So I know that I haven't posted much lately. Life has been hectic. Red Death is at Army Basic training at the moment and it's tough not having him around. It's weird, but when you hang out with someone so much you just can't enjoy the things you did with them. We used to watch TV shows just to make fun of the actors, go to metal concerts together, and generally get ourselves into a lot of trouble. Now that he's gone I realize how much I miss him. Rumor has it that his unit will be shipping to Iraq after they complete their AIT. (Army Individual Training). I'm not a very religious person, but I pray for his safety.
Godspeed Red Death.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Monday, November 12, 2007
Insecurities, Braggin Rights, and everything in between
So in these past couple of days I find myself seeing myself in a whole new way. No longer the rose colored glasses, when I look in the mirror I see only the imperfections, I see only the ugly, and I wonder: Why is that? I used to see the beauty in myself, and I am talking physically here, not metaphorically people. I was never really overly vain, but I knew I was beautiful when I looked in the mirror. I know now that I am beautiful, but it's beauty tainted by my own lack of motivation. Where did my motivation to keep myself in shape go? When did I stop caring about my body? What does that reflect on my social and intellectual and emotional life? All these questions are playing dodge-ball brain, and I have no answers for when. But I do know what I am going to do about it. Starting at 7am Tuesday morning ( Novemebr 13th) I am cutting out all soda. No more of that, and cutting myself down to one candy bar a week. Period, and also, no food after 9pm. These will be big adjustments for me, as I've never really had to watch my diet before, but I believe firmly that it will be worth it.
The next thing is starting on Monday (novemeber 19th) I will begin doing an excerise program that my brother is going to design for me,. I'm tired of feeling fat and flabby, I want my body back, so I am tacking it back. No more does it get to run amok with me.
The other question playing around with me is this: Can you really miss someone you've never met? Never even talked to on the phone? Can a person who only exists in the typed and written word really have such a huge impact on the way you think, feel, and view things? How is it that someone who could be nothing but a liar can bring about such a shocking change? Is it even a real change? If it is, then how can something so profoundly good come from something that I have looked down on, and heard so many bad things about? What is that about?
These I have no answers too, and I think that is ok. Maybe the answers are not in the answers, but in the experiences. And maybe it's the suddenness of it all that has spurred me into finally taking action about the declining state of my physical health. Who knows.
All I know is that when something affects change for the good, it cannot truly be bad, and that not all opinions have to be set in stone, the beauty of a good opinion is that it is ever open to the possibility of fallacy, and is willing to make the proper changes.
The next thing is starting on Monday (novemeber 19th) I will begin doing an excerise program that my brother is going to design for me,. I'm tired of feeling fat and flabby, I want my body back, so I am tacking it back. No more does it get to run amok with me.
The other question playing around with me is this: Can you really miss someone you've never met? Never even talked to on the phone? Can a person who only exists in the typed and written word really have such a huge impact on the way you think, feel, and view things? How is it that someone who could be nothing but a liar can bring about such a shocking change? Is it even a real change? If it is, then how can something so profoundly good come from something that I have looked down on, and heard so many bad things about? What is that about?
These I have no answers too, and I think that is ok. Maybe the answers are not in the answers, but in the experiences. And maybe it's the suddenness of it all that has spurred me into finally taking action about the declining state of my physical health. Who knows.
All I know is that when something affects change for the good, it cannot truly be bad, and that not all opinions have to be set in stone, the beauty of a good opinion is that it is ever open to the possibility of fallacy, and is willing to make the proper changes.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Let's Talk PC
Yesterday in Psych, we started talking about PC (not personal computer: Political Correctness). The debate was whether or not being PC was a good thing, and was it a form of critical thinking. I would like to start out by saying in advance that I was just sure that my Professor would argue for PC, but I was wrong. First he asked me to define PC;
PC is the acceptable form of unoffensive terminology in society.
That is the general definition. He agreed, and we went on, by the end of his debating and asking questions he had made his point. He agreed with me that PC was totally crap, but he also pointed out just how dangerous it was. It was a new way of thinking for most people in the classroom to realize that your common sense and ability to logic can be overpowered by someones else's will to have things be the way they want.
For example: Just because things should be equal for men and women does not mean that they are. To use my teachers example, just because a man chooses to do his 3 mile run between the hours of midnight and three a.m. does not make it a good idea, it does not mean that woman can't run at that time, however history shows that if a woman were to go running at that time, she much more likely to be attacked and raped, or killed than a man is. SO logically it would be a bad idea for her to go running in the early hours of the day or the late hours of the night ( however you view that time slot). But the PC people will say that it should make no difference, and therefore it makes no difference if you are a man or a woman, and that the woman should also go running, just to prove that point. The fact that she will most likely be accosted in one way or another does not matter, because she should be able to run since that is fair. Well life isn't fair, and yes that is a rather extreme example but it doesn't change the fact that PC denies the fact that life isn't fair. Making it dangerous.
Here's another point: PC is supposed to be unoffensive, so I ran a poll. Yesterday we learned what the PC terms "Wife" and "Pregnancy" are. Since those two words are obviously offensive, I asked pregnant women, married women, gay women, strait women, women who had never had children, and women who had kids but weren't pregnant at the time, divorced women, and single women, and women who were going through divorce ( a total of 50) how they would preferred to be addressed. Which way is more offensive
Wife/ x-wife(normal)
Domestically incarcerated?Domestic Incarceration Survivor (PC term)
100% said they preferred the term wife or x-wife
Pregnant(normal)
Parasitically Oppressed (PC)
100% chose pregnant
All 50 women showed signs pf outrage when the PC term was presented to them, and well let's just say calling children a parasite is a really dangerous thing and will most likely cause you physical harm.
IF PC is supposed to be unoffensive: they failed. Giving in to extreme feminist and letting people be stupid but calling it "cerebraly challenged", doesn't make someone less stupid. Telling a child they "achieved a deficiency" doesn't change the fact that they failed at something.
We need to be teaching people how to strengthen themselves not making excuses for things and leaving people the state that they are in already. People need to learn, people learn through trial and error, or through failure, these are important lessons in life and the PC age is wrong. Period.
Political Correctness has definitely Achieved a Deficiency in making sense, but that's OK, because they can always just say they are "Cerebraly Challenged"
PC is the acceptable form of unoffensive terminology in society.
That is the general definition. He agreed, and we went on, by the end of his debating and asking questions he had made his point. He agreed with me that PC was totally crap, but he also pointed out just how dangerous it was. It was a new way of thinking for most people in the classroom to realize that your common sense and ability to logic can be overpowered by someones else's will to have things be the way they want.
For example: Just because things should be equal for men and women does not mean that they are. To use my teachers example, just because a man chooses to do his 3 mile run between the hours of midnight and three a.m. does not make it a good idea, it does not mean that woman can't run at that time, however history shows that if a woman were to go running at that time, she much more likely to be attacked and raped, or killed than a man is. SO logically it would be a bad idea for her to go running in the early hours of the day or the late hours of the night ( however you view that time slot). But the PC people will say that it should make no difference, and therefore it makes no difference if you are a man or a woman, and that the woman should also go running, just to prove that point. The fact that she will most likely be accosted in one way or another does not matter, because she should be able to run since that is fair. Well life isn't fair, and yes that is a rather extreme example but it doesn't change the fact that PC denies the fact that life isn't fair. Making it dangerous.
Here's another point: PC is supposed to be unoffensive, so I ran a poll. Yesterday we learned what the PC terms "Wife" and "Pregnancy" are. Since those two words are obviously offensive, I asked pregnant women, married women, gay women, strait women, women who had never had children, and women who had kids but weren't pregnant at the time, divorced women, and single women, and women who were going through divorce ( a total of 50) how they would preferred to be addressed. Which way is more offensive
Wife/ x-wife(normal)
Domestically incarcerated?Domestic Incarceration Survivor (PC term)
100% said they preferred the term wife or x-wife
Pregnant(normal)
Parasitically Oppressed (PC)
100% chose pregnant
All 50 women showed signs pf outrage when the PC term was presented to them, and well let's just say calling children a parasite is a really dangerous thing and will most likely cause you physical harm.
IF PC is supposed to be unoffensive: they failed. Giving in to extreme feminist and letting people be stupid but calling it "cerebraly challenged", doesn't make someone less stupid. Telling a child they "achieved a deficiency" doesn't change the fact that they failed at something.
We need to be teaching people how to strengthen themselves not making excuses for things and leaving people the state that they are in already. People need to learn, people learn through trial and error, or through failure, these are important lessons in life and the PC age is wrong. Period.
Political Correctness has definitely Achieved a Deficiency in making sense, but that's OK, because they can always just say they are "Cerebraly Challenged"
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Lying to ourselves
Why do we humans lie, and more importantly, why do we lie to ourselves. This is the subject that has been bouncing around my skull all day while I go about my routine. I'm curious about people by nature. I like to learn their dreams and goals, I like to learn about them as a person. But the more I learn, the more I see a disturbing trend. They don't truly believe what they're telling me. Many times I have learned about someone only to see that what they want is right in front of them, but they won't take it. There's always reasons, some of them may seem logical to them. But if they would just stop and take the time to think about it, really think about it, they would see how their internalized rules and conditions that they impose on themselves prevent them from obtaining it. I think that's the main problem, people simply just don't stop and think. They don't spend any time simply allowing their brain to work without forcing it in one direction or the other. I have gotten into the habit of taking 30 minutes out of each day and just allowing my brain to work. No distractions. No music, no movies, and nobody around. Just simple peaceful quiet. The trick is that you can't force yourself to think in a certain direction, your brain is a marvel and it is more than capable of sorting your various thoughts and ideas into implementable actions. It cuts through the haze of everyday life like a knife. You will figure things out going on in your life or in others life and never know how you did it.
There's a series of articles on Sirlin.net called "Playing to Win". The series is a fascinating read, but I'm going to talk about one section called "Introducing...the Scrub" (http://www.sirlin.net/ptw/intermediates-guide/introducing-the-scrub/). I realize it's talking about game play, but it can also apply to real life. Sirlin describes a Scrub as someone who has built up a set of internalized rules on how they play. This of course prevents them from winning against higher level opponents because they refuse to use tactics that they have arbitrarily defined as "cheap". He doesn't really play to win because he has decided that these rules, which are not defined by the game he is playing, is the true way to play. Think about how that applies to your life. Do you have internalized rules about things you will or will not do in your career, love life, or home life? Do you have some rule that if your boss is an asshole on a paticular day that you're not going to work very well for him? Do you even know if you have it, or is it just automatic and you never really thought about it? Do you have set rules about who you will date and who you will not? What if you are a perfect personality match, get along great, and share many of the same ideas but she isn't perfect looking? Or will you not date them because you're too good of friends? What about your home life? Are there set boundaries on the things you can and cannot talk about with your family? Why? Families should be able to talk about anything, no matter how embarrassing the subject is to one party or the other. But we don't, even though we tell ourselves that's what families are for.
So the moral of this whole rant is, don't let your internalized regulations get in the way of something you truly want. If you stare at the few ugly trees long enough, you'll miss the beautiful forest that you could be living in.
There's a series of articles on Sirlin.net called "Playing to Win". The series is a fascinating read, but I'm going to talk about one section called "Introducing...the Scrub" (http://www.sirlin.net/ptw/intermediates-guide/introducing-the-scrub/). I realize it's talking about game play, but it can also apply to real life. Sirlin describes a Scrub as someone who has built up a set of internalized rules on how they play. This of course prevents them from winning against higher level opponents because they refuse to use tactics that they have arbitrarily defined as "cheap". He doesn't really play to win because he has decided that these rules, which are not defined by the game he is playing, is the true way to play. Think about how that applies to your life. Do you have internalized rules about things you will or will not do in your career, love life, or home life? Do you have some rule that if your boss is an asshole on a paticular day that you're not going to work very well for him? Do you even know if you have it, or is it just automatic and you never really thought about it? Do you have set rules about who you will date and who you will not? What if you are a perfect personality match, get along great, and share many of the same ideas but she isn't perfect looking? Or will you not date them because you're too good of friends? What about your home life? Are there set boundaries on the things you can and cannot talk about with your family? Why? Families should be able to talk about anything, no matter how embarrassing the subject is to one party or the other. But we don't, even though we tell ourselves that's what families are for.
So the moral of this whole rant is, don't let your internalized regulations get in the way of something you truly want. If you stare at the few ugly trees long enough, you'll miss the beautiful forest that you could be living in.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
PA Quotes
ME: People are like sheep
Si: Yeah, except you, you're like that black sheep
ME: Yeah, I don't baa, I BaH.
----------
ME: Dude, there are way too many kids.
Si: I love kids, you know in that dismissive, here you can have it back kinda of way....
ME: Yeah, me too, I love kids, you know, the same way I love malaria
----------
Bekah: It looks like it's crying
ME: yah, like black tears of emo
Bekah: yeah, except purple, and grape flavored..
Both: dude, what if emo kids tears were grape flavored....
---------------------
Si: Yeah, except you, you're like that black sheep
ME: Yeah, I don't baa, I BaH.
----------
ME: Dude, there are way too many kids.
Si: I love kids, you know in that dismissive, here you can have it back kinda of way....
ME: Yeah, me too, I love kids, you know, the same way I love malaria
----------
Bekah: It looks like it's crying
ME: yah, like black tears of emo
Bekah: yeah, except purple, and grape flavored..
Both: dude, what if emo kids tears were grape flavored....
---------------------
Friday, August 24, 2007
Random conversation
*my friend looks at strange girl in his house bewildered*
"Why are you in my house?"
*Looks down, thinks, then looks back up*
"And why arent you naked."
This lead to a conversation about rules for people in the house during parties. Yes this is very sexist, but it was funny at the time to come up with this stuff. No I am not actually going to make these real rules.
Rule #1
Clothing optional, but maditory for package holders.
Rule #1
All bras are to be left at the door with the nearest male doorkeeper.
Rule #1
It is maditory to have a pint of water on your shirt before walking up the stairs.
Rule #1
Party foul violations result in the chugging of the rest of the beverage and the removal of a piece of clothing. If there is nothing left in the beverage, then the violator must chug a new one. Boxers do not count as clothing for the purposes of this rule. And if your wearing tighty whities, you will be booted from the premises.
Rule #1
Anything said or done while intoxicated is not subject to usage in later arguments. Damage to the premises is immune to this rule. It will be paid in cash, beer, or blood. The amount of blood is subject to interpretation by the owner.
Rule #1
"She was Hot" is a valid excuse
Rule #1
Asshole will be required to commit required actions.
Rule #1
A threesome with your girlfriend and that hot chick over there is an undeniable request for the girlfriend when occupying said premises.
Rule #1
If the asked person is already standing, the request "get me another beer" is required to be carried out.
Rule #1
When a burn has been issues with the phrase, You can suck my cock, apropriately, all female persona involved must indeed, suck the cock. And the right to remove teeth if needed is reserved
Rule #1
The music is never too loud
"Why are you in my house?"
*Looks down, thinks, then looks back up*
"And why arent you naked."
This lead to a conversation about rules for people in the house during parties. Yes this is very sexist, but it was funny at the time to come up with this stuff. No I am not actually going to make these real rules.
Rule #1
Clothing optional, but maditory for package holders.
Rule #1
All bras are to be left at the door with the nearest male doorkeeper.
Rule #1
It is maditory to have a pint of water on your shirt before walking up the stairs.
Rule #1
Party foul violations result in the chugging of the rest of the beverage and the removal of a piece of clothing. If there is nothing left in the beverage, then the violator must chug a new one. Boxers do not count as clothing for the purposes of this rule. And if your wearing tighty whities, you will be booted from the premises.
Rule #1
Anything said or done while intoxicated is not subject to usage in later arguments. Damage to the premises is immune to this rule. It will be paid in cash, beer, or blood. The amount of blood is subject to interpretation by the owner.
Rule #1
"She was Hot" is a valid excuse
Rule #1
Asshole will be required to commit required actions.
Rule #1
A threesome with your girlfriend and that hot chick over there is an undeniable request for the girlfriend when occupying said premises.
Rule #1
If the asked person is already standing, the request "get me another beer" is required to be carried out.
Rule #1
When a burn has been issues with the phrase, You can suck my cock, apropriately, all female persona involved must indeed, suck the cock. And the right to remove teeth if needed is reserved
Rule #1
The music is never too loud
The antics of a roleplayer
In the words of a friend of mine.
"So I was at the Wizards of the Coast web site one day, and they had just released the Monster Manual 4, and they had a whole section of information on it and it got me all psyced up for D&D. They also had information on the new and upcoming books for the current edition. So the next day I was on the site to see whats new and the web site had completely changed. And the hedding was, version 4. Those fucking nazi's. They get me all psyced for new shit for 3.5 and the next day they say, oh by the way, this shit will be USELESS in 9 months. Thank you for your money, now spend more on this new edition."
I just sat there and laughed. Then I thought. Damnit, my World of Warcraft books are all 3.5.
Fuck this, Im moving to something like World of Darkness or Shadowrun.
Rule #0 for wizards of the coast products
We will try our best to make every rule completely useless with a new rule.
Dont you love geekiness. Its such a hard life.
"So I was at the Wizards of the Coast web site one day, and they had just released the Monster Manual 4, and they had a whole section of information on it and it got me all psyced up for D&D. They also had information on the new and upcoming books for the current edition. So the next day I was on the site to see whats new and the web site had completely changed. And the hedding was, version 4. Those fucking nazi's. They get me all psyced for new shit for 3.5 and the next day they say, oh by the way, this shit will be USELESS in 9 months. Thank you for your money, now spend more on this new edition."
I just sat there and laughed. Then I thought. Damnit, my World of Warcraft books are all 3.5.
Fuck this, Im moving to something like World of Darkness or Shadowrun.
Rule #0 for wizards of the coast products
We will try our best to make every rule completely useless with a new rule.
Dont you love geekiness. Its such a hard life.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
The Meaning of Life
Everyone has been asking this question through out history. Everyone searches for the meaning of life. Some people try to find it through finding that so called soul mate, or through religeon, or through friends. I believe I have found my meaning to life.
Many people strive and scheme through out their everyday trials trying to achieve some kind of goal, whether it be some sort of business, or educational, or monetary gain. And they strive for this goal because it makes them happy. I have discovered that I am most happy with the simple things in life. I was recently in hannibal. I went there to have pizza with some old friends. This of course was just a blast, even though we did nothing but talk about old things. Later on a friend of mine's girlfriend, and her friend, wanted to go swimming. And I happened to be the only one with a vehicle there. So I was "persuaded" *cough cough* to take them swimming. But all the pools were closed. So we decided to go to the fountains by the mississipi and swim in them. But just playing in the water, watching all the guys walk, or drive by, just staring at me jealously, and the atmosphere, was just the world to me. Its crazy how something so simple would be so uplifting. Ozzfest, also, was one of the greatest times Ive ever had in my life. I was surounded by like-minded people. I had many conversations with different people, and of course, challenged them in the mosh pit.
Its the simple things.
The simple drinking game full of laughter and jokes, while surounded by friends is also one of the most uplifting occasions. I recently started hanging out with a new crowd of people. And that was how I got to know them.
But one of my passions has always been meeting new people. I met a guy there, he was from las vegas, and he worked in the music industry. We had a good 4 hour conversation on nothing but music theory, talent of upcoming bands, note theory, and the sort. I was most happy then also.
The meaning of life is not to reach a goal. Once your dead, that goal is gone. Un retainable. Its the good times, the simple times, and the simple things. If you were an average citizen all your life, but had more fun moments, or simple moments, such as these mentioned, you would die a richer man than the CEO of wallmart. All he gets is his name on the wall. Whereas I will leave an impression on everyone I meet, that lasts on. I have also decided to join the army. At the water fountain, many tourists came up to us and asked us questions that turned into light conversation. And of course the older people asked what we were doing with our lives. When I told them military, they all had the same reaction. They showed me the upmost respect. The kind of respect Im not used to getting. And its moments like that, that make life worth living.
This, I believe, is the meaning of life. Life is a series of moments. And you have controll of what those moments will be. I will make my moments happy and lasting ones, whenever I can. Screw the drama of chasing that one true love, screw the want for unatainable riches. These things just cause worry on your mind, and when these moments come, you wont recognize them. But if you do recognize them, after you read this, just take the moment in. Live in the moment, and it will make you happy.
-Red Death
Many people strive and scheme through out their everyday trials trying to achieve some kind of goal, whether it be some sort of business, or educational, or monetary gain. And they strive for this goal because it makes them happy. I have discovered that I am most happy with the simple things in life. I was recently in hannibal. I went there to have pizza with some old friends. This of course was just a blast, even though we did nothing but talk about old things. Later on a friend of mine's girlfriend, and her friend, wanted to go swimming. And I happened to be the only one with a vehicle there. So I was "persuaded" *cough cough* to take them swimming. But all the pools were closed. So we decided to go to the fountains by the mississipi and swim in them. But just playing in the water, watching all the guys walk, or drive by, just staring at me jealously, and the atmosphere, was just the world to me. Its crazy how something so simple would be so uplifting. Ozzfest, also, was one of the greatest times Ive ever had in my life. I was surounded by like-minded people. I had many conversations with different people, and of course, challenged them in the mosh pit.
Its the simple things.
The simple drinking game full of laughter and jokes, while surounded by friends is also one of the most uplifting occasions. I recently started hanging out with a new crowd of people. And that was how I got to know them.
But one of my passions has always been meeting new people. I met a guy there, he was from las vegas, and he worked in the music industry. We had a good 4 hour conversation on nothing but music theory, talent of upcoming bands, note theory, and the sort. I was most happy then also.
The meaning of life is not to reach a goal. Once your dead, that goal is gone. Un retainable. Its the good times, the simple times, and the simple things. If you were an average citizen all your life, but had more fun moments, or simple moments, such as these mentioned, you would die a richer man than the CEO of wallmart. All he gets is his name on the wall. Whereas I will leave an impression on everyone I meet, that lasts on. I have also decided to join the army. At the water fountain, many tourists came up to us and asked us questions that turned into light conversation. And of course the older people asked what we were doing with our lives. When I told them military, they all had the same reaction. They showed me the upmost respect. The kind of respect Im not used to getting. And its moments like that, that make life worth living.
This, I believe, is the meaning of life. Life is a series of moments. And you have controll of what those moments will be. I will make my moments happy and lasting ones, whenever I can. Screw the drama of chasing that one true love, screw the want for unatainable riches. These things just cause worry on your mind, and when these moments come, you wont recognize them. But if you do recognize them, after you read this, just take the moment in. Live in the moment, and it will make you happy.
-Red Death
Monday, August 13, 2007
The Casualties of Life
When you fight for what you want
You lose along the way
Something always dies
Inside the lies you say
Every breath you take
Leads to another plan
A new way to achieve your dreams
A new way to kill your past
But the past is not just memory
It's people, and they're lives too
The ones that will survive your war
Will be broken and few
The choices that we make
Determine who we are
Fore every death I bring about
I bear the deepest scars
To fight for what I want
Means to hurt the things I don't
Sometimes those things are people
Their screams echo in my soul
But on and on I battle
Leaving the dead in my wake
I hope it will all be worth it
To win the way
- Deceitful Void
You lose along the way
Something always dies
Inside the lies you say
Every breath you take
Leads to another plan
A new way to achieve your dreams
A new way to kill your past
But the past is not just memory
It's people, and they're lives too
The ones that will survive your war
Will be broken and few
The choices that we make
Determine who we are
Fore every death I bring about
I bear the deepest scars
To fight for what I want
Means to hurt the things I don't
Sometimes those things are people
Their screams echo in my soul
But on and on I battle
Leaving the dead in my wake
I hope it will all be worth it
To win the way
- Deceitful Void
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Tarot, Porn, and Waging War
I've decided that no matter what the so-called "guiding spirits" have to say. I can have my cake, the ice-cream, and the cookies, all at the same time, and well fate, if you want to try to mess with that for me then all I have to say is ; FUCK YOU! I will have the love of my life, both of them, the music and the man, and there is nothing you can do about it. There I feel better.
So I don't understand pornography. I set down and flipped through some actual porn the other day, you know not playboy the real stuff, and well, it didn't do anything but put me in a bad mood. How can people be so degrading to themselves as to let other people take their pictures while having sex, or playing with themselves or whatever. It is not attractive, or a turn on. It makes me feel very sorry for those people, and the people who are addicted to it, and buy it all the time. I don't get it, could someone explain to me it's appeal? How can people with such low self-esteem and and self-regard, do anything but inspire pity and revolt when you look at those pictures? How is it possible that these things turn some people on? Does it mean that those people also have a low self-regard? I just don't understand it. If you can explain this too me, please feel free, I'd love to hear it.
What brings on this seemingly random post? Well we decided to clean our house, which is really more like guerilla warfare than cleaning. It is literally a battle field. But in the battlefield are the scattered remains of a massive porno collection(hence the above), and art supplies. We have worked on the house for two days now and it still isn't done. You'd think that 5 people together could clean a house in a matter of hours, but this is taking on a life of it's own, and I swear the house is fighting back. Well, bring it on. I'm in the mood to fight, for and/or with, something/someone. as for the very first paragraph, that comes from the resting activity in which two of our household gave tarot readings. well according to mine, I have to choose, between the man, and the music, well fuck that. i do not have to give up one to have the other. I do not have to, and I refuse to compromise on it. So fate can bring it on too.
So I don't understand pornography. I set down and flipped through some actual porn the other day, you know not playboy the real stuff, and well, it didn't do anything but put me in a bad mood. How can people be so degrading to themselves as to let other people take their pictures while having sex, or playing with themselves or whatever. It is not attractive, or a turn on. It makes me feel very sorry for those people, and the people who are addicted to it, and buy it all the time. I don't get it, could someone explain to me it's appeal? How can people with such low self-esteem and and self-regard, do anything but inspire pity and revolt when you look at those pictures? How is it possible that these things turn some people on? Does it mean that those people also have a low self-regard? I just don't understand it. If you can explain this too me, please feel free, I'd love to hear it.
What brings on this seemingly random post? Well we decided to clean our house, which is really more like guerilla warfare than cleaning. It is literally a battle field. But in the battlefield are the scattered remains of a massive porno collection(hence the above), and art supplies. We have worked on the house for two days now and it still isn't done. You'd think that 5 people together could clean a house in a matter of hours, but this is taking on a life of it's own, and I swear the house is fighting back. Well, bring it on. I'm in the mood to fight, for and/or with, something/someone. as for the very first paragraph, that comes from the resting activity in which two of our household gave tarot readings. well according to mine, I have to choose, between the man, and the music, well fuck that. i do not have to give up one to have the other. I do not have to, and I refuse to compromise on it. So fate can bring it on too.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Role Models
Everyone has a role model. I dont care who you are. My personal role model has always been Marilyn Manson. He is my role model. But that isnt the topic of this train of thinking.
I have just recently discovered some very sensitive information today. When I was in high school, I was the one who was the rebel. The one who did his own thing. The one that everyone hated, the outcast, or so I thought.
It was my seniour year. Before this I had next to no friends. But during my senior year, I made many good friends in the school, even though I hated many, many of the people in it. But things like, people always talking to me, wanting to come with me on my extreme party adventures, and things of that nature, never really sunk in to my head as to what that really was.
During my senior year, I was the typical bad boy. Coming home every night at 1 a.m. on school nights and staying out all weekend. I was partying it up around all the other towns. Of course everyone knew when I was there cuz I stand out like a white shark on the beach. The true metal head that wore all black, bondage pants, all sorts of chains, band shirts. And the one who never missed a concert and always kicked more ass in the mosh pit than anyone else. Of couse that was one of my goals in life. To kick more ass in mosh pits than anyone. Living it up, you know.
But after I started doing that, people started to take notice. And of course at the time I didnt pay much attention. I just kept talking about the asses I kicked on the streets, at the party, and in the mosh pits. Plus talking about the concerts themselves and how good the bands where, and how I got to meet the band members, and things of that nature. Also talking about the wild parties I went to, the booz I drank, the women who I had never seen before lying next to me in the morning, naked, and of course taking the wierd substances, that no one asked what it is, that made you see shit.
I thought I was just making conversation, but more and more people kept wanting to come with me, or talk to me about the things I had done, or the places I had been, because Ive been to almost every state more than one time. I traveled the country for 4 summers in a row. Several of them wanted me to throw parties for them. Then girls who I thought would never talk to me in our school started hanging around me. And now I know that people in that school were talking about me all the time, like some underground newsletter. What did "Red Death" do this weekend. This is what he did this weekend. He kicked some guys ass, went to a party and woke up next to some naked chick, and a nasty headache, and then he went to some crazy metal concert and beat up some more people in the mosh pit. He's so cool. But i never knew this at the time. But the point is that now I know.
Ive been told by an insider that people were talking about me like I was and I quote in the words of someone else, "Like you were God on earth.", and people worshipped the ground I stepped on. This is no exageration either. They litteral wanted nothing else in the world than to be like me. Also there were a couple of people who wanted to be my best friends. One said to someone else, who I now know quite well, "I would give anything to be his best friend." Another example. There was this girl who was always nice, or whatever i saw out of her was nice, but Ive been told recently that that person is a complete bitch. And that whenever she was around me she was extememly nice. Same goes for other people. I am not naming names though. Thats just bad writing.
And of course there was that one girl that clung to me cuz of my "I dont care, and you cant change me, attitude." Always trying to talk to me. Flirting with me every time she saw me, and litterally cutting class cuz she knew that I was roaming the halls just to see me. And yes, I eventually dated her, the only one who could make the bad boy settle down. And that was the truth. I have only had one true girlfriend. And she was the best I coul've asked for. When I was almost paralyzed, I could see her crying inside. She went out of her way to try to be with me at every move she made. She would always stay out in the halls with me until the bell actually rang. And everyday when school was out we would slip around the corner of the building before everyone else came out. Because of my lifestlye, I didnt ever truely date anyone, and I still don't really have time to stay with just one. Its not like I dont want one, but the way I live is just too much fun to throw it away, and you can't party like this forever. But, it is true that once I started dating her, I did settle down alot. But that didnt last, as two months later her parents didnt like it and pulled her out of school cuz she was dating me. Guess they didnt like their daughter dating the rebel guy.
And after that it was back to the old ways. But I did not realize that I, the lowest of the low, was the role model for so many people. Like I gave some of them a reason to keep on. And I also wondered why there were so many people that acted like me, and dressed like me when graduation rolled around. I thought they were just posers, trying to look cool. No, they were immitating me. And Im talking a group of 8th graders, and several freshman, several sophmores, and a few juniors who are now seniors were doing this. It was not just a few people. They were everywhere. I never new I could leave such a legacy. And whats funny is I influenced everyone. If I wasnt their role model, this is excluding my class though, becuase they were used to me, but I was either the role model, or people feared me extremely.
I always wondered why my new english teacher gave me A's on bad work. I overheard her saying to another teacher that I looked like a serial killer about ready to snap. Of course I used this to my advantage and did apsolutely nothing in that class from then on out. I always wondered why the halls cleared when I walked down them. How everyone stared. I thought I was just a freak. But I was so wrong. I also now know that a clique of preppy girls, whom I did not associate with, thought I was hot and that they wanted to date me.
My vision of myself was far from that. I always thought of myself as a fat, ugly to the extreme, and a freak of nature. I was quite depressed at times, but I was good at hiding it. I cant see why someone or even this many people would envy my life. And its not just at my school. Also another school, I have just recently learned that I was like a legend.
Its just beyond me why so many people would cling to such a low life as I. I asked a good friend of mine what he thought, because he was also one of them who associated with the people who idolized me, and he said its not my life, its becuase I walked around as a freak, with my head held high, and i walked in a way that said "Get out of my way. I dont care what you think." And that I also made people feel good when they were at thier breaking point. But Ive never actually tried to cheer someone up. I just talk to them normally. But the point of all this is that no matter who you are, you are influencing someone. I truely dont understand it though. Im just another human being, nothing more. Why did these kids idolize me. Ive been told why, but I dont understand it.
I wonder if the kids of today really do need someone to look up to. Did they really find their life so unimportant that they had to look up to me. I think about that in my terms and I look to Marilyn Manson because he talks about things in his music and interviews that I can relate to. But these kids couldnt relate to me. Whats the connection here? But I can rest knowing that Ive left a legacy somewhere. And that Ive given them something. But to the ones that said "I would give anything to be his best friend," most of them are really good friends of mine, and I have recently looked at their lives, and they are taking the same paths that I took. I feel so bad for them because Ive been down those roads. They bring lots of happiness, but they also bring lots of pain. I know I was strong enough to get through them, because I am a stone wall, emotionally, when it comes to things said by people I dont care about. I do, however, take things from my close friends rather seriously. But some of them are more fragile. And I hope they dont make the same mistakes I did. But some of them already have. I almost lost one friend to suicide because he took one of my paths. I helped him through it. So he's still alive, but he now understands the grave he is digging by following my path. I hope others dont make the same mistakes.
Role models. They have more power than they could possibly imagine. Im the way I am cuz of the music I listen to and the way the band members dress. I almost wish I could make some of those kids understand the path they are taking a little better. But, Live and Learn. It will make them stronger if they get through it.
p.s. I always wanted to put my experiences of that year in writing somehow. Well, I jsut did. But more importantly is I really dont have to now, because it will live on for some time in other peoples minds. And when people start to forget it, it probably wont matter anymore, anyway. The stories of "Red Death", the one who turned the school upside down.
-Red Death
I have just recently discovered some very sensitive information today. When I was in high school, I was the one who was the rebel. The one who did his own thing. The one that everyone hated, the outcast, or so I thought.
It was my seniour year. Before this I had next to no friends. But during my senior year, I made many good friends in the school, even though I hated many, many of the people in it. But things like, people always talking to me, wanting to come with me on my extreme party adventures, and things of that nature, never really sunk in to my head as to what that really was.
During my senior year, I was the typical bad boy. Coming home every night at 1 a.m. on school nights and staying out all weekend. I was partying it up around all the other towns. Of course everyone knew when I was there cuz I stand out like a white shark on the beach. The true metal head that wore all black, bondage pants, all sorts of chains, band shirts. And the one who never missed a concert and always kicked more ass in the mosh pit than anyone else. Of couse that was one of my goals in life. To kick more ass in mosh pits than anyone. Living it up, you know.
But after I started doing that, people started to take notice. And of course at the time I didnt pay much attention. I just kept talking about the asses I kicked on the streets, at the party, and in the mosh pits. Plus talking about the concerts themselves and how good the bands where, and how I got to meet the band members, and things of that nature. Also talking about the wild parties I went to, the booz I drank, the women who I had never seen before lying next to me in the morning, naked, and of course taking the wierd substances, that no one asked what it is, that made you see shit.
I thought I was just making conversation, but more and more people kept wanting to come with me, or talk to me about the things I had done, or the places I had been, because Ive been to almost every state more than one time. I traveled the country for 4 summers in a row. Several of them wanted me to throw parties for them. Then girls who I thought would never talk to me in our school started hanging around me. And now I know that people in that school were talking about me all the time, like some underground newsletter. What did "Red Death" do this weekend. This is what he did this weekend. He kicked some guys ass, went to a party and woke up next to some naked chick, and a nasty headache, and then he went to some crazy metal concert and beat up some more people in the mosh pit. He's so cool. But i never knew this at the time. But the point is that now I know.
Ive been told by an insider that people were talking about me like I was and I quote in the words of someone else, "Like you were God on earth.", and people worshipped the ground I stepped on. This is no exageration either. They litteral wanted nothing else in the world than to be like me. Also there were a couple of people who wanted to be my best friends. One said to someone else, who I now know quite well, "I would give anything to be his best friend." Another example. There was this girl who was always nice, or whatever i saw out of her was nice, but Ive been told recently that that person is a complete bitch. And that whenever she was around me she was extememly nice. Same goes for other people. I am not naming names though. Thats just bad writing.
And of course there was that one girl that clung to me cuz of my "I dont care, and you cant change me, attitude." Always trying to talk to me. Flirting with me every time she saw me, and litterally cutting class cuz she knew that I was roaming the halls just to see me. And yes, I eventually dated her, the only one who could make the bad boy settle down. And that was the truth. I have only had one true girlfriend. And she was the best I coul've asked for. When I was almost paralyzed, I could see her crying inside. She went out of her way to try to be with me at every move she made. She would always stay out in the halls with me until the bell actually rang. And everyday when school was out we would slip around the corner of the building before everyone else came out. Because of my lifestlye, I didnt ever truely date anyone, and I still don't really have time to stay with just one. Its not like I dont want one, but the way I live is just too much fun to throw it away, and you can't party like this forever. But, it is true that once I started dating her, I did settle down alot. But that didnt last, as two months later her parents didnt like it and pulled her out of school cuz she was dating me. Guess they didnt like their daughter dating the rebel guy.
And after that it was back to the old ways. But I did not realize that I, the lowest of the low, was the role model for so many people. Like I gave some of them a reason to keep on. And I also wondered why there were so many people that acted like me, and dressed like me when graduation rolled around. I thought they were just posers, trying to look cool. No, they were immitating me. And Im talking a group of 8th graders, and several freshman, several sophmores, and a few juniors who are now seniors were doing this. It was not just a few people. They were everywhere. I never new I could leave such a legacy. And whats funny is I influenced everyone. If I wasnt their role model, this is excluding my class though, becuase they were used to me, but I was either the role model, or people feared me extremely.
I always wondered why my new english teacher gave me A's on bad work. I overheard her saying to another teacher that I looked like a serial killer about ready to snap. Of course I used this to my advantage and did apsolutely nothing in that class from then on out. I always wondered why the halls cleared when I walked down them. How everyone stared. I thought I was just a freak. But I was so wrong. I also now know that a clique of preppy girls, whom I did not associate with, thought I was hot and that they wanted to date me.
My vision of myself was far from that. I always thought of myself as a fat, ugly to the extreme, and a freak of nature. I was quite depressed at times, but I was good at hiding it. I cant see why someone or even this many people would envy my life. And its not just at my school. Also another school, I have just recently learned that I was like a legend.
Its just beyond me why so many people would cling to such a low life as I. I asked a good friend of mine what he thought, because he was also one of them who associated with the people who idolized me, and he said its not my life, its becuase I walked around as a freak, with my head held high, and i walked in a way that said "Get out of my way. I dont care what you think." And that I also made people feel good when they were at thier breaking point. But Ive never actually tried to cheer someone up. I just talk to them normally. But the point of all this is that no matter who you are, you are influencing someone. I truely dont understand it though. Im just another human being, nothing more. Why did these kids idolize me. Ive been told why, but I dont understand it.
I wonder if the kids of today really do need someone to look up to. Did they really find their life so unimportant that they had to look up to me. I think about that in my terms and I look to Marilyn Manson because he talks about things in his music and interviews that I can relate to. But these kids couldnt relate to me. Whats the connection here? But I can rest knowing that Ive left a legacy somewhere. And that Ive given them something. But to the ones that said "I would give anything to be his best friend," most of them are really good friends of mine, and I have recently looked at their lives, and they are taking the same paths that I took. I feel so bad for them because Ive been down those roads. They bring lots of happiness, but they also bring lots of pain. I know I was strong enough to get through them, because I am a stone wall, emotionally, when it comes to things said by people I dont care about. I do, however, take things from my close friends rather seriously. But some of them are more fragile. And I hope they dont make the same mistakes I did. But some of them already have. I almost lost one friend to suicide because he took one of my paths. I helped him through it. So he's still alive, but he now understands the grave he is digging by following my path. I hope others dont make the same mistakes.
Role models. They have more power than they could possibly imagine. Im the way I am cuz of the music I listen to and the way the band members dress. I almost wish I could make some of those kids understand the path they are taking a little better. But, Live and Learn. It will make them stronger if they get through it.
p.s. I always wanted to put my experiences of that year in writing somehow. Well, I jsut did. But more importantly is I really dont have to now, because it will live on for some time in other peoples minds. And when people start to forget it, it probably wont matter anymore, anyway. The stories of "Red Death", the one who turned the school upside down.
-Red Death
Thursday, July 26, 2007
On the Subject of Fireballs
So the day started off normally enough. I got up, got a shower, and headed into work. I checked my messages to make sure there was nothing to add to my "GET THIS SHIT DONE" list and noticed that I had a bit of shipping to do this morning. One of my co-workers came in to shoot the breeze and I headed back to the supply closet to get appropriate boxes for shipping.
This is when things went horribly wrong.
Apparently, one of my esteemed co-workers decided that, since they had lost the cap to the gas can, shoving a rag in the nozzle was a stand up idea. As I opened the door to the supply closet the door pushed a bolt that had fallen down behind it across the rough concrete floor.
I've heard that time slows down when you're in danger, but I tell you what, the rush of adrenaline was like no other. I remember hearing a screw drag behind the door then hearing a loud boom. I looked up as a fireball headed at me in slow motion. I remember standing and staring at it slowly headed my way and thinking "Damn this fucking blows. Oh well, I had a good run. Hopefully people won't miss me too much." I looked down and saw the gas can, not yet on fire, it had just ignited the fuel that had leaked on the ground and the fumes in the air. I dropped down and shoved it as hard as I could out of the room as I hit the deck. The fireball passed up and over me and I started shouting at the co-worker I had been talking to to grab one of the three fire extinguishers we kept in the shop. I crawled out like some weird 4 legged creature who lacked the strength to walk on his feet and must instead drag himself along as my coworker sprayed the fire down. (Many thanks go to him, he hit my pants leg first before moving on to the main fire, I didn't even realize I had been hit.)
This whole process to me seemed to take a couple minutes, but the aforementioned co-worker said I started yelling for the extinguisher a split second after the boom and he saw the gas can come skidding out at the same time. The boss bought the two of us lunch for our quick thinking and then went to find the yokels who used the gas can. (ahem, salesmen). I'm sure that conversation was rather lively.
So none worse for the wear, a few bruises, a hurt shoulder, and a really bad sunburn is all I have to show for it. Oh yeah, and everything smells like burnt hair.
I'm sure glad I took Improved Evasion.....
This is when things went horribly wrong.
Apparently, one of my esteemed co-workers decided that, since they had lost the cap to the gas can, shoving a rag in the nozzle was a stand up idea. As I opened the door to the supply closet the door pushed a bolt that had fallen down behind it across the rough concrete floor.
I've heard that time slows down when you're in danger, but I tell you what, the rush of adrenaline was like no other. I remember hearing a screw drag behind the door then hearing a loud boom. I looked up as a fireball headed at me in slow motion. I remember standing and staring at it slowly headed my way and thinking "Damn this fucking blows. Oh well, I had a good run. Hopefully people won't miss me too much." I looked down and saw the gas can, not yet on fire, it had just ignited the fuel that had leaked on the ground and the fumes in the air. I dropped down and shoved it as hard as I could out of the room as I hit the deck. The fireball passed up and over me and I started shouting at the co-worker I had been talking to to grab one of the three fire extinguishers we kept in the shop. I crawled out like some weird 4 legged creature who lacked the strength to walk on his feet and must instead drag himself along as my coworker sprayed the fire down. (Many thanks go to him, he hit my pants leg first before moving on to the main fire, I didn't even realize I had been hit.)
This whole process to me seemed to take a couple minutes, but the aforementioned co-worker said I started yelling for the extinguisher a split second after the boom and he saw the gas can come skidding out at the same time. The boss bought the two of us lunch for our quick thinking and then went to find the yokels who used the gas can. (ahem, salesmen). I'm sure that conversation was rather lively.
So none worse for the wear, a few bruises, a hurt shoulder, and a really bad sunburn is all I have to show for it. Oh yeah, and everything smells like burnt hair.
I'm sure glad I took Improved Evasion.....
The Rising Tide
Wet sand
I'm angry
At myself?
Or ar you?
Water between my Toes
I hate that you can't let go
Why can't you just move on
Why do I have to feel bad?
Submerged Ankles
It's not my fault
I told you how it was
So Why do I feel like it is
Up to my knees
I said I was unsure
That there was another
That I had yet to make my choice
Waist High
You moved in
You read to deep
You never really heard me
Washing over my shoulders
Now your going under
I feel like it's my fault
But I never lied to you
Covering my mouth
Now I'm happy
Now your not
And I'm Angry
To the eyes
How dare you
Ruin this for me
Why did you have to hang on so tight
Over my head
I see you dying
I'm angry at myself
Because I never should have tried
Waves on the Sand
I can't see you anymore
The price is high this day
I wish we both had just walked away
The Final Cut
So Life is like auditions for the theatre. You may be good, very good, at what you do, be it dancing or singing, or acting or whatever, but you still don't always get cast in the role you want, either because someone else was better, or you just weren't what the director was looking for, or maybe the chemistry was bad. But you didn't get the part, and now you have to deal with the reality. It doesn't mean you suck, or that you're a failure, it doesn't mean the world is going to come crashing down on you and leave you alone in desolation. It means you didn't get the part there is something else for you, go and find it.
Life is the same way. maybe it's a job interview, and you didn't quite fill the bill, so what, you go find a job somewhere else. Maybe it's a romantic interest, she found someone else, or he did. Big deal, I know it hurts but what's the point in wallowing in it. Go out there and find someone new. It doesn't make you a failure, or a bad person, or undesirable, it just means that in the end that person found someone who they feel is better suited. So go find someone else. All this bullshit about 'you're the only one for me' only gets in the way of life. Amazing people get overlooked because your blinded by your broken heart. Well I'm sick of it. I'm tired of always being the reason people are depressed. I'm sorry, but I'm picky, I have standards, and for once in my life I'm actually using them, I found someone who measures up. I'm sorry that I broke your heart, but be a man and move on. I can't handle all of this melodrama. It's like living in day-time T.V. I know what's on your mind, you think if you just bide your time, that I'll come back to you again. I won't. I have my answers and you are no longer on my romantic radar, so be a man about it, and stop falling apart, you knew from the beginning that I wouldn't be around long. I told you that, but you didn't hear me. Now you have to deal with it, and so do I.
Maybe it's because I've never had my heart broken in romance that I don't understand this reaction. But I've had my heart broken before, when my father died, and I gave up my son, and I recovered, I dealt with it. I moved on, life did not stop, the world is still turning, and I fail to see how I could've wounded your heart so far beyond repair in what was a short-lived romance. I just don't understand it.
Life is the same way. maybe it's a job interview, and you didn't quite fill the bill, so what, you go find a job somewhere else. Maybe it's a romantic interest, she found someone else, or he did. Big deal, I know it hurts but what's the point in wallowing in it. Go out there and find someone new. It doesn't make you a failure, or a bad person, or undesirable, it just means that in the end that person found someone who they feel is better suited. So go find someone else. All this bullshit about 'you're the only one for me' only gets in the way of life. Amazing people get overlooked because your blinded by your broken heart. Well I'm sick of it. I'm tired of always being the reason people are depressed. I'm sorry, but I'm picky, I have standards, and for once in my life I'm actually using them, I found someone who measures up. I'm sorry that I broke your heart, but be a man and move on. I can't handle all of this melodrama. It's like living in day-time T.V. I know what's on your mind, you think if you just bide your time, that I'll come back to you again. I won't. I have my answers and you are no longer on my romantic radar, so be a man about it, and stop falling apart, you knew from the beginning that I wouldn't be around long. I told you that, but you didn't hear me. Now you have to deal with it, and so do I.
Maybe it's because I've never had my heart broken in romance that I don't understand this reaction. But I've had my heart broken before, when my father died, and I gave up my son, and I recovered, I dealt with it. I moved on, life did not stop, the world is still turning, and I fail to see how I could've wounded your heart so far beyond repair in what was a short-lived romance. I just don't understand it.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
4th edition Shadowrun
So now that I've had a while to play it and mess with the rules, not to mention being neck deep in running a very convoluted campaign, I find myself fairly satisfied with the new changes. They've kept the right technological and magical mix. They've delivered the flavor and feel of the sprawling metropolises very well, but yet it feels lacking somehow.
As I sat here pondering it all came to me in a rush. One of my favorite parts of Shadowrun was the dice pool. You know, the extra dice that your character had that could be applied to anything and could only be replenished when the GM said so. (sometimes at the end of an adventure, sometimes when you did something heroic, sometimes for telling a raunchy joke or smashing a beer can with a katana you had laying around your apartment.) This was replaced by the "Edge" stat in the new edition. And several of my friends have told me that I'm just whining, that burning an Edge temporarily gives you the ability to re-roll your dice and therefore have a chance at a better result.
However, it's just not the same to me. Sure, re-rolling all your dice is useful, but there's nothing quite like taking a huge handful of dice, pumped up by your pool, and throwing 30-40 dice down all at once. Putting everything you have behind that one magical sniper shot, or that leap to clear an oncoming semi, or landing the perfect katana blow that separates two vertebra from some creeps back.
Also, Edge gives an easy way out. "I'm permanently burning an edge so I don't die!" It feels like the system has been neutered, giving players a get out of jail free card if they fuck up or say....a grenade goes off 2 feet away. It has taken out a lot of the lethality that made Shadowrun what it is. I fell in love with the game originally just because of that aspect. It wasn't like D&D where if you got hit by a lightning bolt you kinda shrugged it off and kept going. No, you get hit by a lightning bolt, you're gonna be either A)Dead or B)Wishing you were fucking dead. It lost some of its charm when it gave players a free mulligan against stupidity.
That being said, don't get the wrong idea. Shadowrun is still my favorite system. 4th edition cleaned up a lot of rules, and made it much simpler for new players to get into. No more arbitrary target numbers or "rule of six". I think the designers, for the most part, did a great job.
I fondly remember the bucket of d6's, maybe it's time for some house rules.
As I sat here pondering it all came to me in a rush. One of my favorite parts of Shadowrun was the dice pool. You know, the extra dice that your character had that could be applied to anything and could only be replenished when the GM said so. (sometimes at the end of an adventure, sometimes when you did something heroic, sometimes for telling a raunchy joke or smashing a beer can with a katana you had laying around your apartment.) This was replaced by the "Edge" stat in the new edition. And several of my friends have told me that I'm just whining, that burning an Edge temporarily gives you the ability to re-roll your dice and therefore have a chance at a better result.
However, it's just not the same to me. Sure, re-rolling all your dice is useful, but there's nothing quite like taking a huge handful of dice, pumped up by your pool, and throwing 30-40 dice down all at once. Putting everything you have behind that one magical sniper shot, or that leap to clear an oncoming semi, or landing the perfect katana blow that separates two vertebra from some creeps back.
Also, Edge gives an easy way out. "I'm permanently burning an edge so I don't die!" It feels like the system has been neutered, giving players a get out of jail free card if they fuck up or say....a grenade goes off 2 feet away. It has taken out a lot of the lethality that made Shadowrun what it is. I fell in love with the game originally just because of that aspect. It wasn't like D&D where if you got hit by a lightning bolt you kinda shrugged it off and kept going. No, you get hit by a lightning bolt, you're gonna be either A)Dead or B)Wishing you were fucking dead. It lost some of its charm when it gave players a free mulligan against stupidity.
That being said, don't get the wrong idea. Shadowrun is still my favorite system. 4th edition cleaned up a lot of rules, and made it much simpler for new players to get into. No more arbitrary target numbers or "rule of six". I think the designers, for the most part, did a great job.
I fondly remember the bucket of d6's, maybe it's time for some house rules.
a lovely day in the world of myspace
So I was going through my bulletins on myspace, and of course there was only one out of 20 that was worth reading. but i ran into a boyfriend/girfriend application.
ok, no offence to anyone who actually wants a response from something like this, but, are you so desperate that you had to come up with a post like this. whoever wrote this has got to be the most pathetic person on earth. i mean come on. do you really need an application to get a date. and on the other hand, do you really think your so wanted that you have the right to make people put in an application to date you like you have some kind of standard and your so perfect that you wont date someone unless they are as perfect as you. Another thing, why the fuck would you want people on the internet to fill it out. Do you realize how many psycos are on the net. And do you think everything everyone says is true, come on. get out of you fantasy world. this is reality. you apply for jobs, and a relationship is not a job. my personal opinions of relationships ill admit is very negative, and i think they are a complete wast of brain power. But seriously. whoever made a post like that is just stupid.
dream when your asleep. this is reality bitches.
although i do admit stupid shit like this provides me entertainment from time to time. Because laughing at the stupidity of other people, is just fun
-Red Death
ok, no offence to anyone who actually wants a response from something like this, but, are you so desperate that you had to come up with a post like this. whoever wrote this has got to be the most pathetic person on earth. i mean come on. do you really need an application to get a date. and on the other hand, do you really think your so wanted that you have the right to make people put in an application to date you like you have some kind of standard and your so perfect that you wont date someone unless they are as perfect as you. Another thing, why the fuck would you want people on the internet to fill it out. Do you realize how many psycos are on the net. And do you think everything everyone says is true, come on. get out of you fantasy world. this is reality. you apply for jobs, and a relationship is not a job. my personal opinions of relationships ill admit is very negative, and i think they are a complete wast of brain power. But seriously. whoever made a post like that is just stupid.
dream when your asleep. this is reality bitches.
although i do admit stupid shit like this provides me entertainment from time to time. Because laughing at the stupidity of other people, is just fun
-Red Death
If I Was Your Vampire
I was listening to this new song byMarilyn Manson and the whole time a rant was brewing in my head. I wrote it out and I was about to post it, but then I realized, the song says everything i was trying to say better. So im just going to post the song. I hope you can understand what the symbolism and imagery really means, because this song really is what i feel, and what ive felt for a long time. Marilyn Manson, in an interview, said that he was like a vampire. Nothing could bring him down. But a knife through his heart nearly destroyed him. His imagery turns everything that was normally good is actually bad. The dusk of night was actually the only time he could be whole again. Like the song says, We build this coffin together, but I fill it alone. They build their life together, but death comes early for him because she leaves and he has to fill it alone.
-Red Death
-Red Death
Monday, July 23, 2007
On Learning How to Manipulate Yourself
So here I sit pondering my past and what it means for my future. The conclusion I've come to is it doesn't mean anything for my future. So many people put too much into 'where they've been' and 'what they've been through'. I try to be like that, but I find in one aspect of my life I can't help it.*(disclaimer: this is not me bitching about what horrible people men are, I am actually bitching about myself and girl like me)* Why is it that when it comes to romance I continually block myself, why do I hurt the guy that actually means something to me? Why do I date the asshole that I know is a bad guy and that I know I will eventually break up with and then have to deal with that drama? The answer I have come up is self-manipulation through fear. In short I'm afraid of love. If you really think about it, I think you'll find that most people are. For me, when I look at the men in my past and possibilities in my future, I always see myself as the harlot, the whore, the one who used that guy for what she wanted, be it physical, mental, monetary, whatever, I see myself as the manipulator, the seductress, the one who is always in the wrong. I see myself like that, because that is truly what I used to be. (Now don't get the wrong idea, I was never a whore in the sense that I was easy or slutty, I use the word because it has a harshness to it that is needed to imply the ragged emotion.) But no longer am I that person, so why do I continue to punish myself for the mistakes I made in the past? What is it that makes me continue to drive away the guy that I know is good for me? Is it because I'm afraid I'll hurt him, or myself? The truth is I don't know. I do know that I'm tired of settling for second-rate, that I no longer am ok with going for the guy that I'm not really attracted to because I know he'll treat me right. I'm done with that, and done with dating the gorgeous guy whose also an asshole. I'm looking for the whole thing, the marriage material package. The guy that will treat me well, and that I'm attracted to. I'm not looking for perfection, but I am looking for patience. I run away from love and I need a guy who understands that what I want scares the shit out of me, but I want it anyway. I am not high-maintenace in the usual sense of the word, I'm pretty laid back, but need a guy who can handle all of my fear, and is willing to wait for me, and is willing to tell me no, who will fight with me and for me, as I will do for him, who will chase me without me a second thought. It sounds like a lot, but I don't think it is, because even as I look back on my darker days of harlotry, I see those qualities in myself. That is way I treat my man, and I need a man who is willing to, and ready to, return the favor.
No wonder
When you go to Alaska, Michigan will seem warm. When you spend a long time in a dark room, light bulbs can be blinding. When you listen to music extrememly loud, yelling seems like normal speach. Deafening or heightening senses are something that everyone has experienced. Extremes make normal things seem duller, extremes become normal, and oposite extremes become normal. When your mind has been broken, normal activities seem hard. Pain seems like pleasure. Normally fun things become unsatisfying. These normal things are magnified into extremes, both negative and positive. But when an opposite extreme comes into play, it can have very destructive effects. Such as the dark room metaphor. What if you stayed in a dark room for a week and all of a sudden looked at the sun? It hurts enough when your used to the light, but the normals have become extreme, and the extremes become devastating. No wonder those with broken minds seem to be unstable. No wonder playful insults hurt them so much. No wonder it takes something extremely good to cheer them up, because normal happyness has been dulled. No wonder they turn to other things to feel normal again.
No wonder they dont last very long.
-Red Death
No wonder they dont last very long.
-Red Death
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Once
I could've loved you once
Sometimes I think I did
You were like rain in the desert
And then you were the sand
The Comfort of a blanket
And then you were gone
The terrain of me is treacherous
It's full of traps and holes
It takes a gallant adventurer
You sank in my mire
But still I held the thought of you
I waited in my center
I looked and looked and called for you
I knew you would not answer
When the truth finally came to me
About your demise
I couldn't help but laugh a little
At desires cruel disguise
There was a time in my heart
When there was room for you
But now that room is locked and guarded
A key there is to find
And if you are brave enough
You might unlock the door
To a room where no light shines
no wind blows, only me
I could've loved you once
Sometimes I think I did
- Deceitful Void
Sometimes I think I did
You were like rain in the desert
And then you were the sand
The Comfort of a blanket
And then you were gone
The terrain of me is treacherous
It's full of traps and holes
It takes a gallant adventurer
You sank in my mire
But still I held the thought of you
I waited in my center
I looked and looked and called for you
I knew you would not answer
When the truth finally came to me
About your demise
I couldn't help but laugh a little
At desires cruel disguise
There was a time in my heart
When there was room for you
But now that room is locked and guarded
A key there is to find
And if you are brave enough
You might unlock the door
To a room where no light shines
no wind blows, only me
I could've loved you once
Sometimes I think I did
- Deceitful Void
Saturday, July 21, 2007
The Sting
Salt in the air
Stings my eyes
The soft carpet sinks
It holds me in place
In the back I see the door
It bangs inside the breeze
The bloody tiles stain the floor
The man is on his knees
Iron singes my nose
The acrid scent uplifting
A morbid clarity unfolding
The sincerity is fitting
Sickly sound squish through my hears
The man is on his face
The crimson trail is on the ground
His thoughts dragged in disgrace
The lock clicks decidedly
The liquid tinkles in reply
For everything there is a place
A place for everyone to die
- Deceitful Void
Stings my eyes
The soft carpet sinks
It holds me in place
In the back I see the door
It bangs inside the breeze
The bloody tiles stain the floor
The man is on his knees
Iron singes my nose
The acrid scent uplifting
A morbid clarity unfolding
The sincerity is fitting
Sickly sound squish through my hears
The man is on his face
The crimson trail is on the ground
His thoughts dragged in disgrace
The lock clicks decidedly
The liquid tinkles in reply
For everything there is a place
A place for everyone to die
- Deceitful Void
Friday, July 20, 2007
Ode to the nice guys
Somebody, somewhere, has already said something better than you could say it yourself, so instead of writing out a rant that could be construed as plagiarism, I'll simply post up an essay that contains everything I'm thinking at the moment (and possibly more), and give credit where credit is due.
Ode to the Nice Guys
This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal
This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.
This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.
This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.
The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.
So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.
Fu-zu Jen, SEAS/WH, 2003
Original Location
Ode to the Nice Guys
This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal
This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.
This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.
This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.
The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.
So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.
Fu-zu Jen, SEAS/WH, 2003
Original Location
Rituals
When the spiritual teacher and his disciples began their evening meditation, the cat who lived in the monastery made such noise that it distracted them. So the teacher ordered that the cat be tied up during the evening practice. Years later, when the teacher died, the cat continued to be tied up during the meditation session. And when the cat eventually died, another cat was brought to the monastery and tied up. Centuries later, learned descendants of the spiritual teacher wrote scholarly treatises about the religious significance of tying up a cat for meditation practice.
-Depraved Mind
-Depraved Mind
Thursday, July 19, 2007
the worst kind of pain
Most don't know the pain to have the one thing you want most be a hundred feet from you. You can sit there, and look at it, and wish it were yours, but you cant reach it. Nor can it come to you. And if you were to go to it, it would be destoyed right in front of you. And if it were to come to you, you would be destroyed. So you sit there. Staring in through the light. It is a pain that I hope i never have to feel again. Its left its scar on my mind, and changed my whole outlook on life. What can you truely do when the whole world is keeping your from what you want.
Red Death
Red Death
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
its times like these
its times like these that i truly enjoy metal music the most. when i feel like everything is going the way i want them to and i can concentrate on other things again. When i listen to it, its like i can feel the destruction of those i hate. watching the fruits of brutality in the form of sound. the strums of the guitars is like listening to gunshots of retribution and combat. The drums are like the sounds of war drums in the distance, signaling to the world about whats coming their way. the screams are like my own coming out and unleashing all my hate and aggression out to the world. in my mind i imagin the slaughter of those who stand in my way. their blood on my clothes representing my triumph. yes, i really do love violence, and malvolence. its the only way i know im still alive and no longer dreaming
yes, there really is no feeling like this. the combination of my truimph mixed sweetly with my agression. yes, it really is times like these, that i feel the most alive, and in control of my life.
Red Death
yes, there really is no feeling like this. the combination of my truimph mixed sweetly with my agression. yes, it really is times like these, that i feel the most alive, and in control of my life.
Red Death
Monday, July 16, 2007
Marilyn Manson speech on violence
I don't know and don't really care what your views on him is, but you should watch this video. The man is a certified genius and makes several valid points in this speech.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Protect and Serve
The annual go skateboarding day happened on June 21st this year. I think this video pretty much speaks for itself. Yes, the kids were in the wrong, but does it really warrant this kind of senseless brutality.
Let them know how you feel about Officer Joey Williams.
Hot Springs Arkansas Police Department
Phone: (501) 321-6789
Fax: (501) 321-6708
Chief of Police, Bobby Southard
Email: bsouthard@cityhs.net
641 Malvern Avenue,
Hot Springs, Arkansas 71901
Let them know how you feel about Officer Joey Williams.
Hot Springs Arkansas Police Department
Phone: (501) 321-6789
Fax: (501) 321-6708
Chief of Police, Bobby Southard
Email: bsouthard@cityhs.net
641 Malvern Avenue,
Hot Springs, Arkansas 71901
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Shit my boss says
(boss makes fun of trap shooting for 2 minutes)
coworker: C'mon, there's more to guns than shooting people
Boss: Yeah, like re-loading.
coworker: C'mon, there's more to guns than shooting people
Boss: Yeah, like re-loading.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Thursday, May 3, 2007
The Art of Selling Part II
A lot of people in the sales industry will tell you that there's no magic words that can net you more sales. We sell a higher quality product where I work, and that of course means higher prices. Customers often get beligerant when you tell them the list price. "I can get it way cheaper elsewhere." "You guys are ripping people off." etc. I took the approach of simply explaining how our product was superior to theirs but that had a low success rate. My boss explained it to me that when I did that, it felt like that I was being a snob to them. That I felt I was superior to the other dealer and/or the customer themselves.
So he taught me the three F's. Feel, Felt, Found. These three words help you identify the customer, especially when used like this:
I know how you feel
I felt the same way
Then I found out
You don't say that phrase exactly, but you use that as a basis. For instance, if you're selling computers and trying to compete against Dell with custom built machines you might say something like:
Yeah, I understand what you're saying. When I first started working here I thought that they were outrageously priced because I could go to a mass retailer and buy them much cheaper. Then after I checked them out and really took some time to learn about them I realized that the people who build those computers don't really care about how they put them together, they just want to shove them out as fast as they can. Our people take pride in how much care goes into each individual machine.
So he taught me the three F's. Feel, Felt, Found. These three words help you identify the customer, especially when used like this:
I know how you feel
I felt the same way
Then I found out
You don't say that phrase exactly, but you use that as a basis. For instance, if you're selling computers and trying to compete against Dell with custom built machines you might say something like:
Yeah, I understand what you're saying. When I first started working here I thought that they were outrageously priced because I could go to a mass retailer and buy them much cheaper. Then after I checked them out and really took some time to learn about them I realized that the people who build those computers don't really care about how they put them together, they just want to shove them out as fast as they can. Our people take pride in how much care goes into each individual machine.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Dreaming
The great Taoist master Chuang Tzu once dreamt that he was a butterfly fluttering here and there. In the dream he had no awareness of his individuality as a person. He was only a butterfly. Suddenly, he awoke and found himself laying there, a person once again. But then he thought to himself, "Was I before a man who dreamt about being a butterfly, or am I now a butterfly who dreams about being a man?"
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Kurt Vonnegut
I thought about this post all day. What I would say, how I would say it. What words could possibly convey the sadness I felt for the death of this great man. I thought about quoting some of his work and talking about how it applied to my life and how he had helped me. But then I realized there was only one thing I really needed to say to Kurt for everything he had given both me and the world.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Friday, April 6, 2007
The Art of Selling Part 1
In order to be successful, you must sell 3 things for every sale you make. First, you must sell yourself, then you must sell your business, and then you sell your product.
The Art of Selling idea
I like to study "The Art of War" by Sun-Tzu. Even though its about war, strategy, and tactics; many life lessons can be drawn from it. And while many people have read "The Art of War", few people have read it. Everyone I know who has "read" it went through it in an hour or so, reading every line, and saying they understood it. I'm not of the opinion that this is the way its intended to be read. To truly read the art of war, I recommend reading a single page, then thinking about it for the next 2 or 3 days in your free time. After you've meditated on it for a couple days, read another page. Its like condensed fruit juice, there is a whole pitcher of wisdom to be had in a small container, but you'll only get benefit from it if you take the time to prepare it.
So in that vein I'm doing a little thing on here called "The Art of Selling" The man I work for is truly a genius, and he's doing his best to teach us about being a salesperson, but he gives it to us all at once and I simply do not learn like that. So I'm going to put it in the format set down by Sun-Tzu. I'm writing down stuff he says then every few days I will add something to the blog. A single line of wisdom that he has given us so that I can think about it and think about how to apply it to my life. I realize that I doubt anyone even knows about the existence of this little blog, but you never know, maybe someday I will get a reaction to one of them and it will help move my train of thought into a direction I wouldn't have seen on my own. Yeah, I'm being optimistic again, I should really stop that shit.
So in that vein I'm doing a little thing on here called "The Art of Selling" The man I work for is truly a genius, and he's doing his best to teach us about being a salesperson, but he gives it to us all at once and I simply do not learn like that. So I'm going to put it in the format set down by Sun-Tzu. I'm writing down stuff he says then every few days I will add something to the blog. A single line of wisdom that he has given us so that I can think about it and think about how to apply it to my life. I realize that I doubt anyone even knows about the existence of this little blog, but you never know, maybe someday I will get a reaction to one of them and it will help move my train of thought into a direction I wouldn't have seen on my own. Yeah, I'm being optimistic again, I should really stop that shit.
An epiphany of sorts
I actually got some free time to myself today to just sit and think. Not trying to guide my thought process, but just letting my mind wander. And somewhere in that 30 minutes or so of pure bliss I realized something. I've been constantly worried lately trying to read people, and figure out what they're thinking, and to anticipate what they're feeling so that I can help them. Everybody seems to want me to do this, to know what they're thinking without telling me, but I've decided to just ignore it. If they don't have the courage to tell me what they're feeling or thinking about that subject then its not worth my time or effort deducing it so I can give them help with incomplete and/or inaccurate information. I've always been a straight shooter about telling people what's on my mind, if they can't do the same for me then apparently they don't care enough about me to keep my life as drama free as possible.
Now, by drama free I don't mean I don't want to know about my friends' problems and worries, I just don't want all that other bullshit that a few of them seem to think goes along with it. I don't want the hours of deducing the problem from reading cryptic blogs, reading body language while they're talking about other things, piecing together partial sentences, and figuring out the unspoken meanings to things. I just want to know so that we can work on a solution, fuck the rest of that noise.
I sincerely doubt that I ever achieve this with many of them though, and I can't figure out why. At first I thought it was simple fear. They're scared to talk about their problems. But they should have nothing to fear from me, I would fight to the death for them, and they should know that I always have their backs. No, I think it comes down to a much more simple explanation, pride. How do you arrive at this conclusion you ask? Well, its simple really. In each of our minds we have a certain set of "standards" that we hold ourself to, this is our public persona, the person we show the world. And if we have feelings or thoughts or actions that go against this public persona, we are simply too proud to admit it. I find that I have indeed been guilty of this myself, though I would like to think that I could rise above it in the company of my closest.
I could write more but I'm not sure I could get a lot of my other thoughts into words on the subject, maybe after I've meditated on it some I'll do another entry.
Now, by drama free I don't mean I don't want to know about my friends' problems and worries, I just don't want all that other bullshit that a few of them seem to think goes along with it. I don't want the hours of deducing the problem from reading cryptic blogs, reading body language while they're talking about other things, piecing together partial sentences, and figuring out the unspoken meanings to things. I just want to know so that we can work on a solution, fuck the rest of that noise.
I sincerely doubt that I ever achieve this with many of them though, and I can't figure out why. At first I thought it was simple fear. They're scared to talk about their problems. But they should have nothing to fear from me, I would fight to the death for them, and they should know that I always have their backs. No, I think it comes down to a much more simple explanation, pride. How do you arrive at this conclusion you ask? Well, its simple really. In each of our minds we have a certain set of "standards" that we hold ourself to, this is our public persona, the person we show the world. And if we have feelings or thoughts or actions that go against this public persona, we are simply too proud to admit it. I find that I have indeed been guilty of this myself, though I would like to think that I could rise above it in the company of my closest.
I could write more but I'm not sure I could get a lot of my other thoughts into words on the subject, maybe after I've meditated on it some I'll do another entry.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Part time homies not wanted.
Lately I seem to be getting hurt mentally more. And its not things that would normally scar a person, but things that a couple years ago, hell, a few months ago, wouldn't have bothered me in the slightest. I've been through deaths and breakups and emotional beatings but I've never felt this bad.
I've been tossing this conundrum around in my head for a couple weeks now and I've come to the conclusion that I've started caring too much. I care what people think of me, what I think of them, and if they like me. This has led to a series of unfortunate events which may have cost me yet another close friend. If I could take it back, believe me, I would, but I can't.
So fuck everybody. I'm sick of worrying about people. I'm sick to fucking death of drama and bullshit. I've always told everybody what I think of them. My friends are my friends, period. I've managed to lose all my good friends to either death or idiocy on my part and other's over the last few years, and in my attempts to make new ones I've been devoting myself to them without realizing it wasn't returned. I finally came to the realization today that I was getting fucked over when I was trying to read a blog by someone I considered to be one of my closest buds. My access was blocked and it said that I had to be a "preferred friend" in order to read it. When I contacted said person out of curiosity, thinking my non-classification of "preferred friend" had been a mistake, I was informed that the list of people who could read it was very short and that I wasn't on it, that I wasn't "good" enough of a friend.
I do not understand this bullshit one bit, but I've had enough of it. This is a person who I would have taken a bullet for but yet I'm not worthy of reading the blog. I realize I shouldn't be pissed off about this its only a blog, but that's not the point. I could give two shits less if it was a post telling the world what a terrible person I am (already a well known fact in and of itself) but why classify your friends? Either you're tight, or you're not, there is no in-between. And if there is an in-between I want nothing to do with you because you aren't going to be there if I ever need you. Its a convenience thing really. You're there to make them feel better. If they need a shoulder to cry on or someone to help them do some work they use you like a fucking slave, but as soon as you need the same its "oh, I'm too busy right now, come back later when I have a problem then we'll talk about that instead."
Well you know what, fuck you. I'm going to go back to being the bastard who only cares about what he gets out of it. I've tried putting other people first and it only caused me trouble, worry, and heartache. If you got my back all the time at any time all the time, I got yours. If you want me to hold you up, look elsewhere, I don't fucking need you in my life.
I've been tossing this conundrum around in my head for a couple weeks now and I've come to the conclusion that I've started caring too much. I care what people think of me, what I think of them, and if they like me. This has led to a series of unfortunate events which may have cost me yet another close friend. If I could take it back, believe me, I would, but I can't.
So fuck everybody. I'm sick of worrying about people. I'm sick to fucking death of drama and bullshit. I've always told everybody what I think of them. My friends are my friends, period. I've managed to lose all my good friends to either death or idiocy on my part and other's over the last few years, and in my attempts to make new ones I've been devoting myself to them without realizing it wasn't returned. I finally came to the realization today that I was getting fucked over when I was trying to read a blog by someone I considered to be one of my closest buds. My access was blocked and it said that I had to be a "preferred friend" in order to read it. When I contacted said person out of curiosity, thinking my non-classification of "preferred friend" had been a mistake, I was informed that the list of people who could read it was very short and that I wasn't on it, that I wasn't "good" enough of a friend.
I do not understand this bullshit one bit, but I've had enough of it. This is a person who I would have taken a bullet for but yet I'm not worthy of reading the blog. I realize I shouldn't be pissed off about this its only a blog, but that's not the point. I could give two shits less if it was a post telling the world what a terrible person I am (already a well known fact in and of itself) but why classify your friends? Either you're tight, or you're not, there is no in-between. And if there is an in-between I want nothing to do with you because you aren't going to be there if I ever need you. Its a convenience thing really. You're there to make them feel better. If they need a shoulder to cry on or someone to help them do some work they use you like a fucking slave, but as soon as you need the same its "oh, I'm too busy right now, come back later when I have a problem then we'll talk about that instead."
Well you know what, fuck you. I'm going to go back to being the bastard who only cares about what he gets out of it. I've tried putting other people first and it only caused me trouble, worry, and heartache. If you got my back all the time at any time all the time, I got yours. If you want me to hold you up, look elsewhere, I don't fucking need you in my life.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Wanting God
A hermit was meditating by a river when a young man interrupted him. "Master, I wish to become your disciple," said the man. "Why?" replied the hermit. The young man thought for a moment. "Because I want to find God."
The master jumped up, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, dragged him into the river, and plunged his head under water. After holding him there for a minute, with him kicking and struggling to free himself, the master finally pulled him up out of the river. The young man coughed up water and gasped to get his breath. When he eventually quieted down, the master spoke. "Tell me, what did you want most of all when you were under water."
"Air!" answered the man.
"Very well," said the master. "Go home and come back to me when you want God as much as you just wanted air."
The master jumped up, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, dragged him into the river, and plunged his head under water. After holding him there for a minute, with him kicking and struggling to free himself, the master finally pulled him up out of the river. The young man coughed up water and gasped to get his breath. When he eventually quieted down, the master spoke. "Tell me, what did you want most of all when you were under water."
"Air!" answered the man.
"Very well," said the master. "Go home and come back to me when you want God as much as you just wanted air."
Intro
So, I'm not really sure why I decided to make a blog. Some people do it to report news, others do it to report everything single thing they do in their pathetic little lives, and others use it as yet another scratching post with which to further their woe is me agenda.
Mostly I think that I will be using this to collect the various thoughts and ideas in my head. My mind consists of so much anarchy that I'm not always sure what its thinking. Hope you enjoy my insanity.
Mostly I think that I will be using this to collect the various thoughts and ideas in my head. My mind consists of so much anarchy that I'm not always sure what its thinking. Hope you enjoy my insanity.
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