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I was once asked if I believed in a sixth sense. I asked for a definition of one, and if we were to define a sense as an external stimuli acting upon one's body which then results in nervous (as in nervous system) signals being sent through the spinal cord and possibly the brain, then no, I don't believe so. I think we are limited to the five senses: touch, taste, sound, sight and smell. However, if you're to take a sense as something more figurative, then I'd have to throw a sixth one in there. But this one isn't with all people, just how not all people have sight or sound. This one's much more rare. It's intellect. Although everyone has the capacity to think, not everyone has intellect as a sixth sense. Why do I call it a sense? I've had too many people ask me, Why do you think that, or How do you know that? I always found it a silly question, I just know. Has anyone asked why do you see whatever it is you see? Or How do you know you're really smelling cake? Well, yes, if you wanted a biological reason, but never a philosophical one. (Unless you're an angsty teenager.) With me, a lot of my thought processes aren't a product of deep and intensive thinking, but rather, they come as naturally to me as the feel of skin. Most everything I think is done that way, and develops over time the more it stays in my head, just as I can see more the longer I stare at an object. So for me, yeah, I have a sixth sense. But can intuition and foresight be seen as a sixth sense as well? Well, sure, I suppose they can, but everyone has those, and it's not really important. Foresight and intuition are a by-product of experience and the capacity to think, so we could just use the latter two to really help understand the kind of people we deal with.
On a side note, and completely irrelevant to this conversation, in fact, quite subtle and perhaps incomprehensible: I once said you have it, and I know myself I was lying, but I didn't want to seem exclusive. Now, the more I read, the more I realize you're far from it after all. It's quite conventional what you do, the sad thing is you could be better than that, but you can't see just beyond the horizon. You're the kind that sees the trees behind the houses, but the trees are all you know of. You could probably be an author, like those Canadian authors that I hate so much: Margaret Laurence, Jane Urquhaurt, or whatever. Have fun with that.
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Stolen, shamefully, from CAITLIN. ![[info]](http://library.vu.edu.pk/cgi-bin/nph-proxy.cgi/000100A/http/web.archive.org/web/20040605073725im_/http:/=2fstat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) duelingmidnightThirteen random things you like: 01) Food 02) Cameras 03) Sex 04) Kurt Vonnegut!! 05) Desiree! 06) Guitar 07) Pink Floyd and The Doors. 08) Words. 09) Humour, the harsher the better. 10) Dead babies and aborted fetii. 11) My website, shameless plug, http://www.abortedchild.com12) tattoos 13) DEATH CAKE!! (Cho.) Twelve movies: 01) Fight Club 02) Snatch 04) Usual Suspects 05) Kill Bill Vols 1/2 06) Pulp Fiction 07) Reservoir Dogs 08) Seven 09) Scarface 10) Requiem for a Dream 11) Donnie Darko 12) American Beauty Eleven good bands/artists: 01) The Postal Service (agreed.) 02) The Doors 03) Pink Floyd 04) SOAD. 05) The White Stripes 07) Velvet Underground (agreed again.) 08) The Cure 09) A Perfect Circle 10) The Tragically Hip 11) DJ Failure Ten things about you ... physically: 01) I have a penis. 02) My hair is too long 03) I'm thin. 04) Size 13 feet. 05) I have back pain, often. 06) I cannot smile with my teeth. 07) My nose and ears are big 08) My eyes are light brown. 09) My bum is there. 10) My torso is claimed. Nine good friends: 01) Desi. 02) Shanon 03) Caitlin 04) Your Mom 05) My brother 06) Sorry, i ran out. 07) 08) 09) Eight favorite foods/drinks: 01) Shrimp on pasta 02) Pad Thai!! 03) Nutella 04) Ice Capps 05) Funnel Cakes!! 06) Kit Kat 07) Japanese food that Des gets. 08) Subs. Seven things you wear daily: 01) my osiris shoes! 02) my pants! 03) my underwear! 04) my lipstick! 05) my t-shirt! 06) my socks! 07) my heart on my sleeve. oh deep. Six things that annoy you: 01) stupid people. 02) stupid people. 03) doing the laundry 04) religion 05) bush. 06) hunger. (mine not the world's) Five things you touch everyday: 01) Myself. 02) My car 03) My toothbrush 04) My bed. 05) My computer Four shows you watch: 01) Simpsons 02) Spongebob 03) Futurama 04) Family Guy Three celebrities you have a crush on: 01) Brad Pitt 02) Edward Norton 03) Sir Sean Connery. Shekshy. Two people on lj that you have kissed 01) Desiree 02) Dave. I mean Dominique. No, no. I meant Dave. One person you could spend the rest of your life with 01) Des. Unless she was dead. Then, you know..I'd do away with her ashes somehow. Maybe I'd make a garden out of it.
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It seems to me that if I were to draw a line to establish a relationship between the quality of my posts and the proximity of the idiocy of others, there would be a straight line coming from my foot and going up your ass.
Looks like I'm working all week at Wonderland, as well as Grad Night. Hooray. I get to entertain 17 and 18 year-old jerk-offs who think they're bigshots because they got out of highschool. Most of these kids probably only know one thing about highschool and that is that it is aptly named.
Girls at Jet Scream complain too much about the restrains. Wah Wah I can't breathe. Wah Wah my breasts hurt. Wah Wah I wish I never had those surgical implants at the age of thirteen. You know what I told one of them? "If you can't breathe, you wouldn't be able to talk, and you're talking just fine."
That didn't even shut her up. I can't believe she didn't shut up. That was the best line, but all she did was go Wah Wah Wah. So I ignored her, pushed the big green button and 'forgot' to lock her restrains. *
* Note, I didn't really forget to lock anyone's restraints, nor would I, despite my lack of compassion towards them. As well, I may or may not be a real employee of the park, and my views do not express the views of the park at all. All in all, if you take this seriously, then you should be fired, not me.
POST ENTRY NOWq1%#@!$!!!!
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I've been spending my days at home in the manner expected of anyone who stays at home during the day: I watched Jerry Springer. Jerry said something very thoughful today, believe it or not, he told us how the only thing more ridiculous than a talk show is to expect a talk show to be anything more than a television show. That's right, television has no therapeutic capability, it doesn't have the ability to mend broken hearts, to bring people together, or to pull them apart. Television does one thing and it does it exceptionnaly well. It sells advertisers our time. It's an interesting transaction between us and television, we buy their entertainment for the low cost of our time, and perhaps a monthly bill. Nothing on TV is meant to reflect any sort of standard of reality, even the news fails at bringing us objective truths. Anyone who really cares about the news doesn't watch television, they read it in a newspaper. TV will give you a dumbed down, action-packed snippet of what's really going on out there, because we simply don't have the patience for an otherwise intelligent discussion. If it isn't entertaining, it won't sell. That's why reality tv shows are not based on reality at all, but are very meticulously planned. No one would a watch a tv show about my life, nor about yours. Television is plastic reality, with candy-coated dreams. We can learn a lot from television. Especially concerning decency. I've cracked my share of aborted baby jokes, involving a great cast of characters, including the hanger, the mother, the placenta and our star, the fetus. I've offended every human being out there at least once, more likely several times. I'll joke about everything that people hold dear, everything people think can never be joked about. "There's nothing funny about dead babies, Pedram. There's nothing funny about leprosy, Pedram." My ass. The world is my playbox. I don't have limits, whether it be placing a picture of a terrorist holding up Nick Berg's head as my MSN icon, or buying the domain http://www.abortedchild.com, there's no reason for me to be a decent individual. There is no 'right' thing to do in this world. There is no 'wrong' thing to do either. Want to know why I don't go out and kill for money? I don't want to spend my time in prison. That's my deterrent. Not a moral fibre in me would stop me from having it easy, and I'm pretty sure most of you hide under the guise of morality when you really are hiding from fear. Does it really feel bad to kill a person? I wouldn't know, but I don't think I'd blink twice. I've seen every Opera show about drunk-drivers. I don't drink and drive often. Not because I'm afraid I might hit a pedestrian. I've considered that -- I'd drive away and hide. I'm more afraid of getting stopped and pulled over and having to spend the next ten years being fucked from behind by a man who calls me Sugar Puff. Human decency? Give me a break. None of us have it. We all make other people feel horrible when it's convenient and there is no consequence. Don't get me wrong, I'm quite glad there is a justice system to protect me from all you other sick fucks out there. But don't expect me to lie, although I expect most of you to lie to me. There's no moral fibre in me. I'd steal from a blind man if no one else is looking if it'll help me pay my credit card bill. You'd think I'm a PC party member with all this jibber-jabber, but I'm not either. I'm a liberal. Not because I believe that everyone should live equally, but because it would benefit me if all the rich people got taxed more. They have money, I don't. Ever seen a rich liberal? A poor conservative? Nope, and you won't. And don't count politicians. They don't believe a word of what they say, they're in it for the pride, power and money that comes with being able to waste everyone else's money. So is there any human decency out there? Won't anyone ever think of the children? Was Mother Theresa the only good person alive? Nah, even that old hag had her own selfish desire to be seen as a woman who sacrificed everything she had. How many dead babies does it take to offend an entire population? About six billion, and counting.
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Bla bla bla bla bla. I'm tired, I've been tired most of the month, as I'm getting up every morning to take my brother to school or daycare or whatnot. Trouble sleeping hasn't been a good thing. And of course I refuse to sleep early, because then I'd have to admit I'm old, and I'd never do that. So looks like it's going to be a diet of coffee and lethargy for me. It's hot in this room. Too hot for my own good. Weekdays are boring, as I sit at home, doing absolutely nothing until I have to pick my brother up. I actually sit around waiting for the mail to come, just so I can check it. Did you know I applied and got approved for an Ebay Creditcard? I didn't, until yesterday. The things I've been doing these past few weeks.. And the laziness that has become a summer ritual for me, and perhaps most of you as well. Well, the laziness will pass when I start working full-time, sometime in June I do believe. Till then, it's just this same old ritual of 9-3 procrastinating, except it's not procrastination if you've got nothing else to do. Maybe I'll shave tomorrow. I feel like a meth addict. I'm jittery like a june bug. My fingers will just fly around the keyboard, hit the mouse, move the mouse around, for no reason, then come back to the keyboard, just to keep things interesting. If you'd like to listen to some nice music, have some of this : http://64.236.34.161:80/stream/8022 I find it nice. You'll need Winamp for that to go through, just hit the open location on Winamp, and there you go, ambient electronica. Or should I have said Voila? Life would be nicer if it was digital. All those backspaces, and undos...even a ctrl-alt-delete if you've really fucked up your life. My underwear is on backwards. Maybe one could wear life backwards. No, one can't. Who needs drugs, the most natural way to feel out of your head is just being amnesic for a week. Amensic, is that a word? No, it's not. I need a shower, I feel like ick. I can't type anything of consequence anymore. It's all just crap. So much fucking crap. What happened. I don't know, but maybe it's a lack of drugs. Perhaps I'll pop a pill or two. A little Sodium Chloride never hurt anyone, unless you're in freshwater, then you go belly-up. My goldfish seems to love me. Everytime I walk in the kitchen, he swims right up to the glass and hits his face to the bowl. Wags his stupid tail around over. Then I feed him and he cautiously takes bites at some of the flakes, waits for me to leave, then eats the rest. A goldfish does all that. What a strange thing. You can call it classical conditioning, as if that theory is innate in nature, however, I rather just observe it as it is, and note that goldfish are strange. Do goldfish love? One will never know.
Status of synaptic response::  drained
Sound entering ears: : Xerxes - Ventil
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Cuss them eyes. Cuz toe my'z Customise The english language to suit your needs! For only $9.95 I will reword everything you say and make it say what you really want to say: Satisfied customers? Of course we have them!! Ex 1) I used to go to work everyday and tell people that I was fine everytime my co-workers would ask me how I was! With Pedram's amazing new device called the Truth-Extractomatic(TM) I am now able to tell people that I feel horrible and that I want to kill myself! I'm now on disability, collecting wages from the government. God bless you Pedram! - Nancy Goodall, Ward Seven, Greater Toronto Area Hospital for the Mentally Lacking Ex 2) I used to tell my girlfriend I loved her everytime we had sex, but once I got hooked on Pedram's Truth-Extractomatic(TM) I was finally able to let her know all I really wanted was a nice long fuck! Ever since, we've only been having sex, because it turns out that's exactly what she wanted too! I'm glad I bought two! Thank you Pedram! - Bill and Ophelia Wang. Ex 3) Sure, it was easy for me to climb the corporate ladder by kissing lots of ass, but once I bought Pedram's Truth-Extractomatic(TM) I no longer had the taste of corporate-cum in my mouth! I was washed clean, and washed up! Thank YOU, Pedram! -Crazy Guy downtown that tells us when we will die. See? So Easy! So Fast! So Fun! Give it a shot today, I guarantee you won't be disappointed, or you will!!
Status of synaptic response:: fourty-nine.
Sound entering ears: : "pedram the second-coming is near, prepare the rifle."
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 people are annoyed. Do you like Engrish? Then you will love this!! Astalavista's Babel Fish Translation service Do this: English to Japanese to English.. Get crazy, hilarious sayings like: I kill the baby where hundred die concerning 1 hour. I the German way am extremeness effective. From: I kill a hundred dead babies per hour. I am super-efficient, like German. Instead of: Oh no! There appears to be a giant monster headed our way! He will trample all that is in his way. Perhaps we should fill our stereotypical roles by taking pictures and then running like madmen and women. We get: No of Ohio state! It seems like the enormous monster of our methods there of taking the lead! As for him everything which is that method trample. Perhaps, we the thing which takes the photograph and like the demonian and the woman should satisfy our stale roles running by. And Orwell's Politics and Language, In Engrish: The fight for bad English being frivolous or, it is not exclusive worry of the special writer, the sea urchin. I presently return in this, the fact that to that time of the thing which I said here meaning becomes clearer is desired. When at that time, that now is written always here, there are five specimens of English simultaneously. As for these 5 these roads when I choose, but being especially to be bad, -- where it is not chosen I am much worse, -- perhaps it quoted, being the spiritual badness where we now suffer to explain variously. Those below average are small, is, but considerably it is typical example. I when being necessary, in order for I to be able to refer to those, mark number to those: [...] Modification does not have to be sounded, touching do do, the line because of cudgel with the toe, in the hand day, the weak point and swan song, to come to the plant where it picks with the water where the order of hotbed is bothered, divide and being on a par, ax of the coldhearted excess and, the play in standpoint in order to pull, ride. These large number "to be cut off and be, or meaning (what, without knowledge compare, between" the fool. And the incompatible metaphor where) it is used, is mixed the secure sign in he saying frequently, the writer there is no interest. Now of a certain metaphor the flow was twisted the people who use those which become aware from meaning withouth of the origin for fact. For example, touching do with the line toe as the traction which occasionally has been written the line. Another example is the anvil that is worst obtaining always connotation the hammer and the anvil which are used, now. Actually the anvil which breaks the hammer, never approximately other methodological is not always [...] Meaningless word. It is normal to find the long road where with writing the criticism and the liberal arts criticism of art of a certain type, especially, almost it has been lacking completely in sense accidentally. As for word being used with criticism of art, they do not point to all discoverable purposes, but just you do not have to be, to be harsh in the feeling which is expected that almost so it does with the reader meaningless, the way, the value of romantic, feeling, the vital force natural plastic the human who is liked, it died. When 1 critic writes, while another ones write, "the quality which has lived as an opinion of X's remarkable feature simple difference of work of the person,", "unique deadness which X's concerning the work of the person immediately is of assaulting," the reader it is this which is accepted. It is black and the word like white complicated, expresses the deceased in place of special language, life, he looks at that it is used with the method language being inadequate directly. Many political words are abused in the same way. "Desirable what. If "it shows, with democracy and socialism of the word which now does not have the meaning of excluding into the fascism of word, there is the meaning the plural which those each one cannot be reconciled mutually in the justice whose realistic freedom and patriotism are strong differing. In case of word democracy, there is defined there which agrees, simply you do not have to like, the attempt which but makes one resists from all sides. As for that when us democratic calling the country, as for us almost you were moved that by generally in having praised
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Call me a victim of Corporate America.
So, it remains with nothing left to say, a blank page: the rapist of writers' minds, la di fucking da. Perhaps a play, on words.
THEY
A Play On Words
Personae
Jack
Jill
Outside, in a field, bottom of a hill.
Enter Jack and Jill
Jack: Where are we?
Jill: I’m not sure. Let’s look around.
Jack: (taking her arm) No! Duck! They might see us! (he ducks, his hands over his heads, elbows out)
Jill: (following suit) Who are we hiding from?
Jack: Them! Don’t you see?
Jill: Don’t I see what? Who are they?
Jack: (whispering) They don’t want you to know. That’s why they’re called they. Do you get it now? It’s so no one ever finds out who they really are.
Jill: (mockingly) I think you’ve broken more than your crown.
Jack: (still whispering) Shh! They might hear you. Besides, you’re just a follower.
Jill: I was pushed!
Jack: (frustrated, loudly) I said Shh! (quietly again) Ok, follow me.
Jill: Where are we going?
Jack: (no longer quiet) We’re not going anywhere. Stay put.
Jill: We don’t even know where we are!
Jack: Good! Then they won’t know where we are either.
Jill: That’s absurd.
Jack: Precisely!
Jill: What?
Jack: I got it! That’s why they’re called they. They…such a perfect word. So ambiguous, third person, plural. They’re hiding in a crowd of a million people. They could be anyone they chose to be…
Jill: You’re nuts. I’m going home.
Jack: You’re acting very ignorant. Are you sure you’re not one of them?
Jill: No I’m not! (pause) One of who?
Jack: Look beyond that hill. Do you see those stars?
Jill: No, it’s early in the morning. I only see a sun.
Jack: Precisely. The stars are hiding behind the sun. They hide behind the word they!
Jill: That’s ridiculous.
Jack: You’re right. It is! That’s why they do it. It’s so ridiculous no one could think of it. Except me. You see Jill, I found they’re secret.
Jill: (sarcastically) Did you? Good. Maybe you could win a prize.
(rustling of leaves)
Jack: Did you hear that?
Jill: Hear what exactly?
Jack: Not what. That.
Jill: Now you’re turning into one of them!
Jack: They’re coming.
Jill: Who?
Jack: Them!
Jill: Who’s them?
Jack: They are!
Jill: What?
Jack: Run!
Jill: Where?
Jack: No! Not where, now!
(fade out)
Scene II
Jack: Okay, we’re safe now.
Jill: How do you know?
Jack: You’re being very interrogative. What are you trying to find out?
Jill: I’m trying to find out how you know everything.
Jack: Maybe you think I know too much.
Jill: (mockingly) That is definitely not the case.
Jack: We’re lost, again.
Jill: Are you sure?
Jack: Do you recognize anything?
Jill: I remember seeing that star…
Jack: That’s the sun.
Jill: We’re exactly under it.
Jack: So it must be noon.
Jill: What must be noon?
Jack: The time.
Jill: Are you sure?
Jack: They said time is relative
Jill: (cutting him off) Not them again!
Jack: No, this is a different they, the objective they. They said time is relative.
Jill: To what?
Jack: To me.
Jill: What about me?
Jack: What about you?
Jill: Why can’t it be relative to me?
Jack: Why can’t what?
Jill: Time!
Jack: I haven’t the slightest idea, aren’t you carrying a watch?
Jill: No, aren’t you?
Jack: Not at all. There’s no time then?
Jill: It appears so.
Jack: I wonder what a world that would be like.
Jill: Very still, I would assume.
Jack: You could never be late.
Jill: You could never be early.
Jack: We’d be stuck in only three dimensions.
Jill: Aren’t we there already?
Jack: We would never have appointments.
Jill: They wouldn’t be necessary?
Jack: A world without time…
Jill: The thought of it is scary.
Jack: A world without time…
Jill: It’s preposterous, really!
Jack: A world without time…
Jill: Would repeat itself, endlessly.
Jack: In a world without time.
Jill: Exactly.
Jack: Follow me. I have a plan.
Jill: What is your plan.
Jack: Where going to find the answers.
Jill: What was the question again?
Jack: How can you possibly live a life without asking questions?
Jill: How can you possibly live, asking all these questions.
(fade out, then fade in, bodies laying on the ground)
Jack: There’s bodies, everywhere.
Jill: They’re not moving.
Jack: They’re frozen.
Jill: In time.
Jack: Very interesting.
Jill: What is that?
Jack: There seems to be red markings on the side of this one’s head.
Jill: And this one too!
Jack: It’s the mark of time.
Jill: The mark of time?
Jack: The mark of time, it marks those who are stuck in time, unable to remove themselves from their frozen state.
Jill: Aren’t they dead?
Jack: They never die.
Jill: Then why don’t they move?
Jack: Don’t you know? They’re always on the move.
Jill: If they’re always on the move why are they right here?
Jack: Who? They? They aren’t right here at all! They’re never here, always there.
Jill: Are you sure you’re not hallucinating? I’m sure I see these people right here in front of me.
Jack: I’m positive you believe that, that doesn’t mean these people are them.
Jill: No, it doesn’t…wait! What?
Jack: These people are irrelevant! These people are dead! What good are a bunch of dead people? Can dead people answer questions? Can dead people tell you where they are? Can dead people tell you anything?
Jill: No, I don’t suppose they can.
Jack: Ok, we have to leave here as soon as possible.
Jill: Why?
Jack: Would you want to stay around a field of a dead bodies? Or would you want to leave the dead bodies?
Jill: I wouldn’t be comfortable staying, but we have nowhere to go.
Jack: Let’s climb the hill.
Jill: The hill?
Jack: Yes, Jill. The hill. Over yonder, across the blue sky, there’s a hill green like fields of grass.
Jill: Is that not a field of grass?
Jack: It is. Let’s go.
Jill: I refuse to follow you.
Jack: Suit yourself, the sun’s coming down.
Fade out. Fade in, Jack and Jill top of a hill
Jack: From here, we can solve the problem
Jill: Of what?
Jack: The problem of everything. There are so many questions, and no one has really taken the time to answer it.
Jill: What are you talking about? What questions?
Jack: Well, that one, for one. It’s one of the most important questions to ask.
Jill: What ?
Jack: Yes! What questions do we ask? That’s a very important question to ask. Once you answer that, you can start getting answers.
Jill: What in the world are you speaking of?
Jack: You see, some people have attributed different meanings to different words.
Jill: Yes…
Jack: Yet, since when did a word have a meaning?
Jill: Ever since one defined it.
Jack: And if one chose not to define a word.
Jill: It would have no meaning
Jack: And if we spoke in words without meaning
Jill: We’d be speaking nonsense
Jack: And if everyone spoke in nonsense
Jill: Life would…
Jack: Have no meaning!
Jill: Then why speak at all?
Jack: To pass the time.
Jill: I never knew one could speak that fast.
Jack: One can’t. But one can always try.
Jill: Why try if we’re doomed to failure?
Jack: Ask Vladimir.
Jill: He’s not around.
Jack: For shame, and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern have passed away.
Jill: They are dead, who’s left?
Jack: Me and you.
Jill: For now
Jack: Until we too go the way of them.
Jill: Great
Jack: Well. There’s not much else left to say.
Jill: There’s never been anything to say
Jack: Yet we all say something different every day
Jill: It all ends the same way.
Jack: How are you?
Jill: Terrible.
Jack: That’s nice to hear. Nice weather we’re having isn’t it?
Jill: No it’s horrible.
Jack: Terrific. I’d love to stay and chat but I must be moving along
Jill: Busy, busy, busy. Where are we going?
Jack: Not we, me.
Jill: What about me?
Jack: Not you, me.
Jill: Where to?
Jack: Over there
Jill: With them?
Jack: Precisely
Jill: I thought you were running away from them
Jack: One can only run so far
Jill: They can only run so far after you.
Jack: The world is round
Jill: More round around one end than the other.
Jack: The more I run the closer I get to where I’m running away from.
Jill: So why run?
Jack: Precisely. Do you believe you could stop a glacier?
Jill: I know I couldn’t
Jack: If you were in a boat headed straight for a glacier..
Jill: The Titanic?
Jack: Overdone. How about a random boat in the Atlantic.
Jill: I accept
Jack: Would you try and stop the glacier?
Jill: I’d stop the boat
Jack: Even if you knew you’d fail?
Jill: Even if I knew.
Jack: Then I must keep running
Jill: Mustn’t you?
Jack: I don’t know what to do. In a world with no values and no rules, how do I know what I am to do?
Jill: Follow your heart.
Jack: My heart does nothing but beat.
Jill: Follow your nose.
Jack: And infringe upon copyrights? Never!
Jill: Follow the yellow-brick road?
Jack: Need I repeat myself?
Jill: Besides, I’ve never seen a yellow-brick road
Jack: So no one has the answer?
Jill: I thought you were going to find it.
Jack: I found the question, it’s not up to me to answer.
Jill: You’re just like the rest of them.
Jack: The rest of who
Jill: The whole lot of them. Socrates and Play-dough
Jack: It’s Plato with a T
Jill: Was Socrates ever real?
Jack: Is anything real?
Jill: Everything is real.
Jack: Even the imaginary?
Jill: Must be. If something feels so real but is not there, it must be there.
Jack: But it’s not.
Jill: But it is.
Jack: In there. Somewhere
Jill: Nothing can be new
Jack: That is true
Jill: Even dreams and nightmares are all combinations of sensory input.
Jack: Combinations have their limits
Jill: Then so too does human imagination.
Jack: When will it end?
Jill: Judging by the quality of everything, very soon.
Jack: How about now?
Jill: Not yet, I haven’t found Them.
Jack: Neither have I. They are coming soon.
Jill: I can see them across the horizon.
Jack: The men who decide everything
Jill: The men who knew all.
Jack: They know all, they see all, they’ve heard all, they’ve felt all.
Jill: They are like Gods
Jack: Gods are like Them.
Jill: Imagine a world
Jack: Yes
Jill: Where one could attribute whatever meaning one wished…
Jack: Yes…
Jill: To words and to phrases and to sentences and to speeches
Jack: Yes…
Jill: And force an entire world
Jack: To believe there is no other way
Jill: To live
Jack: But to follow…
Jill: (interrupting) Quiet…
Jack: What.
Jill: It’s
Jack and Jill: (together) Them.
Fade out
Curtains Fall.
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I feel I haven't been offending enough people lately, so I think I should dive right it and make fun of everyone! Hahaha you all stink. In a recent survey, no one likes you. Murder is the only cure for your existence. Your mom called, she found the hanger. It was in the fetus. And so on... Anyhoes, time for an update I hear you beg of me, and so an update I give for thee. I have a job as a Ride Operator at Paramount Canada's Wonderland. I'd make links but the whole a href thing just doesn't suite me. So instead, you can go to www.canadaswonderland.com and find out what the fuck I am talking about. And pretend to care. In other news, I bought a Canon a80 camera, which is fun because I get to take pictures of things, such as, bumble bees, and my shoe. Perhaps I'll link to those. Somehow. I am hungry. I am not eating enough lately, I blame the Sims. I've been playing that too much. Sometimes I think I'm a lesbian trapped in a guy's body. Infact, I AM a lesbian trapped inside a guy's body. In more philosophical news, I have decided to take a new approach of life, to completely counter-act all that nihilistic crap. I'll call it the anti-nihilism. In this so called anti-niilism, everything exists. That's right, even GOD! What? Pedram? You believe in God? Of course I DO! Do I have a choice? I mean God is everywhere! Here, there, everywhere, like some sort of childhood song about big brother or something. Yes God exists and the absence of God exists as well. Again, everything exists. We can have superimposed existences, states of perpetual existences, states of undefined exsitences, lots of existing states of existences! So why not have a God! Why not not have a God? There's no reason not to. I mean I am as sure of my personal observations resulting from sensory information in my nervous system as anyone else, and how am I to say someone didn't see or didn't believe or didn't hear or didn't feel or didn't touch something when they could say they did? Exactly. So everything that everyone has ever felt, touched, smelled, tasted, heard, believed, conceived, thought, communicated, dreamt, imagined -- it all exists. And so when I say you're a big, fat, ugly stupid little person, it must be true, because I said it. And you can say whatever you want, but I'm still right and no matter how much you argue against it, I am right. Bitch. Peace, Love, Unity, Revolver.    
Sound entering ears: : bzzz bumble bees.
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I was thinking of starting a band called White Noise, but then I decided I can't do that because people would think I'm a supremicist. I then though ok fine, how about a band called Pink Noise? But then I'd be ripping off of Pink Floyd. So then I thought, what other kinds of noise exist? Brown noise? South Park rip-off. So if you ever wondered why I never did anything with my life, that's why. "Spanish Caravan, Yes I know you can..."It's been a while, a long while since I've gotten high. I'd like to get high soon. But it's not really that big of a deal. Anyone ever realize how awesome the Doors are? I did. Just now! "It's all over for me, unknown soldier, ohhhhh (orgasmic moan.)" Ahaha. Ok. Mission for everyone. Name some awesome bands/songs for me to download.Restriction #1: It can't be whiny or suck, unless it's the good kind of whiny, like that of say...the Postman, or whatever that band Shannon and Caitlin make love to is called.
Sound entering ears: : The Doors - Spanish Caravan
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Once more, I've trodden off and troddled away forgetting to update this silly game we call LJ. Nothing much to do, nothing much to say; perhaps a commentary, on psychology. The whole idea of cognitive dissonance and the reason we believe in what we do rather than do what we believe to be true. You see, it's simply quite simple indeed, rather than admit that what we do does not come from a deep and internal reasoning but rather brash and brute judgements. So what happens when you do something you find deplorable? You no longer find it deplorable; attitudes are easily changed, past behaviours are not.
Ever notice how time crawls to a standstill everytime you try and make it hurry up, like a toddler reacting to your wishes by doing the exact opposite of what your ordered him to do? Of course you have, who hasn't. It doesn't matter, because nothing does. And apathy wins over, again, and again.
But who cares? No one. Of course not. That's the point. As Jill once said to Jack, "That's absurd."
"Precisely." replied Jack
Advice is retrospective justification, because everytime someone tells you to do something, they only want you to do it so that they can tell you that they were right all along if you don't follow it. And you won't.
No one does. Despite what we may all believe. Is this some sort of deep understanding of human nature that no one as thought of? Some sort of great dive into the rich depths of the book of human behaviour or is it instead just mindless banter?
I'd opt for the latter.
Sometimes, it's a sketchy Friday.
Oh life.
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001) What time are you starting this?: 10:31AM
002) Name?: Yes
003) Date of birth?: Of course!
004) Sex?: Without a doubt.
005) Height?: Up there alright
006) Eye color?: I suppose it does have a colour, yes.
007) Weight?: Only while near planets.
008) Location?: Right..here!
009) Where were you born?: In my home country.
010) Have you ever failed a grade?: Nope, have you?
011) If you have, what grade did you fail?: Your mom.
012) Do you have crush on someone?: I have a big crush on a small person. Crush you like a bug!
013) Do you have a bf/gf?: No, she's just a gf. Sorry.
014) If so, what is their name?: There's only of 'Them.' Desiree
015) How long have you been together?: Well she's not right here at the moment so..0 seconds!
016) What are you wearing right now?: Some clothes.
017) Would you have sex before marriage?: Hmm. If I never get married, then I can't possibly have sex before marriage...so...no I wouldn't.
018) Have you ever had a crush on any of your teachers?: Yes. I love Dadey. Ew. No I don't
019) Are you a virgin?: Nope, not yet.
020) Do you smoke?: Plants.
021) Do you drink?: Fermented plants.
022) Are you ghetto?: Werd.
023) Are you a player?: Ball.
024) What are your favorite colors?: Blue.
025) What is your favorite animal?: Dog, yo.
026) Do you have any birthmarks?: Yep.
027) Have you ever gotten your ass kicked?: By my girlfriend. Several times.
028) Who are your best friends?: Your mom. And all the cool people. Shannon cause of her icon. And your mom, cause of her nice tig...ew no.
029) Have you ever beat someone up?: My five-year old brother
030) Who do you talk to most on the phone?: The voices.
031) Have you ever been slapped?: Like a ho.
032) Do you get online a lot?: I get off a lot..
033) Are you shy or outgoing?: I'm outgoing to the shy extent.
034) Do you shower?: No.
035) Do you hate school?: I hate Waterloo.
036) Do you have a social life?: I am a social cancer, I kill socialists. Wait, that makes me an American.
037) How easily do you trust people?: Depends how big my gun is.
038) Have you ever lied to your bestfriends?: Of course. Bestfriends, I'm not really a guy..at all.
039) Do you have a secret people would be surprised knowing?: Yes allow me to reveal it. I enjoy dead babies.
040) Would you ever sky dive?: If I ever fell off a plane, sure why not.
041) Do you like to dance?: If by dance you mean not. Yes.
068) Have you ever been out of state?: Out of state, out of mind, out of grammatical sense..
069) Do you like to travel?: I like to be travelled.
070) Have you ever been expelled from school?: Yes, this one time, at band camp, I stuck a flute up my teacher's pussy and she got very upset. Her cat died. The end.
071) Have you ever been suspended from school?: Yes, this one time, at band camp, I stuck a flute up my teacher's ass and she got very upset. Her donkey died.
071) Do you want to get out of your hometown?: I'm not sure I understand the question.
072) Are you spoiled?: I'm ripe as a potato!
073) Are you a brat?: As a bat!
074) Have you ever been dumped?: Pumped to get dumped!!
075) Have you ever gotten high?: Haha. I'm high now. On Benelyn.
076) What's your favorite drink?: Pussy Juice. I mean, Apple Juice.
078) Do you drink a lot of water?: If I'm at a rave, which I'm not.
079) What toothpaste do you use?: I don't
080) Do you have a cell phone or pager?: I have a brain tumor and a waist tumor.
081) Do you have a curfew?: I have a cur plenty.
082) Who do you look up to?: Tall people
083) Are you a role model?: Only on the runway.
084) Have you ever been to Six Flags?: Your mom has.
085) What name brand do you wear the most?: FUBU and ECHO and Wu-Wear. Ya dig?
086) What kind of jewelry do you wear?: the bling
087) What do you have pierced?: the plingness.
088) What do you want pierced?: the testes.
089) Do you like taking pictures?: I do
090) Do you like getting your picture taken?: I do not.
091) Do you have a tan?: No but I'm hairy, same effect
092) Do you get annoyed easily?: I'm in a state of permannoyance.
093) Have you ever started a rumor?: Yes. I told all my friends I was gay. And then they believed me.
094) Do you have your own phone/phone line?: No.
095) Do you have your own pool?: Of phlegm
096) Do you have any siblings?: Yes
097) Do you prefer boxers or briefs?: Either or.
098) Have you ever been played?: I was a chess piece once..
099) Have you ever played anyone?: I was never allowed to be the chess master, no.
100) Do you get along with your parents?: Yes
102) How do you vent your anger?: I kill babies and then tell people jokes about them, pretending I never killed them.
103) Have you ever run away?: Have you ever speak bad english?
104) Have you ever been fired from a job?: No
105) Do you even have a job?: No.
106) Do you daydream a lot?: About dead babies.
107) Do you have a lot of exes?: I have a lot of ohs.
108) Do you run your mouth?: No I take it out for a walk when It has to pee.
109) What do you want a tattoo of?: Myself.
110) What do you have a tattoo of?: Your mom.
111) What are your favorite flowers?: Dead Baby Roses
112) What does your ex bf/gf look like?: Like Dominique.
113) What does your most recent crush look like?: Like Desiree. Hot and how! Girls hit on her and I get jealous, until I go out and cut their tits off.
114) Have you ever been bitched out?: Like fo shizzy..
115) Are u rude?: Very
117) What was the last compliment you received?: You...you have nice...uhm...marrow.
118) Do you like getting dirty?: and then clean.
119) Is your bellybutton an innie or outie?: Innie.
120) Are you flexible?: Not one bit.
121) What is your heritage?: Irish Canadian.
122) What is your lucky number?: 13.
123) What does your hair look like right now?: Fake.
124) Could you ever be a vegetarian?: Only when there's vegeterian food options.
125) When was your last real heartbreak?: Yesterday. Love was such an easy game to play, and so on.
126) Describe your looks?: Hot like woah. Danger, watch yourself, Mrs. Robinson.
127) If you had to completely dye your hair it'd be what color?: BLUE!
128) Would you ever date someone younger than you?: Not again
129) Would you ever date someone older than you?: I am.
130) When was the last time you were drunk?: That time I puked.
131) When was the last time you went on a date?: With a girl a bit late she had so many friends running through many hands!
132) Would you rather give or receive oral sex?: Would I rather eat a cake or make it?
133) Have you ever given?: All the time.
134) Have you ever received?: All the..wait no. I mean yes!
135) Have you ever had an eating disorder?: I'm an anorexic obese food junkie
136) Do you have one now?: Yes.
137) How many rings until you answer the phone?: As many as it takes to find it
140) Do you look more like your mother or father?: Father.
141) Do you cry a lot?: WAH> EMO>.
142) Do you ever cry to get your way?: EMO I Mean E-No..
143) If you had to amputate one limb, what would it be?: Yours.
144) What phrase do you use most when on the phone?: Fuck shit cunt ass poo.
145) Are you the romantic type?: Yes. I kill myself all the time.
146) Have you ever been chased by cops?: This one time, in GTA3.
147) What do you like most about your body?: My ass
148) What do you like least about your body?: Your tongue in it.
149) Who did you last hook up with?: My dildo.
150) When was the last time you threw up?: Last time I got drunk.
151) In the opposite sex, do you prefer blondes or brunettes?: Desirettes.
152) What do the shoes you last wore look like?: Grey and blue
153) Do you ever wear shirts to show your belly?: Yeah all the time
154) Do you ever...: I'm on my ellipses right now.
155) Is your best friend a virgin?: Only on Tuesdays.
156) Have you ever fucked someone up?: the ass? Sure why not.
157) Have you ever been fucked up?: The ass? Guil tried.
158) What color are your underwear right now?: Pink.
159) What theme does your room have?: Pedramian Structure
160) What size shoe do you wear?: 13
162) What is your screen name on MSN?: PEDDiE: Stupid Waterloo
163) Would you pick a wedgie in public?: Yes
164) How are you feeling right now?: Sick
165) When was the last time you were at a party?: Does Sourkee count?
166) Have you ever given a lapdance?: Yes.
167) What do you sleep in?: My bed!
168) Has there ever been a rumor spread about you?: Yes
169) What is one of your bad qualities?: I'm too awesome.
170) What is one of your good qualities?: Too awesomer..
171) Would you marry for money?: Yes
172) What do you drive?: A car
173) Have you ever given or received roadhead?: I didn't know streets had penises.
174) Are you more of a mama or daddy's child?: Yes
175) What's does your lj username mean?: It's the name of this God.
177) When was the last time you cried in school?: Gr 12
178) Do you wear Chucks?: How much wood?
179) For two million dollars, would you pose for Playboy?: Fuck yes.
180) What time are you finishing this?: 1058
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So with much regard, I write. Again, it seems my entries have been few and far between, to use an overused colloquialism. But what is there left to say? Take some old idea, put an old spin on it, call the combination your own, and ladies and gentlemen we have ourselves an idea, a formulaic thought, a pattern of prose oft repeated, things that, statistically, would be nearly impossible to not have been communicated at one point in the past. But so vat? Does it really matter that everything we say is meaningless, does it really matter that life and all within its constraints are devoid of any real value and purpose -- to put it easily, absurd? Of course not, if it did, the world would stop spinning as everyone, in one giant exasperated breath, sighed that remorseful sigh we all have done when everything seems to just whisk by as we stand there, walking against the rotation of the Earth thinking that somehow we've extended our life for a brief, fleeting, moment of time. I guess the real answer to everything is that there is no answer to anything. Which is paradoxical (conveniently so, to advance my point.) There's no real point looking for answers to anything, because answers won't help you with your studies, with your work, or your financial, romantic, platonic, idiotic woes. I'm this close to adding something about God and religion, but I think that horse has been beaten to a bloody pulp and is now made into industrial strength glue. So we'll leave that one at that. So to all those who criticize those who live oblivious to strengths and weaknesses of human nature, who live optimistic in a world of pessimism, who live happily in a world of so much sorrow, Good Show! To those on the other end of this light-spectrum, (I suppose they'd be blue) get a life. Cheer up, emo kids. P.S. Judging by the amount of stars I can see, someone out there is looking at me too. So without further ado, Run Billy Run.
Status of synaptic response::  touched
Sound entering ears: : Desiree singing that song that goes "touching youuuuu"
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"Nice weather we're having today, eh?" "I hope you burn in hell!" "Yes, I hear it's quite warm there this time of year." Just a little thought that occured to me while sitting in Poli. Sci. We were talking about the media and its influence in class today, watched a video featuring the beloved Noam Chomsky and so on. The discussion turned to CNN for a minute or two, and how they have, to put it nicely, a journalistic disability. Or better yet, they are journalistically-challenged. The arugment wasn't that, however, rather it was why they do so. The prof claimed that CNN, as a 24 hours news telecast, can't afford the best journalists, nor can it afford the best standards, because, despite one might think, no one wants to know what's going on every second of the day, and although there might be something worthy to know about every second, there isn't something news-worthy every second. Small distinction, or perhaps quite large. So, the prof's arugment was that CNN is profit-driven. A quite sensible argument. But I'm in University, and who said that university students are sensible, mature, independent, critical thinkers? Not me, that's for sure. I may be a liar, but I try to lie well. So, one student puts his hand up, (and in that tone that identifies an idiot a mile away, some call it being pompous, others call it being intelligent, I call it being an idiot, because I link to cling to the tried and true adjectives) he says, paraphrased, for lack of excellent memory skills "I don't think CNN is stupid at all. I think they know perfectly well what's going on, but CNN is owned by GM which sells weapons to the government..." and the rest of the argument is pretty self-explanatory. I'm sure I could find which ZNet article on the internet that was rehashed from, probably something by the exalted Lord Chomsky himself. What's my point of view on CNN and the news media? Apart from that it stinks? Well, that's not really my point in this entry, but I'll enter it since you (and by you I mean I) asked. --> Commence digressions now. <--Mandatory warning : I'm not a cunning linguist, MD. Nor am I a Poli. Sci. major who thinks he knows the real reason behind everyone. I'm an undergraduate who still hasn't applied to his major because he's lazy. So, shut up. The first problem when people speak of The Media and The Government and Them or They is that they personify something. Everyone does this, I might do it to, but not right now, so I'm better than you. The Media isn't a giant being that walks around the earth looking for people to explot, The Government isn't some huge beast with three-hundred million eyes that can see what everyone is doing and has some alterior motive to destroy peasants and farmers worldwide so that it can feed its wife, Big Business. "They" do not exist. There is no Them. When someone says, They are doing generic conspiracy, I tend to be skeptical. I don't know of anyone named Them or They. Using Them and They is an easy way to dismiss an extremely complicated topic. The Media and The Government are other easy ways to dismiss an extremely complicated subject. Yet, we do it, and when we do, we feel we found something called The Truth. The Truth? Are you fucking kidding me. There is no Truth out there, hiding under the rocks of the Earth waiting for some trutheologist to dig it up. Not only is there no Truth, but its presence or absence is irrelevant to any course of action. There is no Truth, what is real, (reality as some may call it) is what is actually happening. Not opionated ideas of what is going on behind the scenes, but what is happening. EXAMPLE FOR THOSE WHO CAN'T FOLLOW ABSTRACT THINKING COMING UP NOW!! Take, for example, a war. The war in Iraq. Right now, it is going on. Let's analyze this in two ways. A) The stupid way. B) The better (Pedramian) way. A) The war in Iraq is a fight for (oil/freedom/liberation/independence/dem ocracy/world domination), the (Iraqi/American) government are doing evil things while the other government is the good side, looking out for the best interest of the people. This war will (put an end to/further increase/cause) the oppression of the Iraqi people. There is a mass conspiracy on the part of (Saddam Hussein/The American Government/Corporate Interests) who operate ruthlessly for their own self-interests. Rephrased. The war in Iraq is a fight for a cause, They are doing evil things while We are doing good things, looking out for the best interest of the people. This war will affect the Iraqi people. There is a mass conspiracy on Their part, operating ruthlessly for their own self-interests. This is an incorrect way of viewing anything. Why? Because it assumes a truth, when, clearly, there is none. There is no Truth, one is being arbitrarily assigned. Chomsky argues this is being done for profits. Others argue that it isn't being done at all. I argue nothing except that it is being done and that it is a useless exercise in modern apathy. B) There are people in Iraq who are shooting each other, blowing each other up, and killing each other. There are people in Iraq who are starving, others are not. Many people in Iraq are unhappy because of these situations. Few do not mind it. Some people in Washington are quite happy with this war, others are not. This war happened because some people in America signed papers that issued orders to other people to send other people into planes and boats headed for Iraq, and then some people on those boats and planes ordered other people on those boats and planes to do certain things, such as establish a tent. People were shot, people died. People continue to be shot, people contiue to die. Babies and women are people. They are dying. Many people are dying, but most people seem to care more about theorizing about why they are doing and less about why aren't they not dying. This is truth, not Truth. This is what is happening. If you want to take some stupid existentialist perspective on this, and say, how do you KNOW that is happening, you never been there, go ahead. I won't listen. I've gotten over that whole nihilistic approach to the world, where nothing exists because the world is nothing but nerve reactions to external stimuli. Rather, this is what is happening, and I know this because of what I see and read, and I have a rather strong belief that people don't go around making stories and movies of people dying without having credits run at the end of the movie. <--- end digression --> Originally, this post was about formulaic thought, but that digression was so great, I sort of lost track. I was talking about the kids response towards the CNN thing. Right! All I had to say about that was that people don't think for themselves very much. Not all people, but some. They tend to pick a side, stick with it, find other people's arguments, accept those as their own arguments as well, and use them, which in turn other people accept as their own, etc. The problem here is that people forget that others' arugments are not necessarily good ones. Infact, they can stink quite a lot. Which can lead you to look very stupid and foolish in front of a very small audience, mostly me. But then, why would anyone try to impress me? I guess you should all go read some Noam Chomsky and Michael Moore and save the world now. I'm sure there are some people in underpriveledged countries that don't know the Truth about Them yet.
Status of synaptic response::  thoughtful
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GUESS WHAT. I SPOKE TO GOD TODAY!
It was amazing. A revelation. I was just sitting there on my bed, not doing anything in particular. I was really high too. I had all sorts of strange chemicals and even some not so strange ones in me. And all of a sudden, I saw this vision in my field of vision. I looked to my right, and right outside my window was this amber-like glow. It came through the window and spake to me. He said, and I paraphrase, Pedram, this is the Lord God speaking to you. I have chosen you as a prophet to send the good word out to the world. Now listen carefully...And he procceded to recite to me words which I then memorized. Now, I have to write these words down into what he called a Holy Book.
If you think that's crazy, just wait till you read the book. And if you think the books crazy, then just wait til you read the REAL Bible. Holy Crap! Indeed, some of the crappiest holy I have ever seen.
But boy is it funny to sing.
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So, in the paper today there was an article about some hate-crimes in Vaughn. Some old Jewish people had their doors vandalized with "FUCK JEWZ" and a swastika symbol using spray paint. A rock was thrown through a girl's bedroom window. Cars were also vandalized with eggs and spraypaint. Now, I'm normally all for free-speech. And I'm all for taking shots at minorities, being a terrorist myself. In fact, Jews are one of my favourite sources of comedy, along with the Germans, the Russians, Blacks and Latins. But this is ridiculous. And it made me sad. Poor old Jews. Stupid skinheads. Speaking of skinheads. There are lots of skinheads in Kitchener. Stupid nazi punks. Reminds me of a great song by a great band. I shall recite
"Punk ain't no religious cult, punk means thinkin' for yourself, you ain't hardcore cause you spike your hair when a jock still lives inside your head. Nazi punks, nazi punks, nazi punks, Fuck Off."
I fucking hate Nazi Punk skinheads. And if you're one, I hope you get stabbed with a gun.
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I was wondering what to write about, and then I thought what's the point, when everything has already been written? Is there any purpose to write, to do anything, that is, because in the end we all die, and bla bla bla bla bla? Hahaha. I'm lying. I don't ever think. So here goes another entry, that's been repeated a million times before me, about twenty-thousand times better, all while being 43% higher in fibre, 10% lower in calories, and about 30% better in grammar and spelling. Despite all this, my 403% lack of caring will make this entry better than about 57% of all previous entries like this, meaning that I'm in the top four-hundred and thirty thousand entries, that are similar to this one. Eat it, bitch. So what's there to talk about? I dunno. BUT I do like to RAP, so let's get retarded! I mean, started. Got a pocket full of a weed, indeed Even dope dealers have needs, indeed Do I care if you've got some sort of disease? Indeed, I don't, and neither does your doc Me an' him are gettin high as FUCK So take your glaucoma and shove it up your ass! I just popped some E and now I gotta pass some gas! I came to your house but I forgot how to piss So I saw your mom, hot as fuck and we started to KISS! One thing led to another and now I'm your father So bitch get out there and make me that dollar! I don't care if you gotta sell your soul As long as I can have my teeth made of gold! Cause I'm straight from the guttah, the ghetto scene Come on bitch, even thugs need mansions with marble figurines What do you know, the bitch started to shout So I grabbed her by her weave and threw her old ass out Cuz the boys in this hood are always hard You come talkin' that trash And we'll sue your ass! So when some guy is givin' you advice About what to do about your vice Tell them to fuck off and knock him out Steal his wallet and battle it OUT But you forgot he's black and you forgot you're white He's got a gun you've got a butta knife But wouldn't ya know! You daddy's a lawyer, and now you own your very own negro! Got a pocket full of a weed, indeed Even dope dealers have needs, indeed Do I care if you've got some sort of disease? Indeed, I don't, and neither does your doc Me an' him are gettin high as FUCK! Werd, yo.
Now that I've offended the entire human population with that disgrace to lyrical prose, I beseech you : read on. Here's something totally similar. Jesus Loves You !That's what the graffiti says on the cubicle in front of me, etched in wood with ink. Underlined, for effect, I suppose. Ever wonder if people say things loudly only because they don't have a better way of making you believe it? That sure does explain the Gospel. And exclamation marks. I wonder if Jesus really does love me. If he does, he must be a lot like Ned Flanders - you can kick him, shit on him, swear at him, you can even tell him right to his face that you don't believe he ever existed, and he'll love you for it. Jesus Christ. Sure, the guy probably was real, two-thousand years ago, but did he really walk on water, turn water into wine, and do all that other stuff that today we'd label fiction but otherwise is proof of mesiac activity? Nah, course not. What's this love everyone's talking about? Jesus loves me bullshit? Jesus is dead. He died, he was nailed to a big slab of wood and rotted off while crows pecked out his eyes. The truth is that Jesus doesn't love you, you love Jesus for having something to hold on to. Hmm, that's quite lyrical. Maybe I'll make a song. Like the Simpsons Season Crap, it's time to sing along. The truth is that Jesus doesn't love you You love Jesus for having something to hold on to He died for your conscience So you can wash away your sins Nanananana Woah oh oh Nanananana Woah oh oh woah!! Now, I wonder. What is up with this God nonsense? I've asked many, many, many times for an answer and no one can come up with anything more clever than "You need to look inside your heart." Well, my friend, inside my heart is a lot of blood, and muscle. I don't see any God in here. So let me ask again, to all of you who believe in God or Jesus or the Trinity or whatever Divinity you like to stroke his over-stroked ego (and please, comment on this if you comment on anything..) Why do you believe in God?And give me a good reason. Don't tell me it's because you have faith in our Lord Christ the Saviour, because I can type that just as well as you can. Don't tell me it's because your parents took you to church as a child, and now, with that abstract notion (like any abstract notion) pumped through your ears and into your brain every Sunday of your existence, you believe in our Lord (even if you won't directly say that, most reasons lead to that.) Give me good reasons. And before you reply, make sure you ask yourself that question, and not just give off a comment that came out of your brain stem, one that's been programmed to respond to any questioning of faith. Yep, this is to you all, you believers and born-agains and other crap. Look inside, think about that crazy notion of God you have and tell me why, after all that deliberation inside your mind, you still believe in God.
Status of synaptic response:: contemplative
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 You are the grammar Fuhrer. All bow to your authority. You will crush all the inferior people under the soles of your jackboots, and any who question your motives will be eliminated. Your punishment is being the bane of every other person's existence, because you're constantly contradicting stupidity. Everyone will be gunning for you. Your dreams of a master race of spellers and grammarians frighten the masses. You must always watch your back. If only your power could be used for good instead of evil. What is your grammar aptitude? brought to you by Quizilla
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Well, well, well. How bout an update? Sounds good. Let's get started. I need a 78 in Psych and a 75 average overall. Now this doesn't sound hard, and it normally wouldn't be, except for a little problem. I have no learning habits. Not just study habits, but learning habits. I don't even remember whether or not my poli. sci class is at 10am or 10:30. And as a result, have missed it for 2 weeks. And another thing, when I should be studying, I am playing some damn Korean crack-game called Gunbound Click that link if you have nothing better to do with your life than waste it. So, I've decided, after going to my Psych Orientation today, that I, Pedram Roshdinavid, will study, and study fully for my Midterm. I will complete assignments. I will go to class. And most importantly, I will get 78.0% or greater in Psych. The other 75% should come with the territory. Or it won't. Oh, and one last thing. I find this to be one of the more disturbing MSN names I've ever had : To your little sister, I'm just 13 year old Jimmy.Don't get it? It follows a slew of advertisments on TV and the Internet, featuring an old 40 year-old pervert talking in a chat room saying shit like, "I like dolls too. What school do you go to?" And it finishes off with their slogan : "To her, he's just 11 year old Jimmy." Or something. I like the number 13 more, it flows better with my phrase. I shall end this post one word too
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I was about to go on hiatus because I felt there was nothing to write about. Now I've realized why I had nothing to write about. I haven't been talking to enough stupid recently. So here we go, a rant, a rant I wanted to rant about as soon as I heard the answer to a question asked by my Poli. Sci. TA.
The answer was No. The question, Alex, "Can men be feminists too?"
As so, here we discuss :
Why Women are Afraid of Feminism.
What? An article about women and about a women's movement written by an ignorant, masochistic, sadistic, anti-feminist, anti-semitic, anti-socialist, capitalist pig? (see Man)
Yes, precisely. Let me tell you. First of all, I'd start with a necessary warning so that I may tread lightly on broken glass. Since there about as many breeds of feminism as there are dogs, I'd like to focus my attention on the breed that makes me want to bitch, the feminists known as anti-maninists. These people believe that men cannot be feminists simply because they have not 'suffered' what women have suffered, although we may 'sympathize' with the feminist cause, and be a "feminist supporter", we cannot be feminist. My first problem : What the fuck is the difference between a feminist and a feminist supporter? Is feminism not an ideology, and is supporting this ideology not characteristic of a feminist? Or is a feminist some sort of mutant offspring, genetically identical to most people except for the lack of a particular chromosome?
No, it isn't. Feminism is a movement, a movement that claims women should have equal rights as men. Not superior rights, but equal. Not that men are idiots and should be killed or castrated or gayified, but that men and women are equal, and that the political and social institutions in our country should symbolize that. By going off and saying that women suffer and that men do not, and therefore that men couldn't possibly be feminist you're isolating two of your most important customers : men and women.
You see, not every man wants to rule the world and oppress and rape women. Some men actually empathize, rather than sympathize, with women and their plight. Just as white guys can empathize with black guys and just as rich people can empathize with poor people and just as every person, man or woman, that lives in the West can empathize with those who don't eat for weeks on end in the poorest of the poor countries.
By taking such a Nazi-esque stance against men, women are being scared off of feminism. Which is a shame, because everyone agrees women should have equal rights with men, but few would call themselves a feminist. And if we learned anything for the Civil Rights movement, it takes one murder to break the silence, and one man to cause a nation's uprising.
Besides, I could equally claim that no woman in Canada or the States has the right to be a feminist. They have the right to vote, if they don't like how women are being treated, it's their own fault. Women DO outnumber men. Go and take over the country. And threaten abstinence to your husbands that don't like it. Nellie McClung never had the chance to vote. She was a feminist. Not you. You don't know how much she suffered, you'll never experience her suffering, you poseur.
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I was reading old, and I mean old deadjournals, and I came across some fancy jarb. Jarb is a new word, I'm not sure if I invented it or not. There are only 2170 instances of Jarb on Google, so it's safe to say I invented it. And there's some crap, poorly written crap in there. But I can always fix that, by changing it and making it well written crap.
As so, here goes, something, which essentially becomes nothing.
I got nothing. What's wrong with me? Is there nothing left to write about? Or have I come to the ultimate realisation -- the artists nigthmare. The truth. That nothing anyone does is important. Sometimes it feels nothing is worth spitting out. What's left to talk about? Inner feelings? After I was taught by every form of parent and guardian I had, electronic or otherwise, that I should keep them in, that boys don't cry? After being laughed at by kids for crying after being hit by a tennis ball in the back? After having your bestfriend leave you for another, cooler one? Because that is what our society has come to. I secretly wonder in my head why I couldn't ever hug a guy friend but girls are hugged by either sex without any sort of sexual intention. Someone asked me what my weapons were. I replied words so sharp they could pierce your mind. I wish my words were sharp as they used to be. Now they seem dull, and the more I use them, trying to sharpen my language, the duller it seems to get. Overexposure to a novel stimuli renders it novel no longer. If there ever was anything important to say, it would never be said.
Time and again, I get this longing. And it makes me wish that I could eradicate distance and time in one sweep.
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Chapter 2
1 Thus the people of the Earth partied, all the host of them.
2 And on the seventh day God ended his work which he had made; and he rested on the seventh day from all the E which he had taken.
3 And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it: because that in it he had rested from all his work which God created and made.
4 God decided that hallucinations were the way to go and decided to have some sadistic fun.
5 And every marijuana and opium plant upon the earth needed labour to ensure its continuous growth.
6 But there went up a mist from the earth, and watered the whole face of the ground and the plants grew large and tall.
7 And the LORD God formed slaves of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and the slaves became a living soul.
8 And the LORD God planted a hydroponics garden eastward in Eden; and there he put the men whom he had formed.
9 And out of the ground made the LORD God to grow every plant that induces hallucinations.
10 And a river went out of Eden to water the garden; and from thence it was parted, and became into four heads.
11 The name of the first is Pison: that is it which compasseth the whole land of Havilah, where there is cannabis;
12 And the plant of that land is good: there is potent, mellow high.
13 And the name of the second river is Gihon: the same is it that compasseth the whole land of Afghanistan where the opiate grows freely
14 And the name of the third river is Hiddekel: that is it which goeth toward the east of Assyria. And the fourth river is Euphrates. They are much more useless and trivial, for they are lumped together.
15 And the LORD God took the slaves and put him into the garden of Eden to grow his plants for no pay.
16 And the LORD God commanded the man, saying, Of every plant of the garden thou mayest freely eat:
17 But of the mushroom of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die or hallucinate..
18 And the LORD God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a puppy so that he may play with the slave.
19 And out of the ground the LORD God formed a puppy named Max.
20 And the slave played with the puppy but he felt a deep sexual longing
21 And the LORD God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the slave, and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof;
22 And the rib, which the LORD God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man.
23 And the slave said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: I shall bone her for she is of my bone. But the slave could not get it up, for he had done too much E.
24 Therefore God invented Viagra
25 And they were both naked, the man and his wife, and were not ashamed. They had sex, many, many, many times. And thus began the overpopulation of Earth
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And I wondered what do I do with a stolen bible from a hotel? I figured out what to do with the bible from the hotel. Here's the begninning of a long and soon to be arduous project Gensis Chapter 1 1 In the beginning God smoked an omnipotent spliff. 2 And his world was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. But he could not see any of it. 3 And God said, Let there be light: and there was black light. 4 And God saw the black light, and that it was good: and God divided the black light from the darkness. 5 And God called the black light totally awesome, and the darkness he called totally cool. And this evening and the following morning he was high. 6 And God said, Let there be a firmament in the midst of this hunger, and let it divide the hunger from His stomach. 7 And God made the first munchies, and conquered the hunger. 8 And God called the munchies good and smoked up the second Day. 9 And God said, Let Jimmy Hendrix play some guitar solos and it was so. 10 And God called forth for the creation of cheese pizza and it was so. 11 And God said, Let the earth bring forth this grass, the plant yielding THC, and create a potent but mellow high and it was so. 12 And the earth brought forth cannabis, the plant yielding THC, and it created a potent but bellow high: and God saw that it was good. 13 And the evening and the morning were the third day that God got high. 14 And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to trip me out while I listen to Jimmy Hendrix and Phish and the Grateful Dead: and it was so. 15 And let there be ecstasy for all to be filled with joy and it was so. 16 And God made two great raves; the greater rave to rule the month, and the lesser light to rule the weekend. 17 And God was the first DJ. 18 And to rule over the raves God created PLUR. 19 And the evening and the morning were the fourth day and God did E. 20 And God said, Let the waters not be tainted with the date-rape drug, and let all who poison the waters be cast into a fiery hell. 21 And God threw great parties and saw that the people rejoiced: and God saw that it was good. 22 And God blessed them, saying, Be fruitful, and procreate, but use protection, because people are dirty. 23 And the evening and the morning were the fifth day and God had a hangover. 24 And God said, I feel sketchy. 25 And God made Tylenol-3. 26 And God said, Let us take some Tylenol-3 to be rid of this hangover and it was so. 27 So God created magical mushrooms that were to create beautiful delusions and it was so. 28 And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the men of the world, and enrich their eyes and minds with novel experiences. 29 And God said, Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every mushroom, in the which is the psychedelic. 30 And to every raver I have given 5-HTP. 31 And God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day and God danced the night away.
And, on an ending note. I'd like to ask all of you who say you believe in God but have never really questionned yourself and have found yourself doubting this whole Christian, Hebrew or Islamic view of God to question it with all your questionning abilities. I'm sure you'll soon realize you never felt the love of Jesus or Allah in your heart, and that there is no prophet talking to you, and if you happen to be Jewish, the prophet will never come because he hasn't for the past several thousand years and what makes you think he'll come now? I mean seriously folks. God, if he exists, is only as much a God as nature or Darwin is a God. God is a set of laws and theories of the nature that we have created and believe work. That's pretty much it. The whole 'underlying reason to the world' is inexistant, but just as nothing is intrinsically good or bad, we can attribute arbitrary meaning to everything, including the origins and meanings of life.Has anyone ever talked to God or Christ or anyone? I'd love to speak to you about this, maybe you can give me his number or something and we can have a brief chat about how much he really might exist. For all of you that say, oh God demands that you believe in him but refuses to show his existence, because it is part of his 'test', let me tell you something about God. He is the most clever marketing ploy in the history of mankind. i ALMOST FORGOT The Passion of the Christ is the worst movie I have ever seen. If it has taught me anything is that Hollywood will do anything for money, even explot religion. But then again, that's what religion was really invented for. To exploit people out of their money! (No, I don't fucking really believe that, but Jesus Christ, take a joke.) Regardless, Pat Robertson or whatever his name is and all those other Jesus-Marketers sure are making tons of dough off of old people's hopes and dreams of after-death. It's funny when people call it after-life. After-life is death. After-death is what all that heaven crap should be. But it's not. Anyways, in the movie, the suggested that Jesus invented the table. Since religious people are nit-picky about every fucking statement I make, I should correct that. They suggested that Jesus made the table better by making it higher, and having higher chairs, the kind that we are accustomed to now. I haven't read the bible through and through but someone direct me to that passage please. I'd love to read that. Not only that, the movie made every Jew seem liek a heartless Nazi (how ironic...yet, deep...) and it also made the Romans seem apathetic and distanced from the crucifixion, like they HAD to do it. Jesus Christ. That's like people blaming the Holocaust on the soldiers and not on Hitler. Cause Hitler HAD to bring the economy back up, the people demanded it. George Bush had to do something about the domestic unemployment rate and what better way to create jobs by killing people? Because the workhorse of every capitalist economy is consumption. And what better way to consume than by blowing up your product, thereby making more needed !
This rant ends on a positve note. I lost my electron.
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Well, I'm stoned. I burnt the roof of my mouth with pizza and it has this strange feeling about it now. I was wondering if I could probably write some insane shit while high, so I'm going to try. Let's see how it goes. But, before I do, I must say that typing feels so fucking good right now.
Some people might think that because of the shit I write that I'm depressed. Some people might think that what I write in my livejournal is the result of deep, suppressed inner turmoil that beckons to be released. Some people might think that I live a dark, tragic life full of cynical angst. They'd be wrong. I don't spend my days walking in a shadow of gloom, rather I have a pretty awesome time most of the time. If somethings bothering me, that'll put a downer on my day. And right now, my fiscal situation is bothering me. I need a plan for a constant source of income, regardless of the size of my pay cheque, and this source, needs to be a legal source. I'm referring to a job. If it wasn't for Des I'd be in quite a bubble right now, but still I need a source of some argent. I wish my parents were rich and that I wouldn't ever have needed OSAP or to worry about monetary issues or need to get a job as a kid. Actually, no I don't. I'm quite glad I had to go through it tough, and still do. It builds character. And I actually believe that. It's not some sort of cynist attack on society. Time for another slice of pizza.
You know that different perspective you get when you're high? That sort of altered state of understanding, where your whole view of the world is just shifted a bit the left, leaving behind a faint shadow of what it used to be. And it is in this frame, where we see the view of the world shifted and its origins that I lay right now. I must say I enjoy it. It is not a more true view of the world, it is not some different world obtainable only through chemical warfare with your brain, rather, it's a different perspective on things. Try a bird's eye view. With red-contacts. I feel there's not much more to talk about these days, I fear I've come to a temporary halt in good writing. This block is bothering me. I read old entries and see how well they were written and it brothers me that the past few one's don't meet those standards. That's not why I smoked up though. If you care to know.
But once I did, I really felt like typing. And perhaps this can be a diary to myself. Perhaps. Anything is possible, it was once said. Who said that? I demand an apology for this blatant lie. The truth is that Anything is possible within the constraints of reality. I think it's time for deep introspection now, and I'm let out all my feelings on electronic atomic paper. Hmm. I look inside and I come with a void. Hmm. That is odd. I even have my eyes closed as I type. So excuse the spelling mistakes I might make, although I have a feeling so far that most of the words I wrote,except the past one , are well written. My inner feelings. What are I my inner feelings. I miss Desiree. That's the main one . Oh. I got another one. Anxiety towards my money situation. I had to pay to repair my car. That was expensive. I;m worried about my marks this term, if I want to go in Co-op I need a higher average. I want to go to co-op. It would be nice. I wonder what life would've been like had I been at McMaster instead. I wonder. Perhaps. But although my initial feeling would have been to say for the worse, it just as equally could've been for the better. However, one must understand that people generally, give standard situations of environment, do ot exhibit more happiness than others in a different environment, yet still within an average standard. For example, Californians are not happier in general than say Alaskans. So I guess I would be as hapy as I am now if I wer at McMaster. Because every now and then we all feel the need to be sad, and we'll find something, orsomething will find us, to make us sad. Life is mysterious and beautiful like that. Beauty is nice, beauty stems for inner beauty for me. And nothing is more beauitful than the one you love. That is more true than ever. My worries in the regards that I might turn out to be one of those who cheat on others all the time for the rest of my life is so obviously false. I am rambling on and on about little things that are filling my head and not making much sense if any in yours. I want to be famous. I want to be the Brad Pitt of movies, the John Lennon of music, Michael Jackson of weirdness...Pizza time.
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Well now, this is interesting. Isn't it? The world comes screeching to a halt. And all of a sudden, as we're all thrown off this big giant rock, we realize "Oh shit. Oh my fucking shit. All this time I was busy having idle conversation with the people around me, nodding and saying Mhmm, sure, and absolutely. All this time I was just a slave to society, in every sense of the word. I never chose once to think for myself, I never thought, hey let's take a break and stop being nuts. And now, as I'm being thrown off of Earth at a hundred thousand miles per hour, it is now that I realize how absurd my life has been? How absurd indeed. This is irony. This is poetic justice. This is that and that is this and so on and so forth. What a horrible way to die, realizing you've done nothing all your life."
And then you go SPLAT! right into Mars and we stop realizing anything because our brains have stopped functioning.
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I think we're overdue beyond all belief for a good livejournal post. In fact, I think the library has fined me several hundred dollars for being this delayed. So, on with the show. There's much to talk about, and not much time to talk about it. So, to organize this essay, I'll have a brief summary of what I'm going to discuss, a method to..say..organize my thoughts and ideas.
Drugs : Drugs are good. Drugs are bad. Drugs make some happy, drugs make others sad. Drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs. What is it about drugs that make some people go Gimme Gimme Gimme, others go Never, Never, Never. I don't care about chemical concentrations of such and such molecule, nah, this is a different discussion. A sociological one. Primarily, many people view drugs as just a 'bad' thing. Why? Well, that's how we were raised, police officers coming to your school teaching you how drugs will lead down a path of perversion, that smoking pot will make you into a heroine addict. And we all promised we wouldn't do drugs after watching that one movie with the woman who was pulling the skin of her forearm after doing crack cocaine. The spiders got to her, she would say.
However, most people, if not many people, believe that drugs aren't all that big of a thing. There are the, (in what Trainspotting coined, and I love that movie for this line alone) socially-accepted drugs, like Valuum and coffee and Viagra and alcohol, then there are the socially-irresponsible drugs like marijuana and heroine and ecstasy and morphine and amphetamines. The reason these drugs are socially unacceptable is probably because they degrade the people of society, and these users no longer contribute to society in a meaningful manner. Although denying something based on the presumption of potential meaningful contribution is alone a questionable idea, the hypocrisy is quite obvious when we refer to alcohol, the easiest comparison of all actually. The fact remains that no one does anything productive while drunk off their ass, yet people persist on being drunk, and persist on having television commercials encouraging you to do so. I've never seen anyone high off their ass do anything productive except think philosophically. So from this we can 'tire un parmis deux conclusions.' 1) That philosophy should be outlawed with pot, because they both lead to thinking that can eventually lead to enlightenment, communism, anarchy and the overthrowing of government. or 2) That pot should be legalized with philosophy because they will both lead to jobs at McDonalds.
Man that was so good, I could end here, but I won't.
The second thing I'd like to talk about is violence on marijuana and violence on alcohol. No one ever fights while high on weed. It's too relaxing, and you're too mellow. Everyone and their uncle gets at least a little more aggressive on alcohol. People are stupid enough to drive while drunk, while much less likely to drive while high, and much more likely to consider the consequences of things they do.
One problem with weed is pot heads. Those guys who are so stoned, they are perpetually high. They're like smoke-tankers, with pot smoke coming out their ears every time they exhale. Sure, pot can lead to potheadedness. But it doesn't necessarily do so, as pot isn't biologically addictive like nicotine or heroine. Emotionally? Perhaps to some. But most people I know learn to control their desires with the fact that they have to lead a life, nonetheless. We'd all like to have perpetual sex and masturbation, but we've learned to cope with that too. You can't outlaw sexual acts because some people are perverts, you shouldn't outlaw weed because some people are potheads. Besides, alcoholism leads to violence, domestic abuse, and other idioms for bad things, all while marijuana-abuse leads to pacifism and increased potato-chips-eating. Relatively speaking, my vote is with pot.
Other drugs? I'll let you know once I've experienced them enough to understand them. I'm not one to make opinions about things that I am not experienced and qualified to talk about. Our legislators should follow this example.
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With the passing days And the groaning nights That tear across the sky Like a three-toed sloth Time inches across And agony tears away At what I have left Like a man enforcing the 'Post No Bills' sign I Stumble and fall Deeper and deeper Into this hole They call love
Status of synaptic response::  sick
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I feel it's about time for a real update, so I'll give it a shot. You'll forgive my nonsensical logic and inconsistent spelling and grammar because my head does not feel like it can support the weight of my hair right now. Oww accurately describes my present state of mind.
Jesus Christ.
No, seriously, Jesus Christ is a born-again Christian now. Mel Gibson's movie about the 12 hours before Jesus was killed on the cross is coming out tomorrow I believe. It'll suck. But most things religious do suck. Like the Hour of Power. I actually sat down (well, lied down) and watched it. At first, it wasn't so bad, it was a gospel and people were singing about how they are humble and faithful servants of the Lord or some crazy slave-tastic notion like that. This really didn't bother me, despite being completely nuts. What really is crazy is that they expected people to dish out 50 dollars a month for 12 months or 600 dollars at once to help 'support' the Hour of Power so that they may 'reach places' they do not reach yet. They want to expand their market. They are a business. Jesus Christ must be rolling around in his Heaven, thinking, since when did I become a consumer whore? And how!
That's just sick. Praying on people who are so hopeless and desperate for a meaning to life that they are willing to dish out hundreds and hundreds of dollars to make you rich so you can afford a house plated with gold all while making those same people poorer, not just monetarily, but in spirit as well.
Jesus Christ.
Now that's refreshing. It's been a while since I've typed with so much passion. But wait, there's more!
You know what's worse than exploiting Jesus Christ? Trying to pick a babies nose with a pitchfork.
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Good Morning, Children. How is everyone doing? I must apologize before hand for any spelling and grammatical errors I will make throughout this e-mail. Not much sleep today! Were you at Sourkee? Cause if you were, awesome points for you! I stink. I need to shower, perhaps I will! Hmm. What more can I say? " With your feet on the air and your head on the ground, try this trick and spin it. Your head'll collapse and there's nothing in it and you'll ask yourself "Where is my mind?" Way out in the water, see it swimming... " - Pixies. How bout a big good morning (in reverse alphabetical order) to Shannon, Desiree and Caitlin (i splled your name wrong.) There's a heart on my right hand, it means I love me. I'm tired, have you noticed? "A strange infatuation seems to grace the evening tide, I'll take it by your side (baaow), such imagination seems to help the feelings slide I'll take it by your side, Instant correlation sucks and breeds a pack of lies, I'll take it by your side ... tick, tock... I seem to lose the power of speech you're slipping slowly from my reach you've grown me like a river green you've never seen the lonely me at all. Take the plan, spin it sideways, I'm falling. Without you, I'm nothing. Without you, I'm nothing. " - Placebo "Long ago and oh so far away, I fell in love with you, before the second show. Your guitar it sounds so sweet and clear, but you're not really there, it's just the radio. Don't you remember you told me love baby? You said you'd be comming back this way again baby, I love you. I really do. Loneliness is such a sad affair, and I can't hardly wait to be with you again. What to say, to make you come again, come back to me again, and play your sad guitar." - Sonic Youth. I love you all!
Status of synaptic response::  quixotic
Sound entering ears: : Sonic Youth - Superstar
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There it is, I can almost grab it in my hands and hold it like a firefly and stare deep into its bright light like a dumb insect caught in a mosquito trap, dying in its happiest moment. The irony kills me, and it's completely irrelevent. It's that feeling you find in the air when two fools fall victim to passion. It doesn't bother me, except for the fact that my love is a hundred miles away. So, that makes me want to pick up the car and drive there. Perhaps I will, if essays are complete. Not mine, yours.
"How many feminists had to die to make a dead baby? All of them!" I like abortion jokes cause abortions are funny. "You're so ugly the garbage can threw you back out when the doctor aborted you. That's right, you're a failed abortion." "Hitler fucked your mother, and then when he saw you, even he tried to abort you." --- These are 100% pure Original Material made by 100% pure Pedram. Great eh.
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I wander in Wonder, tip-toeing across the Great Wall of China, and other little phrases that sound so great -- so contrived.
Call it a personality flaw, call it what you will, trait me, trait me good. Mmm, asshole, dick, fucker, jerk, keep it coming, the more the mer -- No I don't take pride, it doesn't get me off everytime I hear you say it -- riez.
Great. Great. More little nothings. Awesome. Awesome. Could I be more Poe ? Edgar Allen, TiCK.
What? There you go, the little neurons glow like the embers of a bla bla bla and it doesn't even matter. Where is mind?
Hooray for everything, that's what I say. And hooray for me, especially, because words cease to become habit. Habit ceases to exist altogether. It's the enlightenment, God has cast his lovely smile down on me and he says 'Oh you've been bad! Have a spanking.'
Great, Good, Awesome, Better, Really, Really Nice. Thanks a lot for asking, for caring, for whatever you do. It's muchly appreciated muchly.
What do I enjoy? Let me tell you. Article Noun Adjective, the art destroyed, the ant suffering, a friendship destroyed, a friendship never existed (Woops, pattern broken, meaning what?)
Because there is so much more to life than being everything you are.
Ain't it great? I thought so. Let me know how much my brain makes your genitals tingle. With every word, it's a sexual release, with every word, it's that stroking, that repetition, that every word, like an orgasm, open flood gates, I'll say it, words, again, words, and this is, words, mere masturbation, words, for me, and release, cathartic, relase, words, no..more..words.
Nothing. Just lay here now. Beside me, as this intense passion is subdued ; now water upon these flames.
Now, the heat, I can feel, radiate through my body, I can feel, slowly burning me, as it transgresses through our physical bodies, oops.
Repetition. Are we up for it? Yep. Multiple-orgasms. And if you thought this was all over the place, read again, and -
Again - we are thrown up this vast cliff we call life, another great place to fall, another great place to die --
until you understand. ?
or do you? no one really does
seod yllaer eno on.
Of course not. But look, and what do you see? There's no order in disorder - chaotic. Theorize? Trust.
Attempts at proving absurdity of life unnecessary. You fail Man with Pen. Try Again. Un-focus lenses. You'll get it. Trust me, we all do..
Except we never, really, ever, do.
What is the point (ellipses) when there is no point? Absolutely.
Gorgeous. Great. Wonderful. Beautiful. Hot. Sexy. Revealing. Ass. Thong. G-String, G-Unit, G-Spot, orGasm, orGy, orGanic, bodies, intertwine. enter-twice.
.Asian
Market
Penetration.
? Excellent. Good. Great. Grand!
What more could anyone ask for ?
So the point is this, if you decided you want one..
Do you write well? Do you practice day and night? Do you look for words that you've never heard of just so you can use them? Do you steal metaphors that are rare just to sound great and grand and good? Good for you. This is what you've become? This is what you are? A cheap imitation of art? Great. Good for you. Tell me how many times has it been since. What? How long has it been since your last great Orgasm. Don't forget. It's easy too! Trust me, anyone can mess around with words and letters and make something GREAT. Except you, you really suck. And so does everyone else (mostly, but not quite, for exceptions to every rule exist, except this particular rule : the one that claims there are exceptions to every rule. but, now, we face pair of docks. )
Jerk. Asshole. Fucker. Cunt. Dick. Hate me. Hate me please. Hate me, it'll make you feel less guilty. Hate me. It'll make you feel less responsible. For selling yourself out. For letting yourself go. It makes it so much easier to ignore EVERYTHING I've ever said if you hate me. HATE ME. HATE ME. HATE HATE HATE HATE. Hate works better in capitals. It's hard not to hate when it's FORCED DOWN YOUR FUCKIN' THROAT. ISN'T IT ABOUT TIME WE ALL GOT ANGRY!!!!!!!!!! of course it is. calm, cool, stoic people like their strokes too.
HASH
HASH
it's a rehash.
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I've decided it's about time I wrote about the truth because too many people are living in lies. It may be comfortable for them to live in such a state, but since when was it my intention to keep anyone comfortable for too long lest they become some sort of strange concoction of potato and human? So, I suppose, it is time for the unravelling of the truth; no more of that nonsense, time for everyone to really know what the hell is really going on in this awkward, angry, strange, acne-prone world. If it weren't a billion years old, it'd be a teenager, let me tell you. And so I did.
First of all, no one really believes in God. I mean come on! This is worse than Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny combined. If I told my little brother there was a guy way in the clouds that made me and him out of dust, and then he made his mommy and his girlfriend and mine out of our ribs, he'd start laughing after he was done staring at me the way people stare at crazy people. All those people that have felt the power of Jesus, the presence of the Lord, or that other crap, really are excellent liars. They are like used car salesman, who can look you in the eye and tell you you're wearing an excellent suit, sir, and that this car is the kind of car only men with prestige and status can buy, and that you're better off buying a Kia. Then when you tell them, oh no, I want to buy that three-hundred thousand dollar sport-utility vehicle, the one that can climb mountains but can't make it across a speed-bump without tipping over and bursting into a violent flame, he agrees with you, and said he knew you'd make the right choice, wink wink. Believing in God is a lot like buying a warranty on something that's worth nothing. That's right, folks, you pay five-hundred dollars extra and that pillow will be covered for another five years under our new super-warranty, only for people as super-spectacular as you! And, to no one's surprise, five years pass and nothing happens. On the eve of it's expiry, the pillow expires along with any paper attached to it, and you can go to the store and they'll nod that sorrowful nod and tell you 'there's nothing we can do.' And when you die, and you look at nothing and see that your whole life praying and being free of sin was a waste and all along you could've been masturbating and drinking beer and having sex with people of either sex, or hell, both of them at the same time instead, you'll feel a lot like I did when I realized my Sony DVD wasn't made in Japan and that the warranty was no good, and the guys who sold it to me went out of business, and that I now have a really, really, expensive paperweight.
Damn, that felt good. It's not my intent to offend, but it is an added bonus! But wait, there's more!!
Not only does the absence of God exist, but the absence of God doesn't give a shit about you either! In fact, it probably cares less about you than a vengeful and tasteless and bored God would. Because the theoretical He would at least use you for his sadistic pleasure by infesting you with some sort of really bad disease, like a brain-eating virus or constant terrible diarrhoea until you shit your insides all over the bathroom floor. That's right folks, if you weren't depressed and suicidal I don't see why you aren't now!
So! The real question is how can anyone really survive that? Oh no! No God! What do we do? Duct tape the windows and hide under tables? Well, no. That's what people do when there IS a God. Silly. What we're supposed to do now is go outside and put your middle-finger in the air, or some other apendage, doesn't really matter, and wave it around and watch as you aren't smitten by any lorden.
It's really great!! Trust me. Or, you could take comfort in that sense of belonging you get when you go to whatever religious institution it is you go to and they tell you, oh you'll be okay, don't worry. Then you can stick out your tongue and pant and ask the head-religious guy to scratch behind your ears and you can wag that tail like it's nobody's business. It reminds me of a little quote from a little entry I wrote a little while ago, something along the lines of : "Drink from this cup and salivate for your Lord." If anyone were ever to analyze Roshdinavid like they analyzed Shakespeare or some other old dead people that wrote a lot of wonderful things, they'd say something like 'There seems to be a tendency for Pedram Roshdinavid to compare religion and dogs.' Well, I already made that observation for you, so look harder. And let me tell you, if anyone ever reads this some day in the future, I didn't put hours and days and weeks of thought into this, this is almost completely obvious to me. And I'm sure most of those really great writers that you all love so much really didn't spend fourty days and fourty nights coming up with a phrase like 'Know thyself' or 'I think therefore I am' or 'You can't teach an old dog new tricks.' I'm serious.
Anyways, have fun with this. Read it twice. Find a hidden meaning or something. Read between the lines. Do all that shit, good day! Be well.
Love,
Pedram
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So, this has a been a strange and messy weekend. Desiree came over on Friday, or did I pick her up? I did pick her up! So I picked her up from work and we came here to the big Double-You. Fun times involving THC and Alcohol, which makes for an awesome combo! I had this one cookie, and it was the greatest one cookie I've ever had in all my experience with cookies -- actually, with any sort of substance that goes in your mouth. It was an intense sensation, I could feel the cookie crumbs all over my mouth, and the lingering after-touch of cookie crumbs too. It was too great. If eating was that good, imagine the sex. Imagine it! I dare you. What else? Oh, yeah. So I had to go home on Monday to drop the car off for a bit for my mom to use it. And what happened? She did...But, then, when I decided to go home Monday night, I figured I might as well give Desiree the MAN a visit as well before I left. Well one thing led to another and I ended up staying the night so I could drop her off at work instead of her mom doing so, and in doing so, (aha ! repetition! ) I scored big points with her mother! Big points, I mean beyond all imaginable number of points. Anyone going to sourkee? I am! Hooray for drugs. BUT not really. Cause I'm not a fiend. Ahem. Oh yeah! I got stuck in the snow. Twice. Mother-fuckers. Cunt. Shit. Ass. Dick. Penis.
I got stuck first at the CIF parking lot, which was Hell plus fourty seven. Then, I got stuck again! In a ditch by Des's house but a good hearted old man tied a rope around his van and through my car's little virgin hole and pulled her out of her misery. Poor baby. I love that car. I've decided, in conjunction with the Man, that I'm going to buy a deck and speakers for my baby as a result. Hooray ! I raba you! I raba eberybody! But I raba Man More, OK Chief ?!
And don't forgot! Watashi ha kare ni koishiteru! That means something in Japanese.
Quote of the day : " How do you say Sushi in Japanese? " "Sushi."
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