Thursday, January 29, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
"5 Minutes – Stream of Consciousness
Shit, I wish something faster was playing – but great! - here's TOOL:
The end, the beginning – what shall i write in 5 minutes?
(this isn't maynard, but fuck it's close) must be some college dropout rippoff: no vision. he sucks. PAUSE
Red Hot Chilly Peppers on now and not a second too soon. Remember when Weird Al dubbed them? The first time? I had that cassette.
TODAY is the first annual Show Your Penis to a Stranger Day! Ok, I'm not participating, but that's cause Dr. Rork is way the hell down in NH being White. Next time.
Shit, wasting time on deleting – no edit (1:30 to go) – STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS – Keep Going!
Beats, Phat Beats, Rocking the mic on my Mac. Mic Mac Mic Mac. I heard Anthony Keetis is tone-deaf. Had you heard that?
4 ½ minutes up!
Monday, January 26, 2009
What great sources of useful information!
Incidentally, the tapeworm diet does make your hair fall out and your liver fail.
I'm no doctor, but I'd say you should stick to eating lard sans the tapeworms. You may not lose as much weight, but at least you'll be happy.
(Also, I haven't done the leg work for this one yet, but I have to imagine she's not liking this as much as she lets on. I guess it could be some sort aerosolized roofie, but I'm thinking cigar breath has just devolved over the years. I'm sure when Barack reopens trade with Cuba, cigar breath will reclaim its rightful place as an aphrodisiac in American culture.)
Sunday, January 25, 2009
See if you can find Justice Antonin Scalia farting on Justice John Paul Stevens (HINT: Clarence Thomas is sleeping just behind them.)
Saturday, January 24, 2009
This one goes out to all the creators out there:
(also, any thoughts on why 'promise' and 'promiscuous' look so similar? That's just crazy!)
I accidentally posted a writing assignment destined for another blog on this page. I contemplated removing it - especially seeing that it gives away my clever pseudonym - but decided to leave it. What the hell, right? And, it does give me the chance to spread the word about Blended Whiskey, a new group writing project open to all who are interested.
Here's how it works:
1. go to blendedwhiskey.blogspot.com and find a writing assignment someone's posted
2. complete the writing assignment
3. post it (putting the assignment you're completing in "Quotes")
That's it! Most assignments are less than a page long, so it's an easy way to play around with the written word if you haven't got heaps of time. Don't be shy. Use a nom de plume. It's easy.
Keep in mind, most of this stuff is little more than a first draft (as you can see below) and isn't real polished. So, if want to play around with some writing - or want an audience, notes et cetera - leave me a message someplace and I'll get you a password.
13 October 2008
“Define Success,” the tweed clad professor asked as he strode through the large oak-paneled classroom. It was filled with 16-17 year old students wearing red blazers over white oxford shirts and blue and red plaid ties.
“Success,” said a chipper young girl with auburn hair, “Is the souls achievement of its most foundational dreams.” The class groaned. The one other girl in the room looked away, holding back equal parts laughter and embarrassment. The only difference in dress between these two and the twenty or so males making up the majority of the class were their knee-length wool skirts and white socks in place of the boys' khaki slacks.
“Thank you, my dear.” said the professor, cleaning his glasses on a silk tie. “That was,” he paused, “informative. Anyone else?” A stocky, red-faced youth with a military buzz-cut half coughed and grunted before raising his fingertips.
“Yeah, uh. Success is- success is like...”
“I did not ask what success is like,” the professor interjected, suddenly stern. “I asked you to define it. Anyone else?” A pigeon-chested boy with greasy black hair and ubiquitous acne inched his hand into the air. “Yes, Mr. Mendle?”
“I think success,” he began slowly, “Is meeting your goals, and...”
“And what are your goals, Mr. Mendle? Showing up to class on time, maybe? Not too successful this morning then. And what about yours, Mr. Anderson?” A squat red haired boy choked and sputtered, spilling water down his shirt.
“Me?” he asked, recapping his water bottle.”
“You, Mr. Anderson. What are your goals?”
“I dunno,” he said. “A house, maybe. Wife, kids, a good job? What do you mean?” he added, noticing the snickering faces around the room.
“And you, James?” asked the professor, ignoring this comment. He motioned to the sallow, symmetrically faced blonde man standing at the back window. “What tickles your fancy.”
“Hm?” the blonde man grunted, glancing away from the window and looking vaguely in the professor's direction.
“What tickles your fancy, James,” enunciated the professor.
“Hmm,” he frowned, “Usually my wife.” The class erupted in laughter as the man turned back to whomever it was he was watching stroll across the back lawn. The chipper young girl who'd spoken earlier turned faintly pink and leafed through her copy of Civics: A Pursuit, before the professor finally spoke again,
“Informative,” he said slowly, “As always, Professor Tucker.” The blonde man glanced up again, nodding briefly before returning to his vigil. “Informative.”
Thursday, January 22, 2009
US President Barack Obama has ordered the closure of the Guantanamo Bay prison camp as well as all overseas CIA detention centres for terror suspects.
Signing the orders, Mr Obama said the US would continue to fight terror, but maintain "our values and our ideals".
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Thus is life.
There's a little content there - a few sporadic notes resonating against an empty white canvas that is my creativity in web design - but not a lot. So check it out. It's raw. It's slimy. (It could be your new source of creative expression if you ask nicely.) It's good stuff. Nothing here is ready for primetime; it's just a game. And a fun one at that.
If you're interested,
Check out firstname.lastname@example.org (kickass name, right?) for the details.
Monday, January 19, 2009
In perusing my local facebook, I noticed a theme in tonight's updates: Fear.
Did Obama like tear up a picture of the Pope on Saturday Night Live or something?
(Incidentally, Sinead O'Connor was right about the child abuse cover-up and we should all like her music again.)
A sampling of status updates the night before inauguration:
-"socialism countdown: 14 hours and counting."
-"wa wa wawa wa wa wa."
-"getting ready for the illegal inauguration, and the Death of America Tomorrow."
-"had no plans of attending a metallica concert last night but somehow ended up at one."
The last one had nothing to do with the inauguration, but that's my point. Here are a few other updates:
-"...wants you to check out the pictures of my beautiful little niece."
-"writing a song"
-"...is looking at dresses... oh my. (she doesn't like any of them!)"
-"...is excited for snow tomorrow!!!"
What does the first cluster of folks know that the second does not? Could it be this gem - in response to the "Death of America" comment:
-"I agree 100%!!!!!!!! We will definitely be making history tomorrow - inaugurating a person who is NOT a U.S. CITIZEN!!!!! What a tragedy!"
That does sound frightening! Did no one get a CV on this guy?
Let's take a step back and remember a couple of things:
1. President Obama does not believe in gay marriage.
2. President Obama has not announced plans to make abortions any more available than they have been in recent years.
---My evangelical friends should breathe a sigh of relief - Here.---
3. President Obama has stated plainly that he does not plan to socialize health care.
4. President Obama has not made any plans known that would remove citizens' rights to bear arms.
If I were president, I would fight for the legalization of gay marriage, for abortion reform that doesn't fit on a bumper sticker, for universal, government funded health care, for outlawing handguns and for the reallocation of a whole heap of our military resources and spending toward more constructive endeavors. But I'm not president. And if I were, I still couldn't do any one of those things without the overwhelming support of two houses of congress (each effectively split down the middle by party) and/or a supreme court that has just been stacked with right wing ideologues. No, even someone as liberal, leftist, and morally ambiguous as myself couldn't gay up the nation all by my lonesome.
What powers would I have as president...?
1. I could move a metric shit-ton of troops anywhere I wanted for a period of time without congressional approval.
2. I could appoint supreme court justices who back me ideologically.
As it turns out, President Obama is not a big fan of war. I'm thinking he won't be taking advantage of power #1 too often. As for power #2, what are we always saying about supreme court justices? Oh, right: they should be folks who "uphold the Constitution" and whatnot. I wonder what kind of justices President Obama, a 12 year professor of constitutional law who's just filled his cabinet with as many political rivals as allies, will appoint to the bench. Probably not a leftist ideologue.
Now, I'm an ass - always have been. You don't want me as president.
If you had to choose a person to be president - a person with whom you disagreed politically on a whole slew of issues - you could do worse than a guy like Barack InflammatoryMiddleName Obama. Right?
Thursday, January 15, 2009
From now on I'll just do what I always do before takeoff: pretend to be terrified of flying and grip the neighboring armrests in mock fear, thus staking my claim and expanding my local territory for the durration of the flight. And, this time it will all be sans my usually pithy and cynical banter. Sigh. Is safety really worth the cost?
Now, vagabonding has always held a soft spot in my soul but there was never a nickname there... until now.
You can call me Vagus.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
I feel - something - for not keeping up with this blog. I'd promise to do better, but the spastic equilibrium that is the fabric of my consciousness will surly get the better of me. After a trip South - twice in 10 days - and a reprioritization of life goals (new year's intentions - not 'resolutions' I'm told), Things should be looking up. I posted a few writing assignments on BlendedWhiskey@blogspot.com under a shawshankian pseudonym, so that's a start. Mostly, though, I've just been impressed by Pandora's writing.
So, thanks for reading if you've been reading, and check out the above blog if you get a chance. I think it's a good one.
Now, off to see if I passed my skull quiz...
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Who am I kidding; medical school is a creativity zap capable of all manner of crimes against Humanity ( capital 'H' ).
Head and neck anatomy by all accounts seems to be a bit like having one's left hand (or other appendage) locked in a vice grip for six weeks. We have a skull quiz Friday. I will make it my bitch before focusing a shit-ton of good energy on the region surrounding my crista galli and let it seep through the sieve of my cribiform plate before getting sucked in through my eyeballs, past my retinae, criss-crossing along my chiasmatic sulcus and perfusing throughout my brain and CNS. That, or I'll take a couple Benedryll, call it a night and wake up dehydrated sometime Saturday afternoon.
Maybe then I will shovel out my parking spot
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Anyhoo, it's Sunday, fucking Sunday, and the skull awaits my Osteopathic touch. I'm back in the land of snow and bitchy neighbors. My long standing feud with a neighbor over day time hot water usage culminated while I was away when she hired a plow truck to dump a shit ton of snow neatly and completely on my parking space. I do not know how high the pile was origionally, but it has since melted down to a solid rectangle of snow, sand and ice 10' x 14' wide and 5 feet high! I'm gonna tare that 'give peace a dance' bumpersticker right off her fucking car and shower with it untill my skin blisters with indignation. Better yet, I'm gonna drink a whole bottle of beer all by myself and get a good night sleep for anatomy tomorrow morning! Damn the man.