Long time since the last post...haven't really had anything good to say though. Not a man of few words, just a boy-guy of few meaningful words. Evidence? Read my last post. Blarg. Must've been asleep or sommat...I don't drink, so I can't blame that, sadly.
Point is, if the candy burns your mouth, it's barely sour enough.
But recently, I've been wondering about deepish issues. At least for me...normally, I'm content thinking about food.
So, among those deeper issues is abortion, violence, and cheese soda...I consider that a deep issue. I can't entirely focus my mind on violence and murder without having some negative effect on it. Like wanting to use violence on the murderers.
But mostly, I fall back on the age old question of: Just because I can do something without sin, does that mean I should?
Haven't found the answer yet. Or maybe I have, and don't want to admit it. There's a lot of that particular flu going around right now.
I end with this:
Let's extinguish the anguish for which we're to blame, and save the world from going down in flames.
Or: Let it burn. I'll help pile on the fuel.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
An unorthodox philosophical point learned through great pain.
Odd title? Odd post. I won't lie to you, I'm about to show off some of my inner insanity...And inner twelve year old.
So...my aunt has cancer in her foot. They're operating on it today, and we're going to head up to the hospital for comfort and support. We have to leave in three and a half hours...and I've not gone to sleep yet. I can't. All because of...a gas bubble in my gut. XD
It's rather funny, really. Though the fact that my stomach is swelling up like a balloon and pressing against my back, stomach and internal organs is rather cool.
Or, one of those nasty movie moments where the alien busts out of my gut is about to happen. "Busting a gut" has new connotations.
Either way, I got to thinking (always dangeresque): It's all my fault, really. I accidentally added about two and a half tablespoons of Savinas pepper, a wicked seasoning far, FAR, hotter than your normal red pepper. The stuff clotted and poured out onto the raw beef on it's own...meh.
So. The cause of my pain, is my own self. I cooked the meat, I ate it. No one else is to blame. I am my own worst enemy. I could've made a sammich. XD I've had stomach issues for the two days since I've eaten it.
So, there's one point. The one person who causes us to fall is our own selves. Others can toss temptation our way (my sister actually bought me the pepper) but I choose to use it and eat it. Er, I choose to give in to temptation, and suffer the consequences. Jesus saved me (and you) from the ultimate punishment for our sins by His blood, but we still face the consequences of our choices on this planet.
So that's point one. Point two is...more uncomfortable. In several ways.
I'd rather be punched in the stomach than have it explode from the inside out, as it currently is. Why? Punch pain fades rather quickly. This will too eventually, but it lasts longer.
There's also a few other...less painful, more nasty side effects. I promise I won't illuminate. You can guess. But it works that way in life too. The sins we commit do not just have a large effect, but "smaller" ones too. Like a pebble tossed into apond grows into larger rings.
So...it appears that the nastiest things come from inside us, not outside. You can punch me in the face, it'll hurt, but it'll fade. I can even block it. But the stuff in my own innards? Not so much. That comes from my own heart, and that's where evil comes from. It's not what goes into me that matters, but what comes out. I can spread anger, filth, or foulness from my heart. Or, with God, I can spread love, joy, and laughter.
The things inside us can hurt others too. In more than the obvious ways in this case. :D Hatred in my heart can lead to murder, covetousness to theft, ETC.
I told you it was unorthodox. To say the least. XD But a valid point, I deem. At least to the 12-15 year old males who would find it as funny as I do. Like when the wise old monkey in the Lion King smacked Simba in the face. That was funny, but also taught him a lesson.
So...my aunt has cancer in her foot. They're operating on it today, and we're going to head up to the hospital for comfort and support. We have to leave in three and a half hours...and I've not gone to sleep yet. I can't. All because of...a gas bubble in my gut. XD
It's rather funny, really. Though the fact that my stomach is swelling up like a balloon and pressing against my back, stomach and internal organs is rather cool.
Or, one of those nasty movie moments where the alien busts out of my gut is about to happen. "Busting a gut" has new connotations.
Either way, I got to thinking (always dangeresque): It's all my fault, really. I accidentally added about two and a half tablespoons of Savinas pepper, a wicked seasoning far, FAR, hotter than your normal red pepper. The stuff clotted and poured out onto the raw beef on it's own...meh.
So. The cause of my pain, is my own self. I cooked the meat, I ate it. No one else is to blame. I am my own worst enemy. I could've made a sammich. XD I've had stomach issues for the two days since I've eaten it.
So, there's one point. The one person who causes us to fall is our own selves. Others can toss temptation our way (my sister actually bought me the pepper) but I choose to use it and eat it. Er, I choose to give in to temptation, and suffer the consequences. Jesus saved me (and you) from the ultimate punishment for our sins by His blood, but we still face the consequences of our choices on this planet.
So that's point one. Point two is...more uncomfortable. In several ways.
I'd rather be punched in the stomach than have it explode from the inside out, as it currently is. Why? Punch pain fades rather quickly. This will too eventually, but it lasts longer.
There's also a few other...less painful, more nasty side effects. I promise I won't illuminate. You can guess. But it works that way in life too. The sins we commit do not just have a large effect, but "smaller" ones too. Like a pebble tossed into apond grows into larger rings.
So...it appears that the nastiest things come from inside us, not outside. You can punch me in the face, it'll hurt, but it'll fade. I can even block it. But the stuff in my own innards? Not so much. That comes from my own heart, and that's where evil comes from. It's not what goes into me that matters, but what comes out. I can spread anger, filth, or foulness from my heart. Or, with God, I can spread love, joy, and laughter.
The things inside us can hurt others too. In more than the obvious ways in this case. :D Hatred in my heart can lead to murder, covetousness to theft, ETC.
I told you it was unorthodox. To say the least. XD But a valid point, I deem. At least to the 12-15 year old males who would find it as funny as I do. Like when the wise old monkey in the Lion King smacked Simba in the face. That was funny, but also taught him a lesson.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
A Heavy Hearted Work of Staggering Genius.
For the record, the title is not me being horrendously vain. XD It's a song from Anberlin. Actually, both the songs referenced were...and Reading them, I realize how horrible they sound. I promise they aren't dirty, they make sense when listened to in their entirety. "Audrey, Start the Revolution" and "Dance dance Crista Paffgan".
The events in this post actually happened with little embellishment. No artists were hurt in the making of this post. One dugong was slightly injured in the playground scene. We warned it not to do the monkey bars.
First I gather the supplies. Three sheets of construction paper, no, four. Two white...cream? I dunno what the color is. Two of them, one red, one blue. The blue is nearly purple, perhaps cerulean. It'll work. Grab the glue stick and a red marker while I'm digging around in the craft basket.
Next, a needle. The ribbon threader needle is still up in my room from my last project, but I think I need a smaller--
*freeze*...were those steps? I shake my head, just my imagination. Pay attention. I search among the sew box looking for a needle of appropriate size. Shouldn't this be called a sewing box? But no, the box doesn't sew!
Focus. Needle...there, perfect size. Next, scissors. Should have gotten those from the kitchen while I was in there. Either way, orange handled scissors should be in the junk drawer. Wondering why the marker in my hand has no name on it, it's just red. It aggravates me. Pull the broken drawer out, and grab the scissors, passing over the kitchen shears for being to rough for this kind of work. They'll work, but the orange ones are much more to your liking.
Turn and look around for your...there! My cup of choco style milk. The burn mah face off foodage you ate for supper will be no match for this creamy treat.
I gather my supplies and head upstairs, setting them on my desk when I reach my room. I sip the milk. I can stack the paper up with some glue to create a thicker card, and trim the layers to create multiple colors. Cool.
Walking across the hallway, I talk to my mom for a bit. Talk about what type of fish you want in your tank. Probably bettas. I tell her I'm working on a project in my room, and not to come in. Wonder what she thinks I'm doing? Probably something I shouldn't. That's OK.
Return to my room, sit down at your desk. Open up your Zune media playah and select your ultimate playlist. Briefly you consider whether or not to listen to favorites only...no, randomnity is the spice of life. Of course you remember that too much spice caused you much pain at supper, and will likely case more later.
Ultimate playlist it is.
First outline what you're planning on. Top of page will say "HAPPY" in those thick letters. Middle will say "Mom", but with a heart in it in place of an O. Below that, a large sized "DAY". Wonder if "HAPPEH" would work? No, it'd likely be badly received.
Hmm...blue on top, middle red, blue bottom. Sounds good. Cut out the letters, and the heart, but use marker for the M's. Blue Happy, Blue Day, red heart. Then sew around the edges to give it a fancy look. Shweet idea. Wonder what I can do for my Dad's birthday?
Focus. Time to measure and cut. In that order. But wait...have to draw carefully so as not to let the pencil lead show. Nice catch.
Oops. One of the blue sides is smaller...that's alright. Just use it at the top.
Carefully glue the red sheet down first. Get the edges, then run some down the middle. OK. Align the edges carefully...bah. slightly off. But better than you'd thought. Next, the blue. Work that glue stick little Jimmy. Make those third graders who really use them proud!
Hmm...still slightly off. Oh well, that's why you didn't go into structural design...yet. But math is not your favorite thing, you love the arts.
Focus...oh! This song is amazing!
If this isn’t love (If this isn’t love)
This is the closest I’ve ever been
Do you think we have a chance tonight?
As streetlights sing on Audrey’s song!
Use the power of the song to complete your art? You. Know. It. Now, focus.
Glue the white sheet on top...nope, need to cut it first. Japanese carvers knife'll work great. Lightly trace the letters with your pencil...good stuff. Try to avoid cutting it twice, because if you don't like it the first time, you definitely won't the second...or something.
Boogers...slipped. ...Doesn't look too bad. Keep cutting, but go slower.
There, "happy" finished. No on to the heart. Flip the page over and trace it on the back. *tracetracetrace*
...schnap. Why is it your hearts always look better on one side than the other. Hmm...perhaps a nice deep thought. Expound on it later, you will, maybe.
CAN YOU NOT FOCUS?!?!
...Sorry. Cut the heart out, then draw the "day" extra big. Done. That came out nicely. Keep the extra pieces to glue back in place for the letters with hole's. Glue the white piece on top with care. Slide the glue stick around the edges, and the middle...oops. Will the heart now have glue upon it?
Is that...yes, that song too, rocks. Take a moment to pay attention.
...
Your black dress in disarray
Only dance floor prayers can save {you}
But it's you that's coursing through my veins
Don't need no drugs, you're my chemical
Now I'm dependent, swear I'm clinical
Addicted to those glances, taking chances tonight
I need a fix in those heroin eyes
Don't need no drugs, you're my chemical
Now I'm dependent, no not cynical
Addicted to those glances, taking chances tonight
I need a fix in those heroin eyes
Now, write out your message on the card. Rather nice, you search the air for another word to add...Screen saver pops up "Strong Beer. Wow this stuff tastes good!" Not a message you'd normally approve of, but it's Strong Bad related. Strong. That'll be great!
Oh schnap. The card was the wrong way when glued. Red paper is poking out at the top of the D.
Take a long pull off the choco milk, sit back and sigh. Can you fix it? Not likely. You'd have to remake the card. Marker? No...best hope no one notices. Can't make anything perfect anyway. Out of your grasp. Even on Guitar Hero the meter rarely hit's 100%.
Now you have to sew. The small needle nearly bends when pushed through the paper, the thread is too thick to go on it anyway, being red cotton yarn. The knife will cut holes then you'll push the ribbon needle through. Do a looped stitch for fanciness.
Drill holes with the knife, sew it up. Sew around the heart too. Doing patternized stitches in the bottom and the top. There...looks nice. Aside from the mistakes.
Open the door and look outside. Mum's in bed. Walk downstairs, lay the card against the lamp. Nope, forgot your signature. Run back up the stairs, grab a guitar pick...a red one. It's one of your favorites, but you like it that way. Adding the guitar pick makes it apparent that not only have you spent time on the home made card, you've also put something you love into it. Or so you think. No need to sign your name either, or get yelled at for not signing it. Glue stick makes it's way into your pocket leaving the room.
Grab the card as you pass the lamp, flip it, glue it, and stick the pick in the middle of the heart on the back. Carefully set it down, pick side up. ...Hope mom likes it.
So that's how I maded my Mummy a card. <3
The events in this post actually happened with little embellishment. No artists were hurt in the making of this post. One dugong was slightly injured in the playground scene. We warned it not to do the monkey bars.
First I gather the supplies. Three sheets of construction paper, no, four. Two white...cream? I dunno what the color is. Two of them, one red, one blue. The blue is nearly purple, perhaps cerulean. It'll work. Grab the glue stick and a red marker while I'm digging around in the craft basket.
Next, a needle. The ribbon threader needle is still up in my room from my last project, but I think I need a smaller--
*freeze*...were those steps? I shake my head, just my imagination. Pay attention. I search among the sew box looking for a needle of appropriate size. Shouldn't this be called a sewing box? But no, the box doesn't sew!
Focus. Needle...there, perfect size. Next, scissors. Should have gotten those from the kitchen while I was in there. Either way, orange handled scissors should be in the junk drawer. Wondering why the marker in my hand has no name on it, it's just red. It aggravates me. Pull the broken drawer out, and grab the scissors, passing over the kitchen shears for being to rough for this kind of work. They'll work, but the orange ones are much more to your liking.
Turn and look around for your...there! My cup of choco style milk. The burn mah face off foodage you ate for supper will be no match for this creamy treat.
I gather my supplies and head upstairs, setting them on my desk when I reach my room. I sip the milk. I can stack the paper up with some glue to create a thicker card, and trim the layers to create multiple colors. Cool.
Walking across the hallway, I talk to my mom for a bit. Talk about what type of fish you want in your tank. Probably bettas. I tell her I'm working on a project in my room, and not to come in. Wonder what she thinks I'm doing? Probably something I shouldn't. That's OK.
Return to my room, sit down at your desk. Open up your Zune media playah and select your ultimate playlist. Briefly you consider whether or not to listen to favorites only...no, randomnity is the spice of life. Of course you remember that too much spice caused you much pain at supper, and will likely case more later.
Ultimate playlist it is.
First outline what you're planning on. Top of page will say "HAPPY" in those thick letters. Middle will say "Mom", but with a heart in it in place of an O. Below that, a large sized "DAY". Wonder if "HAPPEH" would work? No, it'd likely be badly received.
Hmm...blue on top, middle red, blue bottom. Sounds good. Cut out the letters, and the heart, but use marker for the M's. Blue Happy, Blue Day, red heart. Then sew around the edges to give it a fancy look. Shweet idea. Wonder what I can do for my Dad's birthday?
Focus. Time to measure and cut. In that order. But wait...have to draw carefully so as not to let the pencil lead show. Nice catch.
Oops. One of the blue sides is smaller...that's alright. Just use it at the top.
Carefully glue the red sheet down first. Get the edges, then run some down the middle. OK. Align the edges carefully...bah. slightly off. But better than you'd thought. Next, the blue. Work that glue stick little Jimmy. Make those third graders who really use them proud!
Hmm...still slightly off. Oh well, that's why you didn't go into structural design...yet. But math is not your favorite thing, you love the arts.
Focus...oh! This song is amazing!
If this isn’t love (If this isn’t love)
This is the closest I’ve ever been
Do you think we have a chance tonight?
As streetlights sing on Audrey’s song!
Use the power of the song to complete your art? You. Know. It. Now, focus.
Glue the white sheet on top...nope, need to cut it first. Japanese carvers knife'll work great. Lightly trace the letters with your pencil...good stuff. Try to avoid cutting it twice, because if you don't like it the first time, you definitely won't the second...or something.
Boogers...slipped. ...Doesn't look too bad. Keep cutting, but go slower.
There, "happy" finished. No on to the heart. Flip the page over and trace it on the back. *tracetracetrace*
...schnap. Why is it your hearts always look better on one side than the other. Hmm...perhaps a nice deep thought. Expound on it later, you will, maybe.
CAN YOU NOT FOCUS?!?!
...Sorry. Cut the heart out, then draw the "day" extra big. Done. That came out nicely. Keep the extra pieces to glue back in place for the letters with hole's. Glue the white piece on top with care. Slide the glue stick around the edges, and the middle...oops. Will the heart now have glue upon it?
Is that...yes, that song too, rocks. Take a moment to pay attention.
...
Your black dress in disarray
Only dance floor prayers can save {you}
But it's you that's coursing through my veins
Don't need no drugs, you're my chemical
Now I'm dependent, swear I'm clinical
Addicted to those glances, taking chances tonight
I need a fix in those heroin eyes
Don't need no drugs, you're my chemical
Now I'm dependent, no not cynical
Addicted to those glances, taking chances tonight
I need a fix in those heroin eyes
Now, write out your message on the card. Rather nice, you search the air for another word to add...Screen saver pops up "Strong Beer. Wow this stuff tastes good!" Not a message you'd normally approve of, but it's Strong Bad related. Strong. That'll be great!
Oh schnap. The card was the wrong way when glued. Red paper is poking out at the top of the D.
Take a long pull off the choco milk, sit back and sigh. Can you fix it? Not likely. You'd have to remake the card. Marker? No...best hope no one notices. Can't make anything perfect anyway. Out of your grasp. Even on Guitar Hero the meter rarely hit's 100%.
Now you have to sew. The small needle nearly bends when pushed through the paper, the thread is too thick to go on it anyway, being red cotton yarn. The knife will cut holes then you'll push the ribbon needle through. Do a looped stitch for fanciness.
Drill holes with the knife, sew it up. Sew around the heart too. Doing patternized stitches in the bottom and the top. There...looks nice. Aside from the mistakes.
Open the door and look outside. Mum's in bed. Walk downstairs, lay the card against the lamp. Nope, forgot your signature. Run back up the stairs, grab a guitar pick...a red one. It's one of your favorites, but you like it that way. Adding the guitar pick makes it apparent that not only have you spent time on the home made card, you've also put something you love into it. Or so you think. No need to sign your name either, or get yelled at for not signing it. Glue stick makes it's way into your pocket leaving the room.
Grab the card as you pass the lamp, flip it, glue it, and stick the pick in the middle of the heart on the back. Carefully set it down, pick side up. ...Hope mom likes it.
So that's how I maded my Mummy a card. <3
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
The Return of the King.
OK. So here's an awesome story:
A king, from ancient lineage, springs up from nowhere. For years, he had been protecting and defending his kingdom in secret, and as such, was older than most. His coming had been told among stories for years by those who knew them, but few people believed in the olden stories anymore.
Then "BAM!", out of legend, he springs to life.
Bearing an ancient sword once broken, but now remade, he comes from out of the shadows to strive for mastery. Wielding shining blade, and commanding an army of the dead, he goes to war with the kingdom of darkness. Eventually, he wins, and welcomes a new kingdom of prosperity and joy. <3
Pretty cool, huh? It's one of my favorites. Gives you that "epic" feel. And it's familiar to you, I'm sure. Actually...I pulled that straight from...Revelation?!
OK. So some of that was from other parts of the bible too. And I did my best to make it sound like Tolkien. Because he allegoried'd it in a manner so fine.
But it's surprising to me how many people scream the apocalypse is coming, spread fear, and yet miss the entire point. Then again, I live amongst Baptists. :D
Revelation isn't literature about the apocalypse; it's the story of the culmination of a story. The final chapter of the greatest story ever told, in other words. And it doesn't end in flame and brimstone, as so many seem to infer. It ends in shining light, glory abounding, and stuff I can't even wrap my mind around. A fairytale ending. How great is that?
True, death will abound. It's the King fighting for His kingdom, after all. Enemies won't be left alive to regain strength; they're to be destroyed. Forever. And calamities that, at times, strike fear into my heart will break fourth from the vials of God's wrath and be poured onto this planet. Scary.
But those throughout history who have given their lives for Christ, those who have loved Him, those who choose to make an enemy of this world, those who serve the King, will rise and live forever in joy. That "army of the dead" I was talking aboot.
Which is dirty EPIC. XD
I wonder if I'll have died by then...I dunno. Maybe not. Don't think it matters. Either way, I expect it'll blow my mind. The herald of the King will shout, sound a note that will speak to all hearts, either with joy or terror, and those who serve will rise form the grave to kneel at the feet of the Forever King.
Best ending ever? Oh yes, I think so. Even the music is taken care of!
So here's to getting a clear understanding of Revelation. And looking forward to the battle of Armageddon. That may just be me, though...The idea of being an undead warrior has always appealed to me, even though it'll only be for a short time. An undead servant of the King is just as good.
A king, from ancient lineage, springs up from nowhere. For years, he had been protecting and defending his kingdom in secret, and as such, was older than most. His coming had been told among stories for years by those who knew them, but few people believed in the olden stories anymore.
Then "BAM!", out of legend, he springs to life.
Bearing an ancient sword once broken, but now remade, he comes from out of the shadows to strive for mastery. Wielding shining blade, and commanding an army of the dead, he goes to war with the kingdom of darkness. Eventually, he wins, and welcomes a new kingdom of prosperity and joy. <3
Pretty cool, huh? It's one of my favorites. Gives you that "epic" feel. And it's familiar to you, I'm sure. Actually...I pulled that straight from...Revelation?!
OK. So some of that was from other parts of the bible too. And I did my best to make it sound like Tolkien. Because he allegoried'd it in a manner so fine.
But it's surprising to me how many people scream the apocalypse is coming, spread fear, and yet miss the entire point. Then again, I live amongst Baptists. :D
Revelation isn't literature about the apocalypse; it's the story of the culmination of a story. The final chapter of the greatest story ever told, in other words. And it doesn't end in flame and brimstone, as so many seem to infer. It ends in shining light, glory abounding, and stuff I can't even wrap my mind around. A fairytale ending. How great is that?
True, death will abound. It's the King fighting for His kingdom, after all. Enemies won't be left alive to regain strength; they're to be destroyed. Forever. And calamities that, at times, strike fear into my heart will break fourth from the vials of God's wrath and be poured onto this planet. Scary.
But those throughout history who have given their lives for Christ, those who have loved Him, those who choose to make an enemy of this world, those who serve the King, will rise and live forever in joy. That "army of the dead" I was talking aboot.
Which is dirty EPIC. XD
I wonder if I'll have died by then...I dunno. Maybe not. Don't think it matters. Either way, I expect it'll blow my mind. The herald of the King will shout, sound a note that will speak to all hearts, either with joy or terror, and those who serve will rise form the grave to kneel at the feet of the Forever King.
Best ending ever? Oh yes, I think so. Even the music is taken care of!
So here's to getting a clear understanding of Revelation. And looking forward to the battle of Armageddon. That may just be me, though...The idea of being an undead warrior has always appealed to me, even though it'll only be for a short time. An undead servant of the King is just as good.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Wonderful oddities.
Sometimes, I can't help but laugh out of joy. The mind blowing wonders and works of God.
How wonderful is it that in letting Himself be struck down by evil, my King slashed so great a wound into its heart, that it will never recover?
That the perfect Son, Heir to the throne of the ages, took the punishment for the beggars sins?
The fact that the Ultimate Power and Authority in any universe is crushed when His nation turns it's back on Him? (Ezekiel 6:9, for the reference.)
Every drop of blood spilled on that cross should have been mine. Every scream of pain is what I deserved. Yet out of love, He took my place.
How wonderful is it that in letting Himself be struck down by evil, my King slashed so great a wound into its heart, that it will never recover?
That the perfect Son, Heir to the throne of the ages, took the punishment for the beggars sins?
The fact that the Ultimate Power and Authority in any universe is crushed when His nation turns it's back on Him? (Ezekiel 6:9, for the reference.)
Every drop of blood spilled on that cross should have been mine. Every scream of pain is what I deserved. Yet out of love, He took my place.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
It's been like...16 days, man.
Long time. And sadly, I really have nothing good to say even now. I mean, I had an epiphany of sorts last week...but that's normal. Lot's to learn, and all. It'd be odd not to have one.
I did learn how to make yo-yo strings using Youtube. And consequentially, hurt my arm yo-yo-ing. Good times.
Is there a hyphen in yo-yo?
I also started rewriting some of my musical stuff (AKA: Those songs I mentioned way back in my first post), and stumbled upon my rock opera. Which isn't bad, but I've only got one part finished. I've added music to two of my songs now. ^_^ Which brings my two year total to...three. Wow. Industrious. But one of those I am badly ashamed of. It needs be rewritten or burninated now.
I also discovered that, once upon a time, I wrote some political songs. Yeah, I know. So original. But one of those is actually funny. I can say with pride that it's better than those chain e-mails you get. Or I get. I hope I'm not the only one getting those...but my family does love politics. Pleh. Anyway, the song is funny. Though it does insult only one particular politician, and not all of them, which I think is necessary.
I figure that places me amongst the anarchists, or emo kids. I'm cool with that. Though I don't wear make-up. Yet.
Must've been written during election season, though...I got sick of politicians and their annoyingly rabid followers quite rapidly during, and after that horrid time. Normally, the "I hate politics" feeling, makes people pull that nose-in-the-air "I'm too good for this politik" card, and rail against those who do care. Making them seem just as bad.
Not me. Instead of pulling the politically apathetic (EP) card, I pulled another card from the deck of emotion. The "Wow. I'm so sick of this, I think I'd rather swallow my own chilled vomit than listen to you, vote for you, or support anyone by the name of politician" card currently resides up my sleeve.
And barf is one thing...chilled barf is another. Just the thought makes me nauseated.
Perhaps I'll put up one of those songs on here. Nothing get's people more riled up than insulting their politician of choice.
Or, in other words, "Nothing get's people more upset than insulting some corrupt dude with a power complex whom they've never met, and likely never will meet, and who they place hopes and dreams upon which said human can never fulfill, and so failure is imminent".
I...don't understand politics...The worse part is, since they will fail, WHINING is also imminent. Pleh, X2.
I do know that it's easy to build people into a rage using politics though. And that information is so fun to have in my pocket.
I did learn how to make yo-yo strings using Youtube. And consequentially, hurt my arm yo-yo-ing. Good times.
Is there a hyphen in yo-yo?
I also started rewriting some of my musical stuff (AKA: Those songs I mentioned way back in my first post), and stumbled upon my rock opera. Which isn't bad, but I've only got one part finished. I've added music to two of my songs now. ^_^ Which brings my two year total to...three. Wow. Industrious. But one of those I am badly ashamed of. It needs be rewritten or burninated now.
I also discovered that, once upon a time, I wrote some political songs. Yeah, I know. So original. But one of those is actually funny. I can say with pride that it's better than those chain e-mails you get. Or I get. I hope I'm not the only one getting those...but my family does love politics. Pleh. Anyway, the song is funny. Though it does insult only one particular politician, and not all of them, which I think is necessary.
I figure that places me amongst the anarchists, or emo kids. I'm cool with that. Though I don't wear make-up. Yet.
Must've been written during election season, though...I got sick of politicians and their annoyingly rabid followers quite rapidly during, and after that horrid time. Normally, the "I hate politics" feeling, makes people pull that nose-in-the-air "I'm too good for this politik" card, and rail against those who do care. Making them seem just as bad.
Not me. Instead of pulling the politically apathetic (EP) card, I pulled another card from the deck of emotion. The "Wow. I'm so sick of this, I think I'd rather swallow my own chilled vomit than listen to you, vote for you, or support anyone by the name of politician" card currently resides up my sleeve.
And barf is one thing...chilled barf is another. Just the thought makes me nauseated.
Perhaps I'll put up one of those songs on here. Nothing get's people more riled up than insulting their politician of choice.
Or, in other words, "Nothing get's people more upset than insulting some corrupt dude with a power complex whom they've never met, and likely never will meet, and who they place hopes and dreams upon which said human can never fulfill, and so failure is imminent".
I...don't understand politics...The worse part is, since they will fail, WHINING is also imminent. Pleh, X2.
I do know that it's easy to build people into a rage using politics though. And that information is so fun to have in my pocket.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Agitar bein!
Words of advice to follow all your life.
It's the Spanish words under "shake well" on my juice box. I'm assuming it means something similar, though who honestly knows? I often wonder if it says something else...
Yes. I'm drinking a juice box. Or carton. 64 ounces of allegedly passion fruit flavored juice. One wonders who I, inept at love, can so enjoy something called "passion fruit". Not that passion=love. It was just a joke.
Love would be a good thing to post on sometime. But I'll leave that hanging in the air in some ominous fashion. Sword of Damocles, and all.
This post is shaping up to be something seemingly written under the influence of something. I promise I'm not. It's not even the weekend.
Can someone explain to me how I can continue to enjoy a game that literally terrifies me? We're not talking weeping on the floor for my mommy terror, more "wake up screaming in terror", terror. It's caused dreams that woke me up in fear, only unable to go back to sleep.
And yet I like it. The Resident evil games have given me dreams, but honestly, waking up inside a monster filled mansion or mall of terror is a dream, not a nightmare. Many other "nightmare" monsters have appeared in my dreams, and except for a zombie cat, I enjoyed all of them.
I will not speak to you of the zombie cat.
Once, I was Leon Kennedy fighting of one of those giant monsters in RE4 with only a knife. That was cool. Gordon Freemen vs headcrab zombies? Equally cool. Trapped inside of a mall with flaming explosions and a zombie horde? Coolness over 9...nevermind.
But this particular game is none of those. And, oddly, I've never even seen that zombie movie with the mall.
The idea of being trapped underground with unknown horror's, no weapons, and pitch darkness is frightening enough. But add my twisted mind + sugar + whatever weird junk I ate before bed = nightmares that were mind numbingly terrifying.
On the mirror side of things, even the best dream is far more terrifying than any nightmare I've ever had.
The game would be the Penumbra series, and for the record, they're only freakish. All fear inspired thus is from my own dreams.
I recommend the games. Try the demo.
It's the Spanish words under "shake well" on my juice box. I'm assuming it means something similar, though who honestly knows? I often wonder if it says something else...
Yes. I'm drinking a juice box. Or carton. 64 ounces of allegedly passion fruit flavored juice. One wonders who I, inept at love, can so enjoy something called "passion fruit". Not that passion=love. It was just a joke.
Love would be a good thing to post on sometime. But I'll leave that hanging in the air in some ominous fashion. Sword of Damocles, and all.
This post is shaping up to be something seemingly written under the influence of something. I promise I'm not. It's not even the weekend.
Can someone explain to me how I can continue to enjoy a game that literally terrifies me? We're not talking weeping on the floor for my mommy terror, more "wake up screaming in terror", terror. It's caused dreams that woke me up in fear, only unable to go back to sleep.
And yet I like it. The Resident evil games have given me dreams, but honestly, waking up inside a monster filled mansion or mall of terror is a dream, not a nightmare. Many other "nightmare" monsters have appeared in my dreams, and except for a zombie cat, I enjoyed all of them.
I will not speak to you of the zombie cat.
Once, I was Leon Kennedy fighting of one of those giant monsters in RE4 with only a knife. That was cool. Gordon Freemen vs headcrab zombies? Equally cool. Trapped inside of a mall with flaming explosions and a zombie horde? Coolness over 9...nevermind.
But this particular game is none of those. And, oddly, I've never even seen that zombie movie with the mall.
The idea of being trapped underground with unknown horror's, no weapons, and pitch darkness is frightening enough. But add my twisted mind + sugar + whatever weird junk I ate before bed = nightmares that were mind numbingly terrifying.
On the mirror side of things, even the best dream is far more terrifying than any nightmare I've ever had.
The game would be the Penumbra series, and for the record, they're only freakish. All fear inspired thus is from my own dreams.
I recommend the games. Try the demo.
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