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Monday, January 31, 2005

Newness

New year (I just realized that, today, actually) =s new blog name and format. The other one looked too dark and evile and stuff, so here is the new blog. Don't worry. I'm still the same jerk with the same dumb rants, so hooray, or something.

Sunday, January 30, 2005

First Breath After Coma

Yes, I'm still alive. Now what?
What? You picked up the pieces of your shattered life in only one week?
Yes. It really wasn't that bad.
Well, you sure made a big deal about it!
Shut up!
You shut up!
Hey, you wanna go get a slushie, or something?
They still make those?
Yeah, I think.
Let's go!
Rock on.

Friday, January 28, 2005

LOOK OUT!

I'm back, sweetheart.

Sunday, January 23, 2005

For a little while

I don't think I am going to post anything here for a little while. I am really pissed off right now about something that I don't think will be beneficial to rant about. Don't worry, it's not any mistake I've made that I'm struggling with, it's just that something that affects me is pissing me off, and I have a headache. It's nothing new, or anything that's going to challenge the plans I already made. It's nothing new at all.
Take care.

Friday, January 21, 2005

Shituary

I hate the month of January.
It is like some screwed up, desolate echochamber of death.
NO, SERIOUSLY:
January 1995- My grandfather died, because of a doctor's mistake, which could have easily been prevented.
January 28, 2000- I got into an accident, and almost killed two people. One was a pregnant teenage girl with no money. The other was her grandmother.
January 10th, 2001- For no reason, other than the fact that he made people happy, someone senselessly murdered my dog.
January 2002- My friend Geralynn DeSoto was murdered by serial killer Derrick Todd Lee. Of course, no one knew she was murdered by Derrick Todd Lee at the time, and it took two years for that to come out, and for his subsequent trial. I didn't see her the day she was murdered. She came by the office to see us, but I wasn't there. I was at a funeral.
January 2005- Clean up (as they're saying) in Southeast Asia.
On a much lessor note: January 2005- My dog, Buddy, who had at least 50 lives, died.
All the debt from last year catches up.
Business is terrible.
It's as cold as Dante's ninth circle of hell.
If everything goes to hell, it usually goes to hell in January. Everything breaks, everyone gets sick. It sucks.
Every four years, it's the longest time before someone else can be sworn in for President, which always puts at least 50% of us Americans (and sometimes the world) out of luck.

But, the land is beautiful. Everything is dead, awaiting rebirth. The sky is a pantheon to gray, and the Earth is naked and bare. The sun, itself, becomes detatched from the light it sheds, and sometimes, when it sets, breathes colors into the atmosphere that should not exist in such a terribly dead world. Yet, each shade does exist, and somewhere, beneath the surface, life is ready to explode.
I am always waiting for life.

Why do I do this?

To vent. My opinion. Anyone who knows me knows my opinion is the only opinion I care about, and am interested in, anyway.
Basically, my opinion is a box of Honey Bunches of Oats, and anyone else's opinion is the trial offer for a spa that I glance at, then throw away. Meanwhile, I am pouring the Honey Bunches of Oats into a bowl, throwing some milk in there, and savoring every bite. The milk is my own self esteem, which my opinion floats high on.
You think I'm kidding?

Thursday, January 20, 2005

I am terribly shallow

So, last night I went to see "The Aviator" with my friend, Jon. My first comment after the movie? "Wow, that Kate Beckinsdale sure makes me want to fornicate!" Okay, actually, Jon, bless his heart, is doing reviews for LSU's campus TV station, and I didn't want to say anything about the movie to subject his opinion, so that was the only thing I could say (run on boy, duckin and dodgin, let me tell ya God Almighty gonna cutcha down). I was kidding anyway. I mean, she's married. Also, I don't have a snowball's chance in hell. Oh yeah, and she smokes. Yucky!
Anyway, good movie, I won't do a review, because I lazy (that intentional), but, since I like all incorporating things where I can just write short paragraphs, I am going to attempt to see every Oscar nominee in the best picture category and write a blurb about what I think is best. That's because my opinion matters...(snicker...slight nostril twitch...insane laughter). I think the Aviator will probably be nominated. It was preety good (all my mistakes are intentional, I'm just saying that now so you won't question me later).
I am in a state of blah, with a bit a bleh.
Also, history is made today. The Reagan 80's. The Clinton 90's. The W. 00's. No comment. The numbers don't lie. Since I came of age in the 90's (8-18), they are my favorite. To be honest, though, does anyone ever really come of age? I have had someone tell me "You are finally a man!" like 10,000 times. Yet, my mom still calls me "boy." Aww...
In my opinion, I'm just an anomoly with male reproductive organs, and a sex drive that favors women. Hooray! Perhaps, someday, I'll make some film that asks the question, "What makes a man, a man?" because, I'm pretty sure a base instinctual desire to nail Kate Beckinsdale does not make me a man.
I'm going to go eat some cake, now.
Sweet dreams, Sad Machines.

Sunday, January 16, 2005

R.I.P.

Buddy
2001-2005
True dawg in Life
True dawg in Death

Thursday, January 13, 2005

Are you relevant?

Because, if you aren't, you are apparently a terrible Christian.
Does anyone beside me feel like an outsider who is misunderstood by everyone, especially by people that think they "understand" you? I'm sure someone out there feels that besides me.
And maybe, like me, there is something, something you can't articulate, or even fully understand that pisses you off. Well here is one of my "things" and I'm going to try to articulate it here. You are warned. Here goes:
A year ago, I got a subscription to Relevant Magazine (and bear with me here, this whole thing ain't about a magazine). It seemed cool. They were all "counter-culture" and such. Their motto is "God. Life. Progressive Culture." Relevant seemed like something I'd like, but something weird happened. Everytime I read the magazine I would get really angry, and at first I couldn't figure out why. Then, after the second or third issue (out of six), certain things began to dawn on me. At first, it was surface issues. I got tired of seeing the fashion models standing next to the article titles. They all had perfectly gelled hair, and slick mall bought clothes. I have uncontrollable Mediterranean hair. The only stores I enter in the mall sell video games. Also, the Relevant models were very good-looking. Damned good looking, if you get my drift.
Next, the writing started to aggravate me. First, in the music articles. Here is an example, taken from the opening of an article on the band Explosions in the Sky, written by Jesse Carey. Opening paragraph, "The artist Peter Brooks once said, 'We live immersed in narrative, recounting and reassessing the meaning of our past actions, anticipating the outcome of our future projects, situating ourselves at the intersection of several stories not yet completed.' Explosions in the Sky provide the soundtrack to an uncompleted narrative. Their brand of indie rock depicts an epic without words with soaring guitars, haunting bass and theatrical drums." ...
Okay. Maybe some of you thought this was fine writing. Maybe it was. Personally I thought it was not. That is not my point. My point is, who cares what Peter Brooks says? I'm sure Mr. Carey and the cadre of Relevant music writers put time into thinking of cool quotes to open their pieces with, but what do they think, (cliche time) I was born yesterday? Do they think the praise of some artist I'm obviously not cool enough to have heard of is going to wow me? This music article sounds like it's being written as a high-school essay. I'm not picking on this guy in particular, a lot of Relevant's articles start off in this fashion, but again, maybe this is just personal taste. My own paragraph here was a bunny trail, I'm sorry, here is my main point:
When I was five years old, my mother gave me a book. I don't quote it to be cool or anything, I do it because it has everything to do with what I'm saying. In fact, if not for this book, I would have nothing to say. Plus, it's really good, and I heard it was a best seller. One of my favorite passages reads:
All things continue the way they
have since the beginning.
The same things will be done
that always have been done
There is nothing new here on
earth. (under the sun)
Anyway, since Relevant magazine would not exist without the afore-quoted book, I figure this quote is pretty pertinent. Here is the issue I take with Relevant, and several others. Okay, wait, not yet, one more hippity-hopping trail:
For a while, I thought I was searching for something: Some truth that would make everything make sense, something to make my faith easier to live for, simple, more effective, more..."relevant." I read in message boards that people were disgusted with fellow Christians, and were no longer calling themselves Christians, but "followers of Christ." For a while, this seemed cool to me. I thought, "if I could just find some cool Church on the Internet that gets what things are supposed to be about, that gets the way things are today. If someone was just with it." Then, something dawned on me: (yes friends, this is a colon party!)
All the things I found on this search seemed cool at first, but then got really, really, irritating, including my Relevant Magazine experience. All of these supposedly new, cool things, weren't anything new at all. They were the same trendy kaka that most of us (certainly I) get sucked into. There really is nothing new under the sun. Christianity isn't going to get any easier, or more "relevant" for us. All of this supposed "new way of thinking" is just fresh bullshit from the same old cow.
Something that has nothing to do with bullshit (or cows): God came to Earth as a human being in the guise of a male Jewish carpenter named Jesus. Jesus died on the cross for our sins, and then rose again. That's it. Yes, there are a whole lot of things that go with this, but when you dig down to it, this is the simple unchanging truth. You can dress Jesus up in A & E. You can give Jesus some dreadlocks and jump in the air and piss your pants everytime someone in the*gasp* gangster rap community sings about Him (and get all excited about those cool "Jesus is my Homeboy" t-shirts). Guess what? Nothing has changed. You're not going to find some trancendant truth or understanding by being "relevant."
Forget (In the editing of an R-rated movie on T.V. sense) "relevant."
Be yourself as God created you to be. Besides, if God wanted you to be "relevant" he wouldn't have given you such unmanageable hair.
On a side note, though I am not continuing my subscription, I must say some things in defense of Relevant Magazine: (gotta squeeze in one more colon, don't I!)
a. There actually is some good writing found therein (I really like Winn Collier)
b. They do champion good charity causes and suggest ways to get involved
c. Their heart really does seem to be in the right place, and I am sorry I picked on them so much here. They really do have some good things to say. I just don't need to hear them anymore.
Now, I am going to go back to my imperfect life, trying to live as God wants me to live, failing, rising up on Christ's shoulders, and trying again. If you can live with this "harsh" reality, as I am doing, go for it, there really is nothing like it.

Sunday, January 09, 2005

Coincidence?

So, I was in church today, and the subject of racism comes up. Weird. I was just ranting about it, nine hours before (see below).

Saturday, January 08, 2005

State's Rights

Here in Louisiana, talk/call-in radio is huge. It is hillarious. I can't believe some of these people can actually count high enough to use a phone. My favorite people to make fun of are the neo-Confederates, or as I like to call them: "State's Righters." These people are geniuses. They will argue for hours that the civil war was not fought over slavery. It was fought over "state's rights (those with the worst twang say "ri-aughts)." Sure it was. Let me break this down for you:

North: Slavery isn't very good.
South: Nah, aw! It is good.
North: Not really.
South: Yes it is! We enjoy benefitting from a system where an entire race of people is marked inferior, forced to work against its will without pay, has its families ripped apart, and is raped and murdered. We think it's cool. It's our state's rights.
North: Well, eventually this country is going to vote to get rid of slavery, cause we don't want it, and none of the new states or territories do either. The majority doesn't want it, and eventually, this nation is going to get rid of it.
South: Like hell! It's our state's rights to oppress an entire race. We quit America.
North: We can't let you do that.
South: Try and stop us.
North: Okay.

Yes, dumbasses. It was state's rights. What a proud heritage we have.

State's rights? Can someone, anyone, tell me another state's right that was in peril here? I can't seem to find one. Don't give me this auxiliary "our way of life was in danger" crap cause for war. We fired the first shots. I'm not going to start blowing up Wal-Marts because they're cramping my Bohemian style.
I had relatives who fought on both sides. Do I have Southern Pride? Well, I love the land I live on, I love how friendly most of the people are here(at least here in the sticks, where I live), but I'm not proud of the Civil War. As to my ancestor's roles in the Confederacy, I'm not proud of what they did. I've come to terms with it, though. But, seriously, how the hell can you be proud that your great great great grandfathers fought to insure that black people stayed slaves? It's not like your great great great grandfather just died, and you're grieving. Are criminals' children proud of their parents' crimes? Of course not. But do they still love them. They should. We can't change the past, but trying to re-write it is futilely stupid. There was no Lost Cause. The South fought because they thought slavery was in danger. They lost. Thank God. The end.
Oh, and another thing. On the Confederate flag issue: These neo-Confederates argue that the entire U.S. had slavery, so the U.S. flag is just as bad. News flash, morons: The United States made slavery illegal. The Confederacy (which lasted four years) maintained and fought to keep slavery. Maybe if the South would have won, realized the error of its ways, and gotten rid of slavery your "rebel" flag would not be offensive. But that is not the case.
The rebel flag served as the banner for a nation (not recognized) that only existed because it wanted to have slaves. No wonder most African Americans find it offensive. It says to them, "Hey, remember that time when the rest of the country wanted to set you free, so we tried to start our own nation so we could keep you in bondage? Look at our failed nation's old flag. Isn't it a beautiful flag?"
I know I sound bitter. I admit, the amount of African blood in my veins is miniscule (probably less than 10%) compared to the amount of European blood, and I've only known about my African ancestry for less than a year, so I am coming at this mainly from an angry white guy POV, but seriously, this has been pissing me off for a long time.
Sorry if I ruined somebody's party, but actually, really, I'm not. You tell black people to get over the Civil War, and then you wave your goddamned flag right in their face. How are they supposed to feel? If you want black people to move on, then let them. Stop clinging to ideals that never existed and do your best to make the world a better place, instead of wallowing in the filth of the past.
-Sunbeams are not made like me.

Tuesday, January 04, 2005

HAHAHAHAHA!!!

Okay, I don't usually like to revel in the misfortune of others, but I feel this is valid.
So, I'm watching the Orange Bowl -USC vs. Oklahoma- and it's a blowout. Whatever. Then, the halftime show starts, and who is the headliner but Ashlee (don't you just love the way she spells it!) Simpson. Well, as expected, her voice sounds absolutely retched, and she trips through her already horrible song, bum note after bum note vomiting from her throat in a gurgling stream of bad taste. She even tries to get all Joan Jett or Karen O. gritty with it, but this only sounds worse, as if she is grunting at the painful sound of her own voice. Then it happens. Her song finally ends. I only know this because I see her band stop playing. I could not hear them. The booing was too loud. That's right. Even I felt bad for her.
If you look down two entries (or have picked up on my subtle jibes thus far(I'm kidding)), you can see that I don't have much love for the Simpson sisters. Ashlee's album is approaching 4 million sold. Her record label/creation machine spent enough money making her talentless act popular enough to fund 20 bands that actually deserve it.
Somehow, though, when close to 100,000 people simultaneously booed Ashlee Simpson an hour ago, I wasn't full of excitement. I was full of pity. But, the pity went away, and here I am. We have raised many people to a level of fame they do not deserve. I've been picking on the Simpson sisters lately, but that's just because they've been in the news the most, lately.
So, here is my request to you: Say you like one of Ashlee's singles. Say you've decided to get her new album, but haven't bought it yet. Think about where your $15 is going. Where is Ashlee going to spend it? Where is her record label going to spend it? Where is the store you bought it from going to spend it? Then look at the world around you. Do you really want to do this? No, you don't. You want to take your money and spend it on something nice. You want to pay me because I am blackmailing you for wanting to buy Ashlee Simpson's album. I guarantee you I will spend your money on something better. Like milk duds. Good night.