I made a joke that only I laughed at.
the joke was hilarious to me.
the joke made so much sense to me.
it was funny to me so i laughed as everyone watched me collapse in laughter
they gave me looks like, "thats not funny at all. you're stupid."
i kept laughing and thought, "life is a joke that only you laugh at."
and directing the statement in the 2nd person, i thought, "how fucking sad".

New Songish

Made a new song out of these songs, it might be "not bad" or "interesting"

Osaka Loop Line - Discovery
What Up Man - Cool Kids
Distant Love - Burial
White Winter Hymnal - Fleet Foxes

check it out

In the train station, Jarrett reads a story about a thrifty Giraffe in Eastern Europe. He was not only a Shaman, but he also owned a country store. One day, a Crocodile businessman visited the Giraffe Shaman’s country store before a long journey into Asia Minor. The crocodile businessman wished to acquire supplies and rations for his trip, but the Giraffe Shaman’s country store was empty. The Giraffe Shaman said that he had no supplies but that he too, would be embarking on a long journey in a few days and that he could meet the Crocodile Businessman with food and rations before he went hungry. The Crocodile Businessman skeptically left on his journey, keeping a vague faith in the Giraffe Shaman. However, after a few days, it seemed that the Giraffe Shaman had not moved a hoof from behind the counter of his country store. Then, a Laodicean Ox with all of the necessary supplies arrived from Asia Minor. The Ox said, “I felt your thoughts, great Giraffe Shaman, and I set off to your village. On my journey, I ran into a villager from your town who was fresh out of rations.” Thus, the shaman’s journey was not physical at all, but mental, as he arranged for the paths of the supply cart of the Laodicean Ox and the Crocodile Businessman to intersect so conveniently on the same path. Thus, the lesson of thoughts sent from one individual to another, across space and time is learned.

There’s a couple across from him, both dressed in business casual clothing. They seem to share the nervous confidence of a budding romance with their laughter and intentionally deep expressions. This makes him nauseous. He imagines in two or three months, they’ll be in the intoxicated guile of a dying relationship, with the man trying to kiss the woman only to be turned away by the confidence of her physical beauty. This makes him feel better. He sees an older woman who begins to cry and he thinks, this is the depression and desperation of dying physical beauty; of rejection. She is alone. I am alone too, he thinks. Jarrett hates when his thoughts turn towards relationships, because they are so transparent, like looking through a one sided mirror at a car crash in slow motion. He hates how it’s a game of vulnerability. He hates how exhausting it is to not be able to stop thinking about one person. He doesn’t want to be “emo” but also doesn’t want to become so cynical. He began looking at horoscopes, and at one time, Jarrett actually thought he could record in a journal his theories on all of his favorite emo love songs, indicating both partners in the love song as belonging to a specific zodiac sign.

recurring dream(?)
in a shopping mall with movie theaters
bad movies playing always (involving dinosaurs or a non-alec baldwin),
many floors, escalators.
there was also a house,
big,
suburban,
scary,
with many secret passage ways.
there were also bowls passed
between myself and rachel hall and david kelly
before class and to my surprise, they taught awesome

http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2009/jul/29/get-up-kids-emo

had some very lucid dreams last night.
omniscient but not objective.
people reacted to my face
when i got close they made funny expressions

some things that didn't actually happen happened
kanye west's 808s and heartbreaks existed without autotune
and the rest of his work existed without samples


the get up kids apologize for inventing emo

had a dream last night:

we got a new stove in the kitchen, it was pretty nice
found a secret room in my room
there were lots of electronic devices in it
like an ipod deck, an xbox 360, a ps2, two + tvs, a computer.
attached to the secret room was a room completely enclosed by glass.
the windows were pretty to look out of and the floor was hardwood.
i dreamt that two friends tried to smash the windows
i was afraid the windows would break
once they did break, i felt a weird relief
then i went to class in the dream

i felt severely depressed for 7.1 hours
then elliot smith's complete discography came to an end
and i felt the same way as i did after requiem for a dream or mulholland drive
or on most friday afternoons
with an acute sense of vacuity and existential detachment

a few minutes before class i made a peanut butter sandwich
in class, i sat behind an attractive girl
i was very self conscious because
i smelled like peanut butter
i looked at my hands
but couldn't find the peanut butter
i think perhaps its stuck to my ass or back
did i sit on a giant glob of peanut butter
thats now on my ass or back?
i wish a dog would come lick the peanut butter from my back
a german shepard in long sloppy laps
against my shirt or pants
because then the dog
would make funny efforts to eat the peanut butter
from the roof of its mouth and i'd have no more peanut butter on my back.
but i also hope that the attractive girl in front of me likes german shepards and peanut butter.

for my (cynical) friends(s)

CANCER [June 21–July 22] These days, your gods can kick the butts of everyone else's gods. Likewise, your lawyers and agents and sidekicks can most likely outwit and out-wrestle everyone else's. But note that if you try to work alone, you will not be able to kick other people's butts, let alone the butts of their gods, lawyers, agents, and sidekicks. The skills of your allies will be indispensable. The way I see it, your test in the coming days will be to overcome any tendency you might have to indulge in pathological levels of self-sufficiency as you cultivate a greater capacity to ask for and receive help.

everything is a game
the instructions are
to walk away, to sit down (or kneel),
or to stand up

keep friends (and rivals) close
but please: keep enemies away

and still the old lesson
not to love (and trust) anyone completely
because
when it ends
its without mercy

the people in the room next to me
have way more sex than me
i wonder if they will read this
if they do read this i wonder if they will care
if they do care i wonder if they will be flattered or offended
if they are offended i wonder if they will do anything that will end with me taking this post down
if they are flattered i wonder if they will ask me to blog more about them having way more sex than me.

the best night ever

as soon as i got off work that night
i went and met up with two of my friends
i still had my backpack with me
(i always feel weird going to the bar with my backpack still on but sometimes you just gotta do it)
us three, chasing a massive high
chasing another cheap shot
chasing after women
chasing after another cigarette
we went to this bar
it was dark, down a side street
it started raining right after we walked in
and there she was.
sitting at the bar
reading the village voice
eating a slice of chocolate cake

i asked her if she is who i think she is.
she said, "yes!"
then i told her that i had a crush on her
(thoughts racing of how i idolized her, envied her, wanted to marry her, etc, etc....)
and she turned away from me
looked to my friends
swiveled on the stool and asked us,
"hey you guys look like you smoke c-notes"
she looked down at the newspaper, pointing at a graphic of a greenback.
she winked.

she was staying in a hotel in jersey for the night
we took the path back with her
she invited me in pulled me by the hand and left my friends in the hallway
and we proceeded
to touch and wrestle and smoke and sniff (and fuck)
then she packed her things and left town
she walked out the door into a beat up maroon van
i watched her from the hotel window in a total thoughtless daze

i met up with my friends at some diner nearby
they asked how my night was
i responded,
"awesome"
then they asked where the drugs were at.
(in my euphoric daze i must have left my backpack at the hotel.)

by this time the sun was coming up
rippling across the waterfront
crashing against the immense windows of the hotel
when i arrived, a large man was waiting in the lobby.
(think: ted stevens from cursive or pete from the fifth wheel by bret easton ellis)
i asked if i could have my backpack back.
he pointed to it.
"what this? you want this?"
i stuttered, "well you di...didn't go through it did you?"
he proceeded to explain, "in fact i did.
i did go through it.
and among other things
i found two ounces of marijuana."

i didnt even run, i walked.
i walked out calmly
exiting through the revolving doors.
i didn't look back
because i knew he was following me.

when i rounded the corner
there he was
he punched me in the face
i didn't go down but lost sight for a moment
wavering on my feet almost falling in the puddle i was standing in
(oh god, she was so beautiful i loved the way she smiled at me from over her shoulder as she left oh god i would leave all of my family and all of my friends for her)
then he punched me again
right in the face.
two shots right in a row.
(is there something in that hedonism so thickly veiled are all these chemicals just a mechanism to keep us from animalism or maybe they bring us closer to it regardless its a choice its a choice to live with a bleeding stomach and a fried brain flailing wildly for love and companionship. some rastafarian sang that smoking ganja brings you closer to god...i'm unsure)
"why would you do that?!?!?" i asked him.
we ride in his car to the station
i saw a bum taking notes on a paper plate
in the front seat he was shuffling through my ipod
"great selections man, you must be a rocker, nice, the bosss"
(to be honest, i've hated bruce springsteen ever since he lived past 35)
but i agreed with him and he put on the song, "she's the one"
(the lamest song on the record)
and i looked out the window
(thinking: maybe ganja does bring you closer to god.)

An Ocean of Skeletons in Ostend

the ropes tied tight
suspend us
above a death hungry audience
in an opera house
on a stage
above the street
above a marketplace

we become a bright chandelier
helpless but to glow

in this state
the only action we see
is falling
and that is enough

bill evans

lock my keys in the apt
leave my phone at the beach
sleep on the snowy roof

dream myself onto a school bus
heading to an amusement park
i have my phone in the dream
i receive many calls in succession
your message reads, "call your momz k bye"
another reads, "check your email"

the email from mom states that i have been spending too much on "lunch money"

meet with my mother at a starbucks
they only offer one different drink
because i complain
they do not decorate my plate
with french fries and salad
like they do my mothers.
she offers me her food still
and tells me i have spent more on "cafeteria lunch"
than she and my father have spent on food this month
combined

i am in a high school class room
its near christmas break, a different feeling about the air from the rest of the year
in health class i watch from a projection screen:
footage of trey anastasio playing the guitar in a santa hat.
i am in the front row
i begin to cry at the rambling despair seamlessly pouring from his instrument.
you tap me on the shoulder
i turn around
embarrassed that others may see me in this state
you whisper in my ear, smiling coyly,
"that's you in 20 years"

in the morning
when my landlord finds the door to the roof wide open
he walks out
and kicks me in the side of the stomach
i ask if he has the keys
he says no
i collect myself and walk to the train

little bugs

the smell of food
or urine
the sun makes me sweat
the train is filled with people
they too
make me sweat
when i wake up its too hot to sleep
last night a terrible bug flew about my head
i stayed awake until i felt it land on my neck
before it could put its stinger in me
and leave its saliva in my skin
i squashed it
once before i squashed one
during the day time,
while the sun was still out
and it was full of blood
my blood.
(all red with the oxycodone i snorted before grand papap's birthday party)
i go to the kitchen window to smoke a cigarette
beforelong i realize i have begun to shout at passerbys
on the sidewalk
one old robot lady with terrible pigeon eyes
glares at me from the park across the street
her eyes say something to me
in the pigeon eyed language of an old robot lady
i am screaming,
"they're spawning!"
and she is watching me
from across the street in the park
and through her wrinkles her pigeon eyes are speaking
in the language of an old robot lady
of the lives of all the little bugs who happen across my blood
who are soaring high up in the sky

benders

love is disarming a bomb
the explosion a bourgeoisie rose
blooms worse than addiction to war
a bomb in a body unstitches surefire means to wound a friend
devotion is subconscious
i am awake
i am not there
cutting wires spawns intuitive attraction
it dissipates in a white washed infirmary unless
artifacts are kept under the bed
unless the triggers are stored as reminders
in a curious crate
to swallow pride is picking up yr prescriptions
in silence
juice boxes are boyhood comraderie

new format

gonna try a new format for these posts.

morning for me:

wake up at 8:30 am
unsure if its really my alarm clock
go back to sleep for another hour
scared because i have no socks on
finally rouse at 9:40
call boss (no answer)
think of smoking a roach, but don't (still regret)
frantic cig search
go to store buy more cigs
ride subway with murakami's subconscious overflowing into a mental apocalyptic adventure
sleepyhead (or swing tree) and dark was the night
wholesale vendors smoking cig

"hard enough getting into this world, why would i want to be born again?" - fucked up

all my old friends aren't so friendly

I don't say i love you cause the way i feel is greater

The Roots - Water
Death Cab for Cutie - Summer Skin

check it

Lovin's for Fools

this explains so much

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Long Island Wants to Secede
thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Jason Jones in Iran

"if you could beat up a state, which one would it be?"
"ireland"

St. Vincent

enormous crush

the protagonist (no name mentioned?) often will reference a collection of books on astrology written by someone her boyfriend describes as never having, "been with anybody". funny, after watching it, the idea of asrological signs came subconsciously into my brain.'

what if it were possible to identify every love song with a love compatibility between signs. shit son, what useless knowledge.

Knife vs. Wamp Wamp

sweet, from the hood online

dude, about to give in and buy a pack of cigs. once, i said, "to quit smoking, buy TOP". Doesn't work.

Drugs are Illegal Because of Racism

one of my favorite documentaries on the History Channel. Always watch it when it comes on.

hahaha

MUSIC GAMES WITHOUT MUSIC!

Next up, a lesson in how to create a music product without licensing any music. Hasbro releases the Music Edition of a game called Catch Phrase, in which participants must name a song title in response to a clue while being distracted by a repeating piece of very painful royalty free library music.

Clues include US Dummy (American Idiot), Brought Together Again (Reunited) and other ambiguously random hints and I am immediately surprised into thinking that the game is vaguely hip. Example: 123 and... Well, Go! by Tones On Tail, of course. Oh. No, wrong. Okay, Again and Again. Duh, Over and Over from Fleetwood Mac's Tusk. Nope. One more try: Not Going and Not Dead. Screw it, how about Bauhaus's Bela Lugosi's Dead (okay, random association kicks in). I give up and go home.

We're All Gonna Die - 100 meters of existence

The image to the right is 100 meters long (100 m x 78 cm).

There are 178 people in the picture. All people were shot from the same spot on Warschauer Strasse in Berlin in the summer 2007.

speech

compare and contrast with:

Erykah Badu's Twinkle

"...this honey-voiced Earth Mother goes down to the well and comes back pissed-off, knives-out, long-winded, half-stoned-- it's a sign of the times. But if you can't hear past the protest funk, ankh worship, cosmology, 1970s-rooted Afrocentrism, dusty grooves, and other superficial signs that this is a retro album, consider the coda to "Twinkle", where a robotic voice recites Howard Beale's televised breakdown from the 1976 film Network and only needs to change "TV" to "flat-screen" and "toaster" to "microwave oven" to modernize it for our terrified hearts and minds. In March, Erykah Badu told Blender that "time is for white people." I think she was making a joke, but whatever helps her take the longview is fine by me. --Mike Powell

tao te ching

Thank you Vince Hope for this excellent collection.

"Free from desire, you realize the mystery.
Caught in desire, you see only the manifestations.

Yet mystery and manifestations
arise from the same source.
This source is called darkness.

Darkness within darkness.
The gateway to all understanding" (Mitchell 1).

Mitchell, Stephen. tao te ching. New York: HarperPerennial, 1988.

Hamlet 2

watched the film Hamlet 2 today. very funny.

one particular line stuck out to me:

"my life is a parody of a tragedy"

'Glass hold' reveals personality

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/8073432.stm

'Glass hold' reveals personality

Which type are you?

The way you hold your glass can reveal much more than you might realise, a psychologist has warned.

Dr Glenn Wilson, a consultant psychologist, observed the body language of 500 drinkers and divided them into eight personality types.

These were the flirt, the gossip, fun lover, wallflower, the ice-queen, the playboy, Jack-the-lad and browbeater.

Dr Wilson, who carried out the work for the Walkabout bar chain, said glass hold "reflected the person you are".

The types of drinker are:

THE FLIRT

This is usually a woman, who holds her glass with dainty, splayed fingers and uses it in a provocative way.

She may position it over her cleavage so as to draw attention to her attributes or peer over the rim to make eye contact when taking a sip - and she may "tease" the rim of the glass with her finger, perhaps dipping it into the drink and sucking it dry.

THE GOSSIP

Again, usually a woman who clusters together with her friends. She may be talking about other people, and can be critical. She holds a wine glass by the bowl and uses it to gesticulate and make points in conversation.

She is inclined to lean over her drink, in towards others so as to speak confidentially. This person already has a close-knit social group with little inclination to extend it, therefore advances from outsiders are not usually welcome.

THE FUN-LOVER

This type of drinker could be a man or a woman. They tend to be sociable and convivial and "like a laugh".

They take short swigs from bottled drinks so they don't miss out on chipping in with the conversation.

The bottle is held loosely at its shoulder for ease. This type of person is always happy to extend their social circle. The best way to approach them therefore is to leap directly into light, good-humoured conversation and make them laugh.

THE WALLFLOWER

Usually a shy, submissive person who holds the glass protectively, not letting go, as though afraid somebody will take it away.

Palms are kept hidden and the glass is used as a social crutch - the drink is never quite finished, with a mouthful left in case of emergency. The drink is small - maybe half a pint of lager for a man.

When you're in a crowded bar, often all you have to go on is body language Dr Glenn Wilson

It may be drunk through a straw, which is fidgeted with, and used to stir the drink between sips.

The style and pace of drinking is an echo of those around them - very little is initiated.

This individual needs to be approached in a gentle, sensitive way, with perhaps a few understated compliments to build self-confidence, but may eventually warm to overtures.

THE ICE-QUEEN

This is a mainly female type whose natural style is cold and defensive.

She drinks from a wine glass, or a short glass, which is held firmly in a barrier position across the body so as to deter intimate approaches.

It is usually a waste of time approaching this woman; she may be ready with a castrating put-down.

THE PLAYBOY

This man is active and self-confident; a "Don Juan"-type seducer.

He uses his, usually long, glass or bottle as a phallic prop, playing with it suggestively. He is inclined to be possessive, and can be tactile with his female companions.

THE JACK-THE-LAD

This "peacock" is conscious of his image and will drink a bottled beer, or cider.

He is inclined to be confident and arrogant, and can be territorial in his gestures, spreading himself over as much space as possible, for example, pushing the glass well away from himself and leaning back in his chair.

If he is drinking with friends, he would be unlikely to welcome approaches from outside the group, unless sycophantic and ego-enhancing.

THE BROWBEATER

Again usually male, he prefers large glasses, or bottles, which he uses as symbolic weapons, firmly grasped, and gesticulating in a threatening, "in the face" kind of way.

Something of a know-it-all, he can come across as slightly hostile, even if only through verbal argument, or jokes targeted at others. He should be approached with great care, or not at all.

'An unconscious thing'

Dr. Wilson said: "The simple act of holding a drink displays a lot more about us than we realise - or might want to divulge.

"When you're in a crowded bar, often all you have to go on is body language.

"To a large extent, it's an unconscious thing and just reflects the person you are and the type of social relationships you have."

But he warned: "The next time you're in a bar, it might be worth thinking about what you're saying to the people around you, just by the way you're holding your glass."

he was just one like a prime number. he was devoid of plus.

Marnie Stern's Prime mixed up with

Extraordinary Machine - Fiona Apple
Machine Gun - Portishead
Marching Bands of Manhattan - Death Cab for Cutie

check it

The Harvest

Gotta say, this rings very true in terms of academic predicament.

"Each public school is a halfway house
Where the huddled masses sober up and up enough There's not enough to fatten the cows
And feed all of us
It's just a rationing of luck"
- Desaparacidos

If I only could, I'd make a deal with god and get him to swap our places. be runnin up that hill, runnin up that road, runnin up that building.

Mash up between:

Kate Bush - Runnin' up that Hill
The Roots - Living in a New World
The Roots - Baby

Check it OUT

The mix is a bit uneven because I forgot to save the logic file for future editing.

Note: Both Roots songs are from Game Theory

"Game theory attempts to mathematically capture behavior in strategic situations, in which an individual's success in making choices depends on the choices of others. "

Today, "game theory is a sort of umbrella or 'unified field' theory for the rational side of social science, where 'social' is interpreted broadly, to include human as well as non-human players (computers, animals, plants)" (Aumann 1987).

Chasing the Somali piracy money trail

"Hands up if you want ransom money - but the spoils spread further than pirates"

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/africa/8011523.stm

“There have been various reports that piracy in Somalia is attracting big-time criminals from all over the world; that it is being orchestrated from London; that the ship owners themselves are involved.”

“To all them people who believe that security begins at home. Believe me. Nothing begins at home.” - The Bug ft. Spaceape from the song “Fuckahs”.

check out the line from the song

dancing faces

http://www.dshed.net/facedances/index.html

quick movie reviews

Choosing a movie to rent can be a daunting task. Sometimes, brief excursions to Blockbuster turn into a grueling expeditions for that coveted cinematic experience.

Here's a website that catalogues 1 line reviews of a shitton of movies, perfect for a short attention span and busybackson lifestyle.

http://www.bigempire.com/filthy/archive.html

very funny. examples of reviews:

Mulholland Drive - Like a good bad dream that stays with you

Barnyard - Hate your kids? Show them this.

what i live i lead in the summer what a life i lead in the spring, what a life i lead in the wind and the leaves what a life i lead in the sun

check out a mash up of:

fleet foxes - sun giant
iron and wine - such great heights
erykah badu - me

www.myspace.com/ethanwaddell
rxgrendal.tumblr.com

Passage from Going After Cacciato by Tim O'Brien

"The issue, of course, was courage. How to behave. Whether to flee or fight or seek an accommodation. The issue was not fearlessness. The issue was how to act wisely in spite of fear. Spiting the deep-running biles: that was true courage. He believed this. And he believed the obvious corollary: the greater a man's fear, the greater his potential courage."
(Going After Cacciato p. 101. Dell Publishing, 1978.)

O'Brien's concluding sentence of that paragraph seems to me especially prevalent in these times.

The passage comes after they have found Cacciato. They slipped down a hole in the road on the way to Paris. They seem to come to a village afterward which they proceed to raze to the ground. It seems the soldiers are completely obstinate in their destructive path, as they convince themselves, in their soiled pride, that its is only a means to even up the score in the theater of war

"Thought of you as my mountain top, thought of you as my peak"

Veteran British adventurer Sir Ranulph Fiennes has reached the summit of Mount Everest, succeeding after two previous attempts ended in failure.




Fiennes's philosophy reminds me of Ghandi

"There are no ends. There are only means."

Crystal Castles

Canadian digipunk duo
chaotic live sets
canceled shows and interband drama

Portishead - Deep Waters

Gorgeous melancholy ballad in the middle of their otherwise haunting and complex 2008 album Third.

reading:

Going After Cacciato - Tim O'Brien

The Collected Stories - Grace Paley

trying to find subtitles for Il Divo:


trying to find a job

Tito

A neo-hippy who I deduce from my Music of the World's People course that he's playing a lute of some sort.

Been thinking about the rift between what i believe and how i live. i think that i do the best i can. i think taht most of all, physical fitness is what separates myself from others my age in my academic predicament. sometimes i only wish to accentuate this aspect of me and what results is the shallow, non thinking free improvisation musician. however, i also believe in the well balanced man. lord let me stay balanced.

neo hippie

5.	from Urban Dictionary: Neo Hippie
	noun. Neo-Hippie describes a merging of the ideals of hippie, rave, punk, slacker, and internet culture. Beliefs based on community and peaceful cooperation, outside of the mainstream. Strongly opinionated but open and accepting of others and differing opinions. Many prefer a life style involving the therapeutic use of psychedelics and empathogens. Often they embrace the diy life style, vegetarianism, veganism, anarchism, communism. They will drop everything to help a friend in need, and often feel a sense of family within their community. Their way of dress varies greatly, but you can usually spot them by their lack of care, and very loose comfortable clothing. The neo-hippie can be found at clubs, raves, shows, protest, used book and thrift stores, and non corporate coffee shops. Nick- What happened to us, remember punk rock for life? Dave- Well we still go to shows, and love punk rock, but their is so much more out there. Nick- Totally, I love going to the club, and swinging poi, and even thou labels are pointless, what have we become. Dave- I guess you'd call us neo-hippies. Nick- I agree, because showers are important. Dave- Most definitely.

Animal Collective My Girls

www.racialicious.com

About This Blog

Racialicious is a blog about the intersection of race and pop culture. Check out our daily updates on the latest celebrity gaffes, our no-holds-barred critique of questionable media representations, and of course, the inevitable Keanu Reeves newsflashes.

thank you Beth McCoy

Krum

a play written by Hanoch Levin, an Israeli playwright adapted for Polish actors. I saw in 2007 at BAM.

The Informers

Eh, book was mediocre. Movie looks mediocre. I am excited to see the Fifth Wheel translated to screen though. If you haven't read the book, the Fifth Wheel is the story of a narrator who is coerced into tagging along with a few seedy characters after they have kidnapped a young kid. It looks like Mickey Rourke is playing Pete. I suppose we shall see...

lazer sword

check it, a genre called future bass lazer blap. pretty ill.

Beef Stew:

Borrowed from this fine recipe: this one

Slaved in the kitchen with Miner who provided two cans of Campbell's French Onion soup, peppers, potatoes, carrots, canned peas and corn, and mushrooms. Karl gave us 2.78 pounds of chop meat.

All was going according to plans until I oversaturated the broth with Kosher salt. Thus, research was done to find solutions to over salting. I found this gem. It advised that I add potatoes and lemon juice. I found unused lemons intended for lemon drop shots from last night's progressive with the AGOs and I also added water to the broth.

clint eastwood

clint eastwood is a fucking asshole.
he has shit on the hmong people by villainizing and victimizing them for his own aggrandizement. what an asshole. not to say the life of the hmong people in America has not been turbulent, but perhaps eastwood could have set a better example with which white people stereotypically view asians.

recent inspiration

disavowing facebook

i sit in a freezing cold room though i found this

afternoon classes will be skipped and the corporate account will be drained but by week 10-12 of the spring semester, the project will be complete.

other options:

• space heater
• insulating wall hanger

I have chosen to bundle up

The greeter at Wal Mart today smirked at me coyly as I passed him. We made eye contact far before I was within speaking distance of him and looked at the ground until I passed him. I cursed his cold shoulder to the likings of, "I hate this fucking place". However, when I finished my purchase and left through the same greeter's door who ignored me before, I could see that he was clearly mentally deficient as he was making jokes to himself and bobbing his head. Another consequence of being a trophy kid.

Confucius speaks alot about the superior man. he is slow to speak, he is diligent in action, he is born good and intellegent.

he also speaks of the inferior man. he is quick to speak but slow in action, he is born evil and stupid.

Most people he says, are stuck between stations.

it occurs to me that, although my quickness of speech in stating that i hated Wal Mart attributes to my qualities as an inferior man. It also occurs to me that the term "enabler" applies to other inferior men (some of my blindly accepting white friends), who, as Confucius states, I should pick more wisely in the future. However, I hope that i can work through what Confucius calls the third best way to become a superior man; hard work.

Racist Facebook:

• bumper stickers: the ones on white kid's walls of billboards saying, "are you asian and wish you weren't? call..." (surely a christian hotline)
  

• event photo from No Laugh Track Required (an all white comedy group) with an event photo of an asian being shit on by a pidgeon.

I saw the film Clean, Shaven this evening. Paranoia at such a deep level, though the fear is what keeps the character alive.