more quality stuff

quality stuff

And then there was one

One post to write. I don't think I'll stop blogging after the year is over. Call me crazy. I like blogging. I used to hate it. I mean really hate it. Hate it so much I could have killed it by giving it the boots. Look up the boots if you don't know what I'm talking about. It's a medieval torture method.

Things to talk about, I have many things to say. Things like this and things like that, things like a kiss, or a pat. Things over here, and things over there. Things are everywhere! All of these things are a song that sings, and some of these are my favorite things. Some of them are big, some of them are small, but size does matter not at all. Some of them are old, some of are new, but in regard to this I do not eschew. Things exist, some of them don't, but pretend not to pretend I won't. The thing about things that matters most, is not whether it is a hat, a rat, a cat, or post, but that we do enjoy them, to the utmost. Things to hear and things to say, whether you are near or far away, things with which to play; things are things anyway! Things that jump and things that hop, some that thump and others that pop! Things to climb and things to bound, or to just run around. Things to shine and other to gleam, oh how they do make me beam! Things to study and others to learn, how some of us (no, not all) for this do yearn. Some to observe and some to act, all of these things are in fact!

Kill do some and others do create, and for the latter I do elate, for this time we have is not of right, and should not be used for spite.

I do say but I will declare, that that poem is fucking badass-aire.

I have things to tell and others to tale, but that would make a whale!

Seriously though, I need to stop rhyming. Orange. Silver. Hippopotamus.

Okay, good. What to waste my word count on now. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I know!

I have road rage. I have some pretty noticeable road rage. It's probably not a good practice, to be set off by one little thing. I don't like stupid drivers. I don't like dangerous drivers. It seriously bothers me. It is one of my pet peeves. I get pretty worked up about it. Even when I'm not driving, like now. But the thing I was going to say, was; I have road rage, yes, but I also have road happy. When I'm driving and I see a good driving practice or courteous gesture, I go out of my way to give them a thumbs up. Have you ever done that? Do it next time. Instead of staring blankly at the person you're passing on the interstate, shoot 'em a thumbs up and a smile, it'll make their day. I'm being completely serious. Unless they're being stupid, then flip 'em the bird and cut them off. And then speed up and cut them off again while they're trying to avoid plowing into you. Because bad drivers just aren't okay, and the only way to solve the problem is to create a more dangerous situation. Learn to drive people. Learn how to fucking drive. You should never, never, never, be following more than two seconds behind someone, unless you are JUST about to pass. NEVER! Do not crowd people. Do not crowd in an intersection. Don't, don't, don't turn in front of people. Hold a line. Drive straight. Seriously, it's damn dangerous when you are just wandering willy-nilly in your lane, even out of your lane. When merging into traffic, GIVE TRUCKS ROOM! Semis will run you the fuck over. They can't slow down nearly as effectively as other vehicles, and many times their only option of avoiding an accident is to swerve. If they swerve to miss you, they might hit someone else. If you're merging and you see that you are ahead of a truck, give her the beans! Get ahead of him, well ahead of him. Often times trucks are going at the speed limit or slightly under, and you can get ahead of them. Not all the time though. Some truck drivers are in a real fuckin' hurry goin 80 or more.

Coast. Your foot does not have to be on either the brake or the gas at all times. Holy fucking shit. Brake smoothly. Do not do all of your braking in the 100 feet before the next guy's bumper. Do not, do not, get right behind him! When people do that, I wanna back up into them. Fucking idiots. All that does is create congested intersections and more precarious jams. Okay? Just go with the flow. Do not crowd. Do not crowd. Do not crowd. That's probably the most important thing I can say about this whole thing. When people crowd me, I load up my brakes and then bury the gas to prevent them from hitting me, and it's worked so far. It is fucking annoying. Do not crowd people. Do not.

Know your vehicle. Know where your power band is, if you drive an automatic, know how to feather the gas just so. If you drive a manual, you already are way ahead of many people when it comes to power, acceleration, braking and such. Do all of your braking before you turn. Any friction used to decelerate cannot be used to turn. Have decisive movement through an intersection. That doesn't mean stop the gas, that means don't dawdle. Move effectively. When taking off from a stop sign, it's hugely inefficient to stomp all up and down the gas pedal. Brake in stages. Like I said earlier, do not have on continuous braking motion. To stop the most efficiently and smoothly, brake and the release, brake and release, again, and again, and just before you stop you need to brake, release, and then brake very gently. This obviously takes more time and requires a greater distance than one motion, but it is more efficient, easier on your brakes, and your passengers will appreciate the smooth stop.

Learn to drive. Don't be stupid. Use common sense. My blood pressure is through the roof.

I eat my snack

This is an unnecessary text post. I suppose I could just type this and be done, but I don't want to go to bed that bad.

It's Sunday. I fixed my car today. It didn't take much. And I put oil in it. So that was tons of fun. And then there was the next sentence and it was made of words that said things. Then there was the one after it, which explained the last sentence or qualified it or expanded on the idea previously explained. Maybe it served as an segue into the next paragraph...

We're into new territory! This is a new idea, a slightly different topic of discussion or aspect or perspective. And then there are more sentences that drag on forever and ever, unyielding and constant, like an in-laws dissatisfaction with you, only resolved into death's cold embrace, and then nothing.

Why can't you play Uno® with Mexicans?



Because they steal all the green cards. Ba-zing.

Nailed it

another, and another, and then eight more

I didn't study for those tests. I killed two birds. And then set things on fire.

I spent that whole day doing things I hadn't done in a long time. I shot things, burned things, shot more things, looked at things I hadn't looked at in a long time, and maybe most importantly I found my suit pants I had been looking for. I had been looking for them for months and I found them in the same closet as my suit jacket. Made me feel smart.

And now I lost my thought process. It's nearly the end of the year. So that's cool. I have two AP tests, woo hoo. I should do fine on both of them. And that's all I'm going to say about that.

I feel like going for a run. But I'm not going to. Because it looks windy.

And then there was the eighteenth sentence. Which is actually this one. I'll give you time to count. Which is a stupid thing to say, because I have no influence on the relative time it takes you to read something. It's not like I can move on before you're ready.

And we're in to the next paragraph with no subject matter. And another sentence. And then another, and another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another.

I just had an overwhelming feeling of fatigue. It feels weird.

I have started to listen to a lot of classical music lately, and it is just lovely. Seriously one of the best things ever. I keep leaning my head back on the couch for some reason. Maybe I'm flustered. I don't know. I do know that I am currently staring at the ceiling typing this and I'm doing a fantastic job. I look up every so often to check that I'm not making any spelling mistakes. And I'm doing pretty well so far. And it's odd, that I find it easier to type while I'm not thinking about the words on the screen. I'm looking at the little rough things on the ceiling. And they seem like they're having a pretty good time. If only writing was always like this. Done in such a way that doesn't create stress such that distracts you from whatever it is you're trying to communicate. In typing these words without looking I think is amazing that I can type just as fast as I always do with relatively the same accuracy. I missed the period on that last sentence. And now I'm looking at the words as they appear on the screen, but I'm not typing any faster (or slower) and I'm making the same amount of mistakes. In doing all this analysis of my typing I'm realizing that the people who tried to teach me to type the "right" way were wasting their time and did next to nothing to expedite one's natural acclimation to something done almost every day.

I'm developing post content! My hands are not on the right keys when they are at rest. And I never use the left shift key. My left hand doesn't even know it's there. It's only my right pinky that knows how to automatically hit the shift key when starting a sentence. Or obviously capitalizing anything else. And that too is kind of fascinating.

People who say they type for all speed and accuracy is not a priority are using an equal amount of time as someone who types relatively normally and makes fewer mistakes. Those people bother me. Those and people who punch the keyboard with their fingers when they type. I want to learn to play the piano. Because the piano seems like a pretty cool thing to do.

When the aliens come here I would like to think they're like the Aztecs. The Aztecs had gold, huge temples, waterworks, complex agricultural systems, and amazing artwork. But they had no iron tools, no beasts of burden, no advanced weaponry. The Spanish had everything they lacked. Iron, gunpowder, horses, all the things that we usually assign normal status to. The aliens are the Aztecs because they will have solved the problem of interstellar travel, possibly intergalactic travel. And they would've found us. But they wouldn't have things like microwaves or personal computers. Or toasters. Or other common household appliances. And then we would win. Because any contact with extraterrestrial life must result in a war of the worlds. That would be crazy, if Gears of War or Halo actually happened. We would be the Spanish and our diseases and atmosphere would do the work for us in killing them all. And then we will all be rich and have vast amounts of new knowledge at our disposable with which to advance our own society. Space cash.

I need four hundred more words. What oh what to say.

I'm going to make an RPG with lasting injuries. By the end of the game you would have one arm, half of the screen would be blurry because you got shot with an arrow in one eye, you would have fainting spells from a trauma injury to the brain...I think I like this idea. And you will be able to get drunk. Severely drunk. Belligerently drunk so as to beat someone to death unintentionally. That would be an interesting game feature. Have the character do random things. Like shout obscenities at passers-by and push people over, pick fights. In dialogue they would choose to insult instead of whatever you chose. And when you're dying they will talk to the player directly. Saying things like, "holy shit you're terrible at this game," or "who gave this idiot the controller?" And then whenever you die the screen will be a bunch of car commercial-esque block lettering and shouting that says "You fucking suck! Your body was eaten and digested by buzzards, spread across the land in the form of buzzard shit! Would you like to try again?" And each time you die it would be a different thing. I'll write 1,000 different death sequences, and then when you hear all of them you get an achievement. Yes.

I have this pesky thing in my back that keeps coming back. I can crack every vertebrae in my back now, even the first lumbar and the upper thoracic. But this thing doesn't go away. I don't know what to do other than be annoyed. I'm writing now for purely filibustering fluff that doesn't make any sense. Jelly. Guitar. Leukemia. Chain. Art. Clothing. Kinetics. Giraffe. Juicebox. Responsibility. Water. Plastics. Monkey. Europe. Thai food. Moped. Scarf. Statue. Ship. Lamp. Apple. Serenade. Sword. Stairs. Headphones. Cold. Anatomy. Scary. Axe.

Almost there. I'd like to finish with something that is coherent. I've talked about typing while looking away, alien invasions and making a video game. Weird that I think of this stuff. Oh well.


I really want to learn to play the piano.

also on my party playlist

on my party playlist

just because

I think this may serve a purpose. Shit, I have to make a phone call. I made the call. Everything is fine. Wouldn't that be weird if two mobsters burst through the door and beat the shit out of me right now? That would suck. But it might be mildly entertaining. I'm gonna write a movie.

I'm actually already writing a movie. And I think it's really going to blow. But, that's how it goes. I was sort of surprised to see how much of my own personality goes into something I create, even if I tried to make it appear not so.

I like quality people. I like people who are of quality. I kind of like high society, I guess, but there are many aspects I don't like so much. There are also parts of lower society that I really love, but again, parts that I really hate.

I like quality people because quality people like other quality people. And I like it when people like other people. I like it when people are good. And not necessarily good in the sense of always doing what is right or avoiding drugs or fraternization, although those are often not associated with good people, but in the sense that what they do and what they say and what they think is good, of high quality. Good people, man. When I meet good people I really like it. People who are competent, intelligent, composed, attractive. I just love them. I talked with one such man the other day, and I tell ya it was great. I live in a part of the country where the mediocre come to live out their days, so interacting someone not so mediocre is exciting. I sound like an elitist bigot. So sue me.

You ever seen that movie The Core? It's completely and wholly scientifically false, and on top of that, the black guy dies. I remember seeing it a long time ago, when I was younger. And I don't remember how it turned out or how they made the core start spinning again.

Ya know what I think I will modify my qualifier(s) for good people, and in that capacity I would say being competent is the most important thing. I work with some incompetent people. And that just irritates me. They say job markets will be more and more competitive now and into the future, but with as many incompetent or unskilled workers I see, I'm not too worried, and I wouldn't be worried if I were you.

The weather is nice today. The wind is blowing, which is good. It would really suck if the wind just stop blowing. Forever. And ever. Never any more wind, ever. That would be a sad thing. If the giant at the edge of the Earth ran out of breath, hemorrhaged from an artery fell over and died. You would actually be dead before you hit the ground in that case. Well, clinically dead. Your brain would still be warm and sort of able to think for a little while after that.

It is amazing how dramatically something as simple as the size of the room you are in can effect your mood. I'm sitting in a fairly large room with several windows, and I tell ya it's just great. I wonder how people with no windows or few windows deal with that. I can see a long ways out the window. People in the city can't see as far out their windows. Even if you're on the top floor of a tall building you see mostly city. And I think that's interesting. Cities.

They're a wonderful thing. I love the city, but there are certain parts of it I could do without. Do you really want to hear about this? It really doesn't matter, and in writing this I'm just wasting time and fluffing the word count while I think about whether or not I feel like developing some meaningful thoughts on the subject.

I have only 669 words. This is taking forever and a day. Oh well.

I've decided I don't feel like talking about cities right now. I think if I were to just tell you about my thoughts, as in say them to you, I would find that much easier than writing them. Text, in any form, is the most limited form of communication. 80% of our interpersonal communication is done via body language, the rest is filled with spoken meaning. There are so many more aspects that go into spoken and acted communication than written communication. I mean it's fascinating that we have come this far in being able to communicate our ideas with little symbols called letters making words making sentences making paragraphs making chapters of books of series of epics and poems and plays and manuscripts, but we're still limited. We are limited in that there is inherent subjectiveness in reading something. In hearing or seeing something (music or visual media), there is less subjectiveness, and with conversation, there is less yet. Speech is our most direct and effective way to state explicitly what we mean. However, we have created these courtesies and conventions that get in the way. Instead of telling someone that shirt looks terrible on them, we may hint at a different color or something. We have become polite in society. I remember being a kid and what ever random thing popped into my head came out of my mouth. And I think if people did that more the world might be a slightly better place. I think of the movie The Invention of Lying starring Ricky Gervais. The movie is really funny, but aside from that it exposes how much we actually lie. That obviously causes you to think if our lying is really necessary or beneficial. And I think many times it just gets in the way of clear communication. It isn't really blatant lying, so much as it is fudging the truth in the sake of humility or politeness. That's what I think.

I encountered a real asshole on the road today. And he was an asshole. I was probably an equal amount of asshole back at him, but that's beside the point. People need to learn how to drive. Seriously the American condition of driving is terrible. We think we need safer cars or better roads or stricter laws and what we should do is incorporate a more comprehensive and rigorous driver education program. These are not the 50's, when everybody is a good ol' boy and we all love America and the standards for everything are not priority because we're all making money. Finland has an amazing driver education program. And it doesn't suck like our. That's right, it's good AND it doesn't suck. That's like two qualifiers that constitute it to be great, maybe even fantastic. I don't feel like telling you any more about it, so Google it.

And just like that I have nearly 1,200 words. By the end of this paragraph I will have enough words for this week's text post to be done and I can go enjoy my weekend, woot. I have four huge tests to study for. That's what I'll do once I'm done with this paragraph. Which is.........NOW!

Boom. Roasted.

generic title

There are so many other things I could be doing right now that would be more productive than writing this blog post, but I could give two less shits about that stuff. It's kind of interesting, to see how I've come to really enjoy writing blogs posts, even if they are completely sporadic and ill-conceived, biased, offensive, and generally not well put together. But I like it. It's fun to say things you wouldn't normally say or don't have any appropriate situation in which to express such things. And I think it serves a purpose. Don't know exactly what that is...but fuck it.

I. I -- I don't know what to say. I don't have any great tyrannical rants to bombard you with. I don't have any sweeping hand gestures with which to amaze and distract you. Sigh.

I know that's why people write about simple things. Tiny little events or miscellaneous happenings in the world. Because it's too much work to always write all the time about something big and heavy and revolutionary and amazing and revealing. Right now I feel as if I'm becoming winded. And it's ironic, that I'm writing about writing about easily comprehended or whimsical things with an attitude to the contrary. I'm doing it again. I'm boiling things down to their philosophical root and raving about things. Woo hoo.

Jeez, man. I can hear the blood pulsing in my ears. Is that normal? I don't know. It's annoying.

We're supposed to right another essay and I have no idea what I'm going to write about. I have no Mountain Dew left in my can. This saddens me. I don't know what about other stuff I'm supposed to say now. That sentence was completely automatic in its inception. It was pretty cool.

I just wanna go somewhere and sit. I want to sit and relax on a beach somewhere way off the grid. I want to go to paradise, get belligerently drunk, and sit and watch the world. That sounds like an old person thing to do. But I would do it. I would wear a light blue button-down and cargos, some sort of light footwear, no sunglasses. Okay sunglasses. I would go to an island in a primitive craft, land there, and sit under the shade of the trees. And then just sit. And watch. And wait. That sounds so nice. Away from the rest of the world.

That was a weird feeling I had yesterday. It's tomorrow now, from yesterday's perspective, so I'm writing this with a different general feeling now.

I feel like I might get excited again. No, I know that it's the best thing to do. Kick in the crotch. That sounds painful.

I went to a city the other day. And it was interesting. Urban layouts interest me. Not so much interest me as I find them interesting. I saw more people moving about than I had ever seen outside of school. Now I'm annoyed because I have something mildly interesting to express but I think if I execute it in such a fashion as I was just about to, I'll find it insufferable and I'll throw this computer out the window, killing a pedestrian gruesomely. We wouldn't want that now would we?

The little bits of skin-like material that grow in around your fingernails are annoying. I just want to file it all away.

I look around and I see lots of talent. I see lots of creative and practical, genuinely helpful talent. I see unlimited potential. But realizing potential requires effort. Effort equals energy expended, and that makes headaches. And headaches are uncomfortable. And being uncomfortable fucking sucks. So people don't realize their potential. That and the great game of life we play gets in the way, even actively works to limit one's realization of potential. And that is just a shitty deal.

Why do I have this bipolar world view? One minute the world is wonderful and smells of fruit, the next it's a dark hole full of a mixture of cold water and shit. And I mean literally shit, as in the stuff that comes from an anus.

Music fascinates me. Bad music is way too on the radio too much. It's everywhere. And rock music really sucks anymore. I like rock. And some of the new rock is seriously painful to listen to. It fucking sucks. Nickelback, every other band that fits that unoriginal, generic, description with no guitar solo or really any intricate or complicated musical anything, just die. Seriously you suck.

I tell things they suck a lot. I try not to tell people that. But some people really do sucky things. I had to sit through some presentations recently and it was absolutely atrocious. I can't watch people who suck at speaking in front of people. I get embarassed for them. Reading from a paper is one of the worst offences. I can read a paper myself. I can read text in any medium for that matter, it's the presenter's job to bring an element that isn't found in the information itself. That's the whole idea. Make it memorable, make it powerful, make the information gain a dimension that it doesn't have by itself. I'm repeating myself, but this shit is important.

If I am ever a teacher everything is a presentation. You don't just give an answer, you present an answer. You are selling me an answer. Everyone is trying to selling everyone else something. Not in the literal sense of the word, but we are trying to convince many people, sometimes everyone, of one or another. We do this in our dress, our hairstyles, or smells, everything about ourselves. Many people are not very good at selling themselves to people. Those who aren't relatable, social, attractive, warm or funny. Or even interesting. Yup.

I have 974 words, in case you were wondering.

Cartoons destroy linear thought, and generally disintegrate one's cognitive function altogether. My kids will not watch TV. It's fucking terrible for a developing mind. Really not good. Not beneficial to a young child. Not beneficial to anyone for that matter. Fast-changing screens are not cool. Bright colors, also not cool. The two put together? Terribly detrimental combination.

The universe pretty well fascinates me. And I really like music. I really like music. One thing I never understood is how the very basis of music works. I mean, I know how music evolved, sort of. But Who decided that an E note is this frequency or that? Where were the definitions first formulated? Why do we agree on those? I don't understand many parts of music and I would really like to study more of it. But I almost worry, that if I study something and come to discover x number of truths and gain an understanding, I won't be fascinated anymore. The excitement is not in knowing, but knowing that you don't know. The excitement is all in the pursuit of the unknown, in the chase to know something or do something or find something. And that in itself is interesting because I know that I know that, but I still find it exciting that I know that. Sort of ironic, isn't it?