Fist raised in fury, The Sugue doth reign,
Computer before him, his homework not slain.
Procrastination his ally and closest friend,
His wasting time shall never end!
Darkened skin and blackened heart,
A stereotype, he plays the part.
He's not that fast, he's not that strong,
But he'll whoop your rear in a game o Pong!
He may not know ions, but he knows his games;
When it comes to a controller he more than maims.
His grammar is without compare,
The posting king, a background nightmare.
His following is greater than you'd think,
Into his faction you just might sink!
Yet he stays aloof, when he can
For that's David Sugue, a gamin' man.
But those years of gaming have taken their toll,
So worldly annihilation is now his goal.
But who can blame him? Is he not right?
You can't help but urge him in his plight!
Thus is The Sugue, dark, dreary, and sad
(He's really a romantic and not half that bad!)
Well there you are, don't ask me why,
I had to do it, by and by.
It's not all that great, but is anything?
"Ode to the Sugue" does have a ring.
Perhaps another? More to come?
Or maybe I've had a bit too much rum.
You want a rhyme? You merely request,
I'll make you one at your behest!
Or maybe you should pay so that I'll not!
No one should be forced to read this rot!
I don't really know enough to write,
But I used what I had, and made what I might.
It's hard to know a person well,
So I used what I knew, who else can tell?
Inaccurate? Flawed? Yes and more!
But really, don't we all need some lore?
Thus ends rhyme week, and it's about time,
I bet you're all tired of rhyme after rhyme!
But there will be more, certainly soon,
What else can you expect from this ole loon?
Saturday, January 31
Thursday, January 29
More than one test, Means little rest
Tests aplenty, that's what I've got,
Some "scholarly flu" I must have caught.
3 tests tomorrow, all not fun,
Work aplenty, almost a tun.
Really, I need to get to work,
I cannot rhyme or online lurk.
But studying is such a drag!
My brain hurts so, my eyelids sag.
I try to focus, keep it in,
But then I must must re-read again!
Absorb, absorb, at least for now,
But retain, retain, I don't know how!
I'll forget it soon, what use could it be?
I don't know how it can help me!
Yet still I grind and read and speak,
My memory I always tweak.
It's only needed for just one day,
Then burn it all, that's what I say!
After the test, the threat is past,
But still the deadline's coming oh so fast.
I'll relearn it at final's time,
But I still need to end this rhyme.
So I'll leave you with this advice:
Do what you want, and just play nice.
Some "scholarly flu" I must have caught.
3 tests tomorrow, all not fun,
Work aplenty, almost a tun.
Really, I need to get to work,
I cannot rhyme or online lurk.
But studying is such a drag!
My brain hurts so, my eyelids sag.
I try to focus, keep it in,
But then I must must re-read again!
Absorb, absorb, at least for now,
But retain, retain, I don't know how!
I'll forget it soon, what use could it be?
I don't know how it can help me!
Yet still I grind and read and speak,
My memory I always tweak.
It's only needed for just one day,
Then burn it all, that's what I say!
After the test, the threat is past,
But still the deadline's coming oh so fast.
I'll relearn it at final's time,
But I still need to end this rhyme.
So I'll leave you with this advice:
Do what you want, and just play nice.
Tuesday, January 27
Another Day, Same Old Play
Yet another day has gone away,
The same as the last, many would say.
Nothing was new, it was all the same
Like taking a turn in the same old game.
I'd like something new, on which to think,
Instead of my own thoughts into which I sink.
But my own thoughts I use, and they shall have to suffice
For using someone else's just wouldn't be nice!
I'd like to form something, maybe a club
Something entertaining, a board game hub!
Or perhaps discussions to entertain the mind,
Neither's done enough is what I oft find.
But all that needs work, which is what I won't do
So I'll do something else to amuse me (and you!)
I'll create a story, both foolish and mad
An epic adventure, one oh so bad!
It won't be written well, nor will it be great
But it'll be better than nothing, sure not to sedate.
How will I find time? I really don't know,
It's better than History (but nothing's that low).
But I need to work, so that's all for this rhyme
Farewell and stay happy, until the next time!
The same as the last, many would say.
Nothing was new, it was all the same
Like taking a turn in the same old game.
I'd like something new, on which to think,
Instead of my own thoughts into which I sink.
But my own thoughts I use, and they shall have to suffice
For using someone else's just wouldn't be nice!
I'd like to form something, maybe a club
Something entertaining, a board game hub!
Or perhaps discussions to entertain the mind,
Neither's done enough is what I oft find.
But all that needs work, which is what I won't do
So I'll do something else to amuse me (and you!)
I'll create a story, both foolish and mad
An epic adventure, one oh so bad!
It won't be written well, nor will it be great
But it'll be better than nothing, sure not to sedate.
How will I find time? I really don't know,
It's better than History (but nothing's that low).
But I need to work, so that's all for this rhyme
Farewell and stay happy, until the next time!
Sunday, January 25
Riddle #10
Most places you go you’ll find this all around,
There’s rarely a place where this isn’t found.
This you can’t surf, yet you can feel through the ground;
It can have overwhelming force, but does not weigh a pound.
It’s quite integral for us to maintain,
If it ever stopped, it’d become hard to explain.
A device for great beauty, yet also for pain
Grand like an explosion or sweet as falling rain.
It drives some into madness, but pulls some from the brink,
It’s found quite annoying when we need to think.
Yet without it around, into loneliness you shall sink;
So what is this connection? What is this grand link?
Well that's this week's riddle, I do hope you enjoy;
You can also rhyme too, for that's this week's ploy.
I'll be rhyming in entries, some on IMs too
It'll drive you insane before this week's all through.
(They rhymes won't all be perfect, most won't even be nice;
But at least I'm trying and rolling those dice!)
So just for now, follow the plan I've laid out
Laugh, post, participate, stand up and shout!
Just don't remain concealed in the shadows so dark,
Because if you do, this thing becomes stark.
If you don't want to try, I do understand,
I'll go it alone, with just myself to command!
I've given you options, take them if you will,
(The services are free, there's really no bill).
So until next time when I rhyme some more
Join in yourself, don't let this be a bore!
There’s rarely a place where this isn’t found.
This you can’t surf, yet you can feel through the ground;
It can have overwhelming force, but does not weigh a pound.
It’s quite integral for us to maintain,
If it ever stopped, it’d become hard to explain.
A device for great beauty, yet also for pain
Grand like an explosion or sweet as falling rain.
It drives some into madness, but pulls some from the brink,
It’s found quite annoying when we need to think.
Yet without it around, into loneliness you shall sink;
So what is this connection? What is this grand link?
Well that's this week's riddle, I do hope you enjoy;
You can also rhyme too, for that's this week's ploy.
I'll be rhyming in entries, some on IMs too
It'll drive you insane before this week's all through.
(They rhymes won't all be perfect, most won't even be nice;
But at least I'm trying and rolling those dice!)
So just for now, follow the plan I've laid out
Laugh, post, participate, stand up and shout!
Just don't remain concealed in the shadows so dark,
Because if you do, this thing becomes stark.
If you don't want to try, I do understand,
I'll go it alone, with just myself to command!
I've given you options, take them if you will,
(The services are free, there's really no bill).
So until next time when I rhyme some more
Join in yourself, don't let this be a bore!
Friday, January 23
The State of the Blog Address, or "Not Gone, But Forgotten"
Well, well, well. Contrary to the title, I'm not gone, forgotten, or even thirsty at this very moment. (Now, it could be argued that to be forgotten is to be ultimately gone, and if not forgotten, you can't be gone, and that I am gone, forgotten, and thirsty if you put things in a certain philosophical context. However, seeing as how the last time I brought up anything remotely relevant to the real state of affairs in this crazy, mixed up little planet of ours, my wonderful comment system went down and was replaced by some imitating hack. So, as a favor to everyone involved, suffice it to say that the italicized text should be forgotten, ignored, and probably annihilated from all memory. Hopefully that makes no sense to you, because I shudder to think of the problems arising from that.)
First (or second) off, I'd like to apologize for the sporadic nature of my posts. I know some of you obtain some inkling of temporary entertainment from them, or at least waste some of your oh so abundant spare time trying to ponder how exactly someone in my state of mind can tie his shoes, much less form coherent sentences. Ok, so maybe that sentences part isn't the best example. Anyway, I could give you a few excuses, most of which would be nonsense. Not that there's anything wrong with complete and utter nonsense, but I wouldn't want to dilute the sheer magnitude of the real reasons. One, on any given night I most likely have homework in at least 4 of my five classes. This is in direct violation of last semester when I could put off my masses of chemistry til the weekend (and I had accounting then, no homework how I miss thee!). Another is that I seem to have developed an unfortunate tendency to almost immediately become very tired when I open an English or History text. It's not even that unpleasant, just the volume of all the work to be done(not that it's all that much, I just don't look forward to it) weighs down so heavily, I don't have enough mental stamina to bear it. So what do I do? I do what any other self-disrespecting slacker would. I take a nap. Now, I unfortunately lack the ability to fall asleep as soon as I try, but at least I can give my mind the impression that it's resting (Yes, I trick my mind quite frequently; it really is a silly little thing). So that's what I've been doing most of the past week. Exciting, isn't it? If you're as enthralled as I am in this bland little debacle of existence as I am, you're probably considering a nap yourself. (Or you could join my next crazy attempt to entertain myself which will be mentioned shortly).
Now, instead of writing a ramble/rant about whatever random insignificant events I deem worthy of using more of my time on, I'll tell you of my plans for the future and how you, the eager, energetic, and active reader, can participate. As you and I well know, I've been doing a riddle many weeks since I started this thing. Well, for whatever reason (be they inconsistentcy, difficulty, Derek's domination, elf sympathizers bent on stopping any interest in activities contrary to their free verse world, the colors, intimidating and verbose blocks of intimidating mindless drivel, or you've just got something better to do), interest has obviously declined. I wrote a riddle two weeks ago and not one person answered it. Now, I'd assume at least three people still check this thing on a semi-regular basis (as evident from the comments and the occasional "Dylan you lazy, good-for-nothing, slight-eccentric, bum I need to waste more time reading nonsense, so get to work!"). This leads me to believe you either don't check regularly enough to see them in between enormous blocks of ramblings, or find them boring, too challenging, too easy, too flawed, or no point if you can't win.
It's fine with me if that's the case. I'd just like some imput. So, over different parts of the next two weeks I'll have "Viewer Appreciation" entries and activities to figure out how many poor lost souls are still reading this thing out in that uncomprehendable void I like to call "not me." Therefore, I've decided to try a few ideas:
1. One is for another continuing story. Now, it would be formatted differently from the last one in a few key ways. My idea is to create another blog (Yes, you can do that) and invite others to post directly to it instead of just commenting(Yes, you can do that too). Instead of randomly letting anyone respond, only the initial set of people responding in an interesting fashion would be able to participate (if late comers arrive I can create yet another; I know I've got the time to waste). The new story would use a prompt I set up, then move on however you want. The people that get let in to each story (by responding in email or comment form to this post within a week) will then be assigned a random order. This order will remain in existence until the end of the blog. Instead of randomly posting, each person would post after the person before them did. You wouldn't be allowed to post at any other time and you must wait until the person before you either posts or drops out (for instance Salli, Bettey, and The Sugue sign up. Sally posts, then Bettey, then The Sugue, then Sally. Even if it takes Bettey a week, The Sugue can't post until she does.) Other than that, no rule for post length, post content, etc. It'd be nice for it to be coherent, but if it's not, it'll still be fun. So email/comment if you're remotely interested and want to join, give suggestions (for format and substance), and to ask for tax refunds and parking validations. If I even get just one person to participate I'll do it, but please only sign up if you can post at least once or twice a week.
2. Second, next week will be Rhyme Week. This means all my posts and comments (and possibly IMs, if you request it) will be rhymed. I'm not a master, but I can do alright as long as long as you understand we're all fallible, some(me) more than others. Depending on how I do, how you like it, and the price of tea in China, I may or not attribute a week a month or a day a week to fully rhyming. Ideas for this would be poems, rants in rhyme, rhymes of readers (you can ask for me to rhyme about you if you so desire; you'll get varying results), whatever. We'll see how it goes.
3. Reader's Questions and Suggestions. Now, I know there's got to be questions you've all been dieing to ask me about myself, life, the universe, everything, nothing, mongeese, and why that man won't stop staring at you at the Post Office. Questions like "What is your favorite color?" "How many days were in last week, minus Friday?" "Will you please scratch that itch on my nose, my arms are occupied but it's really annoying?" Seriously, ask anything and as many as you want. Give any suggestions for anything you want me to do with this thing. I can't guarantee I'll answer or do it, but I encourage anything! (Personal questions, nonsensem, science, philosophy, whatever). Of course, most answers will probably be facetious nonsense, but who knows? So please, send anything you can think of! (Preferably in email form; comments would spoil it for the one other person who checks this thing).
4. Riddles. Let me know if you want me to make more. I don't mind if the answer's no, I'd just like to know if I should bother. This is mostly for you people, ya know ;).
That's all, for now. Sorry it was incredibly, senselessly, and intimidatingly verbose, which is quite an accomplishment considering my trackrecord. But I really would like to get some sort of feedback and to have you guys participate in the above activities. It would give me more direction than shooting out random tripe into that vast void of internuttiness where my only way to tell if you're paying attention are comments. So let me once again reiterate: Answer my calls! Respond, reply, comment, join, cheer, jeer, be, wear, is, will be, email, live, love, laugh, be happy (you get the drift). You now have a mission. Whether you choose to accept it or not is up to you. You have a week. Use it well. Until next time...
First (or second) off, I'd like to apologize for the sporadic nature of my posts. I know some of you obtain some inkling of temporary entertainment from them, or at least waste some of your oh so abundant spare time trying to ponder how exactly someone in my state of mind can tie his shoes, much less form coherent sentences. Ok, so maybe that sentences part isn't the best example. Anyway, I could give you a few excuses, most of which would be nonsense. Not that there's anything wrong with complete and utter nonsense, but I wouldn't want to dilute the sheer magnitude of the real reasons. One, on any given night I most likely have homework in at least 4 of my five classes. This is in direct violation of last semester when I could put off my masses of chemistry til the weekend (and I had accounting then, no homework how I miss thee!). Another is that I seem to have developed an unfortunate tendency to almost immediately become very tired when I open an English or History text. It's not even that unpleasant, just the volume of all the work to be done(not that it's all that much, I just don't look forward to it) weighs down so heavily, I don't have enough mental stamina to bear it. So what do I do? I do what any other self-disrespecting slacker would. I take a nap. Now, I unfortunately lack the ability to fall asleep as soon as I try, but at least I can give my mind the impression that it's resting (Yes, I trick my mind quite frequently; it really is a silly little thing). So that's what I've been doing most of the past week. Exciting, isn't it? If you're as enthralled as I am in this bland little debacle of existence as I am, you're probably considering a nap yourself. (Or you could join my next crazy attempt to entertain myself which will be mentioned shortly).
Now, instead of writing a ramble/rant about whatever random insignificant events I deem worthy of using more of my time on, I'll tell you of my plans for the future and how you, the eager, energetic, and active reader, can participate. As you and I well know, I've been doing a riddle many weeks since I started this thing. Well, for whatever reason (be they inconsistentcy, difficulty, Derek's domination, elf sympathizers bent on stopping any interest in activities contrary to their free verse world, the colors, intimidating and verbose blocks of intimidating mindless drivel, or you've just got something better to do), interest has obviously declined. I wrote a riddle two weeks ago and not one person answered it. Now, I'd assume at least three people still check this thing on a semi-regular basis (as evident from the comments and the occasional "Dylan you lazy, good-for-nothing, slight-eccentric, bum I need to waste more time reading nonsense, so get to work!"). This leads me to believe you either don't check regularly enough to see them in between enormous blocks of ramblings, or find them boring, too challenging, too easy, too flawed, or no point if you can't win.
It's fine with me if that's the case. I'd just like some imput. So, over different parts of the next two weeks I'll have "Viewer Appreciation" entries and activities to figure out how many poor lost souls are still reading this thing out in that uncomprehendable void I like to call "not me." Therefore, I've decided to try a few ideas:
1. One is for another continuing story. Now, it would be formatted differently from the last one in a few key ways. My idea is to create another blog (Yes, you can do that) and invite others to post directly to it instead of just commenting(Yes, you can do that too). Instead of randomly letting anyone respond, only the initial set of people responding in an interesting fashion would be able to participate (if late comers arrive I can create yet another; I know I've got the time to waste). The new story would use a prompt I set up, then move on however you want. The people that get let in to each story (by responding in email or comment form to this post within a week) will then be assigned a random order. This order will remain in existence until the end of the blog. Instead of randomly posting, each person would post after the person before them did. You wouldn't be allowed to post at any other time and you must wait until the person before you either posts or drops out (for instance Salli, Bettey, and The Sugue sign up. Sally posts, then Bettey, then The Sugue, then Sally. Even if it takes Bettey a week, The Sugue can't post until she does.) Other than that, no rule for post length, post content, etc. It'd be nice for it to be coherent, but if it's not, it'll still be fun. So email/comment if you're remotely interested and want to join, give suggestions (for format and substance), and to ask for tax refunds and parking validations. If I even get just one person to participate I'll do it, but please only sign up if you can post at least once or twice a week.
2. Second, next week will be Rhyme Week. This means all my posts and comments (and possibly IMs, if you request it) will be rhymed. I'm not a master, but I can do alright as long as long as you understand we're all fallible, some(me) more than others. Depending on how I do, how you like it, and the price of tea in China, I may or not attribute a week a month or a day a week to fully rhyming. Ideas for this would be poems, rants in rhyme, rhymes of readers (you can ask for me to rhyme about you if you so desire; you'll get varying results), whatever. We'll see how it goes.
3. Reader's Questions and Suggestions. Now, I know there's got to be questions you've all been dieing to ask me about myself, life, the universe, everything, nothing, mongeese, and why that man won't stop staring at you at the Post Office. Questions like "What is your favorite color?" "How many days were in last week, minus Friday?" "Will you please scratch that itch on my nose, my arms are occupied but it's really annoying?" Seriously, ask anything and as many as you want. Give any suggestions for anything you want me to do with this thing. I can't guarantee I'll answer or do it, but I encourage anything! (Personal questions, nonsensem, science, philosophy, whatever). Of course, most answers will probably be facetious nonsense, but who knows? So please, send anything you can think of! (Preferably in email form; comments would spoil it for the one other person who checks this thing).
4. Riddles. Let me know if you want me to make more. I don't mind if the answer's no, I'd just like to know if I should bother. This is mostly for you people, ya know ;).
That's all, for now. Sorry it was incredibly, senselessly, and intimidatingly verbose, which is quite an accomplishment considering my trackrecord. But I really would like to get some sort of feedback and to have you guys participate in the above activities. It would give me more direction than shooting out random tripe into that vast void of internuttiness where my only way to tell if you're paying attention are comments. So let me once again reiterate: Answer my calls! Respond, reply, comment, join, cheer, jeer, be, wear, is, will be, email, live, love, laugh, be happy (you get the drift). You now have a mission. Whether you choose to accept it or not is up to you. You have a week. Use it well. Until next time...
Friday, January 16
Walking on Empty
It amazes me how seemingly insignificant occurences can have such a profound impact on one's pysche. I suppose after you've seen how truly unpredictable, frightening, and especially costly life can become, you begin to worry more. For instance, me and car fuel. For those who don't know, cars run on very old, decayed animals and plants. No, you don't have to stick them into some sort of massive industrial meatgrinder. They're converted into something called "oil" which is found throughout rich people's backgrounds everywhere. We call the version that is placed in cars "gas," not to be confused with the methane that is produced by cows in such an amount as to slightly contribute to global warming. This stuff contributes to it much more than cows.
So anyway, for those who don't know, I've had the unpleasant experience of running out of gas. Fortunately it was in the Burger King drive through and someone pushed me into a convenient parking spot where I then proceeded to wait for a parental unit to arrive and supply a bit more. Since then, I've had an irrational fear of running out of gas. It toys with my mind to the point that if my tank is even close to empty, I'll nervous and dread the thought of driving. Of course, this combined with the feeling that at any moment I'll spin out of control and slam into any sentient or non-sentient life-form around me really isn't good for my nerves. Now, you'd think this would encourage to fill up the tank more often. Instead, I let it reach almost empty practically every time, driving myself insane. Masochistic torture or just plain laziness? You decide.
It's the small things that can have the biggest effects, ya know? Well, I suppose big things can drive you crazy too. Such as being captured and tortured in a POW camp with no hope of a rescue in the next decade. Go figure.
On another, lighter note, I'm going to try to do a flashmob on Wednesday at 10:13AM outside the mini-auditorium. We'll shout "whoopwhoopwhoopwhoop" three times (in a Prof. Zoidberg from Futurama or possibly three stooges fashion) then walk away. For those unfamiliar with flashmobs, they're a fad that once ran rampant in large cities, but it's probably faded by now. What they consist of is sending out a mass email or something like it to a few hundred people who meet in a specific place, at a specific time, do a random action (such as quack like a duck thrice), then disperse as if nothing happened, not saying anything about it.
Will it work? I doubt it. Will anyone have the courage to try? I'll certainly try! Will we do it again? We'd better! It might be nice to have it varying, doing the noise at different times (like a round, or like a flock of whooping cranes), but that's a tad ambitious for the first attempt. Now, if done correctly, this will leave you with about 2.5minutes to get to class. I'd rather do it a bit sooner, myself, but the consensus was to do it at 10:13, so if you can't make it, it's perfectly understandable. Hopefully we'll modify the time, place, and activity and do it again sometime.
The important thing about flash mobs is for them to not have a point. You're not demonstrating, not saving the whales, not electing George Bush, not transporting your soul onto an alien space-ship in an Applewhitean attempt to achieve a utopia. It's just random. And yet, it's completely synchronized and exact. Kinda nifty, eh? I'm generally not one for modern art, but in this instance, I figure Why Not? It'll be something to look forward to. If I can't get a Spades/Board Game thing going, I may as well try something!
I suppose to use up a bit more time before my pizza is ready (oven-cooked, not delivery!), I can rant, ramble, and ~whoosh~ about two more things. One, is that for the second time in a row, I went to a destination downtown that I wasn't completely familiar with and made it back without getting lost (I had instructions, of course)! Now, for most of you this doesn't sound like much of an accomplishment. But given my tract record for driving and getting lost, this is a monumental event! A flood of relief surged through me once I reached familiar territory, like sneaking through an enemy camp undetected and reaching homebase. It's the little things.
And lastly, I may or may not go insane this weekend. Since I'm in the process of coming to terms with my already questionable existence, I may go into the depths of the unthinkable. Yes, that's right, I may start my research paper this weekend. I know, I know, I'm as shocked as you are. But if I get that bored and unproductive, I may not have any other choice. I need some sort of hobby... Anyone want to teach me how to play the accordion? Comment system went completely down, so it's being transfered to another service; it should be back up in a few days. So until next time, look at my profile for the current IM topic and see where things go! Use your imagination! Adios, for now.
So anyway, for those who don't know, I've had the unpleasant experience of running out of gas. Fortunately it was in the Burger King drive through and someone pushed me into a convenient parking spot where I then proceeded to wait for a parental unit to arrive and supply a bit more. Since then, I've had an irrational fear of running out of gas. It toys with my mind to the point that if my tank is even close to empty, I'll nervous and dread the thought of driving. Of course, this combined with the feeling that at any moment I'll spin out of control and slam into any sentient or non-sentient life-form around me really isn't good for my nerves. Now, you'd think this would encourage to fill up the tank more often. Instead, I let it reach almost empty practically every time, driving myself insane. Masochistic torture or just plain laziness? You decide.
It's the small things that can have the biggest effects, ya know? Well, I suppose big things can drive you crazy too. Such as being captured and tortured in a POW camp with no hope of a rescue in the next decade. Go figure.
On another, lighter note, I'm going to try to do a flashmob on Wednesday at 10:13AM outside the mini-auditorium. We'll shout "whoopwhoopwhoopwhoop" three times (in a Prof. Zoidberg from Futurama or possibly three stooges fashion) then walk away. For those unfamiliar with flashmobs, they're a fad that once ran rampant in large cities, but it's probably faded by now. What they consist of is sending out a mass email or something like it to a few hundred people who meet in a specific place, at a specific time, do a random action (such as quack like a duck thrice), then disperse as if nothing happened, not saying anything about it.
Will it work? I doubt it. Will anyone have the courage to try? I'll certainly try! Will we do it again? We'd better! It might be nice to have it varying, doing the noise at different times (like a round, or like a flock of whooping cranes), but that's a tad ambitious for the first attempt. Now, if done correctly, this will leave you with about 2.5minutes to get to class. I'd rather do it a bit sooner, myself, but the consensus was to do it at 10:13, so if you can't make it, it's perfectly understandable. Hopefully we'll modify the time, place, and activity and do it again sometime.
The important thing about flash mobs is for them to not have a point. You're not demonstrating, not saving the whales, not electing George Bush, not transporting your soul onto an alien space-ship in an Applewhitean attempt to achieve a utopia. It's just random. And yet, it's completely synchronized and exact. Kinda nifty, eh? I'm generally not one for modern art, but in this instance, I figure Why Not? It'll be something to look forward to. If I can't get a Spades/Board Game thing going, I may as well try something!
I suppose to use up a bit more time before my pizza is ready (oven-cooked, not delivery!), I can rant, ramble, and ~whoosh~ about two more things. One, is that for the second time in a row, I went to a destination downtown that I wasn't completely familiar with and made it back without getting lost (I had instructions, of course)! Now, for most of you this doesn't sound like much of an accomplishment. But given my tract record for driving and getting lost, this is a monumental event! A flood of relief surged through me once I reached familiar territory, like sneaking through an enemy camp undetected and reaching homebase. It's the little things.
And lastly, I may or may not go insane this weekend. Since I'm in the process of coming to terms with my already questionable existence, I may go into the depths of the unthinkable. Yes, that's right, I may start my research paper this weekend. I know, I know, I'm as shocked as you are. But if I get that bored and unproductive, I may not have any other choice. I need some sort of hobby... Anyone want to teach me how to play the accordion? Comment system went completely down, so it's being transfered to another service; it should be back up in a few days. So until next time, look at my profile for the current IM topic and see where things go! Use your imagination! Adios, for now.
Wednesday, January 14
Bureaucracy: For those who can wait.
Well, before I get into a rant, I would like everyone to note a disturbing coincidence. Almost the moment I start talking about philosophy and fate, the comment system gets shut down (the guy who runs it got kicked off his service for no apparent reason). Is this some vast conspiracy by the powers that be to stop me from taking down the system? Is the very mention that someone may be onto their plans cause enough to attempt to stop all discussion of the problem? Is Karl Rove God? At least one of those is No, you can be sure (he'd be Satan first). Anyway, it certainly does seem odd to me. But the comments will apparently be back by the weekend, so either say what ya want then, or remain silent like most of you bums usually do.
On to business. Today, like most other days, was long, tedious, and mostly uneventful. I actually started the morning more energetic than I was by the time first period was halfway over. It's amazing how well hindsight can work sometimes. I think this semester would have been perfect with two minor adjustments. But nnoooo. Such are the failures of foresight. I suppose it keeps things interesting, but that certainly doesn't mean I have to enjoy it. Really, for all my complaints, the only actual burden is stress. It's really strange too, because it's irrational stress. Once you realize the vast majority of things you do will be forgotten eventually, rendering them worthless. My mind accepts it, but my subconscious looks at it, chews it a bit, then spits it out, and places it in a biohazard container that is immediately sent to Venus where it is expected to rot for a few thousand years until some sentient lifeform opens it and repeats pandora's box!
Where was I....Ummm....Oh yes. So today I was scheduled for a doctor's appointment at 3:45. Now, as many of you know, getting out of school is never easy. But getting out early is apparently even harder. In order to get to my appointment, I need to leave 10 minutes early. So, my mother prepares a nice, legible note complete with full information and confirmation number which I gave to the office this morning. Immediately something was off. Maybe it was the fear in the air. Maybe it was the screams and wails of utter terror coming from the background. Maybe it was the quite shifty look in the office worker's eyes. Or perhaps it was that I received the distinct impression that the woman did not know what she was doing.
Ah, utter cluelessness. The plague of many things, not the least of which is bureaucracy. Now, I'm under the influence of this peculiar defect often, and I must say, it can be rather interesting. It encourages one to run around screaming "DDOOOOOMMMMEEEDDD! WE'RE ALL DOOOOOMMMEEEDDDD!!!" But when it interferes with a job involving complex procedures of filing, dialing, and possibly conversing, it's a whole nother ball game. Suffice it to say, I heard neither hide, hair, or gallbladder of the note the entire day. Now, on the office's credit, my father didn't know I had an appointment today. So if they did in fact call him, he may have thought they were crazy, cursed them to the extent of not only making a sailor blush, but also feel so ashamed and shocked that he fully repented his sins and lived a life of seclusion and personal improvement the rest of his oh so short life, hung up, and subsequently threw a javelin through the chest of the mailroom worker that just happened to be handing him a fresh batch of sticky notes with which he uses to give paper cuts and leave bloody wads of paper stuck all over the door to his boss's office (that's a bit of exaggeration there folks, I'm pretty sure my dad's work doesn't have a mail room). Anywho, while I can give them some credit, it's annoying nonetheless.
And then, of course, there's the doctor's office. I rush over there (I would have actually been on time since Mrs. Sayers let me out 2 minutes early, but I got stuck behind a motionless school bus for 5 minutes and therefore didn't make the cut), and make it 3 minutes late. Then, the waiting starts. It really wasn't that bad, only about 45 minutes and I did have a book, but it is rather strange. Hurrying up to wait happens all the time. One would think there would be a more efficient system, somehow, so that you could actually arrive at a time where you'd be able to actually do whatever you needed to do as soon as you got there. What's that system? I don't know. If I was a tad more alert and wasn't just wasting time before jumping into homework and studying, I might have more profound insight. Instead, you're stuck with "Clean your elbows when you can, because believe me, from years of experience, no one will just do it for you." There.
One other note of minorly insignificant interest is that a genetic disease might be in my future. Apparently I have two or three symptoms of "Marfan's Syndrome." Now, there's a very minute chance that I've actually got it. I think most of them can be related to malnutrition-nutrition, but there you are. I've nothing against genetic diseases as long as they don't hinder my everyday life. However, some nifty power like superspeed, telepathic powers, or even amazing yo-yo skillz would be nice. I can't even do the basics like summoning a minor demon or even creating a small ball of dark matter to hurl at anything that looks at me the right way. Sometimes you just feel jipped by life, eh? Ah well, I guess I'll just need to hang around some radiation for awhile. If I'm lucky, I'll get some nifty ability like "Extreme Hair Growth" or "Really Big Shoes." A guy can dream, can't he? Oh, he can't? Since when? That long? Really? Why didn't anyone tell me? Isn't that your job?! What do you mean I didn't ask and I don't pay you?!?! Who have I been writing that paycheck to all these years then? Satan?! I wouldn't pay that hack anything; he's just a bum asking for handouts. We had a deal? What are you talking about? Oh. That. Are you sure mass memory wipes and time distortion costs that much? Well, I guess that makes sense. Hhmmm. Oh well.
Well, I've wasted just about as much time as I can. I know, I know, it'll be hard to stop reading this tripe. I understand. But if it'll make you feel better, I'll include the word "obstreperous" in today's entry for the word of the day. There. I just did it. Happy? I surely hope so. That's it, for now. Until next time...
On to business. Today, like most other days, was long, tedious, and mostly uneventful. I actually started the morning more energetic than I was by the time first period was halfway over. It's amazing how well hindsight can work sometimes. I think this semester would have been perfect with two minor adjustments. But nnoooo. Such are the failures of foresight. I suppose it keeps things interesting, but that certainly doesn't mean I have to enjoy it. Really, for all my complaints, the only actual burden is stress. It's really strange too, because it's irrational stress. Once you realize the vast majority of things you do will be forgotten eventually, rendering them worthless. My mind accepts it, but my subconscious looks at it, chews it a bit, then spits it out, and places it in a biohazard container that is immediately sent to Venus where it is expected to rot for a few thousand years until some sentient lifeform opens it and repeats pandora's box!
Where was I....Ummm....Oh yes. So today I was scheduled for a doctor's appointment at 3:45. Now, as many of you know, getting out of school is never easy. But getting out early is apparently even harder. In order to get to my appointment, I need to leave 10 minutes early. So, my mother prepares a nice, legible note complete with full information and confirmation number which I gave to the office this morning. Immediately something was off. Maybe it was the fear in the air. Maybe it was the screams and wails of utter terror coming from the background. Maybe it was the quite shifty look in the office worker's eyes. Or perhaps it was that I received the distinct impression that the woman did not know what she was doing.
Ah, utter cluelessness. The plague of many things, not the least of which is bureaucracy. Now, I'm under the influence of this peculiar defect often, and I must say, it can be rather interesting. It encourages one to run around screaming "DDOOOOOMMMMEEEDDD! WE'RE ALL DOOOOOMMMEEEDDDD!!!" But when it interferes with a job involving complex procedures of filing, dialing, and possibly conversing, it's a whole nother ball game. Suffice it to say, I heard neither hide, hair, or gallbladder of the note the entire day. Now, on the office's credit, my father didn't know I had an appointment today. So if they did in fact call him, he may have thought they were crazy, cursed them to the extent of not only making a sailor blush, but also feel so ashamed and shocked that he fully repented his sins and lived a life of seclusion and personal improvement the rest of his oh so short life, hung up, and subsequently threw a javelin through the chest of the mailroom worker that just happened to be handing him a fresh batch of sticky notes with which he uses to give paper cuts and leave bloody wads of paper stuck all over the door to his boss's office (that's a bit of exaggeration there folks, I'm pretty sure my dad's work doesn't have a mail room). Anywho, while I can give them some credit, it's annoying nonetheless.
And then, of course, there's the doctor's office. I rush over there (I would have actually been on time since Mrs. Sayers let me out 2 minutes early, but I got stuck behind a motionless school bus for 5 minutes and therefore didn't make the cut), and make it 3 minutes late. Then, the waiting starts. It really wasn't that bad, only about 45 minutes and I did have a book, but it is rather strange. Hurrying up to wait happens all the time. One would think there would be a more efficient system, somehow, so that you could actually arrive at a time where you'd be able to actually do whatever you needed to do as soon as you got there. What's that system? I don't know. If I was a tad more alert and wasn't just wasting time before jumping into homework and studying, I might have more profound insight. Instead, you're stuck with "Clean your elbows when you can, because believe me, from years of experience, no one will just do it for you." There.
One other note of minorly insignificant interest is that a genetic disease might be in my future. Apparently I have two or three symptoms of "Marfan's Syndrome." Now, there's a very minute chance that I've actually got it. I think most of them can be related to malnutrition-nutrition, but there you are. I've nothing against genetic diseases as long as they don't hinder my everyday life. However, some nifty power like superspeed, telepathic powers, or even amazing yo-yo skillz would be nice. I can't even do the basics like summoning a minor demon or even creating a small ball of dark matter to hurl at anything that looks at me the right way. Sometimes you just feel jipped by life, eh? Ah well, I guess I'll just need to hang around some radiation for awhile. If I'm lucky, I'll get some nifty ability like "Extreme Hair Growth" or "Really Big Shoes." A guy can dream, can't he? Oh, he can't? Since when? That long? Really? Why didn't anyone tell me? Isn't that your job?! What do you mean I didn't ask and I don't pay you?!?! Who have I been writing that paycheck to all these years then? Satan?! I wouldn't pay that hack anything; he's just a bum asking for handouts. We had a deal? What are you talking about? Oh. That. Are you sure mass memory wipes and time distortion costs that much? Well, I guess that makes sense. Hhmmm. Oh well.
Well, I've wasted just about as much time as I can. I know, I know, it'll be hard to stop reading this tripe. I understand. But if it'll make you feel better, I'll include the word "obstreperous" in today's entry for the word of the day. There. I just did it. Happy? I surely hope so. That's it, for now. Until next time...
Monday, January 12
Matters of Fate
The space-time continuum seems to have a new ally in the form of Fate. Of course, this isn't really news, nor is it that surprising, but it is the cause of some concern. It has been brought to my attention (by sources inside my head that I consider minorly trustworthy), that sometimes life seems to takes disturbing patterns. If one looks, it is possible to draw connections that almost seem to surpass coincidence. Perhaps they point to one concrete problem (or positive choice) the individual seems to perpetuate. Or perhaps it is indeed the working of some higher power.
Recently I've noticed one such pattern myself. Now, this creates numorous problems right there. One such problem is the one I discussed a few months ago about the semi-worthlessness of symbolism. If you look hard enough, you can find a connection or deeper meaning in just about anything. In that case it was a tootsie roll and its wrapper symbolizing society and it's burden (yet blessing) upon the individual. The symbolism gets to the point that it actually seems feasible, and perhaps it is. But it could also be just another "Modest Proposal" for eating babies. Who am I to say?
However when one notices an almost clear and distinct representation of Fate, you're left with three options. One is to coast along with it, for good or bad, better or worse. Another is to take the flow of fate and twist it, like diverting the flow of a roaring river, into the void of uncertainty that is unilateral action. The jolt would be like a solidly rhyming poem with the final line not fitting(for those of us rhymically...um...associated) or more of a cataclismic motion, such as forcing a puzzle piece into a place it doesn't fit (oh yes, it can be done!) Of course, it can be argued that the switch too was just a continuance of fate, but by breaking the observed pattern, I think you've taken it into your own hands. And then there's the rational third choice that states the whole thing is just a connection made by the mind that has no real siginificance in life and therefore should be ignored. Or there's combinations of all three.
Of course, your choice would also be siginificantly affected by whether you see this pattern as a positive or negative one. On the one hand, if it's positive you'd want to keep it since it's beneficial; but then you're conforming to Fate. If it's negative, you'd want to change it since it's obviously causing you discomfort; but then you're faced with the unknown and possibility of making matters even worse. And then there's the possibility of it all being a lot of hogwash, but that's no fun is it?
But that basically sums up the situation. Out of curiosity, if you saw a pattern of Fate emerging, would you break it for the sake of breaking it? Or would you go along with what must be your destiny? Or is the fool who came up with this rubbish merely imagining a connection and placing a meaning to it that is ludicrous? Do you follow, lead, or ignore (must like you'll probably ignore post). I'm not quite sure myself. What do you think? (At the moment the comments are down; just wait awhile and they should return.)
Oh the boys at the time-space continuum are going to be angry at me for this! Serves the jerks right though. That'll teach them to limit my methods of warping reality! *maniacal laugh* Until next time...
Recently I've noticed one such pattern myself. Now, this creates numorous problems right there. One such problem is the one I discussed a few months ago about the semi-worthlessness of symbolism. If you look hard enough, you can find a connection or deeper meaning in just about anything. In that case it was a tootsie roll and its wrapper symbolizing society and it's burden (yet blessing) upon the individual. The symbolism gets to the point that it actually seems feasible, and perhaps it is. But it could also be just another "Modest Proposal" for eating babies. Who am I to say?
However when one notices an almost clear and distinct representation of Fate, you're left with three options. One is to coast along with it, for good or bad, better or worse. Another is to take the flow of fate and twist it, like diverting the flow of a roaring river, into the void of uncertainty that is unilateral action. The jolt would be like a solidly rhyming poem with the final line not fitting(for those of us rhymically...um...associated) or more of a cataclismic motion, such as forcing a puzzle piece into a place it doesn't fit (oh yes, it can be done!) Of course, it can be argued that the switch too was just a continuance of fate, but by breaking the observed pattern, I think you've taken it into your own hands. And then there's the rational third choice that states the whole thing is just a connection made by the mind that has no real siginificance in life and therefore should be ignored. Or there's combinations of all three.
Of course, your choice would also be siginificantly affected by whether you see this pattern as a positive or negative one. On the one hand, if it's positive you'd want to keep it since it's beneficial; but then you're conforming to Fate. If it's negative, you'd want to change it since it's obviously causing you discomfort; but then you're faced with the unknown and possibility of making matters even worse. And then there's the possibility of it all being a lot of hogwash, but that's no fun is it?
But that basically sums up the situation. Out of curiosity, if you saw a pattern of Fate emerging, would you break it for the sake of breaking it? Or would you go along with what must be your destiny? Or is the fool who came up with this rubbish merely imagining a connection and placing a meaning to it that is ludicrous? Do you follow, lead, or ignore (must like you'll probably ignore post). I'm not quite sure myself. What do you think? (At the moment the comments are down; just wait awhile and they should return.)
Oh the boys at the time-space continuum are going to be angry at me for this! Serves the jerks right though. That'll teach them to limit my methods of warping reality! *maniacal laugh* Until next time...
Sunday, January 11
Riddle 9
Feared by those who have to know all,
Whether you have it is often your call.
It consists of nothing, yet all of the same,
It creates so much trouble and takes all the blame.
It can also be comforting, it changes the scene,
It warps deformities into objects less mean.
It shields us from the Truth, something both good and bad,
It dulls all of reality, even if just a tad.
It shall catch you eventually, you just can’t elude,
You should just accept it, take a good attitude.
Don’t be afraid of all you don’t know
(Including this riddle, so answer, let’s go!)
*Gasp!* What's this? Why it's another riddle! I thought those were extinct! Well I'll be... Yes, it is indeed, after almost a month long hiatus, another riddle. Hopefully more of you will get it than the last one, but remember, I won't accept your answers until you've answered all the other ones. Now, you could skip all the ones up to this point and just not worry about them, but once I count this answer, I won't count any of the massive backload a few of you have.
I won't bother posting the scores, just add 4points to Derek's for #8 and possibly 2 to Caitlin's, if no one else even tries. The wonderful colors you see are coutresy of Elizabeth E., who is the winner for amount of posts since last time I counted. If you don't like the colors, post more. If you do, then I hope you can bask in their celestial radiance and find true inner peace and happiness. No really, I do. It's true!!!
Anyway, that's all for the moment. I'll probably be going on a board game binge sometime soon, so don't be surprised if I ask a few of you to participate(online). Or better yet, ask me(online, real life, or that creepy third dimension with the constant wailing and the yellow clouded-wallpaper that just won't stop moving!)! Until next time, Answer them riddles!
Whether you have it is often your call.
It consists of nothing, yet all of the same,
It creates so much trouble and takes all the blame.
It can also be comforting, it changes the scene,
It warps deformities into objects less mean.
It shields us from the Truth, something both good and bad,
It dulls all of reality, even if just a tad.
It shall catch you eventually, you just can’t elude,
You should just accept it, take a good attitude.
Don’t be afraid of all you don’t know
(Including this riddle, so answer, let’s go!)
*Gasp!* What's this? Why it's another riddle! I thought those were extinct! Well I'll be... Yes, it is indeed, after almost a month long hiatus, another riddle. Hopefully more of you will get it than the last one, but remember, I won't accept your answers until you've answered all the other ones. Now, you could skip all the ones up to this point and just not worry about them, but once I count this answer, I won't count any of the massive backload a few of you have.
I won't bother posting the scores, just add 4points to Derek's for #8 and possibly 2 to Caitlin's, if no one else even tries. The wonderful colors you see are coutresy of Elizabeth E., who is the winner for amount of posts since last time I counted. If you don't like the colors, post more. If you do, then I hope you can bask in their celestial radiance and find true inner peace and happiness. No really, I do. It's true!!!
Anyway, that's all for the moment. I'll probably be going on a board game binge sometime soon, so don't be surprised if I ask a few of you to participate(online). Or better yet, ask me(online, real life, or that creepy third dimension with the constant wailing and the yellow clouded-wallpaper that just won't stop moving!)! Until next time, Answer them riddles!
The Not so Wild West
Well, today was a different beast than yesterday (although I suppose it's technically yesterday now and the yesterday I'm referring to in the sentence is two days ago, if you're into that chronological correctness thing). Friday, I sat at the computer all day. So today (again, technically yesterday, but it shall henceforth be known as today as the time is just past midnight and periods of wakefulness are more accurate and mentally pleasing than conforming to "The Man's" view of when a day should end and begin!)...ANYWAY, today I thought to myself "Self, this sort of attitude and sedentary lifestyle is not going to in any way help you take over the world! You see, by using the computer I'm placing the burden of entertainment partially on myself. Thus, I feel pressured to find something for me to do. However, there is something very near and dear to your chewed up brain that can make entertainment a matter of merely finding the right buttons to press. No, it's not your computer. Similiar, but less buttons and less often." And By George was I right!
So today I moved the 5seconds from the computer and returned to my room where I watched that master of cinematic repetitive and predicatablecalititude (if it's not a word, we both know it should be!) the Western! Yes, the Western is indeed a strange little thing. Every different version usually has roughly the same storyline, begins, middles, and ends the same way, and often has the same people. Now, it can of course be argued that this is an affliction of praticularly every generality of art, from fantasy to science fiction to romance to, well, anything. When you get down to the bare essentials, most anything follows the same pattern. But that point aside, it was actually rather refreshing! It's almost comforting, that you know good shall triumph over evil, even if it is all fake and mumbo jumbo.
So I watched two Westerns which I personally found entertaining and enjoyable. I followed this by 2hours of Sanford and Son I'd had recorded from awhile ago. But that's not the worst part! So I get to thinking "Gee Dylan, you've got all this time on your hands, why not do your Chemistry homework you were supposed to have done Thursday night!" So I did indeed stop procrastinating and finish something AHEAD of schedule. Now, I'm as shocked as you are, but it still gets worse! So I start my Chemistry and come upon on a shocking revelation. This isn't Chemistry, it's Algebra in disguise! And since I actually find Algebra enjoyable, I enjoyed doing some Chemistry! Now, trust me, this is a pretty big accomplishment. Chemistry is often the lowest of lows one can go in the grand scope of homework, rivaled only by the research paper and perhaps forced artistic projects. Surely I jest, but you get the point nonetheless.
Now, all of this may seem trivially insiginificant to you, but really, it's quite uplifting! I suppose it's because on Saturdays, a downward decent into Television doesn't seem as much like the crippling apathy vortexes that occur on school nights. I think it's because the Saturday version is more of a "Time to relax and let all my pointless burdens slip away. Oh look, a cartoon bunny! Lets all titter madly!" And titter we did. All the way to the bank.
And on that note, I suppose I must bid you adieu. Or perhaps I'll bid you $5. DoIhear6dolladolladolla7!CanIgeta8dolladolla9from the gentelman in the back with the paddle that looks remarkebly like an armed javelin launcher! Anywho, Goodnight, Goodmorning, or GoodWhatevertimeofdayoryesterdayortomorrowthatyou'rereadingthis. Until next time....
So today I moved the 5seconds from the computer and returned to my room where I watched that master of cinematic repetitive and predicatablecalititude (if it's not a word, we both know it should be!) the Western! Yes, the Western is indeed a strange little thing. Every different version usually has roughly the same storyline, begins, middles, and ends the same way, and often has the same people. Now, it can of course be argued that this is an affliction of praticularly every generality of art, from fantasy to science fiction to romance to, well, anything. When you get down to the bare essentials, most anything follows the same pattern. But that point aside, it was actually rather refreshing! It's almost comforting, that you know good shall triumph over evil, even if it is all fake and mumbo jumbo.
So I watched two Westerns which I personally found entertaining and enjoyable. I followed this by 2hours of Sanford and Son I'd had recorded from awhile ago. But that's not the worst part! So I get to thinking "Gee Dylan, you've got all this time on your hands, why not do your Chemistry homework you were supposed to have done Thursday night!" So I did indeed stop procrastinating and finish something AHEAD of schedule. Now, I'm as shocked as you are, but it still gets worse! So I start my Chemistry and come upon on a shocking revelation. This isn't Chemistry, it's Algebra in disguise! And since I actually find Algebra enjoyable, I enjoyed doing some Chemistry! Now, trust me, this is a pretty big accomplishment. Chemistry is often the lowest of lows one can go in the grand scope of homework, rivaled only by the research paper and perhaps forced artistic projects. Surely I jest, but you get the point nonetheless.
Now, all of this may seem trivially insiginificant to you, but really, it's quite uplifting! I suppose it's because on Saturdays, a downward decent into Television doesn't seem as much like the crippling apathy vortexes that occur on school nights. I think it's because the Saturday version is more of a "Time to relax and let all my pointless burdens slip away. Oh look, a cartoon bunny! Lets all titter madly!" And titter we did. All the way to the bank.
And on that note, I suppose I must bid you adieu. Or perhaps I'll bid you $5. DoIhear6dolladolladolla7!CanIgeta8dolladolla9from the gentelman in the back with the paddle that looks remarkebly like an armed javelin launcher! Anywho, Goodnight, Goodmorning, or GoodWhatevertimeofdayoryesterdayortomorrowthatyou'rereadingthis. Until next time....
Friday, January 9
Woe Days
Well, for the first time in recent memory, the weather people predicted snow and it actually came true! Who would have thought that one of these days, a 50% chance of snow might actually produce...SNOW!!! It blows the mind. It's not supposed to snow in the K-town hood. Especially not on 50% chances. But it did, so I, like so many others, stayed at home and basked in the glory that is wasted time.
As a result of poor planning, I ended up doing homework until 1AM last night, and even then I wasn't close to being finished. So, of course, I rationed out my time and went to bed. Then I woke up at 7 to find that, like a powedery cloud, a wave of glorious white stuff had fallen over our fair city. Was I ecstatic? No. Was I glad? No. Was I thrilled to the point of almost spontaneous combustion of the sheer joy of being able to avoid the toil and grind that is our grand public education system? No. No, I merely lay in bed, wondering if there was any reason for me to get out. After an hour or two, I finally got motivated enough to move the small space from my bed to the computer where I have remained to this very point.
Yes, oh cruel cruel irony. The very substance that gives me a day of blessed freedom only serves to block me from escape. Of course, I say that. Really, I wouldn't do anything at all differently if school was called off because wild packs of ferrets had been unleashed upon the surrounding countryside by corrupt businessmen, bent on intimidating the working class into a constant of fear in a desperate attempt to stop the imminent Communist Revolution that will sputter and die in a matter of minutes, but will, in the process, give the CEO a gnarly headache, thus resulting a bad day for everyone and possibly a few public stonings. No, the sad truth is I'm the victim of that oh so popular disease I like to call "Apacrastinothingtodoitis."
In other words, I've got nothing to do anyway. Oh sure, I could do my homework, read a book (or fourty-six), save the world from an invisible virus known only to me and Christopher Reeves (who just so happens to have forgotten the entire incident; believe me, I called), or even go outside and wander aimlessly, starting a gang of wayward youths such as myself, and sending them on a war of epic proportions where the stakes are higher than life and the price of failure is so horrible, I scream in agony even thinking of the first syllable of the sentence meant to describe it! But no. Instead, I sit at the computer, desperately searching for some incentive to do something even remotely productive.
And here we come to the moral of the story. Don't philosophize or try to figure your life out. Really, it sounds like a good idea, and English class makes it seem like such a noble pursuit, but really, it's only a drag. When you figure out what you need to do, how you should get there, how incredibly easy it all is, and the reasons you won't do it, you're really left with nothing at all to do. Sure, you could twiddle your thumbs for the 10 hours a day you're not sleeping, but in the end, it all comes out the same. So what should you do instead? Might I suggest spades, or if the mood suits you, some other board, card, or physical activity that will engage the mind, body, and possibly spleen in some sort of contest that means absolutely nothing in the end, but is fun to do in the process.
That's enough of that icky existentalism and savage board game propaganda. Let's branch over into something much more enjoyable: rhyming. Yes, the matching of two similiar syllables in a rhythmic phrase is indeed a jovial past time. It's especially good if you've nothing to do and want to drive everyone you talk to crazy. Try it sometime. Speak only in rhyme. Don't say anything at all unless it's in a solid rhythm and has a rhyme scheme. It's easier on IMs, but even speaking it is entertaining. So then the next question logically becomes "But Dylan, if pie is squared and round at the same time, how on earth am I expected to get to St. Louis in under an hour flying on top of a giant winged-walrus?" To that, I'll merely say "Look to your left. Now walk three paces due east. Jump up and down twice. Now quack like a dog. There, don't you feel better about sanity now?"
The real next question is "But Dylan, where are all the riddles if you like rhyming so much?" Well anonymous, annoying, pestering voice, I'll tell you where. They're nowhere. It's all part of that motivation bit. What I will tell you is that I will get more up eventually. But first, you've got to answer the past ones! So from this point forward, until you've answered all the ones I've done, you can't answer any future ones. "But Dylan, that's giving an unfair advantage to the all-powerful Derek and his ub3r 1337 (That means uber leet, which is turns means grand elite, which is all part of the d00d language, which only those who have ventured into the dark, endless caverns of online gaming know) knowledge of all that is riddle!" Tough luck! The man knows his words, that's all I can say. You all have things to do. Get crackin'! The story's still there too, so stop your belly-achin!
Oh, and one last thing. If, for whatever reason, you decide to go on a grand adventure of society shaking porportions, with your goal of "Success, Bust, or at least a groovy Bumper Sticker", invite me along. I need to rebel somehow. And frankly, throwing snowballs at pigeons just doesn't cut it. Go figure.
As a result of poor planning, I ended up doing homework until 1AM last night, and even then I wasn't close to being finished. So, of course, I rationed out my time and went to bed. Then I woke up at 7 to find that, like a powedery cloud, a wave of glorious white stuff had fallen over our fair city. Was I ecstatic? No. Was I glad? No. Was I thrilled to the point of almost spontaneous combustion of the sheer joy of being able to avoid the toil and grind that is our grand public education system? No. No, I merely lay in bed, wondering if there was any reason for me to get out. After an hour or two, I finally got motivated enough to move the small space from my bed to the computer where I have remained to this very point.
Yes, oh cruel cruel irony. The very substance that gives me a day of blessed freedom only serves to block me from escape. Of course, I say that. Really, I wouldn't do anything at all differently if school was called off because wild packs of ferrets had been unleashed upon the surrounding countryside by corrupt businessmen, bent on intimidating the working class into a constant of fear in a desperate attempt to stop the imminent Communist Revolution that will sputter and die in a matter of minutes, but will, in the process, give the CEO a gnarly headache, thus resulting a bad day for everyone and possibly a few public stonings. No, the sad truth is I'm the victim of that oh so popular disease I like to call "Apacrastinothingtodoitis."
In other words, I've got nothing to do anyway. Oh sure, I could do my homework, read a book (or fourty-six), save the world from an invisible virus known only to me and Christopher Reeves (who just so happens to have forgotten the entire incident; believe me, I called), or even go outside and wander aimlessly, starting a gang of wayward youths such as myself, and sending them on a war of epic proportions where the stakes are higher than life and the price of failure is so horrible, I scream in agony even thinking of the first syllable of the sentence meant to describe it! But no. Instead, I sit at the computer, desperately searching for some incentive to do something even remotely productive.
And here we come to the moral of the story. Don't philosophize or try to figure your life out. Really, it sounds like a good idea, and English class makes it seem like such a noble pursuit, but really, it's only a drag. When you figure out what you need to do, how you should get there, how incredibly easy it all is, and the reasons you won't do it, you're really left with nothing at all to do. Sure, you could twiddle your thumbs for the 10 hours a day you're not sleeping, but in the end, it all comes out the same. So what should you do instead? Might I suggest spades, or if the mood suits you, some other board, card, or physical activity that will engage the mind, body, and possibly spleen in some sort of contest that means absolutely nothing in the end, but is fun to do in the process.
That's enough of that icky existentalism and savage board game propaganda. Let's branch over into something much more enjoyable: rhyming. Yes, the matching of two similiar syllables in a rhythmic phrase is indeed a jovial past time. It's especially good if you've nothing to do and want to drive everyone you talk to crazy. Try it sometime. Speak only in rhyme. Don't say anything at all unless it's in a solid rhythm and has a rhyme scheme. It's easier on IMs, but even speaking it is entertaining. So then the next question logically becomes "But Dylan, if pie is squared and round at the same time, how on earth am I expected to get to St. Louis in under an hour flying on top of a giant winged-walrus?" To that, I'll merely say "Look to your left. Now walk three paces due east. Jump up and down twice. Now quack like a dog. There, don't you feel better about sanity now?"
The real next question is "But Dylan, where are all the riddles if you like rhyming so much?" Well anonymous, annoying, pestering voice, I'll tell you where. They're nowhere. It's all part of that motivation bit. What I will tell you is that I will get more up eventually. But first, you've got to answer the past ones! So from this point forward, until you've answered all the ones I've done, you can't answer any future ones. "But Dylan, that's giving an unfair advantage to the all-powerful Derek and his ub3r 1337 (That means uber leet, which is turns means grand elite, which is all part of the d00d language, which only those who have ventured into the dark, endless caverns of online gaming know) knowledge of all that is riddle!" Tough luck! The man knows his words, that's all I can say. You all have things to do. Get crackin'! The story's still there too, so stop your belly-achin!
Oh, and one last thing. If, for whatever reason, you decide to go on a grand adventure of society shaking porportions, with your goal of "Success, Bust, or at least a groovy Bumper Sticker", invite me along. I need to rebel somehow. And frankly, throwing snowballs at pigeons just doesn't cut it. Go figure.
Monday, January 5
Gettin' Back Where I Belong
Well, it has indeed been awhile. So, to fill ye of little info in, I'll write another unnecessarily long, boring, possibly hyperbolated, rambling, possibly rhyming, novel about the past week. I'll write a summary at the end (if I remember) for those who don't want to waste too much time. (It should be noted, however, that if you do skip the reading, you will need to be flogged, lynched, and or run over by a stampede or asparagus craving caterpillars.)
Well, you’ve probably read my infuriatingly tedious and long account of my ice adventure. Logic would say that if I can conquer roads coated with ice and stopping on a hill in a manual car, I can drive most anywhere that’s feasible. Well, logic and fate apparently conspired a bit over this break to trick me and lull me into a false sense of security. How can abstract ideas devise methods of torment for someone like myself who has no reason to care? I don’t know. If you find out and would like to rebel against some of the foundations of human existence, please let me know. I need to get out of the house and have more violent insurrections more often.
Anyway, getting back to a summary of my break… I made it a resolution to get away from this infernal contraption I like to call the “computer.” So I decided I’d get away through any means necessary, even if that meant going outside and finding bored souls in which I could engage in a match of fate and wit. In other words, I played bored/card games. However, the “Powers that Am” decided I was getting too uppity. So on Christmas Eve, as I was on my way home listening to Beethoven’s 5th, I just happened to go down a hill with a slight curve and all of a sudden I lost control and BAM! I ran straight into a tree. I’m still not quite sure what happened, I can only assume that time rippled a bit and as an alternate plane of reality shifted slightly with our own, the road changed a bit, and I had no alternative but to slam into a tree. Or I could have gone slightly off the road on some slick grass and just slipped. Either one is perfectly feasible.
If you’ve never totaled a car or done something of such magnitude that the only feeling you suffer are disbelief and an overall feeling of dread, might I suggest that you take your car and drive off a cliff, jumping out right before it goes over, for no apparent reason. Then explain your rationale and deal with all the subsequent consequences including, but not limited to, incapacitating injuries, public property damage, outstanding warrants for your arrest, the hostages that were in the trunk, rifts in the space-time continuum, forces of unspeakable evil you’ve unleashed and must now destroy or capture again in an apocalyptic struggle the likes of which the earth will never seen again (likely because it will be destroyed in the process), and, of course, finding another car. Of the above, I’ve only had to deal with two, and boy was that apocalyptic struggle fun!
But that’s neither here, there, nor slightly to your left. Suffice it to say, my car was dead. I hit the tree dead on, and my poor Beretta was quite a mess. I’m fairly stoic about most everything, but even I was disappointed about the loss of the “Dyl Mobile”. I’d kind of grown attached to it, with its manual-ness, two doors, and general state of atrophy. But it was beyond repair.
At the time, I felt relatively fine, physically speaking. My knee appeared to have some sort of grease stains (which later turned out to be blood from where it had hit the car when I tried to slam on the breaks), and I had a slight pain in my chest. Mainly a sense of doom and destruction was prevalent, more so than usual at any rate. Someone called the police, who promptly showed up and ran the normal procedure for accidents. They went ahead and called an ambulance, as a matter of standard procedure. My father arrived soon, followed by the ambulance paramedic-ish people who made some jokes at my expense and pronounced me fine, but said it was probably wise to go to the ER.
I made it home, my primary concern my knee which, while not incredibly painful, was to be considered unreliable and therefore it was no longer privy to confidential information and was kept under armed guards at all time. Then we headed over to Children’s, my slightly jarred body in tow. When I arrived and had to put on a hospital gown (an annoying practice, leaving one feeling exposed and just a bit drafty), I was able to survey the damage. My knee was so swollen that when I compared it to the other, I thought “Gee, I wonder why I can only see the bone on one.” (Not the actual bone, but the other was so swollen it was almost perfectly round). I then received the first set of what would be many x-rays and was sent on my oh so merry way home. (Now forgive me as I briefly diverge into a rhyming parody).
Twas the night before Christmas, and I was in bed
I was quite shaken up, my poor car was dead.
My socks had been taken off with great care,
(Of course it had to be that accursed new pair!)
I was ready to sleep, it had been a bad day
I couldn’t wait for dreams to come my way.
But sleep did not come easily, I ran out of breath,
But I attributed it to too much crystal meth.
I awoke the next morning to such a clatter,
Apparently with my x-ray something was the matter!
The radiologist, it seemed, last night did review,
And apparently he’d seen something new.
My lung was in trouble, a bit collapsed if you will,
And this sort of thing you can’t solve with a pill.
So with a groan I arose with no joy,
For Christmas I got a chest tube instead of a toy!
I had no reindeer, not even a sleigh
But still we sped off on that Christmas Day
As my mother drove away, I cried in our wake
”Geez, this is Christmas, can’t I at least catch a break!?”
So we headed to UT where I was put it in another blasted gown and I received a few more x-rays (unfortunately, I didn’t get any mutations; superpowers would have been a great turn around of events). I was feeling fine all the time, wondering what the point of coming to the hospital was when you felt as if you could do a somersault with one hand tied behind your back while riding a raging wombat in a pouring thunderstorm of slightly acidic rain. I may exaggerate a bit, but I still didn’t feel like I should be there.
But I was still instructed to remain in the hospital for at least a day. So we saddled up (or I got pushed on a wheelchair) into the Pediatrics area. Apparently you should aim for the children’s section of the hospital as long as you can. The staff apparently gets a tad surly and irritated in the sections for people above the magical age of 18, so to the puppy dog and kitty cat painted hallways I went. All in all I was rather annoyed at the whole process. I was still feeling fine, with no motivation to remain. Every action the hospital staff took I could assume was padding the bill or useless bureaucracy. It’s rough being a miserly scrooge, believe you me.
Well the problem did not correct itself overnight, so the doctors’ only option was to stick 13 inches of a garden hose sized tube into my chest to suck out the air in the affected area. This device, dubbed a “chest tube” was very uncomfortable. I was limited in virtually everything I could do. Not only that, but I was also forced to seek out painkillers, since having a tube in your chest is apparently a bit more than one’s body can dub normal. I spend the first day and a half with the tube throwing up whatever I ate and being in a general state of misery, as some painkillers have an adverse effect upon my system. Drugs will do that to you, I suppose. I thought morphine was my friend too, go figure… But I finally found one that my system agreed with and I was able to relax into drugged highs that, while I was not out of control or goofy (that I know of), I was at least at peace with the world (which is quite a foreign concept for me).
Thus it was that after 5 days, total, (2 and ½ with the tube) I was released. I’ll spare you the particularly gruesome details. Suffice it to that overall, the entire situation could have been quite a bit worse. My car could have shattered into thousands of pieces in one way or another (which my Dad apparently became quite concerned about after closer inspection of the wreck). I could have hit someone else. The police and hospital staff could have been cruel, heartless, or at the very least tried to steal my lunch money (I was quite surprised and encouraged, in fact; out of all the people I met, besides some needlessly talkative ones and the accursed paramedics, everyone was nice and friendly). I could have felt absolutely tormented and miserable, but other than quite annoyed and the tube in my chest, I felt relatively well.
And I’d also like to give a great big “Thanks!!!!” to everyone who stopped by. Kelly and Rachel actually came every single day, which was quite a change of the dreary and boring pace set in a hospital and I was quite grateful. Thanks also to everyone else, including but not limited to Morgan, Catherine, Amy, Seth, Sara, and Elizabeth for stopping by at least once. Even if I seemed crazy, contrary, spiteful, depressed, or whatever I did appreciate it (as is true whenever I seem the above ways) and enjoyed you guys stopping by and helping me not feel like such a shut in.
So that was the highlight of my break. Of course, I did catch a cold for a fitting end to my long, two-week adventure, but as school returns I'm almost fully recovered from everything and I'm ready to begin another long, hard slog. I made a New Years resolution to get out of the house more and away from this infernal contraption, and by George I certainly want to keep it! Now, all that may entail is walking around aimlessly in not-so-foreign parts of the country or my mind, but anyone’s welcome to join if they so desire. I also want to play even more board games than I do now, so there’s another method to get away. Hopeless dreams or actualities? I think you know the answer, but don’t tell me, I might remember too!
So until next time (which should be sooner than later), enjoy whatever you’re doing and watch out for that Tree!
(As far as riddles are concerned, I should be posting one relatively soon. Derek is the only one who got it right, out of the two people who answered, so you still have something to think on. The new color scheme is for the onset of the semester of DOOM, but I’ll get the posting contest working again too. The story’s still there, don’t let Inco die!)
Well, you’ve probably read my infuriatingly tedious and long account of my ice adventure. Logic would say that if I can conquer roads coated with ice and stopping on a hill in a manual car, I can drive most anywhere that’s feasible. Well, logic and fate apparently conspired a bit over this break to trick me and lull me into a false sense of security. How can abstract ideas devise methods of torment for someone like myself who has no reason to care? I don’t know. If you find out and would like to rebel against some of the foundations of human existence, please let me know. I need to get out of the house and have more violent insurrections more often.
Anyway, getting back to a summary of my break… I made it a resolution to get away from this infernal contraption I like to call the “computer.” So I decided I’d get away through any means necessary, even if that meant going outside and finding bored souls in which I could engage in a match of fate and wit. In other words, I played bored/card games. However, the “Powers that Am” decided I was getting too uppity. So on Christmas Eve, as I was on my way home listening to Beethoven’s 5th, I just happened to go down a hill with a slight curve and all of a sudden I lost control and BAM! I ran straight into a tree. I’m still not quite sure what happened, I can only assume that time rippled a bit and as an alternate plane of reality shifted slightly with our own, the road changed a bit, and I had no alternative but to slam into a tree. Or I could have gone slightly off the road on some slick grass and just slipped. Either one is perfectly feasible.
If you’ve never totaled a car or done something of such magnitude that the only feeling you suffer are disbelief and an overall feeling of dread, might I suggest that you take your car and drive off a cliff, jumping out right before it goes over, for no apparent reason. Then explain your rationale and deal with all the subsequent consequences including, but not limited to, incapacitating injuries, public property damage, outstanding warrants for your arrest, the hostages that were in the trunk, rifts in the space-time continuum, forces of unspeakable evil you’ve unleashed and must now destroy or capture again in an apocalyptic struggle the likes of which the earth will never seen again (likely because it will be destroyed in the process), and, of course, finding another car. Of the above, I’ve only had to deal with two, and boy was that apocalyptic struggle fun!
But that’s neither here, there, nor slightly to your left. Suffice it to say, my car was dead. I hit the tree dead on, and my poor Beretta was quite a mess. I’m fairly stoic about most everything, but even I was disappointed about the loss of the “Dyl Mobile”. I’d kind of grown attached to it, with its manual-ness, two doors, and general state of atrophy. But it was beyond repair.
At the time, I felt relatively fine, physically speaking. My knee appeared to have some sort of grease stains (which later turned out to be blood from where it had hit the car when I tried to slam on the breaks), and I had a slight pain in my chest. Mainly a sense of doom and destruction was prevalent, more so than usual at any rate. Someone called the police, who promptly showed up and ran the normal procedure for accidents. They went ahead and called an ambulance, as a matter of standard procedure. My father arrived soon, followed by the ambulance paramedic-ish people who made some jokes at my expense and pronounced me fine, but said it was probably wise to go to the ER.
I made it home, my primary concern my knee which, while not incredibly painful, was to be considered unreliable and therefore it was no longer privy to confidential information and was kept under armed guards at all time. Then we headed over to Children’s, my slightly jarred body in tow. When I arrived and had to put on a hospital gown (an annoying practice, leaving one feeling exposed and just a bit drafty), I was able to survey the damage. My knee was so swollen that when I compared it to the other, I thought “Gee, I wonder why I can only see the bone on one.” (Not the actual bone, but the other was so swollen it was almost perfectly round). I then received the first set of what would be many x-rays and was sent on my oh so merry way home. (Now forgive me as I briefly diverge into a rhyming parody).
Twas the night before Christmas, and I was in bed
I was quite shaken up, my poor car was dead.
My socks had been taken off with great care,
(Of course it had to be that accursed new pair!)
I was ready to sleep, it had been a bad day
I couldn’t wait for dreams to come my way.
But sleep did not come easily, I ran out of breath,
But I attributed it to too much crystal meth.
I awoke the next morning to such a clatter,
Apparently with my x-ray something was the matter!
The radiologist, it seemed, last night did review,
And apparently he’d seen something new.
My lung was in trouble, a bit collapsed if you will,
And this sort of thing you can’t solve with a pill.
So with a groan I arose with no joy,
For Christmas I got a chest tube instead of a toy!
I had no reindeer, not even a sleigh
But still we sped off on that Christmas Day
As my mother drove away, I cried in our wake
”Geez, this is Christmas, can’t I at least catch a break!?”
So we headed to UT where I was put it in another blasted gown and I received a few more x-rays (unfortunately, I didn’t get any mutations; superpowers would have been a great turn around of events). I was feeling fine all the time, wondering what the point of coming to the hospital was when you felt as if you could do a somersault with one hand tied behind your back while riding a raging wombat in a pouring thunderstorm of slightly acidic rain. I may exaggerate a bit, but I still didn’t feel like I should be there.
But I was still instructed to remain in the hospital for at least a day. So we saddled up (or I got pushed on a wheelchair) into the Pediatrics area. Apparently you should aim for the children’s section of the hospital as long as you can. The staff apparently gets a tad surly and irritated in the sections for people above the magical age of 18, so to the puppy dog and kitty cat painted hallways I went. All in all I was rather annoyed at the whole process. I was still feeling fine, with no motivation to remain. Every action the hospital staff took I could assume was padding the bill or useless bureaucracy. It’s rough being a miserly scrooge, believe you me.
Well the problem did not correct itself overnight, so the doctors’ only option was to stick 13 inches of a garden hose sized tube into my chest to suck out the air in the affected area. This device, dubbed a “chest tube” was very uncomfortable. I was limited in virtually everything I could do. Not only that, but I was also forced to seek out painkillers, since having a tube in your chest is apparently a bit more than one’s body can dub normal. I spend the first day and a half with the tube throwing up whatever I ate and being in a general state of misery, as some painkillers have an adverse effect upon my system. Drugs will do that to you, I suppose. I thought morphine was my friend too, go figure… But I finally found one that my system agreed with and I was able to relax into drugged highs that, while I was not out of control or goofy (that I know of), I was at least at peace with the world (which is quite a foreign concept for me).
Thus it was that after 5 days, total, (2 and ½ with the tube) I was released. I’ll spare you the particularly gruesome details. Suffice it to that overall, the entire situation could have been quite a bit worse. My car could have shattered into thousands of pieces in one way or another (which my Dad apparently became quite concerned about after closer inspection of the wreck). I could have hit someone else. The police and hospital staff could have been cruel, heartless, or at the very least tried to steal my lunch money (I was quite surprised and encouraged, in fact; out of all the people I met, besides some needlessly talkative ones and the accursed paramedics, everyone was nice and friendly). I could have felt absolutely tormented and miserable, but other than quite annoyed and the tube in my chest, I felt relatively well.
And I’d also like to give a great big “Thanks!!!!” to everyone who stopped by. Kelly and Rachel actually came every single day, which was quite a change of the dreary and boring pace set in a hospital and I was quite grateful. Thanks also to everyone else, including but not limited to Morgan, Catherine, Amy, Seth, Sara, and Elizabeth for stopping by at least once. Even if I seemed crazy, contrary, spiteful, depressed, or whatever I did appreciate it (as is true whenever I seem the above ways) and enjoyed you guys stopping by and helping me not feel like such a shut in.
So that was the highlight of my break. Of course, I did catch a cold for a fitting end to my long, two-week adventure, but as school returns I'm almost fully recovered from everything and I'm ready to begin another long, hard slog. I made a New Years resolution to get out of the house more and away from this infernal contraption, and by George I certainly want to keep it! Now, all that may entail is walking around aimlessly in not-so-foreign parts of the country or my mind, but anyone’s welcome to join if they so desire. I also want to play even more board games than I do now, so there’s another method to get away. Hopeless dreams or actualities? I think you know the answer, but don’t tell me, I might remember too!
So until next time (which should be sooner than later), enjoy whatever you’re doing and watch out for that Tree!
(As far as riddles are concerned, I should be posting one relatively soon. Derek is the only one who got it right, out of the two people who answered, so you still have something to think on. The new color scheme is for the onset of the semester of DOOM, but I’ll get the posting contest working again too. The story’s still there, don’t let Inco die!)
Thursday, January 1
Another Year, Another Number
Well, Happy New Years. I thought I'd better make a post so that you would know that I am, in fact, not dead. I'll be writing up the story of my entire holiday "adventure" soon, but it shall be quite an endeavor, so it may be awhile. Until then, be safe, be happy, and avoid any hobos with tuberculosis who just want you to make sure they don't have any broccoli in their teeth.