threats of perceived social discrimination paired with low self-esteem and depression. (Surgeon General) With this we could be moving towards a culture and society built entirely around the payments of medical bills to make up for lack of general good health practices just based on nutrition. It's not too late to put down that burger....
I was unable to find the final copy so this is just the rough draft (emphasis on ROUGH).
Twinkie Tax or McGladiator Fights?
For those of you who don't know or don't think that there is an obesity problem in this country, here is a window on your solid wall of oblivion. When the airlines need to spend 275,000,000 dollars to burn more than 350,000,000 extra gallons of fuel just for fat people, there's an issue. (Twinkie Tax) Go to your nearest internet browser and look at this picture. http://img.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2007/11_02/holidayG1111_468x343.jpg. It is amazing to me that people like this are even able to reproduce. Now go to http://www.images.google.com and type in “fat people.” Did you get four and a half million results. Is there still no problem? In 1999 the surgeon general released a report saying that 14% of all people 12-19 years of age were overweight. Are you kidding; no, you're fat kidding. If we as a country continue to traverse (metaphorically speaking because really we are not actually moving enough) down this path it could lead to serious irreversible and perhaps unforeseen problems for the future. Optimistically, there are solutions for people who insist of increasing their body size exponentially.
Luckily, the government could choose to tax the fat these people eat. This is called the “Twinkie Tax” The idea was proposed about 15 years ago by Kelly Brownell. He's director of Yale's Center for Eating and Weight Disorder. This is a nice way of saying “The guy who Yale is paying to get rid of people being so fat they indirectly kill themselves.” The way it works is real simple. It's real cheap to produce a mcburger. Something like that might cost a spare dollar in your pocket. What if the mcflipper who made the mcburger was forced to charge three spare bucks and then give two of them back to the government. The government then subsidizes the difference between the head of super-leafy-green-organic-broccoli-goodness and the mcburger so that people can choose to be healthy! But not only would it make good food cheaper, it would dissuade people from getting fast food as often if it is so expensive. It would appear that here, McMericans, I mean Americans, tend to pay for stuff when it is cheaper, check out alcohol tobacco sales as an example. But really that is not entirely fair oversimplification of the process because it wouldn't even take that much. Perhaps what we need from the government subsidies is actually just more nutritional education. Somewhere along the lines we just need the youth to understand that Daddy and Mommy don't actually save anything from their wallets when they are adding that much to their waistlines.
Think that people should outright have a choice on the food they eat? Cigarette companies aren't allowed to put up billboards anymore in most states. In the late 1980-90s a 25-cent tax was enacted for every pack bought and at least 5 cents of that was allocated specifically for the education of anti-tobacco. There was a decline of almost 30% in tobacco use. (Twinkie Tax) Seriously, if the government is allowed to suggest to people that sucking cancer into your lungs is bad I'm fairly certain they should be able to suggest that biting into fatty, diabetic patties isn't too good for your liver or pancreas either.
Nobody is saying that “you can't have cancer sticks,” and nobody is enforcing that “fat injected grease discs” are illegal. There is simply a movement to slow down people through educational and economic means from clogging their arteries while climbing into their supersized-caskets.
It may seem slightly extreme to consider this excessively excessive weight deterrent but hear me out; imagine McGladiator fights. Tournaments could be exclusively for the “biggest” possible contenders in a big arena several hundred feet across in which competitors actually fight each other. There could even be a tier system based on weights; Biggies, McFatts, and Supersized! If the 100m sprints across the arena didn't give them an instant heart attack the opponents could attempt to crush each other. At half time each player could give a life-story tracking their trans-fat intakes, unless of course they were too out of breath to talk. The entire epically proportioned McLympiad could be hosted by the “Hostess” with the Mostest (over-encumbered-ness) and sponsored by the “big” names in fast food. Nothing would sell better than an ironic “Slow Games is sponsored by Fast Food here on ABC.” Later they could even expand the games to encased cages in which kids are administered pure sugar intravenously and then given Ritalin! No, that would be too far.
Really though, that makes the next proposal sound even more reasonable. Strap everyone with a pedometer and make it law that everyone gets at least 8,000 steps/three miles roughly. If there is no compliance, the instigator can be shot on site. This is an idea that is just going to be put on there. It could possibly be earth shattering so try to bear with it. Eliminate drive-throughs and place the actual ordering counter a mile away. At least if you want to order that mcburger you have to walk off half of it before you even get there.
The worst part about all of this is the fact that it is being called an epidemic. As if it is sweeping the country sides like the black plague. Economically it would be in anyone's best interest to stay as healthy and therefore active as possible unless you like the idea of piles of mcmedical bills in your near future. Maybe some people like heart palpitations and collecting heart attacks. An excellent happy meal for adults could be a mcbypass surgery or you could go with the deluxe mctriple bypass surgery. There are however no plans at this time by any of the fast food companies to include deals like this in their smile meal packages.
In conclusion, aside from all unnecessarily snide and unpleasant comments this is a serious problem. Even if there is a feeling of want to eat fast food and be over weight there are still some negative effects that should be kept in mind for the future. First off, overweight adolescents have a 70% chance of going on to become overweight adults and that increases to 80% if one of their parents is obese. Just in general, again without any cruel jokes, some of the risks and problems very closely associated with being overweight are heart disease, type 2 diabetes, high blood pressure, and even cancer. On a psychological level there are immediate threats of perceived social discrimination paired with low self-esteem and depression. (Surgeon General) With this we could be moving towards a culture and society built entirely around the payments of medical bills to make up for lack of general good health practices just based on nutrition. It's not too late to put down that burger....
I Don't Much Care for Rap/Hip Hop. . . or "Soulja Boy"
For those of you less inclined to hip hop and rap (especially myself included) the phrase "yahhh trick yahhh" or simply "yahhh" could be used in place of "I don't care" or "I don't want to listen".
Soulja Boy "Tell 'Em" who I will now just call DeAndre Cortez Way or even better just DCW, explains this eloquently as he states at the beginning of his official YAHHH video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UfCmYyG-yg4
"Man when somebody be[is] in your face on your nerves an[d] talkin' an[d] talkin' an[d] you don't want to hear it (I THINK he says) just be like 'yahhh! trick yahhh!'"
Then throughout the rest of the song the lyrics consist of "yahhh! trick yahhh!" and "get out[of] my face, get out[of] my face."
But don't forget the life changing words that are spoken:
"Let me tell you 'bout the life and how you live when you a star. Every single place you go the people run up to your car. Everybody wants to talk and everybody wants to jive everybody wants a handshake or wants a high-five. And these baby girls always got a friend that wants to talk to you. Ain't got time for chit-chat I'm tryin' to get this money. So get up out my face and do ahead get doney? (that last part I'm just guessing about. . .)"
If you watch the video take note of the growling sounds he makes that sounds like a medium sized rodent attacking something. . .
Of course I don't think the video is trying to be serious or realistic but I doubt that the 75 year old white mailman in the video is of the geographic to know who "Soulja Boy Tell 'Em" is much less what he looks like. . . Oh well I admit that is just being knit picky.
"Leave me alone let me get some peace I'm sittin' at the house shorty and I can't sleep." (I like that rhyme especially I really feel like he captured something. . .
Later on the video he goes to "school" and the song switches over entirely with basically silence backdropping his "report card today man. . . had all F's on it. . . took it back to the teacher and told her to throw some D's on it. . .)
Ok, so let me get this straight. The second part of a music video that I'm sure has received more than twelve million views on ONE youtube video alone, has DCW proclaiming that he got all F's and then telling the teacher to "throw" D's on it. Somebody who is doesn't care gets F's and doesn't challenge it. (I know this because I personally have failed classes that I didn't care about. . .I'm such a bad role model) But seriously, throw some D's on it. If your such a gangsta rebel in school and you stand on the table in your video why not tell the teacher to put A's on it. I suppose that could be a problem for those who's goals are very low in expectations. . .
Not only that but how is this guy getting away with writing hip hop music about his report card failure. I mean how juvenile is that. REPORT CARD!? Am I going crazy? THEN . . .No, no, no you thought I got to the best part? No, then he comes on the camera with silence in the background and says straight into the camera with an off-serious tone, "I was just playin' kids, yall know I made straight A's. Listen to Soulja' Boy Tell 'Em, stay in school. . ." Well clearly we know of several classes that he has not taken otherwise he could not have attained straight A's.
Here is a list:
Music Theory
English - Grammer and Poetry
Creative Writing
What bothers me the most about DCW is his tenacious obsession with himself. He clearly contradicts himself in this video. He shows his stats on everything everywhere. On his Youtube, Myspace, and Website (probably others too) he lists his recorded page views, records sold, and channel subscribers. Clearly he loves the attention. Some people have suggested that it could all be an act. I will admit that this is possible but I would ask at what point does an "act" become who you are. Surely if you are somebody 75% of the time than it is more than just an act. Certainly if the people around you think that it is who you are than you have lost control of your own reality and you have become the facade that protrudes before you. . .This video is nothing. It is a flashy piece of media that adds nothing new to any genre and certainly does not anything deep about the artist. As an audience member I do not gain anything new about myself or my world other than what I can infer based on a personal analysis.
The previous statements show his music is just a sellout to make money. I do not blame him for that. He is catering to an audience for the money it makes. I would do the same. But the main thing is that he carries no humility with him. Hip hop and Electronica sub-genres like Trance and Dance share some similarities. As a fervent listener of those kinds of music I can say that often the lyrics are limited and simple. Like traditional hip hop, (typically) a sample is taken and built upon with limited substitutes while maintaining a consistent tempo and beat. But for trance and dance the beat is what makes the song. It evolves and changes and "entrances" its listeners. I make this comparison to show that the music I personally listen to and would endorse even in my sleep (sometimes it plays even while I sleep) is no different. I am not attacking DCW personally, though I am, I am attacking all musicians, and even all people who are guilty of taking what they have gained without admitting their strokes of luck and random moments of fortune. I am on offense against those who have achieved a fraction of success and not genuinely considered a gratitude of their own half chance. I am entirely guilty of this personally but have tried to make amends by vowing to never again take my life and its prospects for granted.
Oh, and to anybody who loves Soulja Boy and is reading this; Yes, I am very jealous of Soulja Boy and all the money is making at his age and that is why "I be hatin'".
Note: No I am definitely not jealous of his money or fame. I would never willingly take money or popularity for my ignorance. Though I would admit my own incalculable vastness of lacking knowledge.
UPDATE: As a tribute to my profound ignorance this entire post is basically void. I'll leave it up to show how out of the loop I am but here is what a friend told me over an IM conversation. . .
****
but you know that "throw some d's on that bitch" is a song that everyone makes fun of
12:43
like throw some cheese on that bitch
DM Fife
12:44
lol what
*****
12:44
throw some fleas on that bitch
12:44
like d's are really big rims
12:44
like 22s
DM Fife
12:44
wait so its a pun?
*****
12:44
yeah its a joke
OK well there you have it! That's why I listen to Electronica hahaha
Soulja Boy "Tell 'Em" who I will now just call DeAndre Cortez Way or even better just DCW, explains this eloquently as he states at the beginning of his official YAHHH video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UfCmYyG-yg4
"Man when somebody be[is] in your face on your nerves an[d] talkin' an[d] talkin' an[d] you don't want to hear it (I THINK he says) just be like 'yahhh! trick yahhh!'"
Then throughout the rest of the song the lyrics consist of "yahhh! trick yahhh!" and "get out[of] my face, get out[of] my face."
But don't forget the life changing words that are spoken:
"Let me tell you 'bout the life and how you live when you a star. Every single place you go the people run up to your car. Everybody wants to talk and everybody wants to jive everybody wants a handshake or wants a high-five. And these baby girls always got a friend that wants to talk to you. Ain't got time for chit-chat I'm tryin' to get this money. So get up out my face and do ahead get doney? (that last part I'm just guessing about. . .)"
If you watch the video take note of the growling sounds he makes that sounds like a medium sized rodent attacking something. . .
Of course I don't think the video is trying to be serious or realistic but I doubt that the 75 year old white mailman in the video is of the geographic to know who "Soulja Boy Tell 'Em" is much less what he looks like. . . Oh well I admit that is just being knit picky.
"Leave me alone let me get some peace I'm sittin' at the house shorty and I can't sleep." (I like that rhyme especially I really feel like he captured something. . .
Later on the video he goes to "school" and the song switches over entirely with basically silence backdropping his "report card today man. . . had all F's on it. . . took it back to the teacher and told her to throw some D's on it. . .)
Ok, so let me get this straight. The second part of a music video that I'm sure has received more than twelve million views on ONE youtube video alone, has DCW proclaiming that he got all F's and then telling the teacher to "throw" D's on it. Somebody who is doesn't care gets F's and doesn't challenge it. (I know this because I personally have failed classes that I didn't care about. . .I'm such a bad role model) But seriously, throw some D's on it. If your such a gangsta rebel in school and you stand on the table in your video why not tell the teacher to put A's on it. I suppose that could be a problem for those who's goals are very low in expectations. . .
Not only that but how is this guy getting away with writing hip hop music about his report card failure. I mean how juvenile is that. REPORT CARD!? Am I going crazy? THEN . . .No, no, no you thought I got to the best part? No, then he comes on the camera with silence in the background and says straight into the camera with an off-serious tone, "I was just playin' kids, yall know I made straight A's. Listen to Soulja' Boy Tell 'Em, stay in school. . ." Well clearly we know of several classes that he has not taken otherwise he could not have attained straight A's.
Here is a list:
Music Theory
English - Grammer and Poetry
Creative Writing
What bothers me the most about DCW is his tenacious obsession with himself. He clearly contradicts himself in this video. He shows his stats on everything everywhere. On his Youtube, Myspace, and Website (probably others too) he lists his recorded page views, records sold, and channel subscribers. Clearly he loves the attention. Some people have suggested that it could all be an act. I will admit that this is possible but I would ask at what point does an "act" become who you are. Surely if you are somebody 75% of the time than it is more than just an act. Certainly if the people around you think that it is who you are than you have lost control of your own reality and you have become the facade that protrudes before you. . .This video is nothing. It is a flashy piece of media that adds nothing new to any genre and certainly does not anything deep about the artist. As an audience member I do not gain anything new about myself or my world other than what I can infer based on a personal analysis.
The previous statements show his music is just a sellout to make money. I do not blame him for that. He is catering to an audience for the money it makes. I would do the same. But the main thing is that he carries no humility with him. Hip hop and Electronica sub-genres like Trance and Dance share some similarities. As a fervent listener of those kinds of music I can say that often the lyrics are limited and simple. Like traditional hip hop, (typically) a sample is taken and built upon with limited substitutes while maintaining a consistent tempo and beat. But for trance and dance the beat is what makes the song. It evolves and changes and "entrances" its listeners. I make this comparison to show that the music I personally listen to and would endorse even in my sleep (sometimes it plays even while I sleep) is no different. I am not attacking DCW personally, though I am, I am attacking all musicians, and even all people who are guilty of taking what they have gained without admitting their strokes of luck and random moments of fortune. I am on offense against those who have achieved a fraction of success and not genuinely considered a gratitude of their own half chance. I am entirely guilty of this personally but have tried to make amends by vowing to never again take my life and its prospects for granted.
Oh, and to anybody who loves Soulja Boy and is reading this; Yes, I am very jealous of Soulja Boy and all the money is making at his age and that is why "I be hatin'".
Note: No I am definitely not jealous of his money or fame. I would never willingly take money or popularity for my ignorance. Though I would admit my own incalculable vastness of lacking knowledge.
UPDATE: As a tribute to my profound ignorance this entire post is basically void. I'll leave it up to show how out of the loop I am but here is what a friend told me over an IM conversation. . .
****
but you know that "throw some d's on that bitch" is a song that everyone makes fun of
12:43
like throw some cheese on that bitch
DM Fife
12:44
lol what
*****
12:44
throw some fleas on that bitch
12:44
like d's are really big rims
12:44
like 22s
DM Fife
12:44
wait so its a pun?
*****
12:44
yeah its a joke
OK well there you have it! That's why I listen to Electronica hahaha
29 September 2008
My Teenage Hollywood-Movie Story
As I write this my stomach aches with greasy food and a milkshake!
But now your probably drawn into this story and spun around like a crack head who hears someone exclaim, "I love drinking coke!"
Since, you are dying of curiosity let me indulge you a little. It all started about two hours ago when I was leaving Diana's. You see my NOT dimwitted manager decided to schedule me to work for nine days/ eternity-plus in a row. So after going to work at 0800 today, which meant not getting enough sleep last night, I got off around 1430. which is kickin' except for the fact, that since I got up at eight I'm exhausted. This is building up to an excuse for my absence of mind throughout the day. So after forgetting to clock out at work, I go home. Home of course is a place I will describe one day, so that whenever you decide for yourself to analyze this jumbled piece of trash I call my "blog" you can see where all this garbage came from.
So, I get home and complete some daily routine stuff, good times, really good times. Check in with my LH dudes and listen to some tunes to unwind. I decide to go to Diana's which I did after a short skirmish that I defused with my mother. Always obstacles to get out of this house. . . I go to Diana's around 1630 or so. Massive fun watched The Brothers Grimm I think it was called. Matt Damon and Heath Ledger???
Everything is good. Today/tomorrow I am scheduled to work at 0630. Yeah exactly, why in the hell for everything that is holy would anyone need to work that early for something other than the good of human life? Well I'll give you a hint. It's plural, part of the horse family, and yeah you get it. So I had to leave Diana's around 2200 so I could get home and get sleep for that early shift.
A slight problem however that greatly influence my plans of early departure of consciousness. My dad's suped (and by suped I mean incredibly minor body damage) up '99 Chevy Cavalier does not have an automatic headlight shutoff system. So in the event that an absent minded driver (absent minded while NOT driving) such as myself forgets to turn them off in broad day light, they will run down the battery.
So as you can guess I get back to my car only to realize my mistake the moment I switch my lights to find they are already on. Good job Fife, you really did it this time. So I return to Diana's house to ask for jumper cables. This turns out all to be very good because I had never ever jumped a car in my life and tonight I learned how so I was all about it.
I AM GOING TO FINISH THIS TOMORROW AFTERNOON AFTER A LOVELY DAY OF WORK THAT I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO ABOUT AS MUCH AS GETTING TURNED INTO A ZOMBIE
Cont.
Well I survived, obviously. It's not about 1800 and I have been home for a few hours puttering around; I don't remember what I did. I took a nap that pretty much grabbed some of my time without a giving me a receipt of less exhaustion.
So back to the story at hand. I start driving home and in my mind I'm thinking like an ignoranus, "hmmm I need to buy a new car battery". . .Because you see my parents consistently take away my ability to make independent decisions for myself and I will explain all that later.
But because of all that I was forced to set out on a quest. A quest to find, pay for, and install a new car battery at 2300 on a sunday night and have them not know. So I go to the bank planning to withdraw $200 which is almost 50% of my standing savings account. Do you see my commitment for the whole gain independence at the age of 19 from my parents? Well apparently you can't make a withdraw from your own savings at an ATM? I mean I never tried, but I thought it was an option considering it asks you the account type. So I don't have the ability to get cash, but I could overrun my checking in the hopes I would not get charged too heftily for transferring funds.
I decide it would be worth the risk and the cost to try it out. I go home, park the car in the driveway and leave the car running. I run inside the house trying to not wake my parents and I grab my laptop. I then return to the car, and google queries like '24 hour car serve [my zipcode]' and 'emergency car batteries'. I called like seven different places and all of them were willing to tow me, but not sell me a battery alone.
I'm pretty pissed at myself at this point. Hope is fading about as quickly as my idea of getting more than 6 hours of sleep before work.
At this point I call Diana and explain the ordeal and of course she comes to the rescue. "Why are you buying a new battery?"
"Because the other one is dead. . .?"
"Your battery is rechargeable!"
"Wait, it is?"
"Yes"
"No way? HOW!!!???"
"Just drive around for an hour"
"If I leave my car running for an hour it will recharge the battery?"
"Yes"
"OK!"
So there it was. I had a new mission. Get some crappy food and just make a joke of my night. Try to unwind on my own and realize that this is not a real emergency. There was no "existential threat" as John McCain would say. So I go to McDonald's and they are closed. I'm really thinking about fries at this point. My favorite fries of all time are by far Rally's. Honestly, they are so freakin' good. I'm sure each fry takes more time off your life than a cigarette but I never smoke and hardly ever eat fries that it is worth it to me.
So I go on an expedition to Rally's because I "Hadda Eat". I pull up to the drive through hoping to grab some fries and a shake. I make the order. . .
"Hey dude yeah can I get a small chocolate shake and a small order of fries"
"Da shake machine down"
"Oh, well then I'll just take the fries with a hi-c"
So I pull up to the window and pay this guy, he hands me my hi-c and I proceed to wait there for the better part of 10 minutes waiting for these fries. In the meantime, he leaves the window open and has a conversation on his cell phone where he is yelling things like:
"Yeah doe though LAX is decent forreal like mang like I ain't never been dere fo sho like but I did hurr it was alright doe."
and. ..
"Yeah mang but she aint fat doe. Lie you can tell lie dat you know she lies her foods doe but she ain't like fat."
Eventually I get my fries and immediately am depressed about my shake. So I venture over to Steak 'n Shake. Here is the place where a good time is being had by all. People waddling out of their cars, more round than a sphere. Looks like some freestyle battles are going on inside. And all the while it looks like everyone in the kitchen is fast at work but the drive through still took forever to get those burgers out. I ordered one chocolate shake. Waited in line for a bit while still in communication with Diana. I got my shake and before I could identify just how delicious it was it was inside of my with a sprinkling of Rally's fries. As I drove home I realized that I had actually just inhaled a 16 oz shake and two handfuls of fries and something clicked on my stomach started the aches. I drove home knowing I had only a few more minutes until I could stop and turn off the car and try to sleep.
I pulled up in front of my house, parked on the street, and took a moment in breathe before turning off the car after running it for a grand total of 71 minutes. I shut off the lights and turned the key. The ceiling light came on. I put the key back into the ignition and slowly turned it hoping to the cosmic powers that the engine would rev and start. It did. I sighed a small and arrogant release. Pulled my trash together and walked inside. All of well with the car, but it was gaining midnight with great speed and all I could think about was waking at 0545. I climbed onto my sleeping platform that we call beds and layed there for a while contemplating what a great depression would start off as but decided to not consider the possibilities of such events. Slowly it turned into other thoughts and before I knew it/several hours later I fell into a slumber only to be rudely awaken about three hours later by the song 'Diving' by 4 Strings. As I climbed out of bed it occurred to me that perhaps I had not shutoff the lights again on my dad's suped up '99.
I did though.
But now your probably drawn into this story and spun around like a crack head who hears someone exclaim, "I love drinking coke!"
Since, you are dying of curiosity let me indulge you a little. It all started about two hours ago when I was leaving Diana's. You see my NOT dimwitted manager decided to schedule me to work for nine days/ eternity-plus in a row. So after going to work at 0800 today, which meant not getting enough sleep last night, I got off around 1430. which is kickin' except for the fact, that since I got up at eight I'm exhausted. This is building up to an excuse for my absence of mind throughout the day. So after forgetting to clock out at work, I go home. Home of course is a place I will describe one day, so that whenever you decide for yourself to analyze this jumbled piece of trash I call my "blog" you can see where all this garbage came from.
So, I get home and complete some daily routine stuff, good times, really good times. Check in with my LH dudes and listen to some tunes to unwind. I decide to go to Diana's which I did after a short skirmish that I defused with my mother. Always obstacles to get out of this house. . . I go to Diana's around 1630 or so. Massive fun watched The Brothers Grimm I think it was called. Matt Damon and Heath Ledger???
Everything is good. Today/tomorrow I am scheduled to work at 0630. Yeah exactly, why in the hell for everything that is holy would anyone need to work that early for something other than the good of human life? Well I'll give you a hint. It's plural, part of the horse family, and yeah you get it. So I had to leave Diana's around 2200 so I could get home and get sleep for that early shift.
A slight problem however that greatly influence my plans of early departure of consciousness. My dad's suped (and by suped I mean incredibly minor body damage) up '99 Chevy Cavalier does not have an automatic headlight shutoff system. So in the event that an absent minded driver (absent minded while NOT driving) such as myself forgets to turn them off in broad day light, they will run down the battery.
So as you can guess I get back to my car only to realize my mistake the moment I switch my lights to find they are already on. Good job Fife, you really did it this time. So I return to Diana's house to ask for jumper cables. This turns out all to be very good because I had never ever jumped a car in my life and tonight I learned how so I was all about it.
I AM GOING TO FINISH THIS TOMORROW AFTERNOON AFTER A LOVELY DAY OF WORK THAT I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO ABOUT AS MUCH AS GETTING TURNED INTO A ZOMBIE
Cont.
Well I survived, obviously. It's not about 1800 and I have been home for a few hours puttering around; I don't remember what I did. I took a nap that pretty much grabbed some of my time without a giving me a receipt of less exhaustion.
So back to the story at hand. I start driving home and in my mind I'm thinking like an ignoranus, "hmmm I need to buy a new car battery". . .Because you see my parents consistently take away my ability to make independent decisions for myself and I will explain all that later.
But because of all that I was forced to set out on a quest. A quest to find, pay for, and install a new car battery at 2300 on a sunday night and have them not know. So I go to the bank planning to withdraw $200 which is almost 50% of my standing savings account. Do you see my commitment for the whole gain independence at the age of 19 from my parents? Well apparently you can't make a withdraw from your own savings at an ATM? I mean I never tried, but I thought it was an option considering it asks you the account type. So I don't have the ability to get cash, but I could overrun my checking in the hopes I would not get charged too heftily for transferring funds.
I decide it would be worth the risk and the cost to try it out. I go home, park the car in the driveway and leave the car running. I run inside the house trying to not wake my parents and I grab my laptop. I then return to the car, and google queries like '24 hour car serve [my zipcode]' and 'emergency car batteries'. I called like seven different places and all of them were willing to tow me, but not sell me a battery alone.
I'm pretty pissed at myself at this point. Hope is fading about as quickly as my idea of getting more than 6 hours of sleep before work.
At this point I call Diana and explain the ordeal and of course she comes to the rescue. "Why are you buying a new battery?"
"Because the other one is dead. . .?"
"Your battery is rechargeable!"
"Wait, it is?"
"Yes"
"No way? HOW!!!???"
"Just drive around for an hour"
"If I leave my car running for an hour it will recharge the battery?"
"Yes"
"OK!"
So there it was. I had a new mission. Get some crappy food and just make a joke of my night. Try to unwind on my own and realize that this is not a real emergency. There was no "existential threat" as John McCain would say. So I go to McDonald's and they are closed. I'm really thinking about fries at this point. My favorite fries of all time are by far Rally's. Honestly, they are so freakin' good. I'm sure each fry takes more time off your life than a cigarette but I never smoke and hardly ever eat fries that it is worth it to me.
So I go on an expedition to Rally's because I "Hadda Eat". I pull up to the drive through hoping to grab some fries and a shake. I make the order. . .
"Hey dude yeah can I get a small chocolate shake and a small order of fries"
"Da shake machine down"
"Oh, well then I'll just take the fries with a hi-c"
So I pull up to the window and pay this guy, he hands me my hi-c and I proceed to wait there for the better part of 10 minutes waiting for these fries. In the meantime, he leaves the window open and has a conversation on his cell phone where he is yelling things like:
"Yeah doe though LAX is decent forreal like mang like I ain't never been dere fo sho like but I did hurr it was alright doe."
and. ..
"Yeah mang but she aint fat doe. Lie you can tell lie dat you know she lies her foods doe but she ain't like fat."
Eventually I get my fries and immediately am depressed about my shake. So I venture over to Steak 'n Shake. Here is the place where a good time is being had by all. People waddling out of their cars, more round than a sphere. Looks like some freestyle battles are going on inside. And all the while it looks like everyone in the kitchen is fast at work but the drive through still took forever to get those burgers out. I ordered one chocolate shake. Waited in line for a bit while still in communication with Diana. I got my shake and before I could identify just how delicious it was it was inside of my with a sprinkling of Rally's fries. As I drove home I realized that I had actually just inhaled a 16 oz shake and two handfuls of fries and something clicked on my stomach started the aches. I drove home knowing I had only a few more minutes until I could stop and turn off the car and try to sleep.
I pulled up in front of my house, parked on the street, and took a moment in breathe before turning off the car after running it for a grand total of 71 minutes. I shut off the lights and turned the key. The ceiling light came on. I put the key back into the ignition and slowly turned it hoping to the cosmic powers that the engine would rev and start. It did. I sighed a small and arrogant release. Pulled my trash together and walked inside. All of well with the car, but it was gaining midnight with great speed and all I could think about was waking at 0545. I climbed onto my sleeping platform that we call beds and layed there for a while contemplating what a great depression would start off as but decided to not consider the possibilities of such events. Slowly it turned into other thoughts and before I knew it/several hours later I fell into a slumber only to be rudely awaken about three hours later by the song 'Diving' by 4 Strings. As I climbed out of bed it occurred to me that perhaps I had not shutoff the lights again on my dad's suped up '99.
I did though.
24 September 2008
OK just go.
Alright folks here we go big time.
I have been accepted to NKU. Where I will most likely end up going. Because of this acceptance, I now get the luxury of choosing which path to take. You know paths of your life. It's like in a video game except you can't go back and replay a chapter of your existence.
I also get to quit my job. I have really tried to minimize the amount of cursing. As you can tell, I have yet to use any such word even once. If you know me in person you will feel that I swear more than average, maybe. But I really wanted to keep this one cleaner. That is really besides the point, however. What I am trying to express is that if I were to (for example) call my job the exponentially worse than Dante's inferno BITCH CARNIVAL FROM HELL it would probably only be exaggerating slightly. I will definitely give a few posts job priority.
What I am most excited about is taking six weeks to do nothing. And by saying that I am doing nothing for six weeks this is what I am referring to:
Updating this blog regularly
Posting Videos on Youtube Daily
Reading several text books
Learning french
Sleeping until 1500 and sleeping at 0600
E P I C ! ! !
Don't you see the splendor?
I will be able to finally do the things I want to do like list fantastic things I like to do and really delve into MY LIFE. Not the life somebody wants me to have. Starting on Oct. 20 you will see for many weeks the new Life of Fife like never before. This blog will become what I hoped it could be and if not than you need to hold me accountable. Definitely check back soon too for some awesomely stories!
I have been accepted to NKU. Where I will most likely end up going. Because of this acceptance, I now get the luxury of choosing which path to take. You know paths of your life. It's like in a video game except you can't go back and replay a chapter of your existence.
I also get to quit my job. I have really tried to minimize the amount of cursing. As you can tell, I have yet to use any such word even once. If you know me in person you will feel that I swear more than average, maybe. But I really wanted to keep this one cleaner. That is really besides the point, however. What I am trying to express is that if I were to (for example) call my job the exponentially worse than Dante's inferno BITCH CARNIVAL FROM HELL it would probably only be exaggerating slightly. I will definitely give a few posts job priority.
What I am most excited about is taking six weeks to do nothing. And by saying that I am doing nothing for six weeks this is what I am referring to:
Updating this blog regularly
Posting Videos on Youtube Daily
Reading several text books
Learning french
Sleeping until 1500 and sleeping at 0600
E P I C ! ! !
Don't you see the splendor?
I will be able to finally do the things I want to do like list fantastic things I like to do and really delve into MY LIFE. Not the life somebody wants me to have. Starting on Oct. 20 you will see for many weeks the new Life of Fife like never before. This blog will become what I hoped it could be and if not than you need to hold me accountable. Definitely check back soon too for some awesomely stories!
15 September 2008
Part 2 of that last one
Who I Am
My name is Fife. I am 19 years old. I am from Cincinnati, Ohio. I went to school for one year and though I gained honors and was on the Dean's List I left because I did not enjoy it very much. I love techno music. I enjoy listening to Miles David, John Coltrane, Michael Buble, Frank Sinatra, and Bobby Darin. I also enjoy listening to Johnny Cash from time to time. I often spend time thinking about the end of the world. Not from a religious sense with the rapture or an apocalypse because I am not a religious person exactly. But I am practically convinced I will see the collapse of human existence or at least the collapse of our modern ways due to nuclear fallout, peak oil, global warming, or maybe even something more exciting like the evolution of an AI that can become exponentially intelligent. When I'm not pondering the demise of our species I enjoy writing, sometimes like this and sometimes in other ways. I also daydream about future and upcoming video games. When I'm not writing I am usually doing something else like reading, playing video games, or spending time with Diana. (not in that order) I read about anything and everything. I enjoy politics and discussing them and arguing them. I enjoy video games. You can find me on XBL my tag is Beadoleoma. Beadoleoma is a very, very olde enlgish word for sword. It is actually pronounced Bee-ad-ol-ay-ah-mah. Beadol (battle) leoma (light) not quite like that because I don't actually know anything about olde enlgish other than that is supposedly the breakdown. Beadoleoma can actually be found in 'Beowulf.'
In the short term I have several goals. Get back into school somewhere. Learn French. Publish several articles of some sort in the Enquirer. Start an ongoing group about peak oil and localization in Cincinnati.
Diana will have an entire post dedicated to her.
As for politics. . . Sarah Palin I don't like you because you are a creationist. If you are a woman reading this I would urge you to consider joining the WASPs; Women Against Sarah Palin but I am no way affiliated with them. Rumor has it when you join you have to blink.
I think this is all I am going to write for now, my parents are calling me to have some things done. I realize that by admitting I am living with my parents certain amounts of respect is dropped from my name. . . I shall dedicate an entire post about that as well.
Bonsoir
My name is Fife. I am 19 years old. I am from Cincinnati, Ohio. I went to school for one year and though I gained honors and was on the Dean's List I left because I did not enjoy it very much. I love techno music. I enjoy listening to Miles David, John Coltrane, Michael Buble, Frank Sinatra, and Bobby Darin. I also enjoy listening to Johnny Cash from time to time. I often spend time thinking about the end of the world. Not from a religious sense with the rapture or an apocalypse because I am not a religious person exactly. But I am practically convinced I will see the collapse of human existence or at least the collapse of our modern ways due to nuclear fallout, peak oil, global warming, or maybe even something more exciting like the evolution of an AI that can become exponentially intelligent. When I'm not pondering the demise of our species I enjoy writing, sometimes like this and sometimes in other ways. I also daydream about future and upcoming video games. When I'm not writing I am usually doing something else like reading, playing video games, or spending time with Diana. (not in that order) I read about anything and everything. I enjoy politics and discussing them and arguing them. I enjoy video games. You can find me on XBL my tag is Beadoleoma. Beadoleoma is a very, very olde enlgish word for sword. It is actually pronounced Bee-ad-ol-ay-ah-mah. Beadol (battle) leoma (light) not quite like that because I don't actually know anything about olde enlgish other than that is supposedly the breakdown. Beadoleoma can actually be found in 'Beowulf.'
In the short term I have several goals. Get back into school somewhere. Learn French. Publish several articles of some sort in the Enquirer. Start an ongoing group about peak oil and localization in Cincinnati.
Diana will have an entire post dedicated to her.
As for politics. . . Sarah Palin I don't like you because you are a creationist. If you are a woman reading this I would urge you to consider joining the WASPs; Women Against Sarah Palin but I am no way affiliated with them. Rumor has it when you join you have to blink.
I think this is all I am going to write for now, my parents are calling me to have some things done. I realize that by admitting I am living with my parents certain amounts of respect is dropped from my name. . . I shall dedicate an entire post about that as well.
Bonsoir
Life of Fife (other names were taken) P1
Hey everyone. This is like a first real post. Right now it is about 1530 as i start this. I like military time because it makes more sense. The entire day is 24 hours. Why chop it up into two 12 hour segments? I am listening to 'Reaching Your Soul' by System F on an album compilation of System F and Gouryella. System F is an alias for Ferry Corsten, who I believe right now is ranked as the no. 7 DJ in the world. Gouryella is a collaboration between Ferry Corsten and Tiesto who is ranked no. 1. So it is very much a progressive house/trace/dance music. I like this kind of music because it gets me pumped up and excited. One of the biggest problems that I have had for as long as I can remember is a lack of physical motivation. If my ideas and thoughts could just put themselves down on paper and work themselves out, I would be a millionaire, though many people would agree the same would be for them. But still, I often feel nauseated at the thought of doing very strenuous work or even sometimes moving at all. It is not so much that I am lazy, it is that I am entirely unmotivated. Techno motivates my soul. My mind becomes energized and I suddenly feel a weight lifted and I want to go out and physically do things and use my whole mind.
Before I started writing this I was working on the yard. Hurricane Ike as I stated in my previous post just happened to continue its low pressure gusts in this direction which ended up wiping out out a couple trees with 70 mph winds, causing four known deaths, and 800,000 people to lose power for some time. Over 500,000 people have now gone for over 24 hours without power.
its now a little later and i have gotten carried away a bit while writing here I am in the Lionhead chat on IRC. Lionhead is the developer behind Fable II a game I have been waiting for since May of 2007.
OK so at some point today/tonight I plan on writing a letter to the editor about this whole electrical power out thing. One of my major interests is Peak Oil. I will get into your desert because I would not want to ruin it. But yesterday and today with the power out people have been going crazy and it certainly has been weird to see what people do in a setting where everything they know is suddenly killed by the lack of electric current. . . I want to bring awareness to Peak Oil and really start something going in Cincinnati about what it is and what it will bring and what we need to do to be ready. BTW this is not my normal writing style this is totally fragmented and disorganized I can't seem to get out my thoughts quickly enough to encompass my stream of thought. Next post I will start more from the beginning.
Before I started writing this I was working on the yard. Hurricane Ike as I stated in my previous post just happened to continue its low pressure gusts in this direction which ended up wiping out out a couple trees with 70 mph winds, causing four known deaths, and 800,000 people to lose power for some time. Over 500,000 people have now gone for over 24 hours without power.
its now a little later and i have gotten carried away a bit while writing here I am in the Lionhead chat on IRC. Lionhead is the developer behind Fable II a game I have been waiting for since May of 2007.
OK so at some point today/tonight I plan on writing a letter to the editor about this whole electrical power out thing. One of my major interests is Peak Oil. I will get into your desert because I would not want to ruin it. But yesterday and today with the power out people have been going crazy and it certainly has been weird to see what people do in a setting where everything they know is suddenly killed by the lack of electric current. . . I want to bring awareness to Peak Oil and really start something going in Cincinnati about what it is and what it will bring and what we need to do to be ready. BTW this is not my normal writing style this is totally fragmented and disorganized I can't seem to get out my thoughts quickly enough to encompass my stream of thought. Next post I will start more from the beginning.
14 September 2008
The First
This is the first post of many. Currently, I am staying over at Diana's house after the low-pressure remnants of hurricane Ike have pushed all the way though to Cincinnati and caused winds of up to 70 mph and 850,000 residents of the Cincinnati tri-state area without power. . . Another post tonight will probably shed more light on who I am. I may also include some video footage along with audio footage of some of things I witnessed. OK more soon! (horrible first post FYI)
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